Seven Years to Sin(58)

“Pay me no mind,” he said.

An impossible request. Not with him looking so handsome and rakish in his shirtsleeves. Not with his long, powerful legs showcased so beautifully in expertly tailored breeches and polished Hessians. Not with the wind playing in his hair the way her fingers wished to.

It was a lovely day, slightly overcast. Cool enough that she needed a shawl, but warm enough to still be pleasurable. She’d come above deck for the fresh air and was joined an hour later by Alistair and one of his portfolios. He’d chosen to sit a few feet away from her, but he looked up at her often and with unexplained intensity.

Jess snorted, then returned her attention to her needlepoint.

“Did the exemplary Lady Tarley just snort at me?” he asked, glancing at her with a raised brow.

“Ladies do not snort.” She thought it was sweet how often he went out of his way to be near her, even while occupied with affairs far removed from her.

He’d become a friend. Someone she shared most everything with. It was a miracle that she’d found two men who wanted her just the way she was. Not because of the exterior crafted by her rigid upbringing, but for the woman hidden inside, the one they made it safe for her to reveal.

“Perhaps not other ladies,” he said in a voice pitched low enough to reach only her ears. “You, however, make all sorts of delightful noises.”

Jess became aroused by the simple provocative statement. She’d gone a week without sex with him, and the craving she felt now that her courses had passed was nigh intolerable.

“Now, you are the one staring,” he teased without glancing at her.

“Because you are too far away for me to do anything else.”

His head snapped up.

Smiling, she stood. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Mr. Caulfield. I think I’ll retreat to the comforts of my bed for a spell before supper.”

She returned to her cabin, where Beth was working industriously on freshening her gowns.

“Lord ’ave mercy on Mr. Caulfield,” Beth said, pausing. “You ’ave a wicked look in yer eye.”

“Do I?”

“You know you do.” Beth smiled. “I ’aven’t seen you this ’appy in years. I’m beginning to pity the man.”

“You said he was well insulated from heartache.”

“I am occasionally wrong, milady. Rarely, but it does ’appen at times.”

The thought widened Jess’s smile. It was a relief to hear Beth’s opinion. The only thing tempering Jess’s contentment was the fear that such happiness couldn’t last and that she was incapable of holding a man like Alistair Caulfield’s attention for long. Not because she was unworthy of him, but because there were women who were worthier. Women who could give him things she couldn’t—experience, an adventure-some spirit to match his own, children …

As she removed her shawl, her smile faded. They were both young. For all that he’d accomplished so far in his life, Alistair still had years yet before he would feel the urge to wed and breed. He couldn’t know now that such instinctual longings would assail him, but she knew. It was up to her to do the correct and responsible thing in regard to their relationship.

Alistair’s easily identifiable brisk knock came at the door. Beth laughed softly and draped the gown she’d been working with over a trunk. She opened the door with a broad grin. “Good afternoon, Mr. Caulfield.”

Jess kept her back to the door, her eyes closing with anticipation and pleasure at the sound of his smooth, cultured reply.

“Will you be needing me for anything else, milady?” Beth asked.

“No, thank you. Enjoy your afternoon.”

The door had barely shut when she heard the thud of something hitting the sole. A heartbeat later she found herself pinned to the bulkhead by over six feet of wildly aroused male. Delighted by his unexpected fervency, she threw her arms around his lean waist and returned the passion of his kiss.

“Vixen,” he accused, his mouth moving across her jaw. “You are deliberately trying to incite me to madness.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He nipped her ear with his teeth, and she arched away, laughing. Her gaze fell to the portfolio he’d dropped on the floor, and she stilled.

“When you are no longer indisposed,” he growled softly, seething with sexual intent, “I intend to make you pay for teasing a man who’s gone without you for a sennight.”

“I am not indisposed,” she said absently, riveted by the drawings she saw peeking out from the edges of his carelessly discarded portfolio. “I haven’t been for two days now.”

Alistair pulled back. “Beg your pardon?”

“What are these?” She slid out of his arms and bent down beside the scattered parchment.

“Two days,” he repeated.

Lifting the black leather front cover, Jess’s breath caught. “My God, Alistair … These are astonishing.”

“What’s astonishing is your lack of desire for me.”

“Don’t be absurd. A woman would have to be dead to escape desire for you.” She stared at her image rendered in fine, precise pencil lines. The uppermost picture was of her on the deck mere moments ago, explaining his preoccupation with watching her. “Is this how you see me?”