“Well, in either case, I erroneously concluded that your father wasn’t even involved.”
“Wish you hadn’t let my brother know I was missing. I don’t like to think of him worrying.”
Drew laughed. “But it was all right for the rest of us to worry?”
Richard grinned. “I expected you to rescue me and so you have. But Charles wouldn’t have had a clue how to get me out of this.”
“I didn’t leave him worrying,” Ohr assured Richard. “I told him you’ve taken off on me before and I probably just missed a note you left behind saying so. But he searched that place for me early the next morning, so you must have been taken out of there that same night?”
“Immediately after the interview with my father, yes, straight to jail for the night, then tossed in a coach at dawn for the trip to the London docks.”
“Damn, I checked the jails, too, but not until the next day. And after searching the entire area for nearly a week, I ran out of ideas and returned to London.”
Richard frowned. “I don’t get it. How’d you find me then?”
“How tedious,” James said as he walked in. “You could have fed him in his cabin, not mine.”
Richard leapt to his feet, his body tensing instinctively in preparation for another pounding at Malory’s lethal hands. “Your cabin?”
“Relax, Richard,” Drew quickly intervened. “We couldn’t have done this without his help. The captain of that ship would have laughed at us if we’d demanded your release. A member of the nobility put you on that ship, and it took another lord to get you off of it.”
“Actually,” James said as he crossed over to sit on the edge of his desk, “as soon as I mentioned the illegality of his transporting an English lord in his hold, Captain Cantel tried to deny he had you. Could smell his guilt, though. So I merely mentioned a few consequences to get his cooperation.”
Drew burst out laughing. “You do manage to get your points across quite—unusually.”
James shrugged. “A knack.”
He’d left the door open. Gabrielle rushed in and, with a shriek of gladness, leapt at Richard and hugged him. Laughing, he swung her around in his arms. Damn, it was good to be back among his friends. He’d begun to think he’d never see them again.
“My God, Richard, don’t ever do this to me again!” Gabrielle exclaimed at him.
“You?” He chuckled.
She backed up and slapped his chest lightly. “I’m serious! This was as bad as LeCross putting my father in his dungeon just so he could get his hands on me. But that pirate was an evil man and I wouldn’t have thought twice about blasting him out of the water. But this was a British ship. We couldn’t fire on them to get you back without starting another war!”
“And I’m glad you didn’t! Don’t think I would have liked going down with that ship if you’d managed to sink it.”
“Well, there was that consideration, too,” she huffed.
Then Richard glanced at James and mumbled, “Bloody hell, I suppose I must thank you.”
“Don’t,” James replied. “You and I know where we stand. I wouldn’t be here if my wife didn’t have a soft heart.”
Richard started to beam in delight that Georgina had intervened to help him, but thought better of it. He didn’t really want another beating at Malory’s hands. But he was still confused. Even if Abel Cantel had experienced a pang of conscience about stepping outside the law as he’d done, and Richard couldn’t think of anyone else who would have set this rescue in motion, Cantel wouldn’t have known who Richard’s friends were to tell them about it.
“I’d still like to know how—?” he began, but stopped cold.
Julia had appeared in the open doorway. Looking at her, he felt a strange mixture of anger and desire. She was still the quick-tempered hellcat he remembered, but she had other tools at her disposal now. Her luscious body. Damn, that woman had grown some nice curves, and he resented how much he actually wanted her. But then his eyes met hers and the anger took precedence. It always came back to her, the reason for his father’s greed and why he’d nearly died for it this time. He didn’t doubt that would have been the final outcome.
“How—unexpected,” he said sardonically. “Hoping for a different resolution, Jewels?”
She frowned. “What are you implying?”
“I know we got a bit carried away the last time we saw each other.” His eyes swept over her suggestively. “But I guess I should have also remembered that you told me you were going to have me declared dead—or pay someone to kill me. Don’t tell me you paid my father to do your dirty work for you?” At her shocked look, he added angrily, “No? Never mind, just stay out of my sight. This wouldn’t have happened if not for you and your damned money.”
She turned about and left. Absolute silence followed her departure. He glanced around uncomfortably to see his friends staring at him appalled.
James said contemptuously, “What a bloody ass.”
But it was the disappointment in Gabby’s eyes that made Richard defensive. “What? You have no idea what has passed between her and me. She’d be delighted if my father’s form of punishment had ended in my demise.”
“Actually, Richard, I have heard both sides of that childhood feud,” Gabrielle said in disgust. “A feud that got out of hand because you couldn’t really fight it out. Had she been a boy, you two would have broken each other’s noses when you were children and laughed about it when you were adults.”
“She did break my nose,” Richard said, stabbing a finger at the small bump on the bridge of his nose.
“Pity,” James interjected. “I’d hoped I’d done that.”
Neither Gabrielle nor Richard acknowledged James’s drollery as she continued to berate Richard. “Yes, and because you wouldn’t hit a girl, you held her over balconies instead.”
He flushed, embarrassed that she knew about that. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done. He’d just been sick to death of bleeding every time Julia got near enough to bite him. But Gabrielle wasn’t done with making him feel guilty.
“We wouldn’t have had a single clue where to find you, Richard, if Julia hadn’t come and told us what your father had done. And she did that because she didn’t want this to happen to you.”
“She spoke to my father?” Richard said incredulously.
“Yes, she’s the one who asked James to rescue you. Ohr, Drew, and I just came along in case we could help in some way. Does that sound like a woman who wants you to die?”
Richard sighed. “It sounds like I owe her an apology.”
James couldn’t resist saying, “D’you think?”
But again he was ignored as Richard said on his way out of the cabin, “Excuse me while I go eat some crow.”
Chapter Thirty
JULIA NO SOONER SLAMMED shut the door to her cabin than her eyes filled with tears. Again, anger and hurt were tearing her apart. Unable to control her strong emotions, she felt like a little girl again, helpless, weak, and never able to win when it came to him. How could Richard still be so nasty after what she’d done for him?
Wiping tears on her sleeve wasn’t effective when the tears kept coming. She picked up a towel from the washstand to dry her face when she heard the doors in the hallway opening and closing. She glanced behind her and stared at the doorknob, then suddenly rushed forward to turn the lock—too late. The door was pushed open.
“You would have to be in the last cabin I checked,” Richard said as he walked in and closed the door behind him.
He didn’t ask for permission to enter her room. That was so like him. And he sounded aggrieved. But all she could think about was hiding the evidence that he’d made her cry. She turned her back on him and swiped the towel over her eyes and cheeks.
“Were you crying?” he asked suspiciously.
“No,” she quickly denied. “I was washing my face when I heard all the racket you were making out there and thought to lock my door.”
She turned aroun
d. He wasn’t smirking in doubt, he was actually blushing. He didn’t look as if he’d just suffered a horrible ordeal this last week. His long black hair looked clean and was neatly queued back. He was wearing a flowing white shirt tucked into black britches that were tucked into knee-high boots. The boots were scuffed, he’d probably worn them all week, but the clothes were fresh. The bruises on his face had healed, leaving him so damned handsome she found herself staring almost hypnotically at him, and even that infuriated her.
“I believe I owe you an apology,” he said.
She snapped, “D’you think?”
“Don’t go sounding like Malory,” he warned.
She drew in her breath sharply. This was the attitude of an apologetic man? “Just get out! You couldn’t bear the sight of me? I feel the same way about you. There’s the door.”
He didn’t budge. He looked perplexed when he said, “Gabby mentioned that you went to see my father and that’s how you found out about this. But why did you go there? When? I could have sworn I saw you heading back to London that day you came to the inn.”
“I did go home. But I felt I had to make one last attempt to end the contract amicably, so I returned to Willow Woods. It was a futile effort. In the guise of concern, your father clearly laid out what would happen to my family if I didn’t prepare for my wedding. I thought he was bluffing about having seen you and was trying to convince me that you’d be a willing groom. He finally told me why you’d be willing and what he had set in motion to assure it.”
Richard winced. “I’m sorry you had to talk to that tyrant for any reason. I’m also sorry I lashed out at you. Thank you for organizing my rescue. You do have your moments when you can be a sweetheart.” He grinned. “Do you accept my apology?”
She was still too upset to be gracious. She was amazed she had even answered his other question without screaming at him. But this one?
“Are you kidding me?! You’d have to apologize a thousand times to assuage all the hurt you’ve caused me.”
“Must you always exaggerate? I never hurt you, I made you angry. There’s a big difference.”
“Do you know how many things I missed out on growing up because of you! No boys ever flirted with me because I was already spoken for. I didn’t get to have an exciting come-out while all my friends were planning theirs. Why? Because I was already engaged! I should have married three years ago. Now, the ton calls me an old maid!”
She’d made each of those things sound like an accusation, which turned him quite stiff. “You would rather I had stuck around so we could have married and ended up killing each other?” he asked her incredulously.
“We wouldn’t have done that, you ass.”
“You swore you would—”
She cut in, “I say things in anger that I don’t mean. Don’t you?”
“I’m not talking premeditated murder. I’m talking about the violence of the moment. You know bloody well you never had control of that.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t have it in me to kill anyone, even you. So no matter how furious you make me, it would never come to that.”
“Like hell. You bit off my ear! Did you forget about that?”
She snorted. “Now who’s exaggerating?”
“You tried, Jewels. You always went for blood.”
She blushed over that reminder. “You were too strong. I had no other way to fight you.”
“You didn’t have to fight me at all!” he said in exasperation.
“You hurt my feelings,” she said in a small voice, her lip beginning to quiver, her eyes turning glassy again. “You always did. I wasn’t quick enough back then with a sharp comeback to pay you back in kind.”
“Good God, are you crying?”
She swung around instantly. “Get out.”
He didn’t. She heard him move toward her, not away. He came so close she could actually smell him behind her—then felt his hands on her shoulders. It was too much for her fragile emotions. She turned around to pound her fists against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to prevent it, but oddly enough she found his touch comforting. He was actually trying to soothe her? It just made her cry all the harder, great racking sobs that wet his shirt and wouldn’t stop. It had been so long since she’d had a shoulder to cry on. Actually, she’d cried on her father’s shoulder a number of times, missing him so much, but he hadn’t been awake to notice, and remembering that brought on even more tears.
“Don’t,” Richard said softly, trying to wipe her cheek with his fingers.
“Don’t,” he said again, smoothing a hand over her head now, but all that did was dislodge her hairpins so half her coiffure tumbled down her back. He threaded his fingers through her hair now, dislodging the rest of the hairpins.
“Please, don’t,” he said, and kissed her brow. Twice. And so tenderly.
His soothing tone was working wonders. She wondered why he’d want to comfort her. Guilt? Or was he finding comfort as well from his own ordeal? He was a man. He probably wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of tears, but she found herself hugging him—just in case he needed it.
His soothing touch was also working wonders, though in a different way. One hand in her hair, the other moving up and down her back with just the slightest pressure. He wasn’t actually holding her there against him now, but she didn’t even consider moving away. She wasn’t feeling any angry passion at the moment that could explode into something else. But that something else was happening anyway.
He tried to wipe her cheek again, with his. She tilted her head a little and it worked, and suddenly he was kissing her. This could just be his way of comforting, too, but that’s not what it was for her.
Her tears dried up. The escalating warmth running through her veins might have helped. That kiss was so gentle, but it was still churning her insides with exciting flutters. This was—romantic, a careful introduction to the more sensual side of life. It’s what should have happened when she was eighteen and married—him. She blanked out that thought. She wasn’t going to let their past intrude just now.
The kiss got a little more intimate, his tongue asserting dominance to explore her mouth. Even the taste of him was thrilling her senses. She hugged him more tightly. He cupped her face in the palms of his hands, his fingers spreading to the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.
But then he suddenly broke the kiss and looked down at her. His green eyes were hot and questioning. Her eyes remained lambent. Was he giving her a chance to stop what was happening between them? But it was only a brief chance. The next kiss was much more provocative and all the more thrilling for the decision that had just been mutually, if silently, made.
He began unbuttoning her blouse. She pulled his shirt from his pants. They were both moving slowly to keep from breaking that kiss. There was no hurry—yet. Desire was growing stronger, but it was just as exciting to savor it. Her skirt came undone and drifted down her hips. His hand slipped under the back of her drawers to squeeze a plump cheek before he pressed her against his loins.
Oh, God, nothing about that was sensually lazy! She immediately wrapped her arms tightly about his neck with a moan. He lifted her higher and curved one of her legs about his hips, so she did the same with the other. He walked her to the bed like that, with her limbs holding fast to him, and laid her down carefully at the edge. He didn’t follow her down. He stood there at the edge and yanked off his shirt and unfastened his pants. She was mesmerized by him. He really had matured into a strapping young man, with thick muscles, limbs tautly corded with them, such long legs, lean hips. And his hair, oh, my, that extremely long, raven black hair that gave him such a wild, primitive look when it flowed loose as it did now.
But the look in his eyes, when she finally caught them again, held her fast. Not the heated passion. That was there, but something else was as well, need, a deep longing, as if this were something he’d waited for forever. Was she imagining it? She could have said that of herself, but him? Yet she wa
s spellbound by the longing in his eyes. It struck just the right chord in her to make her hold out her arms to him.
With a groan he whisked off her drawers and leaned forward to slide his hands up under her chemise. The flimsy strings holding it together easily widened with both his hands stretching it as he learned the feel of her breasts, and they came completely undone by the time he bent farther to capture one of her breasts in his mouth.
She held him fast with her arms, with her legs. The sensations he was stirring seemed to spiral straight down to her core. It frazzled her senses. She couldn’t be still. She was pushing at him, squirming, demanding—something. Then she had it, so quickly, that hard, thick pressure at her loins sliding forward, penetrating directly where it was needed. It was such a welcome relief that he knew how to fix what was wrong with her that she barely felt the brief pain before he filled her fully.
How amazing! Such a glorious feeling, to have him so deeply inside her. She was held breathless with anticipation. But he didn’t move! At least his loins remained perfectly still, pinning her there to the bed, while his mouth touched and explored hers again. She didn’t know why she felt so desperate and needy, but she kissed him back furiously because of it, wildly, tempestuously, about to burst with suppressed passion screaming for release.
He finally broke that kiss with another groan, reared back, and then thrust into her. He didn’t have to do another thing. Oh, God, the pleasure that burst forth was beyond anything she could have imagined. It gushed, spread clear to her toes. Each slow thrust dazzled her even more, had her holding fast to him for that glorious ride.
It ended all too quickly. She was only vaguely disappointed that those amazing sensations couldn’t have lasted much longer. But he threw back his head, stiffened, actually looked as if he were in pain, then let out the breath he’d been holding in an exultant cry before he dropped his head to her shoulder, panting. After one tender kiss on her neck, she felt his entire body rest against hers.