A Gentleman By Any Other Name (25 page)

Chance's manhood strained almost painfully against the buttons of his breeches, but he wasn't about to give in to his own passion. Not yet. Not when Julia pressed her head back against his shoulder, moaning softly as he realized he could keep his last finger occupied in teasing her navel, even while he could span her well enough that he could travel over her taut nipples with his thumb.

And more. Holding her upper body this way with one hand, he slid the other lower to cup her soft blond mound…and then dip his fingers into that warm nest and find her very center.

Naked, against his body. Marginally opening her legs as he watched what he was doing to her, watched her reaction even as he licked at the sensitive skin behind her earlobe.

“I can't…I can't…”

“I know, sweetings, I know,” Chance said, his own breathing shallow.

Reluctantly he released her, then backed her toward the bed once more, shocked into a grin when she nearly fell, as she was still ankle-deep in her clothing, then pushed her down on the bed, her legs hanging over the side of the high mattress.

He went to work on his own buttons, ripping at them like a madman, his fingers clumsy, his heart pounding as if he'd just rowed across the width of the Channel. Never. Never had he felt like this. Wanted like this. Needed to please more than he wanted to be pleased. Never…

Julia lay back, her eyes closed, lost in a sensual mist that promised to keep her senses swimming too deep for her common sense to effect a rescue. Only belatedly did she realize she was only half on the mattress, but by then Chance's hands were on her again, spreading her thighs.

Blindly she reached for him, and her fingers tangled in the thick, warm length of his hair. Julia's eyes shot open and she gasped as she realized that he was kneeling between her legs.

“No,” she said, the sound of her voice coming to her as if from a distance. “Don't…”

But there was no stopping him. She could feel him parting her with his fingers. And then his mouth, warm and moist, sealing over her. Drawing on her sensitive, swollen flesh in a kiss that condensed her entire world into this most intimate union.

And then she felt his tongue, pleasantly rough, delving deeper, finding a part of her she never knew existed, rubbing her there, his tongue moving faster, faster, even as he drew all of her more closely against him.

She felt an incredible, nearly undeniable urge to raise her hips, to wrap her legs about him. But if she moved even a little, he might stop. And it was important above everything else in the entire universe that he did not stop.

Because nothing had been like this, would ever be like this. Bliss like this wasn't meant to be survived. But if this was death, she welcomed it.

Instead of tightening, yearning against him, Julia gave in to the inevitable and relaxed her body, her legs falling completely open to him to do with her whatever he wanted. Anything, everything. She was his.

She felt his finger tease at her, then slide inside. Deep. Impaling her even as he began to move his tongue in tight circles around her, so that the darkness behind her eyelids suddenly seemed bright blue and then sparkling white, then blended into all the colors of the rainbow.

His hands, his mouth. Everywhere. All she could give him, all he was giving her. Spiraling out of control, moving faster, faster, the sensations higher, tighter, better when better was impossible. And better yet.

And then, still marveling, she died….

T
HE SUN HAD ABANDONED
the windows on its daily trek west, leaving Julia's bedchamber in soft shadows.

Chance lay on his back, Julia's head against his chest, stroking her hair as she told him about her father, holding nothing back, including her own involvement with the local freebooters.

“…and the church officials wanted everything kept quiet more than they wanted to punish a dead man, as Papa's actions could raise more questions than they wished to answer,” Julia said, sighing. “I don't know why I thought I had to tell you, but I do feel better now that you know everything about me, about Papa.”

“And you said Jacko knows?”

Julia smiled softly. “He's really a very sweet man, at the bottom of it.”

Chance had to bite back an outright laugh. “Jacko? Have you taken up strong drink in my short absence, woman? Jacko does what Jacko does, but never tell anyone you think he's
sweet.
He'd have no other choice but to kill you.”

Chance's smile faded as he looked up at the ornate ceiling, knowing that he was only avoiding the inevitable. He was now all but honor bound to share some secret with Julia. Women expected that, especially after sex. A confidence for a confidence—why, he didn't know. And yet just this once he felt a similar urge to unburden himself.

“I wasn't exactly ripped from a loving home when Ainsley found me. My mother had years earlier lost a knife fight with another wharf slut while everyone in the taproom looked on, cheering. At least I think she was my mother. I don't remember her name, just that she was Angelo's woman, the way I was Angelo's brat. I may not have belonged to either one of them.”

He lowered his voice, for he knew that, in truth, Chance Becket was a nameless nobody, no matter how far he'd come in life. “God knows I don't know—and I don't care.”

Julia felt tears sting her eyes at the thought of that long-ago child, the life he had led before Ainsley took him in, even as she quietly rejoiced that he was willing to tell her something so very personally painful. Because Chance was lying—to her, to himself—because he
did
care. His childhood had left wounds still not completely healed.

Julia felt an almost irrational need to heal those wounds for him. But would he let her? Would he ever let anyone that close? He shared her bed, yes, he'd even given her a ring, insisted they marry to protect her—both her safety and her reputation. As if she
had
a reputation to protect.

But never a word of love. Earlier, when he'd first seen her in the main salon, he'd even seemed surprised to realize that he'd missed her.

Marriage to Chance Becket would rescue her from penury, keep her close to Alice…keep her close to him. Still, Julia couldn't accept everything he offered, not as long as he still kept so much of himself hidden and hurting in the past.

“Ainsley's your father in all the ways that count,” she said at last, looking up at him.

“I know,” Chance said, then grinned, because he didn't care to feel maudlin, not with Julia lying here beside him. “And Billy's my mother.”

“And don't forget dear, sweet
Uncle
Jacko,” Julia said, trying to match his teasing tone.

“Jacko named me, you know. Second Chance. And I took advantage of that chance in every way I could.”

“They're all very proud of you.”

Chance sniffed, shook his head. “Not of all of me,” he said, a trace of bitterness in his tone now. “I'm not, either.” He sat up more against the pillows, pulling Julia up with him. “Do you know I often wondered if Alice is my own child? That first day, when you said she looked so much like me, I was shocked. Nearly struck speechless, because suddenly I realized that it didn't matter. None of the Beckets are Ainsley's except for Cassandra. And
it doesn't matter.
Alice is my daughter, and I love her.”

Julia tried to wipe at her eyes without Chance noticing that he had brought her to tears. “Alice loves you very much.”

“I know. I'm one damn lucky man. I'm simply telling you what a stupid ass I can be sometimes. A stupid, blind ass.” He laid his fingers against her bare breast. “What's this?”

Julia looked down at the small cut. She'd felt it, of course, but had ignored the pain, as the pleasure had been so much more compelling. “My
gad
bit me,” she said, sniffing away the last of her tears.

“Or mine. Damn stupid tooth, that's all it is,” Chance said, sitting up to lift the leather cord over his head as she also removed her own—the only differences between the two being that her
gad
was on a golden chain and she'd tied the black grosgrain ribbon to it. “Were you just humoring Odette?”

Unashamed of her nakedness, Julia lay down against Chance once more. “As a clergyman's daughter, I should say yes, shouldn't I?”

“But someone's been telling you stories about Odette's powers?”

“A few,” Julia said, nodding. “Callie's extremely impressed with Odette's…abilities.”

“I imagine Alice has her own
gad
by now?”

“Oh, I would think so. And that's another subject for another time, if you don't mind?”

Chance cupped his hand around her breast. “Not at all, as long as you stay here,” he said, watching her reaction as he lightly pinched her nipple between his fingers.

Julia drew a shaky breath. “You're trying to distract me because I'm asking too many questions.”

“I'd say that was a brilliant deduction, but I think I'm being too obvious. Very well,” he said, fully prepared to continue dodging her questions. He lifted a finger to his mouth, moistened it, then returned to slide the tip over her already aroused nipple. “What else do you want to know?”

“I…I'm trying to remember,” Julia said, struggling to control her breathing. “Mmm.” She sighed in pleasure, then pushed on. “Tell me about Becket Hall.”

“Must I?” Chance asked, employing his free hand to lightly tickle the side of her neck. “Aren't you finding me irresistible?”

If he could tease, then so could she. “I'm not going to answer that. I'd prefer to convince myself that I was kidnapped this afternoon, completely against my wishes, of course, and am only hoping to keep you talking so that you don't ravish me again,” Julia said, returning his touch by laying her palm flat against his lower belly. “But I don't think that's working, do you? Tell me about Becket Hall.”

Chance felt himself begin to rouse as the heat of Julia's palm seemed to make his temperature rise. “Not fair, not fair. All right, I'll tell you about Becket Hall. But I fully expect a reward.”

Julia moved her hand a fraction lower, delighted to see her effect on him. “That's only to be expected.”

“Then I'll make this quick,” Chance said, amazed yet thrilled by Julia's bold advances. “Ainsley ordered Becket Hall built long before we arrived here. We all knew he was preparing us to leave the…leave the sea. Anyway, he was forever poring over plans, shipping furniture, bits of art, fabrics and the rest here on one of his own ships, along with copious instructions for the hapless man he'd put in charge.”

“He had everything planned?”

“Ainsley always has everything planned—or at least he used to. He stepped up the work once he'd brought Morgan home as a newborn, as he believed where we were was no place to raise up a daughter. Then there was Fanny, and then Ainsley married. In fact, we were to leave for England in only a week or so when—”

She was distracting him, using her naive skills with more effect than Odette worked her magic. He'd almost told her. And he couldn't deny that he felt a strong desire to tell her, tell her everything. But he wasn't ready to allow her that deeply into his life. He might never be ready to share those last days with anyone. “That's enough for now.”

Julia felt his tension and searched for something to say that would take the pain from his voice. “Does Elly know about Becket Hall? What you told me, I mean.”

“That's a strange question. Of course she does. Why?”

Julia thought about the tall tale Eleanor had woven for her benefit, about how Ainsley had seen the mansion from his ship, then rowed ashore to purchase it out of hand.

Obviously Eleanor still did not trust her. Either that or she had another reason to want the world to think she was no more than a very sweet, shy, domestic and presumably uninformed creature. Except when she ruled her siblings with a soft word, a simple gesture. There was that, wasn't there?

“Oh, no reason,” Julia said, pushing on to another question. “You're so very informal here. When I told Morgan I was sure she'd have to deal with quite a few more rules in London, she said then she simply wouldn't go.” Julia looked up at him and winced. “I was to tell you that.”

“She'll go,” Chance said confidently. “Once she hears I'm planning to provide her with an entire new wardrobe. She may clomp about like a filly in a muddy field, but she does love her clothes, almost as much as she enjoys being admired.” He shifted slightly onto his side, cupped her breast more fully. “Now…where were we?”

“Yes, where were we?” Julia asked, suddenly nervous again, which was silly, incredibly silly. “Oh, I know. I was just about to climb out of bed to get washed and dressed for dinner. I believe I'm famished.”

She attempted to rise, and Chance grabbed her, pulled her down beside him once more. “The devil you were. In fact, I seem to remember someone saying something about a
reward
if I answered your questions. Do you remember that, Julia?”

Of course she did. Why else was she so suddenly nervous?

But then again, after he had touched her so intimately, she
had
been curious about what it would be like to…

Julia bent her head so that she could watch as she slowly brought her hand lower, slipped her fingers around him, lifting him slightly as she slid her hand up his shaft, then down again. He seemed to grow in her grasp.

Her breaths became shallow, more rapid, even as her curiosity mingled with some other, deeper emotion. “It's…you're so…My goodness, I had no idea.”

“You're intimidated?” Chance asked, fairly certain he never before had been both so embarrassed and so aroused at the same time.

“Nooo,” Julia said slowly, consideringly. “I…I think I rather like it, the way you feel. So strong and yet so soft, so…silky. So clever, the way we're fashioned, isn't it? To fit together so perfectly, like two halves of the same whole.” She stroked upward again, placing her finger directly on top of him. “So silky…”

“Oh, for the sweet love of heaven,” Chance all but gasped out as he sat forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her so that he could cover her with his body. He looked down at her. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

Julia's heart was pounding now. “I didn't
do
anything. I was going to, but—what's that?”

Chance lifted his head, heard it, too. “Someone's coming,” he said, quickly pulling up the covers to hide their bare bodies. “And calling your name.”

“Alice?” Julia said, her eyes widening. “Oh, God, it's Alice.” She pushed at Chance's shoulder. “Quickly, get yourself out of my bed.”

“And do what, sweetings, scurry beneath it? And then there's the small matter of my clothing strewn everywhere and—ah, too late.”

They both lay on their backs now, propped against the pillows, the coverlet drawn up beneath their chins, as Alice burst into the bedchamber.

“Julia! Julia, come quickly! Callie is lost! Maybe someone bad took her! She was hiding, we were playing a game, and now she's gone and—Papa? What are you doing in Julia's bed, Papa? It's not time for bed.”

“Oh, God,” Julia said, wishing she could just pull the covers over her head and stay there until she was old and gray.

“Never mind that, Alice,” Chance said. “How long has Callie been gone? Maybe you simply couldn't find her? Maybe she hid herself too well?”

Alice shook her head violently. “I
looked,
Papa, I looked forever. And I called and called, but she didn't answer. She's lost. Papa Ainsley has gone looking. Everyone has gone looking. And
they've
been looking forever.”

“Damn and blast,” Chance muttered under his breath. “All right, Alice, Julia and I will look, too. You…you just go downstairs and wait for us, all right?”

“All right. But why are you in Julia's—”

“Later, Alice.
Go.
”

Alice nodded, sniffling, then left, closing the door behind her.

Chance was out of the bed even before the door closed. “Ainsley must be half out of his mind. His sun rises and sets on Callie. Jacko told me Ainsley's let her run wild, probably because she looks so much like her mother. And this is the reward he gets for such indulgence. Please remind me to beat Alice on a regular basis, all right?”