Seduced: The Scandalous Virgin (2 page)

A woman of independent means who wanted nothing to do with marriage would be the perfect partner for a shipboard seduction. That thought hummed a constant refrain in Blade's mind all the next week, growing more insistent with each passing day.

Now, as the passengers of the
Hartwell
gathered in the roundhouse to occupy the hours between luncheon and teatime, he could scarcely keep his mind on the cards in his hand. Instead, his ears were trained upon Genia as she entertained old Mr. Ramsey with a story.

Ever since their departure from Madras, Blade had become daily more certain that Miss Vernon was by far the most interesting person aboard. With the other gentlemen, even the dullest, she was unfailingly affable and vivacious. But whenever he tried to avail himself of her sparkling company, she turned suddenly waspish. Was she trying to show him what he'd missed by discouraging her interest when he'd first visited Madras? If so, she'd succeeded all too well.

Distracted by his constant thoughts of her, Blade played his cards so badly that his companions appeared relieved when he begged to withdraw from their game. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I could use a breath of sea air to blow the cobwebs from my brain.”

Spying Genia temporarily on her own, he approached her with a smile that had seldom failed to beguile its object. “Might I beg the honor of your company for a turn about the deck, Miss Vernon?”

A spark of irritation flashed in the lush, warm depths of her eyes. “I cannot prevent you from begging if you choose, sir. Indeed, it might be most amusing to observe. But I cannot promise you the answer you claim to desire. Have our recent encounters not persuaded you that my company might be more a trial than an honor?”

“Quite the contrary.” Blade lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. “They have only demonstrated that your abuse is far more diverting than the civilities of anyone else aboard. Take pity on my abject boredom, I beg you, and indulge me with brief stroll.”

“As you wish.” One corner of her full, wine-red lips arched. “But only because I am weary of making such effort to be agreeable to everyone. I shall relish the opportunity to be contrary or short-tempered if I choose. Let me go fetch my bonnet.”

Watching her walk away, Blade pictured her gown drenched with seawater, clinging to her body like a translucent second skin. Had that provocative glimpse of her fuelled his present combustible attraction? Or was he responding to the challenge she now represented? Whatever the reason, he found himself drawn to her far more intensely than when she'd pursued him.

A short while later, as they emerged onto the open deck, he offered her his arm.

“Such minor liberties are permissible at sea,” he explained. “For support, in case a lady should lose her footing on account of the ship's movement.”

Though she seemed dubious of his assurances, it did not prevent Genia from slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow. That innocent touch, together with the subtle whiff of jasmine that hung about her, roused Blade's desire in a way that was anything but innocent. He could not help imagining what a playful, adventurous lover she might make.

They had not strolled far when a school of dolphins caught their attention, bounding along beside the ship, leaping out of the sea then plunging back in. For a while, Blade and Genia stood at the railing, laughing at the creatures' antics and marveling at their speed, strength and grace.

“Intriguing creatures,” Blade mused as they resumed their stroll, “so free and full of life.”

“Shall I tell you what intrigues me?” asked Genia.

Though he sensed a slight threat in her question, it also piqued his curiosity. “By all means.”

“I am at a loss to understand why you are suddenly so attentive to me. When you first arrived in Madras, I would have been delighted by any sign of interest from you. But you scarcely spared me a second glance. I do not think I have improved so much in the meantime. Is this a measure of your present desperation or are you after me for the money I may inherit?”

Beneath her bantering tone, Blade sensed genuine hurt and self-doubt. He had never imagined he could inflict either upon a woman so lovely and sought after.

“Forgive me for my earlier neglect.” He reached over to pat her fingers that grasped his arm. “And permit me to make it up to you in the weeks to come. I assure you it did not arise from any lack of admiration on my part.”

“Is that some sort of riddle I am meant to work out?” She cast him a sidelong glance that made him ache to feather kisses upon her delicate eyelids. “You ignored me because you admired me?”

The truth tingled on his tongue—that honor had prevented him from taking her virginity. But that would be as good as admitting he now had designs upon her virtue. He did not want to lose any hope of enjoying her company for the rest of the voyage. “The fact is, Miss Vernon, in spite of my admiration for you—indeed,
because
of it, I was rather afraid of you.”

“Afraid of
me?
” A melodious gurgle of laughter burst from Genia's lips, though her eyes remained wary. “Why on earth…?”

“Because you were a very alluring, very marriageable lady and I dared not risk the possibility that I might be tempted to propose. Had I realized at the time that you had neither the need nor the inclination to wed, you may be certain I would never have neglected you so shamefully when we first met.”

One look at Genia's face told him that had not been the right thing to say, either. Her lips pursed and her fine, dusky brows drew together into a frown that fairly begged to be kissed away. “You thought I wanted to snare you into marriage for your fortune and your title? Of course you could not risk a misalliance with a woman so far beneath you!”

She wrenched her hand away from his arm. Its abrupt withdrawal stung.

“Please!” Blade caught her fingers before she could storm away. “It wasn't me who would disapprove, but my family. And it was not you they would object to, but any woman other than the one they would choose for me.”

“Your family will choose your bride?” Genia sounded torn between disbelief, contempt and pity. “And you would let them?”

Blade wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Until this moment, he had not confided in anyone the humiliating circumstances behind his journey abroad nor what awaited him upon his return to England. Yet part of him felt lighter and freer for having told Genia. “It's not a question of letting. I have very little choice in the matter.”

“How can that be?” Though she sounded uncertain whether to believe him, her voice held an appealing note of sincere concern.

Blade hid his true feelings behind a self-deprecating grin. “It is a long and rather tiresome story.”

“You are not without your faults, Mr. Maxwell, but being tiresome is not among them. I doubt you could be if you tried.”

Her tart compliment tempted Blade to pour out his heart to her, but his body reminded him that he was looking for a paramour, not a confidante. “In that case, I promise to tell you every fascinating detail…if you will permit me the pleasure of your company for the rest of the voyage.”

Blade watched her face closely for a sign that his gambit might work. And because he could not bear to look away.

 

Could she believe the man who had once spurned her? In an effort to steel herself against Blade's melting gaze, Genia reached for his arm again and gave a nod to signal they should continue their stroll.

Had he truly feared he might succumb to her charms? Though his explanation had a persuasive ring of truth, she sensed there was more to it. Would she discover what, if she accepted his bargain? Or was he only amusing himself by leading her on to make a fool of her again?

“What do you say?” he prompted her. “Don't keep me in suspense, I implore you.”

“Why should I not?” If he could amuse himself, so could she. “Suspense can be very stimulating.”

“So it can.” Blade gave an appreciative chuckle. “I reckon we could stimulate each other in a great many ways that would make this voyage pass far more swiftly and enjoyably for us both.”

Genia savored that notion as she would have sucked on a sugarplum to extract every jot of sweetness from it. Though she was far from certain she could trust Blade Maxwell, that very danger lent piquancy to the prospect of a dalliance with him.

They paused at the bow of the great ship to gaze around them. The sky had never looked so vast, stretching out to every horizon to meet the restless, empty expanse of ocean.

“It makes me feel so small,” Genia mused “and of so little consequence.”

“In a way, I suppose.” Blade pulled off his hat to let the sea breeze ruffle his hair. The tropical sun glinted off frets of gold among the chestnut. “But it gives me a feeling of freedom, too, and endless possibility.”

His words struck a chord with Genia. This voyage might be her last taste of freedom. She must not let fear keep her from taking full advantage of it.

The ship's bell rang, signaling a change of watch.

“Time for tea already?” Blade sounded surprised and rather regretful. “You certainly have made this afternoon pass quickly, Miss Vernon.”

In the back of her mind, Genia fancied she could hear her friend, Margaret, egging her on to encourage Blade Maxwell.

“Please call me by my given name,” she bid him as they headed back toward the roundhouse, “in private, at least.”

“I shall be honored,
Genia
.” He seemed to relish the flavor of her name upon his tongue. “It is too lovely not to be spoken often. Does this mean you are willing to spend time with me and permit me to make amends for my prior inattention?”

She was enjoying this little game—keeping him guessing. “What sort of amends did you have in mind?”

They were about to ascend to the quarterdeck when Blade suddenly tugged her into a shadowy, sheltered corner beside the stairs. He cast a swift glance aloft, to check if any of the crew might be spying on them from the rigging. Apparently satisfied that they were unseen for the moment, he leaned close and murmured, “This sort.”

His lips found hers and pressed a salty-sweet kiss upon them.

Genia knew she should pull away, or protest at the very least. Prudence reminded her of the disastrous consequences she'd suffered the last time she permitted a man to kiss her.

But Blade's kiss was so much better.

Was it only the fulfillment of her thwarted infatuation with him that made it seem that way? Or did the danger of discovery and the risk of further humiliation add a delicious spice to it?

Genia sensed it was more that. His kiss was like a sinfully rich cake she could not stop eating even though she knew it might give her painful indigestion and make her grow stout. Perhaps Blade felt the same, for as his lips moved over hers in a velvet caress he gave a low appreciative moan, like a starving man biting into fresh-baked bread.

Surely he would not react that way if he was only toying with her for his amusement.

When she parted her lips to release a sigh of surrender, Blade's tongue flicked between them, hot and teasing. It made her whole mouth tingle as if she'd eaten a spicy curry. And not only to her mouth. His kiss provoked a wicked tingle of desire in her breasts and loins, as well.

It felt like a sensual expression of the ravenous curiosity his earlier revelation had whet in her mind.

Time stretched and slowed, measured not by the monotonous precision of a clock, but by the frantic beat of her heart and the urgent rasp of her breath. In the intimate world of their kiss, yesterdays were forgotten and tomorrow had no meaning. It was the perfect forgetfulness she had long ached to find in his arms.

Then the ship gave a lurch that almost made them lose their balance and tumble onto the deck.

Jolted from the bewildering enchantment of Blade's kiss, Genia came to her senses at last. What if they were caught in such a compromising situation? She had better reason to know the consequences than most women. She was already politely shunned by the other female passengers. What if none of the men would speak to her, either? What if the captain confined her to her cabin for the rest of the voyage? Those risks were too great to run for the fleeting pleasure of a kiss, no matter how delectable.

When Blade sought to renew their embrace, Genia mustered her willpower sufficiently to elude him and lunge for the stairs. “Please, Mr. Maxwell, I believe you have made amends quite enough for the present!”

She wanted to sound positive and in control, so he would not be able to gloat over having made such an easy conquest of her. Alas, the breathless quaver of her voice surely gave her confusion away.

Blade did not seem at all bothered by her belated show of resistance. Hurrying up the stairs after her, he gave a deep, devilish chuckle. “For the present, my dear Genia. But I hope I shall have the opportunity to make a great deal more.”

How ironic, Blade reflected a few weeks after their first thrilling kiss, that this transient shipboard dalliance was proving far more satisfying than any of his past affairs.

Catching Genia's eye across the captain's table, he exchanged a conspiratorial smile with her. Perhaps not satisfying in the strictly physical sense, he had to admit, for he had not yet enjoyed the lady's favors beyond several increasingly heated embraces. With so few chances to indulge his desire, he'd spent a great deal of time simply talking with her. He'd quickly come to appreciate Genia's ready wit and warm sympathy as much as her many physical charms. Blade counted it a great personal triumph that he had charmed away her vexation with him and bid fair soon to win her trust. The better he came to know her, the more he began to doubt he could bring himself to bed her even if the opportunity arose.

Not that he didn't
want
her. His body ached with yearning for Genia day and night. Even carnal dreams and taking matters into his own hands provided only temporary, unfulfilling relief. It took only the briefest glimpse, the sound of her voice, even a thought of her to reignite his desire hotter than before.

The trouble was he had begun to care more about her future welfare than his own satisfaction. Genia claimed she did not wish to be encumbered by a husband and children, but he suspected the true reason behind her reluctance to wed and hoped she might someday change her mind. If that happened, he did not want her marriage prospects ruined because he had taken her virginity.

After tea, he and Genia took their customary stroll around the ship. They had discovered this was an opportune time to catch a few moments of privacy. By lingering out on deck until darkness began to fall, they could take advantage of the long shadows to steal a passionate embrace.

“Are you ever going to make good on your promise?” asked Genia as they watched some of the other gentlemen fishing for albacore.

“What promise?” Blade countered. “The one to make amends for my earlier neglect? I assure you, I have endeavored to fulfill it at every opportunity.”

“So you have.” She laughed—a warm, hearty sound that never failed to nourish his spirit. “It will take very little more to persuade me of your sincere repentance. But it is the other promise I meant, to tell me why you would allow your family to choose a wife for you.”

Secure in the knowledge that they would move in very different circles once they reached England, Blade felt safe confiding in her. “My family shipped me off to the Indies after one scandal too many. Father said three years should allow the tattle to die down and give me plenty of time to sow my wild oats. After that, he would expect me to return home and make myself useful to the family by marrying a neighboring heiress.”

The teasing mirth in Genia's eyes was quenched in a blaze of indignation. “But he cannot force you to wed against your wishes. You are his son, not his slave!”

“A slave would be of more value.” Blade gave a bitter chuckle. “I am nothing to him but a cipher, a spare cog for the family engine, a measure of insurance lest some harm befalls to my elder brother. In the meantime, if I do not toe the line and marry the chosen bride, I shall be disowned and disinherited.”

“You make it sound as if you are bound for the gallows.” Beneath the warm sympathy of her tone there rang a steely challenge. “But surely that needn't be. You could make your own way in the world, leaving you free to make your own choices.”

“Hardly the gallows,” Blade protested. What she'd proposed was not nearly as easy as it sounded. “More like the world's most comfortable prison cell.”

A troubled frown did nothing to detract from Genia's beauty. “And what is your crime, pray?”

Blade shrugged as if in jest. “Being of no earthly use to anybody. Not having a scrap of ambition except to amuse myself. Being no good at anything that matters.”

He found himself telling her about Ford and his partners, the successful business they had built from nothing. “Part of me envies them for having accomplished so much. Yet I shudder to think of the hours they work and the conditions they endure. Compared to them, I am too idle and irresolute to make anything of my life.”

When Genia shook her head and parted her luscious lips to contradict him, Blade refused to let her. These feelings had been brewing within him for so long, despite his effort to divert himself with superficial pleasures. She was the first person who truly seemed to listen and care.

“I hope that sowing my last wild oats on this voyage may make me ready to settle down and shoulder my responsibilities.” Urgently as he longed to unburden himself, Blade regretted having confessed too much—both to her and to himself.

The past haunted him with its ghosts of failure and unworthiness. The future lay in wait to take him captive. Only in the present moment, with Genia, was he free to grasp at a few last moments of happiness.

“We should get back to the roundhouse.” He glanced up at the sky, which seemed darker than usual for the hour. Now he saw why. A great bank of dark clouds massed on the western horizon like some vast, mountainous continent. “I fear we may be in for a storm.”

Grasping Genia's hand, he led her toward their usual trysting place beside the stairs to the quarterdeck. “We should take advantage of this opportunity. If we sail through rain, it may be some time before we can enjoy another stroll.”

“I wish we could have more time,” breathed Genia when he had backed her into their darkened corner, “and privacy to enjoy moments like these.”

“So do I.” Blade drizzled kisses down her neck and caressed her softly curved body through her light muslin gown. “I wish we could be cast away together on a deserted island.”

Genia ran her fingers through his hair and arched herself toward him. “What would you do with me there?”

Blade grazed her ear with his lips then flicked his tongue over it. “Slowly peel every scrap of clothes from your body to begin with.”

The mere thought made his shaft strain against the lap of his breeches.

“What then?” Genia's racing breath seemed to blow over the banked coals of his desire, whipping up a blaze.

“I would spend hours admiring every part of you.” His fingers caught at her skirt and hiked it up. “With my eyes and my hands.”

Reaching under the hem of her gown, he grazed the warm, smooth flesh of her thigh.

“With my mouth.” He pressed a fevered kiss upon her as his fingers played over the silken floss that crowned the crest of her legs.

Did he arouse her as devilishly as she aroused him? His forefinger found the hot, wet answer to that question. The discovery of her ripe willingness demolished his honorable intentions. The ravenous ache in his loins demanded he take her then and there—upright, pressed into a shadowed corner.

Greedily plundering her lips, he continued to stroke her with one hand while tearing at the buttons of his breeches with the other. He would plunge into her soft, moist depths and lose himself there!

The thunder of feet on the quarterdeck stairs jolted Blade back to his senses. What price would they pay for this indiscretion? He pictured Genia cruelly humiliated while he was forbidden to spend another moment alone with her.

The keening shriek that broke from her lips gave voice to his thwarted desire, too.

Wrenching his unwilling fingers from between her legs, he jerked down Genia's gown and hoisted her into his arms at such an angle that it hid his open breeches.

“Pardon me, sir…ma'am…” sputtered a young crewman.

“No need to apologize. Miss Vernon appears to have twisted her ankle.” Blade hoped the lad would attribute his ragged breathing to alarm for Genia's welfare. “I must get her back to the roundhouse at once.”

“Yes,” Genia gasped. “I could do with a cup of tea.”

Whether he believed their flimsy story or not, the young crewman pretended to. “Can I help, sir?”

“Good of you to ask, but that will not be necessary.” Relieved to have been saved from his baser urges, Blade resolved to express his gratitude in the form of such coveted items as patent soap and plug tobacco. “I will attend the lady.”

When the lad hurried away, Blade set Genia back on her feet and they hastily rearranged their disheveled clothing.

“Forgive me,” he muttered. “I did not mean to get carried away like that. I swear it will not happen again.”

He braced for her to berate him as he deserved. A few ardent embraces was one thing. Attempting to deflower her up against the wall like a cheap strumpet was something else entirely.

Blade was pleasantly dumbstruck when Genia slipped her arm through his and whispered, “Happen again! I'm not certain I can forgive you if it doesn't.”

 

What must Blade think of her after her scandalous suggestion and the wanton way she'd behaved on deck? That thought made Genia queasier than the rolling of the storm-tossed ship.

After their many long talks during the past weeks, she no longer suspected him of leading her on to make a fool of herself. Neither could she doubt his sincere desire for her. Yet she could not escape the conviction that there was something more behind his original coolness to her than he'd admitted. Had he been put off by her blatant pursuit? Considering how much more attentive he'd become when she resisted his charm, that explanation seemed all too likely.

But how could she continue to resist him when her lips tingled with the memory of every single kiss he'd pressed upon them? The mere thought of him made her breasts and thighs ache for his touch.

As Genia sat in a quiet corner of the roundhouse, rain lashed against the bank of windows that ran along the stern of the ship and heavy seas buffeted the
Hartwell.
Just as Blade had predicted, the storm had kept them cooped up in the roundhouse, unable to indulge their desires with even a hot, fleeting kiss. Genia felt like an oil-soaked rag that might burst into flame at the tiniest spark.

“You seem very subdued, Miss Vernon.” As if conjured by her thoughts, Blade suddenly appeared beside her. The warmth of his voice and the sultry shimmer of his gaze seemed to glide over her in a provocative caress. “Are you feeling ill from the turbulence of the ship? I could take your mind off it by reading to you.”

He pulled out a slender volume and sank onto the chair beside her. His nearness, his scent and the heat radiating from his body ignited a yearning she could barely contain. All that kept her from hurling herself upon him was the fear that it might drive him away.

“I am not seasick,” she murmured, “only dismayed that you have kept your distance from me since the other day. Were you offended by my forwardness? Do you only desire me when I shrink from you?”

“On the contrary.” Blade opened the book and pretended to read to her, though the ragged intensity of his voice betrayed desires smoldering dangerously close to the surface. “Your spirit and forthrightness are among the qualities I most admire in you. It is myself I do not trust in your company when you are so deliciously willing.”

“You're certain?” Genia searched his countenance for proof of his sincerity and found it in his ardent gaze.

When old Mr. Ramsey walked past them, Blade raised his voice and read an actual passage from the book. As soon as the man was out of earshot, he answered her question. “Quite certain. If your cabin were directly above mine, I fear I would have long since bored a hole in my ceiling to reach you.”

His words kindled a wanton heat between her thighs that begged for his touch. Margaret had told her what raptures awaited her in the arms of the right man. But even her friend's blushing, breathless descriptions had not prepared Genia for the sensation of Blade's deft fingers probing her body's most intimate secrets. That foretaste of the carnal delight had whetted her appetite for more. She longed to press her naked body against Blade's and feel his fingers and lips work their sensual magic upon her. She yearned to lie beneath him and take him deep inside her in the way Margaret had described.

“I would have welcomed you with open arms.” That provocative whisper had scarcely left her lips when a violent gust of briny wind blew in one of the window panes, dousing all the candles in the roundhouse at once.

At the very same instant, the ship listed at a steep angle, throwing Genia from her seat and flinging her across Blade's lap.

The other passengers cried out in shock, but she could think of nothing beyond the firm bulge of Blade's straining manhood against her belly and the reassuring strength of his hands as he grasped her around the waist. He must have been equally conscious of her alone, for he seized the unexpected opportunity to fondle her bottom. The rhythmic caress of his hand conveyed urgent yet tender yearning. It sent ripples of tingling heat radiating outward from her bottom to the rest of her body.

Genia writhed in the throes of reckless delight, even as the darkened roundhouse erupted in cries of alarm. Neither the peril of their situation nor the danger of discovery and disgrace mattered at that moment—only the urgent passion that racked her body, straining for release. Arching her bottom higher, she spread her legs, begging him to touch her there, as he had during their last furtive tryst. Blade obliged, pressing the light muslin of her skirts between her parted legs to swipe over the exquisitely sensitive opening to her moist passage that ached to be filled.

“The ship is going to sink!” wailed the vicar's niece. “We're all going to die!”

Though Genia knew it might be true, she did not share the girl's panic. If her life must be cut short, like Margaret's, she would rather die in Blade's arms than live a hundred years without him. Her only regret would be that she had not given herself to him.

The door of the roundhouse burst open and second mate staggered in bearing a lamp.

Wrenching his hand away from her backside, Blade tipped Genia upright and set her back on her chair. “You're not hurt, I hope?”