The Notorious Lady Anne: A Loveswept Historical Romance (29 page)

Nicholas’s breaths became pants against her skin. His hips moved in rhythm with hers, his erection pressing against the back of her leg, hard and hot.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

She arched her back, thrusting her mound into his hand and screamed his name, pumping and grinding as the world temporarily went black and Nicholas whispered in her ear, “Yes, yes, yes.”

When she finally opened her eyes, her muscles were weak and she didn’t have the energy to lift her head from Nicholas’s shoulder.

He moved her, positioned her and suddenly he was inside her, a low growl erupting from him. His fingers had never left her and they began moving again.

Surprisingly, it felt good and another explosion crept up on her. Drained from the first, she could do nothing but rest her body against his and let the sensation overtake her. His strokes were long and slow, pulling almost all the way out before slowly, frustratingly slowly, inching his way back in. His fingers pressed against her nub, and with his hardened member inside her, the feeling almost drove her over the edge. She forced herself to remain still, making it that much more wonderful.

His breathing quickened as well as his strokes, and she knew he was as close as she was. A keening cry erupted from her as yet another wave washed over her, more intense for the fact she wasn’t moving with it.

“Ah, God, Emmaline.” Nicholas jerked frantically and cried out, the sound echoing off the stone walls. He pulled out and his seed squirted against her leg.

For long moments they remained back to front as the sounds of their lovemaking faded. Emmaline didn’t want to think too hard about the fact that each time they’d made love, Nicholas pulled out at the last moment. He didn’t want to get her with child. She understood and even condoned it, but a small part of her mourned it as well. For to be with his child meant she would have a constant link to him. A small part of him he would leave behind when they parted ways.

She began to shiver despite their heated lovemaking.

“Let’s get into the sun.” He began pulling her with him, under the waterfall and into the bright sunshine. But the rays didn’t warm her as he’d probably hoped they would. Her chill went deeper than skin level, all the way to her soul.

They walked out of the water arm in arm. Nicholas flopped down on the rock and sighed. At some point he’d shed his underclothes, and Emmaline had no idea where they got off to.

She lay beside him, facing him. Droplets of water clung to his lashes, small diamonds reflecting the sun. She put her hand on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart. Contentment washed through her, accompanied by the familiar panic of getting too close. But instead of running, as she’d done that morning, she stayed where she was, intent on enjoying this moment and not thinking about the next.

Nicholas turned on his side and touched her cheek, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth, but his eyes were serious, making her heart thump loudly.

His chest rose and fell on a deep sigh. Her contentment quickly faded to another sort of panic. Their time together was drawing to a close. The sunlight was waning, and soon they would have to dress and return to the house. Soon Nicholas would have to leave for good.

“I have to tell you something, Emmaline.”

Her mouth dried up. The sun hid behind a cloud, chilling her. She didn’t like the sound of his voice, or his words. All her life she’d trusted her instincts. Instincts that told her to find her father, instincts that told her to follow James Sutherland. Instincts that told her, when she met
Nicholas at Dorothy’s ball, she should keep a close eye on him. Now her instincts were screaming that she didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

“I know you’ve been searching for a way to discover the shipping route of one of Blackwell’s ships. I have something even better.”

She blinked, her mind too sluggish to handle the conversational switch. “Pardon?”

He looked away, guilt in his eyes, and Emmaline grew even colder.

“I have something better. Something you’ll be interested in.”

She sat up. “What do you mean?” Her voice sounded small, weak. She hated that she felt weak.

He sat up as well, and despite his nakedness, Captain Addison had returned. Damn him. He’d said he wanted today to be about Nicholas and Emmaline, not Captain Addison and Lady Anne, yet here he was, back in his captain persona, leaving her feeling alone and scared and off-balance.

“I have what you’ve been looking for. A way to destroy Blackwell.”

“You said you didn’t want me to destroy Blackwell. Why the change?”

He reached for her hand but she drew away from him, wishing she were fully clothed. Being naked meant she was vulnerable, and while that had been fine behind the waterfall, Nicholas changed the rules of the game, leaving her on guard, the trust she’d given him not minutes ago evaporating.

“Emmaline, please.”

She reached for her shirt and shrugged it on. It was a slight improvement, but she didn’t feel any less vulnerable. And yet, despite his bad timing, she wanted to know. “What information do you have?”

“Before I left London, Kenmar told me of a shipment of gold leaving the colonies for India.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, causing her tender breasts to brush against the fabric. “My contacts told me the same information. When is the ship leaving and from what port?”

He shook his head. “Before I tell you, I must ask you to promise me something.”

Shivers raced up her spine and her instincts screamed a warning.
Think, Emmaline. Why is Nicholas willing to give you this information now? If it’s in payment for services rendered …
She couldn’t even finish the thought, it was so horrible.

“What sort of promise?”

“I will give you the information, but you have to promise you will …” He paused and her heart nearly stopped. This was it. He was going to ask her to become his mistress, or at the very least ask for one more night together, and God help her, she was considering it. She wanted to be with him again, and yet was terrified at the same time. What they had couldn’t last. Eventually he would leave her. He had to. He needed a woman able to glide through the shark-infested waters of society, not the shark-infested waters of the ocean.

“Promise what?” Her throat was thick, her voice strained.

“You have to promise to give up pirating after this is over.”

Emmaline jumped up. “You bastard. You self-serving bilge-sucker. How dare you?” She swept her arm out to the water. “Is that what this was all about? Did you think because you … you … you
rutted
with me, you could control me?” Inwardly she winced at her choice of words. What they’d done was much more beautiful than rutting, yet she wanted to lash out at him, to hurt him as he’d hurt her. She wanted to hit him and she wanted to cry at the same time.

Nicholas stood, looking wary and angry. “That’s not what this was about, and you know it.”

“You want to go to Kenmar and tell him you neutralized the threat to his beloved investment. That you saved Blackwell.” She sneered as she mentioned her father’s name, hatred boiling in her. “And you used sex to do it.”

Nicholas flinched. “That’s not it at all—”

“Well, you’re wrong. Sex isn’t going to stop me from doing what I need to do.” Her throat closed up, but she swallowed past the lump, refusing to let him see how much he’d devastated her. She’d thought … She’d hoped what happened between them meant as much to him as it did to her. And to think she’d even entertained the thought of becoming his mistress. Mortified, she spun on her heel and searched for her breeches, snagging them off a bush. With angry motions she yanked them on.

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice was tight, controlled. He was angry, but she couldn’t care less. She was beyond angry. She was furious.
No one
controlled her.

He picked up his breeches and stepped into them.

She located one boot and picked it up, pointing it at Nicholas. “I don’t bargain with the enemy.”

He paused while buttoning his breeches. “So that’s what I am now? The enemy?”

“You’re Kenmar’s lackey and Kenmar wants to stop me.”

He set his jaw and finished fastening his breeches. All the contentment and warmth she felt a minute ago vanished. She was bone-deep weary and white-hot enraged.

“Kenmar has nothing to do with this,” he said.

“Of course he does, and you’re foolish to think you can control me this way.”

“I can’t dispute the foolish claim, but this isn’t to control you. This has to end, Emmaline.”

“It will end when Daniel Blackwell is destroyed.” Her voice rose until she was nearly yelling, and her words resounded through the trees, silencing the birds.

“I’m handing you the key to his destruction.” He wasn’t yelling, and his tight control made her feel even more out of control.

Her other boot was a few feet away, halfway under a different bush. “I fear your price is too high.”

“That’s it? You don’t care about the gold?”

Hopping on one foot, she pulled her boot on. “I care. But I can’t accept your conditions.”

“You’re a stubborn woman.”

“That’s how I got where I am today.”

He tilted his head and those dark blue eyes seemed to see right through her. “And where are you?”

She forced a smile and spread her arms. “Why right here, on the most beautiful island in the Caribbean, living in a house that would be the envy of London society, with servants I
trust
. Where would I be without pirating, Captain Addison? At least this way I get to choose my destiny.”

He stared at her a few more moments, the intensity of it making her want to squirm. “This way you get to choose your demise.”

Nicholas watched Emmaline stomp away, her back straight, her shoulders stiff. But he had seen
the hurt in her eyes, the pain of what she considered betrayal, and he cursed out loud. He was an idiot for bringing this up now. He should have waited, but there would never be a right time. He wanted this to end. He wanted her safe, but he also knew she would never stop until Blackwell was destroyed. By offering her the tools to destroy Blackwell, Nicholas hoped to end this quickly, and bring her to safety even more quickly. But he hadn’t thought about her reaction. Oh, he knew she’d be furious, but he had never considered the possibility that she’d think he’d used their lovemaking as a way to convince her.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He’d ruined everything. Now she knew he’d been withholding information from her, and he was willing to use the information to control her. He did want to control her. But only for her own good.

He swept up the basket and blanket and started after her. He heard her thrashing through the trees, muttering to herself, and caught a few curse words and epithets regarding him and his ancestry. Despite the panic building inside him, he smiled.

She suddenly stopped thrashing and he hurried to catch up. If she managed to get to the house before him he would never be able to talk to her, to convince her that her reasoning was flawed. Mayhap he shouldn’t present it in such a fashion.
Flawed
might not be a word she would be open to hearing. Even if it was the correct word.

He burst through the trees and almost ran her over. She was standing still, staring up at the house and Peter Lansing.

Bloody hell
.

Nicholas transferred the basket and blanket to one hand and wound his arm around her waist. She tensed but didn’t step away.

“Lansing.” Nicholas used his best aristocratic voice, and practically looked down his nose at the man. Normally he detested people who acted this way, but this situation called for it.

Lansing’s gaze skipped from Emmaline to Nicholas and back to Emmaline. Ah, hell. She’d dressed in such a hurry, her shirt was wet from her dripping hair. Wet, and practically transparent. Nicholas dropped the basket and whipped the blanket around her shoulders.

“Mrs. Sutherland.” Lansing dipped his head toward her before turning icy eyes to Nicholas. “Addison.”

Emmaline, apparently at a loss for words, remained silent while Lansing looked at her expectantly.

“Mrs. Sutherland and I spent the day relaxing by the water.” Nicholas allowed his tone to convey the implication of what they were truly doing. Lansing needed to understand that Emmaline was completely off-limits, and completely Nicholas’s. He tightened his hold at the thought. She wasn’t his, but now wasn’t the time to think about that.

Lansing raised his brows and looked her up and down, starting at the men’s boots she wore, and moving to the men’s breeches. “I see,” he sniffed.

“To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Nicholas asked, wishing he could boot Lansing off the property.

“I came to invite you two to the Governor’s Ball being held next week. I thought it a prime time to announce your betrothal. Surely by then the news of your betrothal will have reached your family.” Lansing barely contained a smirk.

“I don’t think—”

“That’s kind of you.” Nicholas quickly spoke over Emmaline. No use giving the man more ammunition to increase his doubts concerning their betrothal. “We would be honored, wouldn’t we?” He turned to Emmaline. Her eyes narrowed but she gave a jerky nod.