The Perfect Wife (19 page)

“Hell and damnation.” He groaned and pulled her into his arms. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, her lips greeted his.

He should be gentle, she was so obviously unused to such treatment, but the eagerness of her response shattered his restraint and spurred his desire. Her lips parted beneath his, and he savored the honey-sweet, sea-salt taste of her. His fingers entwined in the silky tresses at the nape of her neck and his hand splayed across the small of her back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and molded her body to his. Her books had failed to prepare her for the sheer, unadulterated forces sweeping aside all thoughts beyond touch and taste. It was more than she’d hoped for, more than she’d ever dared dream. The heat of his lips seared her to her very soul, and she strained toward him with the pent-up need of a lifetime. He shifted his hips against hers, and instinctively she responded, pressing closer in rhythm with the throbbing tension winding within her.

Shock shot through him at their embrace, made all the more intimate by the feeble protection of the breeches between them. He pulled away, his breath fast and uneven. Her eyes were glazed with desire, her face flushed with passion. Her breasts heaved beneath her shirt and singed his chest where they met.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Wynne.” His words rasped from his throat. “I suspect you have never been with a man.”

She tilted her face toward his. Her sultry voice belied her words. “If you are questioning my virginity, Captain, it is intact.”

He pulled a steadying breath. Deflowering virgins, even those past the first stare of youth and willing to boot, was not a job he relished. In spite of the larceny in his soul, he considered himself an honorable man. There was something distinctly dishonorable about bedding Bree’s sister-in-law. But, oh, God, she was lovely, and the passion within her tempted so close to the surface. So ready for the right man to—“Wynne, I don’t think—”

“Captain,” she feathered kisses on the base of his throat and he swallowed convulsively, “I believe we are far past time for thinking.”

“Wynne, I—”

“Let’s not think, shall we?” She moved to the sensitive spot behind his ear and nibbled delicately.

He shuddered. “I wouldn’t want your brother to say I seduced you.”

She laughed softly. “Are you at all certain it is you doing the seducing?”

In one last attempt to dissuade her, he gathered his fraying senses, caught her hands with his and pulled her to face him. “Wynne, this is not one of your books,” he said harshly. “There is no love here. This is passion and lust and need. Nothing more.”

Her gaze locked with his and slowly she raised his hand, still clasping hers, to her lips. Her manner bewitching and provocative, she rubbed his knuckle along her lower lip, her eyes never breaking with his. His blood pounded in his veins and he groaned aloud, his good intentions melting under her touch.

He jerked her back into his arms and bent his mouth to hers. “You realize I will not marry you.”

“No, Captain,” she said, scarcely a whisper against his lips. “
I
will not marry
you
.”

He stared for a moment, released her and stepped back. “I’ll be in my cabin tonight.”

She smiled serenely, as if nothing had passed between them but an amusing conversation. Only the stormy fervor in her eyes revealed differently. “I shall no doubt see you later then, Captain.” She favored him with a polite bob of her head.

Matt nodded briskly, turned on his heel and strode off. He ached with desire and did not welcome the long hours until evening. Her words echoed in his head. He wondered exactly what she meant, why it nagged at him and why he cared.

No, Captain. I will not marry you.

“Nicholas ... we cannot... we must not... not here ...” Sabrina gasped out the words, her protests sinking beneath a haze of arousal.

Nicholas’s lips explored the crook of her neck. “This side of the deck is deserted tonight, my love. There is no one to see us here save the moon and stars.” He impatiently brushed the sleeve of her shirt over her shoulder, and chills shivered through her at the touch of his mouth.

“Dear Lord, Nicholas, I have missed you.” She slipped her hand into the opening of his shirt and ran her fingers through the rough mat of hair over the hard planes of his chest. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers and he moaned softly.

“Sabrina.” He drew her closer, and her palms flattened between them. His mouth possessed hers and her lips opened eagerly in response. Urgency consumed her and she thrust her tongue to meet his, hungry and demanding. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pressed her body tight to his, desperate for his heat. He shifted against her, his manhood insistent behind the layers of clothing that shielded one from another, man from woman, husband from wife.

He pulled open her shirt, freeing her breasts to his plundering mouth. He bent to taste, to savor, first one and then the other. She gasped at the exquisite sensations and strained closer. Desire burned within her and she wanted much, much more.

“Nicholas... could we ... here ... now?”

“Sabrina ... how ... could we not?” He fumbled for the laces at her waist. Blessedly, they released, and he slid his hand under her breeches and down her stomach to cup the moist folds at the juncture of her thighs. She moaned and sagged against him, her breathing ragged with desire.

“Hell bells, Billy, the capt’n ain’t gonna like that none.”

The voices came from nowhere, nearly upon them, quelling their passion like a bucket of sea water. It would not do to be caught like rutting animals.

Nicholas recovered first, struggling to right Sabrina’s clothing. She could do little more than lean against him, drained by unfulfilled need.

The sailors barely glanced at them in passing, too involved were they in their discussion over the captain’s displeasure at whatever minor disaster had befallen.

Sabrina smiled weakly and pushed her disheveled hair away from her face. “I fear I am no longer the reserved lady you selected for a wife.”

He released a long breath of frustration. “Bloody hell, Sabrina. I want to be alone with you. I need to be alone with you.”

“It does seem the ship has become rather crowded of late.”

“Erick occupies my cabin, barely conscious and weak as a kitten in the bargain. You share quarters with my sister and your daughter. Only that blasted Madison has a cabin for himself alone.”

“He is the captain....” A captain who Sabrina suspected no longer spent evenings in his cabin alone. Last night she had spied Wynne sneaking out of their room, apparently under the assumption that all were asleep. Sabrina had noted her return barely before dawn. All day Wynne had wandered the ship with a secret smile on her lips and a faraway look in her eye. As for Matt, each time Sabrina approached his manner was gruff and preoccupied; he was not at all his usual self. She was certain something had passed between the two, and equally certain it would spell disaster to even hint at her suspicions to Nicholas.

“You know him well, do you not?” His unexpected question jerked her from her thoughts.

“What?”

“Madison,” Nicholas said impatiently. “How well do you know him?”

“Matt? Well...” She chose her words with care. “We were friends long ago. Although I have not seen him for many years, I still hold him in high regard. Somewhat like—”

“I know, I know, a blasted brother. We have been through that before.” His tone softened and his eyes glowed in the starlight. “He calls you Bree.”

“A childhood name. Americans seem quite fond of informal family names.”

“It suits you.” He paused for a moment. “But you were involved in some kind of business dealings with him, were you not?” He tossed the query off indifferently, as if the answer did not matter. Unease shivered down her spine. He was seeking something beyond a simple answer to the outwardly innocent question.

“Oh, la, Nicholas.” She winced to herself at the insipid phrase. “That was all so very long ago, I scarce remember any of the details. My solicitor handled much of the endeavor for me.” The lie tripped easily off her tongue in as convincing a manner as she could manage. How many more would she have to tell?

He seemed satisfied with her response and nodded thoughtfully. “In your ventures with him, did you ever wonder if he might be involved in something illicit? Did he perhaps mention smuggling?”

“Smuggling?” She forced a carefree laugh from a throat at once dry and tight with tension. “Whyever would you ask that?”

He shrugged and pulled her back into his arms. “Bits and pieces of a puzzle I have fought to unravel for the past decade. A failure, I fear, on my own part that I wish to rectify.”

“Failure?” She leaned against his chest and tried to slow her rapid breathing to the beat of his heart.

He sighed. “Surely you do not want to hear—”

“Oh, but I do.” She had to learn how much he knew, how much he suspected, for Matt’s safety and her own. But it was more than the need to safeguard her secret. Since the moment she’d discovered her past connection with Nicholas, curiosity had gnawed at her. What were his remembrances of that fateful night? Did he dream of her through the years as she had of him? Or did he despise her as a criminal, and possibly a traitor?

“Very well.” He paused, as if gathering his memories. “It was during the war. A period when I was charged with the apprehension of a daring band of smugglers. I was unable to complete my mission.” He fell silent. “They were led by a woman.”

“A woman?” Her breath caught in her throat. “How very odd.”

He rested his chin lightly on the top of her head. “She was extraordinary. Clever and courageous. Ultimately, I had to admire her.”

“You admired her?” she said faintly.

“Once. She was unlike any woman I had ever encountered. Intriguing and unique.” His embrace tightened. “She haunted my dreams now and again. Until I met you.”

“Me?” Sabrina held her breath.

“You too are unique.” He laughed. “I find I have quite enough to handle with one unusual female on my hands. There is no room left, even in my dreams, for another.”

Her heart leapt with joy, then plummeted. His words were pretty enough, but he was a man accomplished in plying women with fine phrases. He was well versed in lust but untouched by love and, very likely, the way he would remain. She’d already accepted that fact; she merely had to remember.

Foolish though it was to pursue his suspicions of Matt, Sabrina pressed forward. “What does all this have to do with Matt?”

“I believe he was involved with her.”

“I imagine Matt has been involved with countless women through the years,” she said, the lightness of her tone belying the tautness of her nerves. “Why do you believe he has something to do with your mysterious lady?”

Nicholas was silent, and Sabrina stifled the impulse to pull out of his arms and search his gaze with hers. As much as she wanted to see the expression on his beloved face, she did not dare reveal even a hint of the fear his comments aroused. She longed to read his thoughts in his eyes, but she could not permit him to read hers.

Nicholas’s words were measured and considering. “It came to me while I was recovering from that blow on the head. The name of the ship, this ship—” fear squeezed her heart “—is that of the woman.
Lady B
. It cannot be a mere coincidence.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper. “The ship was named for his sister, was it not?”

“Hah. Madison has no sister. I am certain of it.”

“None ... save me.” The words escaped unbidden from her lips, and her breath caught.

Nicholas chuckled softly and pulled her closer. “You are his sister only in the depth of his affection. No, I feel certain the ship is named for the woman. And if I have Madison, I shall soon have her.”

Panic crept into the back of her mind and she struggled to keep it at bay. “And then?”

Nicholas hesitated. “And then ... bring her to justice? Clap her in irons? Toss her into Newgate and throw away the key? I do not know. Yet. I only know her apprehension would set to rest an unresolved question in my life. Close the book, if you will, on a chapter whose ending has been left unwritten for a decade. I will redeem myself.” He laughed harshly. “If only in my own eyes. If, of course, I can find her.”

Sabrina swallowed back the terror rising in her throat. What would happen to her—to them—if Nicholas ever learned that he already had?

Egypt was at once more and less than Wynne had expected. The country was far less civilized than she had anticipated, considering that the land’s inhabitants had once ruled the known world. For an Englishwoman unused to travel and accustomed to modern conveniences, Egypt presented unforeseen challenges. They were forced to leave the ship in Abukir Bay in sweltering, dusty Alexandria and board a bargelike boat for a nearly five-day journey through the lush Nile delta, upriver to Cairo.

The Nile flowed at a leisurely pace, as if, having seen man’s triumphs and failures for eons, it somehow knew the futility of speed and the inevitability of time itself. Life along the banks of the ancient land existed much the same as it had hundreds, even thousands of years ago. The sluggish pace gave Wynne the chance to observe for herself what she’d only read of, a fascinating, if somewhat relaxed, introduction to her new life of adventure. And each engrossing detail was duely noted in her ever expanding journal.

Cairo itself was much more than even her fertile imagination could conjure. The city rose majestically from the flat of the delta like an improbable vision spun of golden light and magic. Minarets climbed heavenward, rising out of an ever-present blanket of smoke surely cast from the city’s cooking fires and not an enchanted mist sent from the gods to remind lowly mortals of the fragility of life and the splendor that had been the pharaohs.

The city was the crossroads of half the world. Caravans headed to Kashmir, Damascus, Timbuktu, and their trade was the lifeblood of the bazaars of Cairo, crowded with goods useless or priceless or both. Nicholas whisked their party through the streets so quickly, Wynne barely caught a glimpse of the kaleidoscope of exotic sights and sounds. She was determined to explore this mystical city in depth before she left.

They were to lodge in the European quarter. It was not substantially nicer than many neighborhoods they had traveled through, although perhaps better kept. It had the additional attraction of huge wooden doors that closed off the homes in times of plague or riot. But the expected accommodations were not available, and the company proceeded to Bulak, Cairo’s main port. Here, the wealthy built grand summer palaces complete with oasis gardens offering cool, green sanctuaries from the sun and the stifling heat.

Nicholas had managed to procure a villa for their short stay. They had slept there last night and would begin the trek down the Nile as soon as he and Erick returned from acquiring the permits necessary in this country to so much as turn a spade in the sand, regardless of whether one searched for modern gold or half-forgotten antiquities. In deference to the boy’s affliction, it was decided to forgo further water travel and instead follow alongside the path of the river on solid ground. Sabrina and her daughter now busied themselves in their quarters. Wynne stood alone in the garden, enjoying the tropical plantings and the soothing shade.

Matt had told her of Sabrina’s quest, delighting Wynne that her first real adventure would indeed live up to her dreams. Matt too fulfilled her fantasies. The American was the bold, brash embodiment of every hero she’d ever encountered in print. Daring and more than a little dangerous, her captain stoked fires of unforeseen fervor and unexplored emotion. Their days were filled with secret, urgent glances, their nights charged with forbidden passion and the glories of touch and taste and soul-searing sensation.

Surely she was in love. Nothing else could explain the leaping of her heart or the unsettled tremors of her body whenever he so much as glanced her way. Still, it would not do to reveal her feelings to him. She’d read enough through the years to know that the way to lose such a hero was to declare herself. Wynne did not dare hope their time together would be lengthy. He had already told her he would not accompany them into the desert. Her practical nature decreed that she accept what they shared for the moment and not anticipate the future. She suspected their parting would be painful, but even agony was a small price to pay for this soaring emotion she had no doubt was love.

His scent, of man and heat and desire, embraced her a scant second before his arms. She relaxed against him with a contented sigh.

He murmured in her ear, “We don’t have to go with them, you know. We could stay here in Cairo. Just the two of us. It’s an exciting place, Wynne. A place just right for your adventures.”

She laughed and twisted to face him. His azure eyes sparkled in the sun, and her stomach fluttered at the need emblazoned there. “But, Captain, even for a city as magnificent as this, I could not sacrifice such a venture. A search for lost treasure among the pyramids of Egypt? It is an opportunity that shall likely never come again.”

“Couldn’t you give it up,” he paused, and his gaze searched hers, “for me?”

Her heart leapt to her throat, and she willed herself to remain calm. “I daresay you cannot wish to shepherd a spinster, a woman no longer in her youth, for very long.” The light words belied the yearning within her. “You would surely tire of the connection and then we should part. And I would have missed the exceedingly grand adventure we are about to embark upon.”

“Wynne, I—”

“Wynne? Matt?” Sabrina’s call shattered the fragile moment, and they broke apart like children caught at mischief. No doubt Sabrina suspected what had passed between them. Wynne had caught her sister-in-law studying her with a considering expression in recent days. Sabrina had apparently not mentioned her observations to Nicholas. Her brother would no doubt not take their affections kindly and would very likely call Matt out. Wynne did not know who would win such an encounter and had no desire to put it to the test.

“There you are.” Sabrina rounded a curve in the path and approached. “Wynne, could you help Belinda? She is attempting to pack her bag and failing miserably. I cannot comprehend why she insisted on bringing the vast amount of clothing that she has. If we could convince her to abandon her gowns for the more practical guise of men’s apparel as you and I have, life would be much simpler for us all.”

“I’ll see what assistance I can lend.” Wynne cast a last lingering look at Matt and hurried off.

Matt stared after her, his manner moody and intense. Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “I have scarce had a moment alone with you in the past week. We must talk, Matt.”

Matt’s gaze still focused on his last sight of Wynne. “Talk away, Bree. You have my undivided attention.”

“Hardly.”

His gaze flicked to hers and he sighed. “What is it?”

“It’s Nicholas.” Sabrina drew a deep breath. “He knows, Matt.”

Matt’s eyes hardened, and he shrugged. “I’m not surprised. He was bound to find out sooner or later. I am somewhat amazed I haven’t heard any explosions. And so far he hasn’t threatened to kill me or worse.” His tone softened. “I would hate to do that to her.”

Confusion underlaid her words. “To her? To whom? What are you talking about?”

Matt frowned and glared. “What are
you
talking about?”

“I am talking about you and me and the past. I am talking about our previous involvement.” Sarcasm mingled with irritation and permeated her tone. “Perhaps you have forgotten our little business dealings? The cliffs? The sea? The midnight meetings? The unquestionable illegality of it all? Bloody hell, Matt, the smuggling. He knows about the smuggling. He does not yet know of my connection, but he knows about you.”

Relief colored Mart’s face. “So he knows. At this late date I doubt if there’s much he can do about it. We’re not on English soil and I’m not English.”

Was Matt always this obtuse? Why could she not make him understand? She pulled a steadying breath and tried again. “Perhaps I have not explained this clearly. He knows about you because of the name of the ship.” She fired an angry glare at him. “The ship you oh-so-kindly named for me.”

“You’ve never thanked me for that.” He grinned insolently.

“And I never will. It has proven to be the root of all his suspicions.”

“I still don’t understand—”

“Matt, Nicholas was the agent. The government agent who nearly uncovered my operation.” She groaned. “The man I had bashed over the head, twice, and left on the beach.” Her voice rose. “The man I kissed in the cave.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You never told me you kissed him.”

“Well, I did. It was an impulse, regrettable and foolish.” Sabrina folded her arms over her chest. Odd that Nicholas had not mentioned the kiss in recounting his tale. Why would he omit that one detail? She wrinkled her nose. “He no doubt thinks Lady B is not merely a criminal but a slut as well. He has spent the last ten years dwelling on his perceived failure to capture me.”

Amazement stamped Mart’s face. “And this is the man you married?”

She nodded miserably.

“Bree, I—” He laughed, and she stared in disbelief. His laughter swelled and he doubled over, clutching his sides. Her irritation grew in proportion to his mirth. “You married the one man in all of England, possibly in the entire world, who would like nothing better than to throw you in prison?” He wiped a gleeful tear from his eye. “Oh, that’s rich, Bree; that’s really rich.”

Anger at his cavalier attitude surged through her. “I am not the only one keeping secrets from Nicholas. How do you think he’d react to the knowledge of your seducing his sister?”

Matt stilled. “I love her, Bree.”

Sabrina scoffed. “I scarcely believe that, Matt. You are not the kind of man to fall head over heels for any woman. Wynne is lovely, but her intelligence outshines her pretty face. I cannot believe such a woman would suit you.”

A poignant smile touched his lips. “It does sound rather far-fetched, but it’s true. She’s smart and beautiful and altogether remarkable, and I can’t see my life without her in it.” He sighed. “The problem is, I don’t think she can see her life with me in it.”

Sabrina pulled her brows together. “I can certainly understand that. Still, most woman so firmly on the shelf would be delighted by an offer from anyone, even you.”

He shook his head. “I haven’t asked her, but she’s already made it clear she’s not interested in marriage. She has some foolish notions about traveling the world in search of adventure. I’m afraid I’m not in her plans.”

“But you wish to be?” Sabrina said softly.

His gaze met hers. His eyes echoed the blue of the sea, and Sabrina noted a haunted edge in their depths. “More than anything, Bree.” He laughed again, and this time the sound rang bitter and harsh. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? Here in Cairo, where everything, every product, every experience and a fair number of human beings as well has its price, I’ve recognized the one thing I want most in the world. And it’s not for purchase at any cost.”

He pulled his gaze from hers and stared off in the distance. “That’s why I’ve decided not to go with you, Bree. Gold or no gold, I don’t think I could stand watching her on her first adventure and knowing it’s all we’ll ever have.”

“I’ve never known you to be a coward, Matt.”

“It just seems best, that’s all,” he said, resignation and pain in his voice. Matt fell silent, and Sabrina was at a loss for words. He appeared so forlorn, she no longer doubted his sincerity. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and turned to her. “Does Nicholas love you, Bree?”

She smiled wistfully. “I wish I knew. Sometimes, when I am in his arms, I think surely he must. But he is so accomplished with women, so experienced, he always knows what to say and precisely how to say it. I cannot trust any words of love he speaks. They fall far too freely from his lips.”

“So you don’t know what he’d do if he discovered the notorious Lady B and his new wife are one in the same?”

“The very thought terrifies me. I would prefer to live the rest of my life with this secret rather than confront his condemnation.” She paused and gathered her thoughts. “I would rather dwell in a fool’s world, hoping against hope that love for me would overcome his sense of duty and honor, than know for certain it would not.”

“It was a long time ago, Bree,” Matt said gently. “Don’t you think he’s put all this behind him?”

She shook her head sadly. “We spoke of it on board ship. He has not forgotten.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Or forgiven.”

“I’ll keep your secret, Bree.”

“I know you will, Matt.” She smiled through eyes blurred with unbidden tears. “You always have.”

It was surely a land forged in hell, that hot, parched, bloody uncomfortable country. Dark-robed heathens swelled the streets of Cairo in an endless stream of what passed for humanity in that God-forsaken land.

Still, there was something to be said for the uncivilized world. A few meager coins bought loyalty and information. He had hirelings watching for Sabrina’s party since he first arrived in the city. Now he not only knew of their preparations, he had learned their general direction of travel.

His idiotic companions wanted to confront Wyldewood and Sabrina while they were all still in Cairo. But he argued that it would be far more advantageous to greet her away from the distractions and interruptions of the city. The others agreed to bide their time and trail behind her party, waiting until the right moment for their encounter.

They had come up with a far-fetched scheme to marry her and thereby save her reputation. At first it seemed ludicrous, but after due consideration he realized it fit in nicely with his own plans. If he were to wed Lady Stanford, all she possessed, including the gold, would, of course, be his. And bedding the fair lady would be a delightful bonus. The thought tempted him to laugh aloud with lecherous anticipation.

It appeared even hell had its pleasures.

“I shall not set so much as a foot upon that filthy beast.” Belinda glared with disgust at the kneeling camel, which returned her stare with an equally malevolent gaze.

“I daresay it’s not your foot that should concern you most.” Erick’s mild observation earned him the withering look previously reserved for the creature in question.

“Mother!” Belinda’s voice rose. “I cannot ride a camel. I simply cannot.”

“You can and you shall,” Sabrina said in her best no-nonsense voice.