The Prize (35 page)

"Why not?"
she gasped, and then she was so angry her fists balled up. His gaze moved to
them, then back to her own eyes. "I am not a whore. Or have you really
forgotten that you took my virginity, Devlin?"

He flinched and their
gazes held, and unfortunately,
Virginia
thought him to be far more in
control of any emotion than she was.

"How can I
forget," he asked, "when you are forever reminding me?"

She ached to slap
him. She did not. "I think that night precluded any possibility of my
ever falling in love with Sean."

"Why?"

"Why?" She
was in disbelief.

"Yes, I asked
why. The past needs to remain dead and buried,
Virginia
, and very shortly you will be free to go
where you please. You were very sad to leave Askeaton—and Sean."

Virginia
hesitated, still incredulous,
hurt and angry.
He is not indifferent to you. It is a sham, a pretense.

She couldn't believe
Sean, but dear God, she wanted to. But if he cared at all, why would he be
doing this? Why would he be pushing her toward his brother? Softly staring at
him, she said, "There is magic at Askeaton, Devlin. In the five months I
have been there, it has come to feel like my home."

His gray eyes were
impossible to read. Then his mouth twisted into a parody of a smile.
"Well, that is good. Because when the ransom has been delivered, you may
return there happily, if that is what you wish."

"Is it
guilt?" she asked. "Is it guilt that drives you now? Do you think to
have your brother clean up the mess of your making?"

"That's
enough," he said harshly.

"That's it,
isn't it?" she cried, stunned. "It's guilt! You have some heart after
all! You said you were sorry—Sean says you

are sorry—you even
said you deserved that slap. So you know you have behaved monstrously. But you
would never offer marriage—not that I wish you to!" she added hastily.
"But if Sean did, why, how convenient for you! You could forget there was
a day when you became the kind of man your mother would not recognize, that
your mother would—"

He seized her by both
shoulders. "Enough."

She tensed, the grasp
of his large hands causing her heart to slam, and for one moment, her body
shifted toward him, expecting him to pull her close and kiss her. Instantly,
her mind told her otherwise and she pulled back. As instantly, his gaze
plunging to her mouth, he let her go.

"Never bring up
the subject of Lady de Warenne again," he warned.

She hesitated.
"I met her."

He paled.

Oh-ho, this was
interesting indeed! "She is a very kind woman. I liked her very
much."
Virginia
became sly.

"I am going to
kill Sean," he said.

She grabbed his arm,
but he was too close, too male, and it was not a good idea, so she dropped her
hand quickly. "It was not Sean's fault! They came calling as they had
heard of our engagement."

"Our
engagement?" he gasped.

Virginia
stared and then she had to try
very hard not to smile. She had thrown him off balance, and God, it felt so
damn good. So she did not reply; far more slyly, she waited.

"We are not
engaged," he choked out.

She was enjoying this
moment. She wished to engrave it in stone. She smiled and shrugged, refusing to
clear up the misunderstanding.

"Jesus, the
people," he said. "It must be all over the village, the town, that
you are my fiancée."

"I
suppose," she murmured.

"Why are you
grinning like the Cheshire cat?" he snapped. "We both know I
fabricated that story to save your pretty little neck."

He liked her neck?
"You find
my neck pretty?" "Is that what they still think? My mother and
Adare?" She sighed. "No, Devlin, that is not what they think."
The coach became very silent, very tense. She looked at him. His silver eyes
were hard and unwavering. She shivered. "Sean chose his words with
care." Then she gave up. "Well, what do you expect! To take your
blood enemy's niece hostage and fool your family, who live but a dozen miles
away?" He cursed.

"This is all of
your own making," she reminded him sweetly.

He gave her a dark
glance. "The sooner I break
Eastleigh
,
the better. The sooner you are gone, the better," he added as darkly.

His words did hurt,
when she knew better, and they also somehow dismayed her. Carefully, she said,
"You are right. And when I am ransomed, I am going home to Sweet Briar— I
can hardly wait." But the odd truth was that she hadn't thought very much
about her home in these past few months. Memories that had once been a lifeline
had become vague and distant, replaced by the day-to-day existence she had
shared at Askeaton with Devlin and then Sean. "If it still exists,"
she added grimly.

Once at sea, its main
sails unfurled, the
Defiance
took off, fighting the rain and the sea,
tacking across the wind to the south.
Virginia
did not like being back in his cabin. His presence was everywhere, powerful,
heavy and overwhelming. She sat down at the dining table, finally overcome with
confusion and the gravest of doubt. A part of her so wished to tame the beast
and eventually heal it, but she had no confidence, and Devlin's continued insistence
that she should marry his brother did not help. She suspected he felt guilty,
but he was so arrogant, so impossible to read, that he left her feeling
terribly uncertain and terribly naive. She wished the conversation with Sean
had never taken place.

By dusk, the rain had
ceased and the skies had cleared, the seas growing calm and sweet.
Virginia
dined alone, not surprised that
her captor was avoiding her—she knew that much, at least—and then, donning a
pelisse, she slipped from the cabin.

Devlin was at the
helm, although he did not steer the ship. He stood beside a sailor she
recognized, his strong legs braced, facing the prow and the stars shining
ahead.
Virginia
hesitated, her heart quickening,
and then she walked over to the quarterdeck. As she climbed up, he turned.

She took the last
step, expecting him to order her away, but he met her gaze, his eyes a flash of
silver in the twilight, with a mere inclination of his head.
Virginia
walked over to him. "It's a
fine night for sailing," she breathed, meaning it. Behind them, the moon
was rising in the east, a spectacular sight.

Devlin seemed to
flinch, though she could not be sure. But he glanced at the rising moon and
nodded. "Yes, it is. We'll have a moderate breeze for an hour or two and
we must make use of it. It's a good fourteen knots."

She studied him as he
stared ahead. He had removed his naval uniform sometime ago and wore only a
loose shirt with his britches and boots.
How she would love to be in his
strong arms again.

Virginia
started with guilt, dismayed by
her wayward, uncalled-for thoughts. That was the last place she ever intended
to be! She had learned her lesson and learned it well. "You didn't come
down to dine," she said softly.

"I ate on
deck." He didn't look at her as he spoke.

She decided to enjoy
the night, the stars, the wind, the sea and even his impersonal company. It
wasn't a bad life, she thought, sailing the world by day and night. "It's
so free," she whispered.

He didn't respond,
his arms now folded across his chest.

Suddenly she was
struck by a comprehension and she faced him. "Do you think to outsail your
childhood memories?" Was that what he was doing? Running away from his
past under the guise of being a naval captain in a time of war? "How
convenient," she gasped.

He seemed to choke.

"I mean, this is
a life without family, without responsibility. If you wanted, you could sail
the world forever."

Not looking at her,
he said to the first mate, "Red, I'll take the helm."

Red said, "Aye,
aye, Cap," and he stepped aside.

Virginia
watched Devlin's large hands
close on the helm, firm and assured, neither hard nor gentle, and she was
breathless. Blood pumped in places it should avoid. She looked away, taking a
huge breath, suddenly faint with the most urgent desire.
His hands had been
on her like that, almost exactly so.

"I think you
should go below," he said tersely, still refusing to look at her—and it
was as if he knew.

"Is that an
order?" she asked. But she knew her dazzling insight was right.

He finally turned his
head and their gazes locked. He seemed to hesitate. "No."

"No?"

His jaw was most
definitely flexing. "The nights are long."

She began to smile.
"You don't mind my company."

"As long as you
are quiet."

Her smile widened—how
quickly he could make her heart sing and dance! "You want my
company," she teased.

290                           

She thought she saw
him hold back a smile. "I hardly said that. But I do not mind it, if you
are
quiet."
He stressed the last word.

"I
promise." She grinned, and she leaned on the siding, gazing up at the
stars. Tendrils of stray hair whipped her face; she loosened her pelisse.
"If I were a boy, I could have been a sailor," she mused.

"No, you
couldn't."

She turned, leaning
her back on the ship, facing him. "You dispute me?" she bantered,
praying their conversation would remain light and thrilled with it this far.

"You love the
land." He added thoughtfully, "One might think you are like the sea,
a flighty mistress, ebbing one way, then another, forever free, but you are
really like the dark, deep earth, solid and immovable."

She stared. "How
wrong you are, Devlin. You are like the earth, not I."

He started.

"Did you always
want to be a sailor?" she asked, aware of the depth of the tension between
them. The light conversation, as brief as it was, had not done anything to
dispel it.

"No."

She tilted her head.
"No? Do you care to elaborate?"

He seemed to caress
the helm, steering the ship.

"Devlin? Has it
ever occurred to you that it is easier to converse than to be in a speechless
war?"

He sighed.
"Askeaton has been in my family for centuries. I thought to do what Sean
is doing."

She became still.
Suddenly she realized that she was touching his wrist. Desire crashed over her
but she ignored it. "And then your father died and it all changed."

"My brother has
a big mouth. What else did he say?"

"He said you
used the navy to become rich, so you could destroy your father's murderer—my
uncle."

He looked directly at
her. "And he is right."

She stared boldly
back. "If you expect me to swoon with hysteria and fear, then you do not
know me at all."

He seemed to smile in
the darkness. "I would never expect you to swoon,
Virginia
," he murmured.

She went still. She
had not misheard the sexually seductive tone of his voice, oh no. And she
trembled, reminding herself that she must never allow herself to wind up in bed
with him again. He truly thought to hand her off to his brother and a few
moments of pleasure would not change anything.

He cleared his
throat. "And what will you do after the ransom,
Virginia
?" he asked, surprising her with the
question.

But she knew what he
was doing—he was changing the subject to distract her from the attraction she
could not ignore. She met his careful regard, wetting her lips. "I will
go home, of course."

He turned and stared
at her. She stared back. It lay there unspoken between them—his desire to wed
her to Sean. She said, low and careful, "I will not return to Askeaton, no
matter how I have come to love it, and even view it as my home."

He looked ahead, into
the slightly frothing waves beyond the frigate's prow. "And if Sweet Briar
has been sold?" he asked after a long moment.

They were actually
having a serious and sincere conversation. She hesitated. "It can't be
sold. It simply can't, Devlin. It has been my entire life—it belonged to my
parents—it belongs to me. It is my birthright," she added firmly.

"You must face
the fact if it has been sold," he said, glancing at her. "I made
some inquiries in
London
. As of last month, it was still
available for purchase."

She smiled, thrilled.
"Thank God!"

"If you have no
home to return to, you may have to stay in
England
with your uncle."