Undone (24 page)

“Mademoiselle?”

Angelica tore her gaze from Simon and noticed a tall young man standing before her. A grin slowly spread wide across his face. His gaze swept over her in an open perusal that shocked her.

“My name is Anton, mademoiselle. I’m the man who’ll win this contest. And your kiss. I look forward to seeing if there is a difference between the lips of a highborn lady and a common wench. Either way”—his gaze dropped to her breasts, then slowly moved back to her eyes—“I’ll have you wanting more.” He chuckled and swaggered away.

Oh, perfect. Were matters not bad enough?

When Anton walked by Simon, he said, “Good luck, Captain,” with the same arrogant smile and continued on his way.

Simon had heard every word Anton said to her, she was sure of it. He gave her one last look before he turned to join the others for the contest.

Each man was given three knives to toss on each of their three turns at the targets. Each attempt earned points.

With her heart in her throat, she watched the competition. Those with the greatest skill were Simon’s crewmen. Seasoned sea-warriors trained to wield weapons with deadly accuracy were easily distinguishable from the rest.

She was going to have to kiss one of them. She wanted to kiss only one specific man among them. The one man in the competition who didn’t wish to kiss her.

“Simon has stiff competition,” Jules said as he and Sabine stepped up onto the stage. “Anton never loses in knives.” Angelica felt ill.

Sabine patted Angelica’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Whatever happens, it’s only a kiss. Over quickly.”

None of this was helping to relax the knots in her stomach.

Simon didn’t smile or blow her a kiss as some of the others did. He stared straight ahead, his tall, muscled form turned away from her, never glancing her way, concentrating on the targets. She watched as he hit the center target on his first two turns. A perfect score. He hadn’t missed once in all six knives. Did he
want
to win?
Of course he does, you fool.
He didn’t want to lose face before his men. His desire to win was strictly motivated by male pride.

A loud “
ahhhhh
” jolted her from her musings. Anton was on his final turn and had, for the first time, missed the center circle. He picked up his final knife. Undaunted, he smiled at her and kissed the blade. Turning, he tossed it and sank it directly into the center of the target. The people cheered.

“Well done, Anton!” Benjamin applauded. “Captain, you are the last competitor, and your final turn is at hand. Anton has the highest number of points. You’ll need no less than a perfect score to beat his outstanding performance.”

Perched on the edge of her chair, she couldn’t take much more of this, not wanting either to win—for very different reasons. Her heart pounded so hard it resonated inside her ears.

Confidently, Anton looked on.

She squeezed the arms of the chair as Simon tossed the first knife. A perfect hit. The crowd cheered. She breathed again, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.

Simon picked up the second knife and paused, weighing it in his hand for a moment. She bit her lip. With a quick movement of his sculpted arm, the knife sliced through the air and hit the target dead center.

She sighed as the spectators shouted boisterously.
One more.

Simon picked up the final knife.

Old Benjamin spoke up, loudly proclaiming, “Captain, sink this knife into its mark; then you can focus on a different target. One with ruby lips.” Laughter ensued. She glared up at Benjamin. She didn’t need his fool-headed comments to grate on her frayed nerves.

Simon gave Benjamin a nod, but his face remained impassive. He turned and positioned his arm. A silence fell upon the square. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back.

She couldn’t look, yet she was too afraid to turn away. He tossed the knife. She closed her eyes.

Applause and cheers erupted. She snapped her eyes open. There, piercing the center circle was Simon’s knife. She was so relieved she felt weak. But her relief was short-lived. She wouldn’t have to kiss Anton, but now she would have to face Simon.

The men approached him, including Anton, to offer their congratulations.

“Captain!” Old Benjamin bellowed beside her. “Please, step forward and claim your prize!”

Her heart leaped to her throat. The crowd parted. Jules and Sabine cleared the stage as Simon stepped up onto it. Still seated, she looked up at him.

He extended a hand to her, a slight smile tilting his sensuous mouth. The mass erupted anew. She placed her hand in his and forced her legs to stand.

Looking into the depths of his eyes, she was unsure what to do. If kissing her was something he was forcing himself to do, then she didn’t wish the touch of his lips either.
Liar!
cried the foolish voice inside her. The same one that had convinced her to reread the book of love sonnets more times than she should have.

“You do not have to do this,” she whispered.

Somehow, he heard her over the loud spectators. His dark brows drew together. “I’ve just won a contest, and your kiss,
chère
, is my prize. Why would I not claim it?”

“Because we both know how you feel about me.”

“Make her swoon,
Captain
!” Shouts from the rambunctious crowd pierced their conversation. She turned to the large group, but Simon slipped his fingers under her chin and turned her face to his.

“How do I feel about you?”

“You are…
repulsed
.” There, she’d said it. And while she looked him directly in the eye.

He looked stunned for a moment before anger flared in the depths of his eyes. “How can you think—”

“A kiss! A kiss!” they chanted, drowning him out. Anxiously, she looked out at the sea of shouting faces.

Once more, he turned her face to his, this time capturing it between his strong hands. “Don’t look at them.”

“Show her a commoner can kiss as good as any Aristo, Captain!” There was laughter again. She stiffened.

“Ignore them,” he said. “Let them fade from your mind. It’s just you and me here. No one else. I’m going to kiss you. Show you exactly how I feel about you.” He caressed his thumb across her cheek, sending tiny tingles racing down her spine. She watched him lower his mouth, then let her eyes flutter shut.

At the first touch of his lips, exhilaration shot through her system. She braced her hands against his solid chest. His taste, his scent, were a seductive combination. The last vague sounds from the jovial mass of whistles and applause faded into the distance.

She returned his kiss with zeal. Starved for more. Battling with the overwhelming urge to pull his shirt free, slip her hands beneath, and stroke his warm skin.

And those gorgeous ripples on his sculpted abdomen.

He thrust his tongue past her parted lips. Her sex clenched. Her nipples pressed hard against her chemise, just as tantalized and tormented by this heat he alone inspired. There was so much of this magic he created she had still to know…

He broke the kiss abruptly. “
Dieu
. We must stop…” At the loss of his mouth, she snapped her eyes open. Gazing up at him, she fought to catch her breath. The look in his eyes and his accelerated breathing were telling. He was just as affected.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning to face the exuberant group. They cheered louder. Forming a smile, he took her hand, bowed low over it, and kissed it. “Thank you, mademoiselle,” he exclaimed for all to hear. “Benjamin!”

“Yes, Captain.” The old fool still grinned.

“Does this celebration have any music?”

“Of course!” Benjamin motioned to the fiddlers.

The instant the music started, the crowd began to disperse toward the lively melody.

Simon helped her down from the stage, then stalked away in the opposite direction, pulling her along with him.

“Simon, what are you doing? Where are we going?”

Without breaking his stride, he said, “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. She almost collided into him.

“
About what?
” he repeated. “About how hard you make me with just one kiss. Hell, just seeing you standing there breathing drives me wild. About how I fight to keep myself from you, all the while wanting you day and night. And about the bloody ridiculous notion you have in your head that I could
ever
be repulsed by you.” He resumed his brisk pace.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

Chapter Seventeen

Angelica watched Simon close the schoolhouse door, muffling the merry sounds from the festival outside. His large masculine form made the one-room school feel smaller. And deliciously warmer than usual.

He stalked over to her desk, raking his hand through his hair. “Angelica, I may have been staying away from you, avoiding you, but only because I am trying to do what is right, and that is to keep my desire for you in check.
Jésus-Christ
, when I look at you, the last thing I could ever feel is repulsion.” His eyes still reflected the heated effects of their kiss. A warm current rushed through her heart.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “My actions have given you the wrong impression. Forgive me, for I do not know how to be near you and not touch you,” he said softly. “You are difficult to resist for any man… For me.”

A lump formed in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes.

“The knowledge of your past, I assure you, makes no difference to me. It isn’t who you are. It is something that happened to you.”

She averted her gaze and quickly swiped away an errant tear. Acceptance. Understanding. Compassion. He was giving her all three, just as she had believed he would. She wanted to throw her arms around him and declare her love for him right there and then. He knew everything, and yet he still saw her as a woman, complete and whole. He hadn’t felt disgust. He still desired her. Like a balm, his words soothed the gaping wound she’d had deep in her soul.

“I knew the men would select you…and though I’ve been trying to restrain my desire for you, I’ll be damned if I was going to sit back and allow Anton or any of them to kiss you.”

Restrain his desire? That was the last thing she wanted. In fact, she wanted him to give of himself freely. Heart and body.

She clasped her hands before her to keep from reaching out and touching him. He was devastating and distracting, and she needed to think. To decide what exactly to do with this revelation. And the heavenly opportunity it offered.

He fixed her with his regard, his look sincere. “I wish to be clear, so there is no misunderstanding between us. What you told me that night engaged my wrath, but not at you. It was directed at your stepfather, and at myself for my behavior toward you—”

“Stop!” She marched up to him, pointed at her chair, and in her strictest teacher’s voice said, “Sit down, Simon.”

His brows shot up at her command.

For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to comply, but then, much to her relief, he lowered his strong body onto the chair. There was a touch of amusement in his eyes. Clearly, no one had ever commanded this dominant male before.

“Good. Now you shall listen to me, for there are a few things I wish to tell you. Firstly, you will
never
mention my stepfather again. He’ll not be discussed or given any more importance.” She tried not to shudder at the mention of the loathsome creature.

Simon looked as though he wanted to debate the matter. But then he ceded with a slight nod of his head.

She pressed on. “Secondly, you were the one who took me from a way of life in which I was barely alive and forced me to acknowledge my past. And I am grateful. I am glad to be unburdened of a secret I carried for far too long. As far as your ‘
behavior toward me
’ is concerned, the physical intimacies we’ve shared have been more heaven than I expected to know on this side of the stars. You showed me how incredible it can be between a man and a woman.”

Between us.

She turned and stepped away. There were more words she wanted to say, some involving soft sentiments he wasn’t ready to hear, some involving physical yearnings, words her old self would have shied away from, unable to grasp for such bliss.

But she was different now.

She faced him again. “I have a proposal for you.”

He cocked a brow. “A proposal?”

Say it. Just utter the words.
She knew exactly what she wanted to say. She would make him a sumptuous offer.

“Yes… If you wish to blame yourself unnecessarily, then I have a way in which you can redeem yourself.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, his curiosity clearly piqued. “Oh? And in what way might I redeem myself?”

She gazed at his handsome face, trying not to be distracted by his sensual, most kissable mouth. If she said it all at once, it would be easiest. It wasn’t the sort of thing she voiced every day. “You could…provide more of the kind of carnal pleasures you’ve already shown me.”

He froze. Obviously astounded.

Then shot to his feet. “
Merde!
”

He stalked around the chair, putting it between them. “I’ve been fighting back my desire for you, and you propose I redeem myself by
becoming your lover
?”

She gave a nod. “On a frequent basis,” she added, in case the point was lost on him.

His mouth fell agape before he clamped it shut and began to pace. “Do not do this. Don’t expect that I can be the strong one for both of us on
this
…”

She tried not to smile, despite herself. He looked incredibly adorable in his flustered state. She was willing to wager that few people had ever managed to rattle him so.

“I’m a grown woman. I am quite capable of making my own decisions. I don’t need you to be a self-appointed protector of my virtue.”

He arrested his steps. Jabbing his index finger into his chest, he said, “I have been trying not to complicate your life.”