Page 105 of The Pirate and the Pagan
When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she was horrified that Ruark had seen her looking her very worst. A rush of love and gratitude swept over her. Whatever would she have done if Ru hadn’t found her? She knew she didn’t want her marriage to him annulled. She wanted to be his very precious love, exactly as she had been until they came back from their honeymoon at Stowe and she’d ruined her whole life by confessing the truth to him. She leaned her head against the doorjamb. Perhaps she could persuade him to stay with her again tonight. If she bathed and changed into an alluring gown and acted sweet and feminine, perhaps she could dissuade him from going through with the annulment. She had seduced him into marriage once, why not again? The trick was to make him think she wanted the annulment desperately.
By the time Lord Helford returned with Mrs. Bishop it was three o’clock in the afternoon. Summer liked her immediately. She had a comfortable figure with a large expanse of bosom and seemed to take charge immediately. Summer could see she was kind and generous but not above using bullying tactics if that’s what it took to make people obey her. In a glance Mrs. Bishop took in Summer’s expanded waistline and said firmly, “No more climbing stairs for you, young lady.”
Ruark laughed. “Bish will get obedience from you, even if I can’t.”
“But I must show you to your bedchamber, Mrs. Bishop.”
Bish pointed to her trunk and gave Ruark a speaking glance. “He’s got two strong legs, he can show me my room and the patient. Then I’ll be in the kitchen getting us all some supper.”
Summer hid a smile. “Lord Helford will help you, he’s very good at hauling wood for the fires.”
“I can haul my own wood. Lord Helford can look after his wife. A woman needs pampering when she’s carrying her first child.”
Ruark carried up Mrs. Bishop’s trunk and returned immediately. Summer felt so shy with him that she actually blushed. He had obviously stopped somewhere to shave and change his clothes, and as always he was immaculate. She had set up a chessboard in front of the fire and the elegantly appointed room was intimately inviting. She had brushed her hair until its silken black mass cloaked her shoulders and she had chosen a silk gown the color of crushed raspberries, which outlined her breasts and fell in soft folds to her feet.
Ruark’s eyes smoldered as they lingered on her luscious breasts. He glanced at the chessboard and she said breathlessly, “We didn’t finish our play.” She saw him harden at her words and averted her eyes as if she were still a maiden. Summer sat down on the love seat before the fire, and reaching behind a cushion, pulled out the leather-bound volume her father had given to her. “Ruark, you know I want this annulment every bit as much as you do, but I see no reason why we can’t remain friends.” Her voice had a whispery, seductive quality which sent shivers up Ruark’s back. “As a parting gift … as a token between friends … I want you to have this journal. It will probably make your job in Cornwall much easier and perhaps less dangerous.”
He sat down beside her and opened the book curiously. “What is it?” he asked as he saw the dates and places and names.
“It’s a record of wrongdoing … of smuggling … of wrecking … of selling information to the highest bidder. There’s everything in there from murder to treason and I’m ashamed to say that nearly every prominent family in Cornwall had one or more members involved. When my father died, he gave it to me so I could blackmail these rich families for money.”
“Summer, didn’t you trust me enough when we married to give it to me?” he asked.
“Ruark, when you married me, I fancied myself so much in love, I would have trusted you to the ends of the earth. I always meant you to have it, only I was so ashamed that my father was involved in such vile things.”
He put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so that he looked deeply into her eyes. “I know you well enough to know you have the guts to blackmail someone.”
“Damn you, blackmail isn’t my style!” she cried, forgetting her resolve not to swear in front of him. “Don’t you think it would have been easier for me to get money from the journal than dressing up as a highwayman and robbing coaches?” she demanded. “All because you left me penniless,” she added, outraged.
“Have you any idea how magnificently beautiful you are when you lose your temper? I get you angry on purpose sometimes just to watch you.” He took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, lingering over each fingertip, each perfect nail oval. “Thank you for trusting me with the journal. I have discovered some of the treachery, of course, but it might have taken me years to ferret out all the bastards.”
His arm slid along the back of the love seat and his fingers began to play with her hair. “Ruark, I think Richard Grenvile is dead. I told you I saw him at Stowe when we were on our honeymoon. Do you remember?”
His arm came around her and he drew her to him. “Do I remember our honeymoon?” he asked huskily, a thousand erotic images stealing into his mind.
“I believe now that Grenvile was involved in treachery against the King. I think Rory killed him. I think you should be extremely careful around Rory.”
“Darling, I don’t intend to waste our lovely evening talking about that young devil, but I’ll put your mind at ease by telling you that Charles and I trust him completely. Don’t go sticking your pretty little nose in and messing things up,” he warned.
She brought her hands up against his chest; she could feel the crisp hairs beneath the snowy linen. She had warned him and it would be up to him to guard himself. She had no fear for him, for in a fight with any man, king or brother, he would emerge the victor. His closeness was having an unbelievable effect on her. Her senses were dizzy with the feel of him, the scent of him. “Now that the danger to Spencer is past, I suppose you’ll have to leave. …” she said wistfully.
“I’m staying,” he asserted.
“Staying to eat?” she asked innocently.
“Longer,” he said firmly.
Summer didn’t allow her expression to change but she was willing to bet he was “longer,” and if she teased him just a little more, she would feel his full length. “Oh, of course, I forgot our game,” she said, removing herself from the love seat.
He, too, stood up to remove his coat and pour them a little Chablis. “Winner’s choice,” he reminded her.
She took the proffered glass, accidentally brushing his hand with her fingertips, and said, “Let’s see, what do I want if I win?”
The tip of her tongue played about the edge of the glass and he said in a low, intense voice. “You know what I want.”
She teased him by giving him a hot, slanting glance and saying breathlessly, “I think you know what I want, Ru!”
He drained his glass and, slipping his hands around her back, pressed her buttocks forward so that her sensitive mons rubbed against his swollen sex. “What do you want, darling, tell me.”
