Chapter 15

She tried each in turn, while he continued to stare, as only he could, turning a chunk of apple over and over on his tongue, as if he were going to spit it out.

Except he had never ever stared like that in bed. On deck maybe, when presented with some situation he didn't like. Or on the quay when he wrangled over some chiseling supplier who'd wanted more than Flint was ever prepared to pay. But he never stared like this when confronted with the possibility of boarding a woman, as if this was to much to bear. But perhaps he meant to rattle her? At all costs she needed to beat him down on that score. And she would.

"Do excuse me." She cleared her throat. "I'm just getting comfortable." Heavens, what next? Should she raise her skirts? Or should he?

"You sure about that?"

"Sure about what?" Taking a deep breath, she tried edging her gown up a notch. It wouldn't budge because she lay on top of it despite tugging valiantly at it.

Suddenly the mechanics of this, of keeping him at bay, didn't seem so clever. But if she reached out and touched him in some way, so he thought she desired him, that would be worse. No. She'd made these terms, even if he hadn't exactly kept a copy.

She closed her eyes. It was easier in the dark to wriggle the skirt a notch or two. At least as far as her knees. She wasn't going further than that. Surely it wasn't beyond him to do the rest.

She heard him take another bite out of the apple. He crunched so loud that she jerked her eyes open.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm just making myself ready at ease."

He furrowed his brow. "You mean "

"A deal is a deal. You, yourself, stood on that staircase and blackmailed me into it. So kindly stop chewing that apple and sounding as if you've no idea what you're here for. In case you need reminding, it's why I went behind the screen. I'm ready and waiting for you now."

After all, she meant to govern this situation. Govern him. Not allow the bastard to govern her.

"Isn't that a shame?"

"A shame? What do you mean?"

"What I said." He tossed the hair out his eyes. "You're wasting that cream. You know what I think of waste."

A faint smile edged his lips. Her heart almost stopped dead. All right, he wanted to touch her. Preferred to, rather than have her use the cream.

"Well, James, my way may not exactly be a raging success, but this is the way we're doing this."

"Is that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes."

He took another bite of the apple and then tossed it over his shoulder. She waited, her heart in her throat, for him to hitch her skirt. Any minute now. God, no wonder her eyes watered.

"Well, that's good to know. You do what you like. Right now, this nice bed you've got here, what I'd most like to do is sleep."

"Sleep?" She fought to stop her voice notching several octaves.

"I'm kind of tired. Been a long day. Surprising too."

"James." God Almighty, just listen to the harrying edge in her voice. When she wasn't desperate. Yet. And she wasn't going to be either. No matter what he did. No matter what he said.

"What?"

"I brought you here for a purpose. We agreed, after you offered, you would help me conceive the Beaumont heir."

"You agreed. There didn't seem much fun in it for me."

She resisted the urge to strike him. "So, what are you saying? That you've changed your mind? Because if you have, the door is "

"There's no need for you to go getting yourself fiked up."

"Me?"

"Stropping neither."

"I'm not fiked up. Stropping either."

"That's a change."

"If you're trying to make me lose my temper, you won't. But as you saw for yourself, Thomas is in the cellar--"

"He looks like he's staying in it too."

"I can't keep him there indefinitely. If this nonsense is because I was lax in choosing you "

"You think I couldn't bring you around eventually? I'm just not a performing seal. You let me get rested and I'll see what I can come up with." He sighed and settled himself down on the silk bedspread, his hands behind his head. "You can lie down beside me, if you want."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Maybe you'd rather sleep in one of the other rooms? Or the chair there?"

She wouldn't be sleeping. How could she? She should just have taken the heir when he'd offered. How humiliating was this? To be refused in her own bed? She was damned to this. To him. But if she didn't tether the fury flooding her veins, she'd be damned to far, far worse. She would. She'd have to.

Let him see she was in any way bothered? She'd sooner die.

"So James, can I take it that you're saying that in the morning ?"

He deigned to open his eyes. "Hmmm? The morning or whenever. Just let me get some rest in. You've no idea how tiring it is polishing shoe buckles."

She fought back fire. The tightrope she walked stood suspended across a gorge so perilous, she couldn't afford another slip. She didn't want him pleading some woman's excuse next. A headache. Or worse.

"Of course. I understand."

Did she hell.

He smothered a yawn. "That's certainly a change. You don't usually."

She bit her tongue. "And there is no problem. None at all. Just make yourself as comfortable as possible."

"Thank you."

"And we can talk in the morning."

"Suits me. Now, if you don't mind being quiet?"

Although she'd sooner swallow poison, she nodded.

What else could she do but lie down at the far side of the bed and do something she never did?

Pray.