Tempting Torment Read online

  "P-passion?"

  Noah nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as she stumbled over the word. Was she still so in love with her dead husband that she could not imagine feeling anything for another man? Or did she find him so repulsive that she could not imagine feeling anything for him in particular?

  "Do you mean for us to share a bed?"

  "At the very least I mean for us to do that. I don't expect you to sleep on the window seat again, Jessa. Ever. Neither do I expect you to spread your thighs for me at my whim."

  Jessa gasped at his crudity. "Don't speak—"

  "What I do expect," Noah continued, pushing his chair back and standing, "is that you will lower your guard enough so that we might come to know one another. I am not insensible to the fact that you have recently lost your husband. I can appreciate that you may feel you are betraying his memory. But I hope you are not insensible to the fact that you are, however briefly, married to a flesh and blood man. I have certain expectations regarding our arrangement. You would do well to honor them. To twist a trite phrase: you have made our bed and now we will lie in it—together."

  Jessa felt her disadvantage keenly. Noah was on his feet, towering over her, while she sat attached to her chair like a barnacle. She couldn't say where she found the courage, it was simply, suddenly, there. Pushing back her chair with a force that rippled the rug, Jessa stood. It was not enough. Even standing her body was shadowed by his. She stepped back, out of his shadow and glared at him. Her spine and shoulders were stiff. He was going to learn right now that she would not tolerate his tongue lashings. She had had enough of his arrogant assumptions.

  Noah didn't appear at all perturbed by the feral look in her eyes. He hadn't even noticed it His eyes had dropped to the twin peaks of Jessa's breasts. The thin cotton shift was less modest than Noah had earlier believed. He felt very, very lucky.

  "Would you please look at me?" Jessa asked indignantly.

  Noah's smile was wicked. "I believe I am."

  Agitated, she stamped her foot. Her breasts bobbed slightly beneath the shift. She saw his eyes widen and his wicked smile deepen. Jessa folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  Noah sighed. He lifted his eyes and tried to look grave. He was only partially successful. His smirk showed he was clearly unrepentant. "You have my full attention."

  It was the smirk that was her undoing. She was so angry that mere words could not express her thoughts. "Ooh!" She placed her hands squarely against his chest and shoved him backward. Before Noah recovered Jessa spun on her heel and stormed over to the window seat She wrapped herself in a blanket then turned her back on him. A tear pricked her closed eyelids. And another. Another. She furtively wiped them away. When Noah came up behind her and rested his hands on her arms with the lightest of touches, Jessa found she was simply too weary and heartsick to pull away.

  Sensing her small surrender, Noah's arms crossed in front of her and gently urged her off balance until her weight rested against him. His arms and thighs cradled her. His chin rested against the top of her head and he felt the silkiness of her pale, corn silk hair for the first time. "Do you know," he said, "I've always despised women who use force as a substitute for reason." He sensed, rather than saw, her watery smile. "You nearly knocked me off my feet back there."

  "You deserved it," she said dully.

  "Hmm. I rather think I did."

  "You were making light of me."

  "I'm afraid I was."

  "You want everything your own way."

  That was truer than Noah was prepared to admit. "What do you want Jessa?" he asked instead.

  "I want to sleep on the window seat."

  "No."

  "I want you to sleep on the window seat."

  "No."

  "Then I want you to promise not to touch me."

  "No."

  "You can't really want to share a bed with me," she said weakly. "You already know I'm a criminal and a liar. Those are hardly mere peccadillos."

  "Hardly," he said. He didn't require reminding.

  "I can't be a wife to you, Noah... I can't be intimate."

  Since she was already enfolded in his arms, since he was already coming to know the sweet curves of her body, her statement didn't carry much weight with Noah. He was willing to exercise caution and a little patience. "We'll see. It's only for the length of the voyage, remember," he said, making certain she understood the terms clearly. "If it—"

  "No." She pulled away and turned on him. "No, I mean it, Noah. I can't be what you want me to be. Not now. Not ever." Oh, God! What if he forced her? How was she going to explain having a son and being a virgin? Hysterical laughter nearly bubbled to her throat, and she covered her mouth with her hand. She felt as if she were going to be sick.

  "Jessa," he said calmly, watching her carefully. "You seem to have some peculiar ideas that you're in a position to dictate terms to me. Nothing could be further from the truth. I can be reasonable to a certain point. You would do well not to push me too hard or too long. I doubt you will enjoy the consequences. Am I understood?"

  Jessa's mouth gaped. She considered all the things she wanted to say and finally swallowed them all. In the end, she nodded slowly.

  Noah smiled briefly, satisfied. "Good. Now, why don't you dress and I'll bring Gideon back. Cam has probably had his fill of the imp by now." At the door he paused and delivered his parting shot, "And while I'm demonstrating that I can be reasonable and give you some time, I still intend that we should share a bed. The window seat is out of the question."

  Jessa glared at the closed door. "Coward!" she called heatedly. She glanced at the bed, color rising in her face. At least its dimensions were enormous. There was a gift in that. She probably wouldn't even notice that he was in there with her. "Liar," she whispered. "You would notice him if a half mile were stretched between you."

  The wardrobe was divided into two large sections. Jessa opened the left door and found Noah's clothes. She lightly passed her hand across the garments. There was no faulting his taste in clothes, she thought miserably. No wonder he had despised her bonnet. His jackets were satin and velvet, braided with gold or silver trim on the wide, turned back cuffs. There were matching vests, some brocaded, others stylish in their simplicity. His shirts were folded neatly on the bottom shelf. They were soft to the touch. Jessa shut the door quickly.

  The other side of the wardrobe held her gowns—and someone else's. Jessa's heart sank as she stared at the beautiful clothes. The colors caught her eye: hunter green, pale rose, violet, sky blue, ivory. The fabrics were linen, taffeta, velvet, satin, and silk. Soft cotton chemises with lace trim at the neck and sleeves hung from some hooks at the back of the cupboard. Ruffled pantalettes and stockings shared one shelf. Kid slippers, silk brocade shoes, and dainty black leather half boots filled the floor of the wardrobe.

  She found her own scuffed and well-worn shoes buried in the pile. Her stockings were easy to pick out because they bore signs of mending. The dove-gray dress seemed colorless next to the others. Jessa pulled it out.

  She had just managed to slip into her shoes when Noah returned with Gideon. Cam was behind them, carrying a tray with her breakfast on it.

  "You didn't bolt the door," Noah said in the way of a greeting.

  Jessa ignored him and held out her hands to Gideon. The little boy shook his head and continued to clutch Noah's shirt. Jessa felt as if she had been kicked in her midsection. She turned away quickly to hide her distress.

  Noah directed Cam to put down Jessa's food and take away what remained from his own morning meal with Gideon. When the boy was gone Noah spoke gently. "I'm merely a novelty, Jessa. He's just an infant. He didn't mean anything by it. Is this the first time he's ever refused to go to you?"

  Jessa nodded. She sat at the table and smoothed a linen napkin over her lap. Her smile was a trifle too bright to be sincere. "I suppose I should be grateful to be able to eat my meal in peace."

  Noah accepted her words at face
value, though he knew she was bitterly hurt. He felt an unwelcome tug of pity for her. What sort of life did she think she could make for herself and the child in the United States once the marriage was legally ended? Did she expect to go back to the highway to support herself and her son? Noah rolled his eyes at the thought. Heaven help us all if she does! He set Gideon on the rug, hunkered down, and rolled the cloth ball past the boy. Gideon watched it go past, then bounced backward on his bottom to get it. The sight of his chubby legs pushing against the rug for purchase made Noah laugh and brought a genuine smile to Jessa's lips.

  Noah reached in his vest pocket. "Cam whittled these for Gideon." He held up five wooden beads strung together on a thin strip of leather. "Can he have them?"

  "Is the string secure? Gideon would as soon eat those beads as play with them."

  Noah chuckled, testing the strength of the leather. "I've noticed just the opposite is true at mealtime." The rawhide held against his best efforts, but just to be certain he tied another knot. He glanced at Jessa, and when she nodded he dangled the beaded necklace in front of Gideon. The infant slapped at it and Noah pulled it back, teasing. The play continued and Gideon's cherub face turned red with frustration because he could never quite grasp the beads.

  "Damn! Damn! Damn!" he cried, kicking his heels and giving every appearance that he knew precisely what he was saying.

  Jessa was mortified.

  Noah was astonished and not a little upset. "I'll speak to Cam about his language in front of the babe," he said apologetically. "I never thought—"

  "Cam's not to blame," Jessa said hurriedly. She nudged her scrambled eggs with her fork, moving them around her plate. "I'm afraid he learned that from me."

  Eyebrows raised slightly, Noah regarded Jessa with new interest. "You actually cursed?" he said, pretending to be appalled.

  Jessa knew he was laughing at her. "Very well," she said lightly, "now you know yet another of my faults." Gideon was wailing soulfully for his toy.

  "I'll be certain to make a record of it," he said dryly, making her wonder if he were serious. "Here, Gideon. I'm giving you these beads because they were Cam's gift to you and not because you're pitching a fit." Noah dropped the beads, Gideon blabbered in delight and Jessa merely shook her head, amused by Noah's reasoning.

  "You don't think he understands that, do you?"

  Noah shrugged. "Not a word. Still, I was teasing him first. We'll sort it out later when he pitches his next fit." He stood, shaking out his legs, and took a seat at the table. "Is your breakfast satisfactory?"

  "Yes." She swallowed a mouthful of eggs. "I appreciate you caring for Gideon this morning. He can be quite a handful. I don't usually sleep so late. I hadn't realized I was so tired."

  "I doubt you slept very well. It couldn't have been comfortable on the seat," he said pointedly.

  Were they back to that again? Jessa buttered a muffin to occupy her attention then set it on her plate because she realized she wasn't hungry any longer.

  "You don't eat enough," he noted, eyeing the discarded muffin.

  "I manage."

  "Eat!"

  "Mr. McClellan! If that is the tone you adopted with Gideon I'm surprised he ate at all!"

  "If you call me Mr. McClellan again I'll adopt another tone entirely!"

  Behind them Gideon had stopped amusing himself, fascinated by the adult voices.

  They became aware of their interested audience simultaneously. Jessa's voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "You are insufferable! Your fiancée cannot have been thinking when she said yes! She should thank m—"

  Noah stood so abruptly that his chair tipped over. He ignored it as well as Gideon's consequential howling. "And your husband," he said, trying not to grit his teeth, "must have been thankful for the end when it came!" He stormed out of the cabin. "And lock the damn, damn, damn door!"

  Jessa sank back into her chair and tossed her napkin on the table. "Oh, Gideon, do be quiet!" she snapped. The infant was startled into silence and Jessa was instantly remorseful. She righted the chair then sat on the floor beside him. The string of beads found their way into her hands and she sifted them through her fingers like a rosary. "I don't know how we go on from here," she said softly. "I really don't."

  Noah stayed away from the cabin all day. Cam was in and out, bringing food, removing dishes, hauling water. Jessa enjoyed his company even though each visit was brief. She washed things for Gideon, read a little from a book that looked interesting and was not, and when she spied a hole in the elbow of Cam's blue and white striped shirt she held him still long enough to repair it. Mostly she was bored, and because she was bored, she worried.

  By the time Noah returned her nerves were as taut as the sails overhead. She didn't look up from her book as he entered and braced herself for some comment about the door not being locked again. When it didn't come she worried even more.

  "Gideon already in bed?" he asked. He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes.

  Just like that, she thought, astonished. Like they had never said horrible things to one another. She nodded in answer to his question.

  "Will he wake if I go see him?"

  "Probably not. I put him down a while ago."

  Noah padded softly to the baby's room and opened the door a crack. Gideon had pushed off his blanket and his nightshirt was bunched about his thickly padded bottom. Noah righted the shirt and blanket and touched the back of his finger to Gideon's downy cheek. He stayed that way, staring at the baby for a long time before he went to join Jessa.

  He sat down on the opposite lounging chair and stretched his legs, crossing them at the ankles. "Have you found something good to read?"

  Jessa shut the book and laid it on the lacquered table. "No, it's very dry."

  Noah picked up the book and read the embossed letters on the leather spine. "A Treatise on the Industry of Pilgrims to the New Worlde." He set the book aside. "It does sound rather dry," he said pleasantly.

  "Please, stop this," Jessa pleaded. "I shall go mad if you just go on and on as if everything were right between us!"

  Noah frowned a little, uncertain if he had heard correctly. "Pardon?"

  "Please, Mr. McClel—," she caught herself, "Noah, I mean. See, I will say it any way you please, from the top of the mainmast if you insist. Noah! More loudly if you wish it. NOAH!"

  "Jessa! What maggot have you got in your head now? "

  "Maggot?" she laughed shrilly. "A little Noah maggot. It has wormed its way inside my head so that I can call no thought my own! How dare you come in here and smile and be pleasant and act for all the world like—"

  Noah cut her off. "Are you taking me to task because I'm not arguing with you?" he asked incredulously.

  Well... since he put it that way. Jessa knew she was behaving like a recalcitrant child. Gideon had better manners and more sense than she. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "For everything. The things I said today... earlier... they were unforgiveable. You have been so kind to Gideon... so patient with him. I had no—"

  "But not to you," Noah said with a trace of self-loathing. "I haven't been kind or patient with you, have I? No, you don't need to answer. I know the truth well enough."

  "It doesn't matter about me," she said earnestly. "I tricked you, lied to you, you nearly died because of me. Your feelings are understandable."

  It occurred to him to tell her that she didn't know anything about his feelings. Instead he said, "If I were you, I would not look for opportunities to remind me of your perfidy."

  Jessa blinked, struck by his cool tones. "I shall endeavor not to be a constant thorn in your side," she said gravely.

  Noah wasn't certain he liked the sound of that. "The thorn," he said quietly and without a hint of his previous coolness, "is the price one pays for having captured the rose."

  Startled by his pretty words, Jessa stared at him. "A rose?" Was that squeak her voice? "Me?"

  "Mm-hmm. A delicate white rose." His eyes slid over her face a
nd the petal smooth skin of her cheeks became tinged with pink. "Now you've gone and confounded my description," he chuckled. He left his chair and sat on the rug at Jessa's feet. She was forced to move her legs to one side so he could lean against the seat of the chair. Noah waited to see if she would know what he wanted, waited to see if he had to direct her hands to his shoulders and neck. He didn't. There was only a moment's hesitation on Jessa's part, then he felt her fingers slide across the nape of his neck. He bent his head forward. "Why didn't you wear one of your other gowns today?"

  "I have but three gowns," she said. "I did warn you that my wardrobe was sadly limited." When she fled the Penberthys, she had only taken her most serviceable dresses, all of which were from the period she had spent in mourning for her parents. They were terribly somber when compared to the others in the wardrobe, but they had suited the anonymity she sought at Mary's cottage.

  "But what of the others? Weren't they to your liking?"

  Jessa's hands fell still briefly. "The others? But... but I thought they were a gift for your..."

  "For Hilary? You can say her name, Jessa. We can't tiptoe around one another for the next six weeks. No, the gowns aren't for Hilary. For one thing, Hilary is four inches or more taller than you and rather..." He trailed off, searching for the right word.

  "Statuesque?" Jessa supplied. Unconsciously her fingers tightened on Noah's shoulders.

  "Mm-hmm." It was true, Noah thought, that Hilary was more, well, more filled out than Jessa, but he had not forgotten how Jessa had felt against him this morning or how her thin cotton shift had laid against her breasts. That vision caused Noah a bit of discomfort and he changed his position slightly.

  "And the second thing?"

  "What?"

  "You said there was a first thing," she reminded him practically. "Usually that is followed by a second thing."

  "Oh. And the second thing is that I am not in the habit of buying clothing for my fiancée. It's not the done thing." Even to his own ears he sounded self-righteous and priggish.

  "Then why—"

  "Even on this ship there are appearances to maintain. I find it odd to remind you you're my wife when it was clearly you who initiated the event."