Captain Jack's Woman (Bastion Club 0.50)

Jack didn’t answer. Her presence in his room at this particular moment had not been part of his plan. Just as it formed no part of his plan to satisfy her curiosity about Captain Jack’s nocturnal adventures. From Spencer, he had learned about her cousin Julian; he now understood her interest in stopping the spies. A praiseworthy ideal for the High Commissioner’s lady. But telling her anything at all was out of the question.

This was the woman who’d blithely accepted a position as leader of a smuggling gang, the same woman who on more than one occasion had disobeyed his explicit orders. Even hinting at the truth was too dangerous.

Intent on getting warm as quickly as possible, Jack peeled off his sodden breeches, leaving them in a heap on the floor. He toweled his legs and cast a considering glance at the bed. Now she was here…

Kit tried to ignore the tingle of anticipation that flickered along her nerves. “Jack, what’s—Oh!”

She bit back a squeal as Jack landed on the bed beside her. He wrestled the covers away from her. The thin film of her negligee was summarily dispensed with before he rolled her beneath him. His lips found hers as her hands, and the rest of her, made contact with his naked body. After a blood-stirring duel of tongues, Kit drew back to gasp: “You dolt! You’re freezing! You’ll catch your death of cold.” His skin was iced, all except one part of him, which was already basking in the heat at the juncture of her thighs.

“Not if you warm me up.”

Kit gasped as she felt one large hand slip beneath her bottom, tilting her hips, opening her to his invasion. She felt his spine slowly flex. Hard as steel, smooth as silk, he entered her. Kit gasped again, her body arching in instinctive welcome.

His lips sought hers. They moved together, Kit following his lead, rising to his thrusts, stoking the flames higher until they broke in a molten wave, sending heated pleasure coursing through them.

Later, he moved off her, drawing her about so she lay curled with her back to him. He settled his larger body around hers and immediately fell deeply asleep.

Snuggled beneath a heavy arm and halfway to sleep herself, Kit grimaced. Marriage to Lord Hendon had changed nothing. When it came to smuggling, he was Captain Jack. And Captain Jack kept his own counsel.

Chapter 26

Why wouldn’t he tell her? Kit cantered up the Gresham’s drive with that refrain ringing in her ears. She’d not seen her aggravating husband since dawn, when, after exhausting her thoroughly, he’d carried her back to her bed. She vaguely recalled him saying something about inspecting his coverts. She wasn’t deceived. He’d purposely found some activity to keep him out all day so she couldn’t pursue her questions. Doubtless, he thought time would blunt her curiosity.

With a snort, Kit slid from the saddle without waiting for the assistance of her groom. “Is the family in, Jeffries?”

“Lord Gresham’s off to Lynn, miss—I mean, your ladyship.” Jeffries smiled as he took her bridle. “Lady Gresham took the carriage out an hour ago. But Miss Amy’s inside.”

“Good!” Kit stalked to the house and entered by the morning room windows.

Amy was there, idly plying her needle. She jumped up as soon as she saw Kit. “Oh, good. Mama’s gone to Lady Dersingham’s. Now we can talk.” Then Amy noticed Kit’s high color and the brisk way she stripped off her gloves. Her eyes widened. “What’s the matter?”

“That damned husband of mine’s as close as an oyster!” Kit flung her gloves onto a table and fell to pacing the room, her long swinging strides more suited to Young Kit than Lady Hendon.

“What do you mean?” Frowning, Amy sank back onto the chaise.

Kit glanced her way. Amy knew nothing of her husband’s alias but the need to unburden herself was strong. “What do you think of a gentleman who refuses to tell his wife,” Kit paused, searching for words, “the details of a transaction he’s involved in, when he knows she’s interested and it would not be a…a breach of confidence or any such thing?”

Amy blinked. “Why do you want to know about Jonathon’s business?”

The simple question sent Kit’s temper into orbit. With a frustrated growl, she went about the room again, struggling for calm. Why did she want to know what Jack was up to? Because she did. While she’d been Young Kit and he Captain Jack, she’d felt a part of his adventures. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept that being his wife meant she had to remain distanced from what affected him most nearly. Besides which, if she knew what he was up to, she was sure she could help.

She stopped in front of Amy. “Let’s just say that not knowing is driving me crazy. Besides which,” she added, kicking her skirts out of the way to pace again, “there are reasons of…of honor which say he should tell me. If he had any gentlemanly instincts, he would.”

Amy looked stunned—and thoroughly confused. “Do you mean that Jonathon’s not truly the gentleman?”

It was Kit’s turn to blink. “Of course not!” She frowned at Amy. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Amy eyed Kit with affectionate understanding and patted the chaise. “Do sit down, Kit—you’re making me dizzy. Now tell me—is it really as exciting as they say?”

The point of the question missed Kit entirely. She dropped into a chair opposite Amy and frowned. “Is what so exciting?”

“You know.” Amy’s slight blush jolted Kit’s mind into the right rut.

“Oh, that.” Kit waved dismissively, then abruptly changed her mind. She wagged a knowledgeable finger at Amy. “You know, you didn’t have the half of it when you told me all that stuff about getting hot and wet.”

“Oh?” Amy sat straighter.

“No,” Kit affirmed. “It’s much worse than that.”