Читать книгу Mishap Marriage - Хелен Диксон, Хелен Диксон, Helen Dickson - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Most wary of the extra guest, Shona made her way down the wide curved staircase with as much stealth as she could manage. At the entrance to the great hall, she halted, suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart. When her eyes focused on Captain Fitzgerald standing near the door, staring out on to the veranda, everyone else faded into the background. An odd, melting sensation came over her, a sensation that somehow made breathing difficult and made her heart race as if she had been running.

Attired in elegant evening dress and buckled shoes, with his height and sun-bronzed complexion, Captain Fitzgerald appeared highly conspicuous, standing there breathing vigour and vitality. He affected the company like a fresh wind. His curling hair, drawn back and held at his nape by a thin black ribbon, gleamed a deep burnished brown above a pristine white neckcloth and ivory brocade waistcoat, while his powerful shoulders filled his olive-green coat to perfection.

A rugged pirate in gentleman’s garb, Shona reflected.

His chiselled profile was touched by the warm light of the candles and the growing ache in her breast attested to the degree of his handsomeness. She observed him reach up to tug at his neckcloth as if it might be too confining and wondered if he might feel ill at ease in his formal attire. But he must have known how to conduct himself at social functions—or at least how to charm the female sex. As soon as they began to gather, he was surrounded by half a dozen ladies who were eager to make his acquaintance. Captain Fitzgerald greeted them all with an ease that could not fail to set their feminine hearts aflutter.

In an attempt to regain her serenity, Shona let out a slow steadying breath and entered the hall, bringing him about to face her as the heels of her blue slippers tapped against the oak floor. He wore an expression of utter boredom on his face, an expression that altered dramatically when his eyes met hers.

Excusing himself, a smile tugging at his lips, he moved across the hall with the grace and speed of a jungle cat. She could not take her eyes off the way he moved—his easy grace, the suppleness of his limbs and the oiled machinery of his body.

The way he carried himself made it easy to believe that all that was said about him was true. Power, danger and bold vitality emanated from every line of his towering physique. When he halted before her he bowed with a grand sweeping gesture. Then Shona met his eyes. At that precise moment she became convinced that there were no eyes in all the world that shone brighter than those which now smiled at her. As she stared into those translucent depths, it was easy for her to imagine a woman being swept away by admiration for him without a single word being uttered.

What the devil was the matter with her? What was it about this man that he should have this effect on her, she who had held in scorn all the gentlemen who had done their best to ingratiate themselves into her good graces?

Mentally casting off the spell he unwittingly cast, she scolded herself for acting as addled as a dazzled schoolgirl.

Smiling, he looked down at her while his eyes plumbed the depths of her beauty.

‘Welcome to Melrose Hill, Captain Fitzgerald. I hope you enjoy your evening.’

‘I am enjoying it already,’ he murmured for her ears alone.

Shona was used to the admiration of young men and though she liked it well enough—what girl wouldn’t?—Captain Fitzgerald was the first to stir her senses and capture her imagination. ‘What is your opinion of Santamaria? Is it to your liking?’

‘Very much so—from what I’ve seen of it.’

‘And how does it compare with Virginia?’

‘Very well. I do have some basic common knowledge of the colonies, but I’m from England, not Virginia, as you seem to have surmised.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know, but you do have connections there.’

Zack folded his hands behind his back and appeared to look thoughtful. ‘I do have a shipyard and warehouses in Virginia—indeed, it would be difficult for me to conduct my business without them, but my home is in London.’

‘And after Martinique, London is your next port of call?’

He nodded, having suddenly become fascinated with the advantage his height gave him. Standing a full head above Miss McKenzie, he had a very pleasurable view of what lay beneath her demure bodice whenever he chanced to look that way, which was rather often. The high swell of her creamy breasts was a tantalising sight for any man and Zack most certainly enjoyed this treat.

While he was speaking, other guests began to arrive—thirty all told, some officers of the vessels in the harbour and merchants who had made their home on Santamaria. One of the footmen announced dinner.

Carmelita turned to her husband. ‘We’d better go in. Captain Fitzgerald, will you bring my sister-in-law along?’ she urged as she took her husband’s arm and moved towards the dining room.

‘It will be my pleasure.’ Zack gallantly presented his arm to the golden-haired beauty, at the same time catching her hand and pulling it through the crook of his elbow, not giving her a chance to deny him.

Shona yielded rather than make a scene, but behind Carmelita’s back she glared up at him and hissed, ‘You are quite outrageous, Captain.’

‘Has anyone told you,’ he breathed, blithely ignoring her irritation as he bent his head near hers, ‘how beautiful you are?’

She lifted her slim nose to a higher elevation, avoiding any reply. Still, she could not quell the stirring of pleasure his words aroused. At the table, he held her chair as she slipped into it. Thoughtfully she watched him walk around the table to take a place opposite her. That was the moment she realised a solution to her future course of action might be staring her in the face, a solution that would enable her to cast off the shackles her brother had placed on her that bound her to the island. But could she bolster the courage to carry out the wild plan she had suddenly conceived?

* * *

With eyes cold and unrevealing, Carmelita observed the pair and the looks that passed between them. She was suddenly inspired. Of course, Captain Fitzgerald was the critical factor. If the two of them should form an attachment, the combination could be explosive. Her mind was racing. An expression of calculating scheming was pasted on her face and she was feeling a little breathless with excitement.

* * *

The dinner was a relaxed affair and extremely civilised, and at times seemed quite unreal. On the one hand the table appointments were elegant, the English fare Zack favoured excellent, the service of the footmen everything that could be desired—and the delectable Miss Shona McKenzie in his line of vision at all times.

Reflecting on her proposal that she intended to put to Captain Fitzgerald, Shona glanced at him. The decision made, her resolution seemed a fantasy, dreamed up by someone other than herself. But he was magnificent, exuding the kind of strength and masculinity that women found extremely appealing. He didn’t appear to be entirely at ease with Antony. His manner towards him was civil, but stiff, wary. However, he looked as if he had perfected the knack of making a woman feel special—he was bending close to Mrs Frobisher seated next to him, listening attentively and watching the elderly lady with those silver-grey eyes. The same eyes that had looked her over appreciatively earlier.

The conversation was about what was happening in Europe and America, combined with the usual supper-party trivia, leisurely and varied and well marked with ship owners’ diverse opinions on the interests of their profession, while the ladies discussed the various society magazines and fripperies that had been brought on one of the vessels. Shona was in animated conversation with the foppish John Filligrew, a boyishly handsome youth of twenty-one with high colour in his smooth cheeks and a tangle of coppery curls. But every now and then she could feel a pair of silver-grey eyes watching her with a predatory stare and her head would turn and her eyes would meet those of Captain Fitzgerald.

‘In a domain such as this,’ Antony said in answer to a question Captain Fitzgerald had just posed about the early days of the island, ‘my father established a great many duties. Bringing slaves and bondsmen to the island, he supervised the clearing of the forests, sold the timber and prepared the fields for cultivation. We now have cane fields and our own vessels to transport the commodities. There is also the rearing and tending of our livestock. In fact, we grow and rear everything we require.’

‘I understand you have land and properties in Virginia. With all there is to do on the island, do you find the time to go there?’ Zack enquired, his long fingers toying with the stem of his wine glass.

‘I go whenever I am able, but on the whole, like my father before me, I employ reliable people to oversee and run things for me.’

‘Antony,’ Carmelita said from the opposite end of the table to her husband. ‘I’m sure Captain Fitzgerald doesn’t want to hear all this.’ She smiled at Zack. ‘I’m sorry, Captain Fitzgerald. My husband does tend to talk business all the time.’

‘Please don’t apologise. I’m overwhelmed by the abundance on such a small island.’ His eyes flicked to Shona and a slight smile curved his lips. ‘In fact, I find it so appealing that I am tempted to reside here myself.’

‘And you would be welcome to do so, Captain,’ Antony said. ‘If you can find the time before you leave, I would enjoy showing you the island.’

‘Thank you. I would like to take you up on that. Are you not troubled by buccaneers, Mr McKenzie? The number of outlaws and castaways infesting the Caribbean has increased considerably of late. I marvel that you have not been driven out.’

‘We should have been on several occasions had we not taken precautions against being caught off our guard.’

‘Such as?’

‘In several places along the shore, I have men living who would give me warning of the approach of any hostile body.’

‘And you can count on their loyalty?’

‘It is not a case of counting on their loyalty, but their greed. I pay each of them a wage for doing nothing, which of course would cease if I were driven out, and any of them who brings me a timely warning knows that he will receive enough money to keep him in idleness for years. Santamaria also has its own defence. As you will have seen for yourself, the leeward side of the island is sheltered from the full force of the trade winds, so that the waves of the Caribbean lap easily on the shore—unlike the rest of the island and the high cliffs, which have no defence against the wind-driven rollers of the Atlantic. I have men stationed to defend the island at all times. It’s a brave pirate who will attempt to sail his ship into the cove.’

The conversation was interrupted when a footman poured more wine. Zack looked across at the delectable Miss McKenzie still in conversation with John Filligrew, his head bent close to hers as he whispered some confidence in her ear. Zack experienced a flash of completely unfounded and unexpected emotion, a white-hot surge of jealousy unlike anything he’d ever felt for any lover he’d ever had. He wanted to rush over and pull the man away, to tell him he had no business leaning in so close, no right to get so near to her—this woman he had never met before today.

She was talkative and vivacious, with a lilting voice that was like music to his ears after six weeks at sea without female companionship. Her expression was endlessly fascinating as she smiled, frowned and wrinkled her slightly freckled nose and rolled her eyes. Looking up, she caught his eye and he had the odd feeling that she knew what he was thinking.

‘Have you always lived on the island, Miss McKenzie?’ he asked.

‘Yes, except for the time my father sent me to England to be educated.’

Zack looked at her, musing as he stared. He was wrong in his initial assumption. Despite being raised in this place, so far from the corrupting influences of civilisation, she had been exposed to them after all.

Shona noticed how incredibly light his eyes were in the flare of the candles. It was impossible not to respond to this man as his masculine magnetism dominated the scene. A curious sharp thrill ran through her as the force between them seemed to explode wordlessly. He watched her, his eyes alert above the faintly smiling mouth, and she promptly forgot John Filligrew.

Faceless numbers of suitors whom Shona had cast away loomed upwards before her consideration. Not one of them had stirred a spark in her blood, yet Captain Fitzgerald was able to make her heart beat with a sweet wildness that stirred her very soul. All the while his gaze was upon her she grew flustered and cast about her as she swallowed a glass of wine and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Captain Fitzgerald’s incendiary eyes scorched her over the flower arrangement.

Finally Antony slid his chair back. ‘I shall look forward to hearing more about Virginia, Captain Fitzgerald. May we at least have the pleasure of your company until you leave the island?’

‘Indeed you will.’

With the signal that the dinner was at an end, the ladies reconvened to the drawing room, where coffee was served, while the gentlemen remained to drink the port imported from Spain that had been Shona’s father’s drink of choice. In search of clearer air, her mood listless and dreamy, Shona went out on to the flower-laden terrace and walked along its length. The delicate tropical fragrances filled the warm air.

Glancing to the trees beyond the garden brought back memories of those distant days she would walk there with her father, when the trilling of birds filled the air and the soft flutter of moss dripping from the trees would brush against her face. She could even imagine the whiff of his spicy cologne and the smell of leather and horses on his clothes. However brief those recollections were, she was pierced by a longing so profound that it was all she could do not to cry out in anguish.

Now the evening was laden with the sound of chirping crickets, of blended voices drifting from the house. A languid breeze gently swayed the branches of the trees, rustling their leaves and sweeping the fragrance of sweet shrubs on to the terrace. Her mind occupied with her musings, she stared out across the shadow-mottled lawn and sighed. Suddenly a footfall sounded behind her. A dark shadow moved close to her and she was engulfed in a cloud of fragrant smoke. Her heart fluttered in her throat. ‘Oh,’ she uttered softly. ‘I thought I was alone.’

‘Your pardon, Miss McKenzie.’ The deep, rich voice of Captain Fitzgerald sounded concerned. ‘I did not mean to startle you. I was merely taking my pipe in the open air before I return to my ship—but be assured—to discourse with a beautiful woman on a moonlit night on a tropical isle is a pleasure beyond compare. Does the smoke bother you?’

Feeling her heartbeat quicken alarmingly, Shona was amazed by the effect his sudden presence was having on her pulse rate, but she was resolved not to let it show. She stared, trying to penetrate the dark shadows that hid his face. ‘Not at all. Enjoy your pipe at your leisure. I rather like the smell of tobacco. It brings back poignant memories of my father. He used to enjoy a pipe on occasion.’

‘A natural enough habit. They grow tobacco in Virginia. The Indians taught us how to smoke it.’

‘So I understand.’

‘If I am intruding, I will leave you.’

‘No,’ she said quickly, ‘please—you don’t have to go.’

He nodded. ‘Very well. I will stay.’

‘How long do you intend being on the island, Captain?’

Stepping out of the shadows, he looked at her through the wreath of smoke that curled from his pipe. ‘One week at the most.’ His hand cradling the bowl of his pipe came out and in a brief span the long stem swept the moonlight to encompass the rolling hills beyond the trees. ‘And then I must leave all this and return to London.’

Tilting her head on one side, she met his eyes. ‘You sound regretful. But you will return, will you not?’

‘At some point. Would you care to talk?’ he invited, propping his shoulder against the wall of the house and holding her gaze with his own.

Shona leaned against the trellising. ‘About what, Captain?’

The answer was slow in coming. ‘Anything.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Whatever would please you. Why don’t you begin by telling me something about this charming island you call home? I know that originally the Spanish claimed it for the Spanish crown and christened it Santamaria.’

‘That was so. They formed a small settlement and the islanders earned a living by hunting the wild cattle and hogs that overran the island and selling the smoked meat to passing ships. But eventually they vacated the island in favour of the larger islands in the Caribbean. It became a haunt for pirates until it was seized by the British and my father acquired it from the Crown.’

‘He was English?’

Shona shook her head. ‘He came from Scotland. When he was a small boy his father, who was a cattle rustler, was hanged for his crimes from the great tree in Inverary. Orphaned and determined to make a better life for himself and those who came after him, he moved south. With an agile mind and being quick-witted, he soon grasped the way of money, borrowing money for ventures and succeeding where others failed. Soon those he’d borrowed from came to him—merchants and aristocrats alike.’

‘That was some achievement—the actions of a man driven by his ambition.’

‘Yes, he was, but he was also a man of principle and nobody’s fool. From an early age he was determined to succeed.’ She remembered her father telling her how he’d acquired stately properties, country estates and huge tracts of land both in Britain and in the colonies. ‘His success earned him respect, but much as he yearned to be accepted into the higher ranks of society, he was rejected. He was thirty-five years old when he married my mother—the daughter of a country gentleman—and secured Santamaria from the Crown.’

‘And they decided to make it their home.’

‘On their first visit to the island they fell in love with it. They were so taken with it, and found that the climate suited them perfectly, that they decided to settle here. Soon, with every reasonable amenity available, and forming a cultured and charming small society of merchants on the island, my father built a house to outshine any of their friends who lived in London. Sadly, my mother didn’t live long enough to enjoy it. She died of a tropical fever shortly after giving birth to me.’

‘That must have been hard for you—being deprived of your mother at such a young age.’

‘It was, although I was too young to remember her.’

‘And you were close to your father?’

‘Yes,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I adored him. When I went to England he visited me there. When he left and came back to the island he became ill. I never saw him again.’

‘I’m sorry. Your life must be pretty limited on the island—your social life stilted, hidden away from the world.’

‘I’m not, not really. I love the island and the life here—but sometimes I feel like a bird in a cage unable to fly free,’ she said on a note of regret. ‘I loved England and the time I spent there. I made lots of friends, girls I went to school with. One day I will go back—soon, I hope. But you are right. Visitors to Santamaria are few and far between.’

‘Then it’s a crime, living here without connecting to the outside world.’ His stare tracked her with an intensity that she could feel from the short distance that separated them. ‘You should be in Virginia or London, being worshipped by wealthy young planters or noblemen and dancing till dawn.’

She stared at him in the gloom, flattered and quietly thrilled to think he thought enough about her to voice his opinion on what he thought was best for her, even though she hated the idea of leaving Santamaria for good. She was wildly encouraged all of a sudden to think that if he liked her so well, then surely he would help her. He was clearly a gentleman, no matter what the rumours said about him having dealings with pirates.

She would ask him now. Her excellent instincts told her that she could trust this man. ‘What would you say,’ she began slowly, ‘if I asked you for a favour?’

‘A favour?’ His eyes narrowed in sudden wariness. ‘What sort of favour, exactly?’

Her eyes held his and her confidence did not waver, though her heart was in her throat. Squaring her shoulders, she said, ‘Tell me—are you married, Captain Fitzgerald?’

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘Would you take me to England?’

Zack sighed heavily, knowing he could not. As lovely and womanly as she was, he knew he’d find it difficult to conduct himself with the sort of gallantry his mother might expect of him. Shona McKenzie was very much a lady and the consequences of dallying with sweet innocents ensconced on his ship could affect his life in a most permanent fashion.

‘The Ocean Pearl is a merchant ship, Miss McKenzie. I’m sorry. There are no suitable accommodations for passengers.’

‘I’m not talking about being a passenger, Captain Fitzgerald. Would—would you consider marrying me?’

‘Good God’ was all he said, otherwise he simply stared at her, into her hope-filled emerald eyes.

Somewhat heartened that she hadn’t been refused outright, Shona went on, ‘Before you give me your answer, perhaps I should mention that my father left me a substantial inheritance and—’

‘Please don’t go on,’ he interrupted, raising a hand to stop her. ‘I believe I understand. Forgive me if under the circumstances I don’t know the appropriate response—perhaps I am expected to say that I am honoured—you see, it’s the first time in my life that I’ve been proposed to. Is that why you asked me to stay, Miss McKenzie?’ he asked crisply. ‘To soften me so you could ask me this?’

She lowered her head at the question and nodded. ‘Yes, it was.’

He cursed softly, shoving himself away from the wall. How dare she presume to know what kind of man he was, to take advantage of his feelings and his desire for her, which he had not bothered to hide. With his thumb, he tamped the coals into the bowl of his pipe. His hands were large and, though they appeared to have the strength to break anything they had a mind to, they were amazingly gentle—the slim clay pipe seemed like a fragile bird between them. Taking a leather pouch from his pocket, he shoved the pipe inside and placed it back in his pocket.

‘My name is Shona,’ she said, trying to drag him into a familiarity that he did not desire.

Zack took a deep breath, praying he would wake up and discover this was part of some strange dream. Too late, he knew he should never have accepted Antony McKenzie’s invitation to dinner. The danger had been too great. He should have stayed away and tried to forget he had ever met the lovely young woman on the quayside. He didn’t need this kind of trouble. He could have availed himself of the company of any of the women on the seafront, but, oddly, he hadn’t quite felt in the mood for the full-blown temptresses he usually favoured. Somehow Shona McKenzie had wheedled her way under his skin. He should have stayed with his ship and sailed with the tide for the next island, as his instincts had warned.

‘Why are you so intent on marrying me? There must be enough unattached wealthy males on the island you could marry.’

‘No, not one,’ she replied.

‘Then do you see me as a ticket off the island? Is that it?’

Uncomfortable with both the question and the penetrating look in his eyes, Shona averted her gaze, fixing it on the dark perimeter of the garden. Captain Fitzgerald was a stranger and she found it difficult to discuss her present circumstances with him. How could she tell him how unhappy she was at Melrose Hill, that she missed her father desperately and the house in which she had been born and raised was no longer the home she knew—and that the only way she could escape Carmelita’s acid tongue was to marry and leave the island for good?

‘Yes,’ she admitted fiercely. ‘I want to leave the island. Antony is fiendishly protective of me and will not allow me to leave unless I have someone else—a husband to take care of me.’

Zack put his hands on his lean hips and regarded her coldly. ‘If your options are limited, then you will have to keep looking, Miss McKenzie. It will not be me. Absolutely not!’

Shona moved closer to him, not really knowing what she intended, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Turning her face up to his, she licked her lower lip, a softness entering her eyes. ‘I...can’t persuade you to change your mind, Captain?’

He gave her a hard look, his mouth tightening as he stared at her softly heaving bosom and the tantalising mouth that was full and soft and trembling, trying to ignore the mute appeal in those large, luminescent eyes, seeking refuge in his anger. She might look fragile, but he was beginning to suspect she was as strong as steel inside.

‘Devil take it, I will not be persuaded or manipulated into marriage, not even to a woman as lovely and bewitching as you, Miss McKenzie,’ he said, refusing to be moved. Normally he steered clear of entanglements with females of marriageable age or any females who might place demands on him, preferring instead the more honest and uncomplicated relationships with women of lower class and of lower expectations. It was the easiest way, he had learned from experience. A brief encounter back in England with a woman who had attracted him for a short time had left him shackled by bonds that could never be broken. He was not about to repeat the mistake.

‘I am a man who has made his own choices for most of my life. As much as I would like to appease my manly appetites with you, I will not, like some lapdog, blandly accept your proposal of marriage. Next time you decide to throw yourself at an experienced man of the world, tread lightly or you will not survive. I’m not termed a pleasant sort. I have a foul temper which can snap up naïve young ladies like you without a second’s notice. So be warned, Miss McKenzie. Do not tempt it. When and if I decide to marry, I prefer to do the asking myself.’

‘I...thought that...’

‘What?’ he jeered, ignoring the way the colour drained out of her soft cheeks as he continued with deliberate brutality. ‘That if you let me take advantage of you—I might be swayed.’

He seemed enormous and very close. His powerful body emanated heat, matching the heat that was rising in her cheeks. ‘I—I don’t know.’

‘Life isn’t like that. I have kissed many women I have been attracted to, but that doesn’t mean to say that I wanted to marry any of them.’

Shona was conscious of a sudden surge of anger, realising just how stupid and naïve she had been. ‘You may be used to kissing ladies all over the place, but I do not have your experience,’ she told him with simple honesty, giving Zack further insight into just how truly innocent she was.

‘Nevertheless, you were misguided to think I would marry you.’

‘I should tell you that my dowry is quite substantial.’

Zack’s entire face instantly became hard, shuttered and aloof. He looked her over carefully, as if to judge her for her worth, and appeared dubious as his brows snapped together and a feral gleam appeared in his narrowed eyes as they locked on hers with angry disgust.

‘Now you do insult me,’ he said, his voice so controlled that Shona felt an icy chill sweep down her spine. ‘I cannot be bought, either. I have no need of your money. I have plenty of my own. However large your dowry, Miss McKenzie, what makes you think you are worth it?’

Shona gasped, her humiliation complete. ‘Now it is you who insults me,’ she flared, a fresh surge of anger rising up inside her like flames licking round a dry log, furious with herself for being stupid enough to think he might help her.

‘If you have so much money, then what you do should not be a problem. You’ve had life handed to you on a silver platter. What more could you possibly want?’

‘Liberty,’ she cried passionately. ‘Freedom to do as I choose. Creature comforts are not all that matters to me.’

‘If you imagine that marriage will give you freedom, then think again. You will find yourself bound by shackles of a different kind. But if that’s what you want, then go ahead. You can live where you choose or buy yourself another husband—which shouldn’t be too difficult. You have other assets to your credit besides your substantial dowry,’ he ground out with suave brutality, his insolent, contemptuous gaze raking over her. ‘Another ship bound for England will drop her anchor in the cove before too long with some other fool on it for you to marry.’

Captain Fitzgerald’s jibe, savage and taunting, flicked over Shona like a whiplash. Stung to anger by his harsh words, hot colour flooded her cheeks and her soft lips tightened as she exerted every ounce of her control to keep her temper and her emotions in check. Stiffening her spine and lifting her small chin, she looked at him directly. Zack saw her put up a valiant fight for control—a fight she won—and she looked as regally erect as a proud young queen. Her eyes frosted over.

‘I understand you perfectly, Captain Fitzgerald. You are a devil—a barbarian, a callous barbarian—and I am sorry I approached you. We will say no more on the matter. I will trouble you no further and I thank you for your time.’

When she tried to sweep past him, his strong hand spun her around. ‘Barbarian? Believe me, Miss McKenzie, you have no idea how much of a barbarian I can be. You don’t want to be my wife, I assure you,’ he said, his voice rumbling soft above her like distant thunder.

His hold on her arm tightened. Slowly, with menacing deliberation, he backed her against the balustrade. His grip wasn’t overly painful, but the casual strength exerted in his fingers startled her. His other hand rose to grasp her chin, but Shona turned her face away, eluding capture. When his hard fingers at last closed over her jaw, she gasped in alarm.

‘Let go of me. You are hurting my arm. I can’t fight you. You are much stronger than I.’

Zack stared down at her. He hadn’t missed the flare of temper in her eyes, or the fear. He clenched his teeth in frustration. Impatiently he released his hold on her arm, his hand unintentionally brushing her breast. He was instantly aware of the contact, and so was she. He could tell by the furious blush that flooded her cheeks.

Shona tried to ignore the effect of his touch. ‘I asked you to let go of me,’ she uttered icily. ‘Remove your hands from my person.’

It was a supremely correct response, just the kind Zack would expect from a woman of her social standing. Perhaps he could turn her reticence to his own advantage.

‘I will do precisely that,’ he said, deliberately running his fingers along the side of her breast, ‘when I have made you realise your mistake in thinking you could manipulate me into marriage.’ Releasing his hold on her chin, with grim satisfaction he saw her flinch. He bent closer, his face dark and threatening and like granite in the moonlight. ‘As my wife you would be at my beck and call and I could take you any time I pleased. I would take my pleasure of you whenever I wanted. Shall I show you how I would assert my husbandly rights?’

Dimly, Shona saw his mouth slowly descending to hers. He put an arm about her waist and pulled her to him, moulding her body against his. Her legs felt weak, the back of her knees aching. As she gazed into his hard face, some lambent protective instinct cried a warning that she was getting in too deep. Panicked, she turned her face away a scant instant before his lips touched hers, her breath coming in rapid gasps as if she was running. Undaunted, Zack tipped her face back to his and lowered his mouth to hers. He assaulted her lips with a controlled expertise that left her gasping, engulfing her in a heady scent of brandy and tobacco. She was too surprised to resist and hung limp in his embrace. With no protest forthcoming he asserted pressure, his kiss growing more dedicated to strengthening her response and nearly devouring her lips in a tantalising frenzy.

His plundering, devouring kiss sent Shona spiralling off into a hot darkness where nothing mattered except his seductive, urgent mouth and knowledgeable hands. Overwhelmed by his raw, potent sexuality, she fed his hunger, her parted lips welcoming the thrusting invasion of his tongue, the sensations inside her mouth like tight buds that burst into blossom, filling her with splendour. She felt as if her whole being would melt, but her heart began to drum a faster rhythm as his fingers continued to stroke the side of her breast in a leisurely, erotic caress. From a low level of consciousness there grew a vague feeling of pleasure and, had the circumstances been different, she might have enjoyed the hard, wickedly masculine feel of his body against hers. But she reminded herself that he was doing this to abuse her, to demonstrate his power over her, to subdue her into a quivering wreck.

Trailing his warm lips over her cheek, Zack felt himself weakening in response. Devil take it, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. This wasn’t working. He was losing the battle for control.

Shona sensed his struggle. Through the haze in her mind, she heard him groan softly and, with an abruptness that left her swaying, he tore himself away. He stood there, staring down at her in silence as if seeing her for the first time, his look a mixture of pain and pleasure and anger. She was glad for the support of the balustrade against her back. Otherwise she might have fallen, her legs were so weak.

‘Why did you do that?’ she whispered. Her emotions seemed to be all over the place and a rogue tear trickled from the corner of her eye.

Zack hardly knew why himself as he looked at her standing there, teary-eyed and vulnerable. And lovely. By God, she was so lovely. He wanted her with a fierceness that stole his breath. His mouth tightened as he stared at her softly heaving bosom and the tantalising mouth that was still full and hot from his angry kisses. Lifting his hand to wipe away the tear, he drew back when she wrapped her arms around her waist, as if trying to protect herself from him. His jaw hardened, trying not to feel as if he were abusing a stray dog.

‘Don’t be concerned, Miss McKenzie,’ he rasped, his voice low and harsh in the silence, ‘that my barbaric display will be repeated. I won’t touch you again. I have enough troubles on my plate just now without adding to them by taking a wife. I bid you goodnight.’

Striding into the house in search of his first mate, intending to leave right away, he raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. The vexing tide of anger which had consumed him began to subside. Only the ragged pulse that had leapt to life in his throat attested to his disquiet as he looked ahead with feelings of regret. Miss McKenzie’s proposition pounded inside his head, combining with the torment of his own harsh rejection, and he wondered how she had managed to make him feel such a cad for refusing her.

Dear Lord, she was a magnificent creature, but heaven help the poor devil who got landed with her as a wife. He liked his women quick-tempered, spirited and with fire in their veins. It made for a satisfying and exciting relationship, but Shona McKenzie with her bullheaded stubbornness would not only need a husband as strong-willed as herself, but with the patience of a saint.

* * *

Shona stood looking out over the garden, shaken by what had just happened and the trend of her own thoughts. Nothing in all her twenty years could have prepared her for Zack Fitzgerald. His kiss had sent an explosive thrill crashing through her body. Her heart had raced with guilty pleasure. And this, heaven help her, was exactly what she had wanted from the man she chose to marry. Often she had dreamed of such a kiss, but this, her first, made those insubstantial dreams seem the shadows they were, the reality of flesh on flesh causing a delirium of delight. His lips had been warm and moist, caressing her own, pressing, probing, firm, growing more and more insistent, demanding the response she instinctively gave.

Her large green eyes swam with unaccountable tears, which she instantly dabbed away as earlier she had dabbed red wine from her lips—perhaps she had drunk too much wine. To say that she was aghast by her behaviour was an understatement. When she had fired her maiden salvo over the bow of convention and picked up her battle flag for liberty, she had not imagined Captain Fitzgerald’s fierce reaction to her proposal. It seemed impossible to her now not only had she proposed marriage to him, but had practically demanded that he do so.

She was still musing on what had occurred when she realised the shadows surrounding her were empty. Without a word or a stir of air, he was gone. Only the lingering smell of tobacco smoke was left to remind her that he had been here.

She wasn’t sure whether her anger and fierce disappointment was due more to his rejection of her proposal or because she was still left with the dilemma of her future. But whatever it was, it would be an evening etched in memory and emblazoned in her heart for all time.

One thing she was certain of—Captain Zachariah Fitzgerald was the last man in the world she would ever marry.

* * *

Carmelita had seen Shona go out on to the terrace. When she did not return, curious as to what was keeping her, she went to find her. Another survey of the gentlemen taking after-dinner drinks with Antony showed her that the captain was also absent.

She went in the direction of the terrace, peering into the moonlit garden. Standing in the shadows, she saw Captain Fitzgerald walk along the terrace and into the house. His face was expressionless, his jaw set hard. Keeping out of sight, she saw him stride into the house and heard him ask one of the servants as to the whereabouts of Mr Singleton. A few minutes later the two of them left.

Leaving the terrace, she came face-to-face with Shona. Her sister-in-law shot Carmelita a guilty look and went to join the other ladies without a word. The look in her eyes—what was it? Anger? Hurt? Disappointment? Carmelita was unable to tell, but whatever it was it told its own story.

She closed her eyes to hide the feral glitter in their depths, her thoughts upon how to bring the two of them together and ultimately get Shona off the island for good.