Mishap Marriage

‘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.

Chapter Three

Leaving the house and crossing the garden, Shona took a path that led into the forest. As she entered it she passed into a new, beautiful twilight world. Trees of enormous girth reared up two hundred feet in height, but their upper boughs could not be seen because they became lost in a smother of vegetation—a tangle of creepers which looped in all directions and cascaded down like green waterfalls, while others snaked upwards like green pythons. Mosses and ferns as large as small trees sprang out of the hollows, with stems as thick as a man’s arm. Many trees were loaded with fruit: green avocadoes, golden mangoes, wild apricots and limes.

The path wound downwards and, after five minutes, she emerged into an open space floored with an outcrop of rock. Water cascaded over huge boulders into a deep pool in the centre of the outcrop. On one side of this clearing a tangle of great boulders sloped up to a twenty-foot-high cliff, overlapped with verdure where the forest began again. On the other sides of the clearing trees again towered skyward and between them the dense vegetation cut out any view of the open space.

* * *

Zack arrived at the house for his meeting with Antony just as Shona left. From the open French doors he watched her walk into the woods. Moving to his side, Carmelita saw the way he watched her sister-in-law.

‘Shona is very beautiful. Do you not think so, Captain?’

‘I do agree.’

‘And—I suspect your visit is not just to see my husband?’

Zack’s eyes narrowed slightly. Leaving her question unanswered, he said, ‘I am here on your husband’s invitation to see the island.’

‘Then since Antony has been delayed at the mill and is not expected back for another half an hour, perhaps you would like to follow Shona. There is a creek where she likes to walk. It is very pretty. I am sure you would appreciate the view. Besides, for some reason she seems out of sorts today. Perhaps some company might cheer her.’

Zack was wary of her suggestion and felt that he was being manipulated in some way, but regretting his behaviour of the previous night and feeling he had to apologise to Shona for his harsh words and unable to quell the need to see her once more, he set off after her.

Her expression the quintessence of cunning, Carmelita watched him go. So far so good, she thought. By the time he reached the creek, Shona would have removed her gown and would be slipping into the deep waters. Having seen the lust burning in the depths of Captain Fitzgerald’s eyes whenever they had fallen on Shona over dinner the night before, she was in no doubt that he would be unable to resist her.

But showing him the bait was the easy part. Now she had to get him on the hook.

* * *

Zack followed the path Shona had taken. The most troubling thing of all was the intensity of his physical reaction to her. The lust. The rock-hard lust that turned his body into a single, painful craving to smell her scent, to touch her skin, to see her eyes soaking him up, to feel her taking him into her, looking at her face in pleasure, insanely, obscenely hiding nothing she was holding back.

This was no ordinary reaction to a woman. This shook him to the core and interfered with his thoughts, his life, tormented him, overpowered him. He didn’t understand why she had such a volatile effect on him, but he understood that he wanted her—he wanted her warm and willing in his arms.

In the dining room it had not gone unmissed that her sister-in-law’s sharp eyes were fixed on her the entire evening, which led him to believe that all was not as it seemed at Melrose Hill. It hadn’t been difficult for Zack to put the pieces together or to understand why Shona McKenzie had proposed to him afterwards. And he could sense her distress now as she sat at the side of the creek with her arms wrapped around her drawn-up knees, staring into the depths of the pool.

Zack distinctly felt his heart move and soften, then something speared him in the centre of his chest. She was a determined, wilful young woman, there was no doubt about that, but there was something vulnerable and sweet in her, something worth pursuing, something untapped, which she had allowed no one to see. He had been overwhelmed when he had left her the night before by the stunning realisation that this woman, if he didn’t take care, could mean something to him and he didn’t want it. He ought to stay away, he warned himself as he descended the path, realising Shona McKenzie spelled trouble and more trouble.

In this secluded place she had removed her dress. Her hair was wet and slicked back from her face, her petticoat clinging to her body. Her flesh shimmered in the light filtering through the treetops, making her appear as tantalising and as elusive as a woodland sprite. She was the lovely, young yet feisty, naïve young woman he had seen on the quay and he’d been unable to think of anything but her since last night. The sight of her hypnotised him and he felt the peace thread through his veins and stitch itself to his heart. Whatever the danger she posed to his sensibilities, he knew he could not walk away.