“Nothing I heard about you, before the governor’s ball or since, had led me to think of you as being a coward, Rockborne.”
Magnus closed his eyes, as well as offered up a silent prayer for assistance, in order to delay the inevitability of his having to turn in the spaciousness of his cabin aboard ship and face the forthright Olivia Buchan.
An encounter he should have realized, knowing of Olivia’s penchant for bluntness, would occur sometime before he and the ships under his command were able to sail away from the island, never to return.
It had been three days since they had met at the governor’s ball, and one of Magnus’s officers was now acting as escort to several of the island’s society ladies and gentlemen who had expressed a wish to be shown about one of His Majesty’s sailing ships.
The same three days and nights since Magnus had come to his senses and decided not to meet Olivia out on the terrace to dance a waltz.
Instead, he had made his excuses to the governor shortly before ten o’clock, claiming that duty called him back to his ship. Cowardly of him, as Olivia had just accused, but at the time it had seemed by far the safest thing for him to do for both their sakes.
Even three days later, it still made absolutely no sense to Magnus why he had felt compelled to make such a scandalous assignation with Olivia Buchan in the first place.
The first time he had set eyes on Olivia, purely because of her visual likeness to Emelia Brigham, he had decided he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.
That aversion to her company hadn’t changed during the first moments of the awkward conversation she had forced upon him that evening, completely against the strict etiquette imposed upon an unmarried woman.
But as the minutes passed, he admitted to grudgingly enjoying the challenge of the bluntness of her conversation. So much so that the moment it came to the two of them parting and possibly never seeing or speaking to each other again, Magnus had been surprised to realize he wished to prevent that from happening.
By inviting Olivia to join you in a private waltz outside on the terrace later that evening, he internally rebuked himself.
Yes, that was exactly what he’d done, he acknowledged heavily.
Something so socially unacceptable and out of character for him, that if they had both kept the assignation and been discovered the man she called Uncle Cormac would be perfectly within his rights to demand Magnus either marry the chit or give satisfaction in some other fashion.
As Magnus had no intention of marrying Olivia, the latter would have likely occurred.
Prinny would not only frown upon an illegal duel taking place between one of his sea admirals and a resident of one of the Crown’s dependencies, but would also have no choice but to dismiss Magnus from his service.
Admittedly, it would save Magnus the bother of resigning his commission, but it was not the way he wished to end his naval career.
Magnus’s excuse for having made that invitation to Olivia was that not only was she beautiful, but also unlike any other woman he had ever met, either in England or abroad. He found her honesty, although sometimes uncomfortable to listen to when directed at him, to be a breath of fresh air when for so many years, women had attempted to entice him into their bed, or into marriage, with a feigned or genuine sweetness and submission.
He very much doubted that Olivia had a single submissive bone in her body, in or out of the bedchamber.
Damn it, he could not allow his thoughts to go there again!
Not that he’d been able, even for a moment, to banish those imaginings of how magnificent Olivia would look in the throes of sexual pleasure.
She would be, and look, an untamed siren. One who took as much pleasure as she gave. Beautiful and wild, her body glistening with a sexual dew, and her hair a wild cascade of ebony down her spine, those unusual violet-colored eyes dark and stormy in her pleasure-flushed face.
Dear God, he could not be in his right mind to be having such intimate and inappropriate thoughts about someone so young and obviously physically inexperienced.
The very same thoughts that had plagued him for the past three nights and days as those images of a wild and wanton Olivia had swirled incessantly inside his head, no matter what he was doing at the time.
And now here she was again, having no doubt come aboard as a member of the party being escorted about his ship by one of his senior officers.
Escorted being the relevant word, he realized as he turned sharply to face where she stood in the open doorway of his cabin.
Looking so beautiful, Magnus was dismayed to admit, in a gown of the palest lilac with a matching bonnet covering her dark curls and framing that heart-shaped face, that she completely took his breath away.
Olivia inwardly recoiled—she would never outwardly show such a reaction—at the expression of fierce anger she recognized on Magnus Forsythe’s face as he glared across the cabin at her. His eyes were a glowering and stormy blue, his cheeks hollowed, his jaw tight, lips thinned, and every inch of his several-inches-over-six-feet frame seemed to bristle with that same resentment.
It was obvious, from the fact his navy-blue uniform jacket was draped over the back of the chair sitting regally behind the imposing oak desk set in front of the array of windows at the stern of the ship, that he had not been expecting company.
Her company least of all, that unguarded look of anger in his expression clearly stated.
Well, that was unfortunate for him.
As far as Olivia was concerned, this man owed her an apology for having failed to meet her on the governor’s terrace at the assigned time on Saturday evening.
She had waited outside for over half an hour before returning to the ballroom to discover Magnus Forsythe had already made his excuses and left the governor’s mansion altogether to return to his ship.
And after Olivia had previously been gently reprimanded by her aunt and uncle as to the unsuitability of her having conversed alone and for so long with the admiral in the first place.
Cecelia had been excited rather than scandalized, demanding to know every word spoken between Olivia and the handsome sea admiral. Olivia had told her the gist of the conversation, but wisely omitted the admiral’s invitation for the two of them to meet on the terrace later in the evening.
Just as well, when he had failed to appear!
The three days since, without the admiral having sent so much as a note of apology for his behavior or Olivia seeing him about the island, had only added to the displeasure she now felt toward him. Being given the opportunity today to confront him aboard his own ship had been far too tempting for her to resist.
She lifted her chin in challenge. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Rockborne?”
His expression remained stern. “Why are you not with the other guests being escorted about the ship by one of my officers?”
Her brows rose at his aggressive tone. “Because I chose to seek you out instead so that I might demand an apology from you for having made an appointment with me at the governor’s ball and then failing to keep it.”
Magnus scowled. “Obviously, I changed my mind as to the wisdom of there being such a meeting between us.”
“Then you should have informed me of that decision rather than simply choosing not to appear,” she returned waspishly.
“Did your aunt accompany you on board today?” he demanded.
She shook her head. “My cousin Cecelia and several older ladies and their husbands. My aunt has a tendency toward seasickness, apparently. Even when a ship is at anchor.”
“That must make it very difficult for her to leave and return to the island.”
It was the reason, Olivia had surmised, why her aunt and uncle’s visits to London had been so infrequent over the years. “I believe she rarely does.”
“I— What are you doing?” Magnus demanded as Olivia stepped inside the cabin and closed the door.
She gave him a dismissive glance. “I should have thought it was obvious that I am entering your cabin and then closing the door behind me once I have done so.”
His eyes had narrowed to suspicious blue slits. “Why?”
Olivia gave him a derisive glance. “So that we might talk in private.”
“Again, I ask why?”
She eyed him curiously. “Why are you so nervous, Magnus?”
“I am not in the least nervous,” he snapped. “Displeased, yes, but not nervous.”
Olivia begged to differ. For such a large man, today the admiral appeared to be far less the confident and imposing gentleman she had met on Saturday.
Implying she was responsible for making him nervous.
As if being alone with her made him uneasy.
Nonsense. There was nothing about her which might cause such a reaction in a man so much older and experienced than she was.
“Why are you displeased?” she mildly questioned. Her tongue might be sharp, but she rarely, if ever, lost her temper.
A nerve pulsed in his throat just beneath his clenched jaw. “Possibly because I am unaccustomed to being accosted by a lady in the privacy of my cabin aboard my own ship.”
Olivia gave an appreciative glance about the room that took up the whole of the stern on this deck. It was far larger than she had thought it would be, accommodating a large desk, along with an equally large chair behind it. Several maps and ledgers sat on the desktop. A long wooden shelf big enough for sitting upon ran the length of the huge windows looking out at the back of the ship. There was also a small private dining table and chairs. A closed door to one side of this main room led Olivia to think that must be where the admiral slept and also carried out his ablutions.
It was a surprisingly commodious space considering there were over eight hundred men on board.
Many of those sailors, from all three of the ships at anchor, were currently on the island enjoying several days and nights of shore leave. Along with the attractions of the island’s more accommodating single ladies, Olivia would hazard a guess.
“Even more so,” Rockborne continued in a hard voice, “because I did not invite you here.”
Olivia had a feeling that aboard this ship, Magnus was not only admiral but also a commander who did not allow for his decisions to be questioned. Ever. Having a woman challenge him in the privacy of his cabin had probably stepped on more than a few naval rules regarding having a female aboard a warship, as well as his own self-imposed boundaries.
Instead of answering his accusing tone, Olivia glanced at the cluttered desktop. “Did I interrupt you at your work?”
Magnus’s mouth tightened. “I believe, as I was standing and staring out the window when you entered the room, you already know the answer to that question is no, I was not working.”
She stepped into the center of the cabin. “You may have been…deep in thought regarding important naval matters.”
Or he might have been deep in thought about this bloody woman.
Again.
Seeing Olivia once more, and in his cabin aboard his ship of all places, only served to show him she was even more beautiful than his imaginings.
Had any other woman ever had such unusual violet eyes?
Such unblemished white skin?
Such a long and enticing throat?
Or such delicious and plump breasts, shown to advantage by the round neckline of her pale lilac gown? Tempting him to kiss, lick, and suck them?
Well…yes, her Aunt Emelia had been very similar in looks.
But within a few minutes’ acquaintance, Magnus had realized Olivia was by far the original and Emelia but a shadow of the promise of the beauty and vivacity of the niece who would come after her.
Magnus also knew from speaking with Olivia that her appeal for him was heightened by her blunt honesty and forthright manner.
Which was why it was now unfair of anyone or anything, including strict social rules, to expect Magnus to remain immune when presented with the flesh-and-blood woman who had haunted and possessed his dreams these past three nights.
Even so, he knew he must try to at least keep her verbally at arm’s length. “I’ll have one of my men show you back to where the other visitors are— What are you doing?” he groaned as he suddenly found himself with an armful of soft and wonderfully warm woman.
No man, least of all one who had physically ached to touch and hold this woman since he first set eyes on her, could be expected to resist that warmth.
Except…
Magnus closed his eyes and drew in a deep and controlling breath.
His sense of honor said he should tell Olivia of his past association with her aunt, even at the risk of alienating her forever.
And if he didn’t tell Olivia that truth now but delayed it until after he had kissed and tasted her delicious lips?
Then Magnus had no doubt she wouldn’t hesitate to verbally eviscerate him for not having done so.
Surely, he could be allowed one taste of those plump lips? Enjoy that single selfish indulgence before Olivia looked at him with disgust rather than the desire Magnus could currently see burning in those violet depths.
A gentleman would not—
Could not—
Damn it, he was a man, not a saint.
At this moment, he was certainly not a gentleman!