She glanced at him, his face burnished by the firelight. For so long she had been angry at him, had convinced herself he was cold and heartless. But she could not lie to herself any longer, not when he sat with his daughter on his knee. Not when his men told her he kept nothing of his share of the profits from his piracy. Who was this man?
And if he was so tender, so compassionate, why had he treated her so poorly?
She was more than happy to snuggle with Rissa in the tent until the girl fell asleep, but instead of nodding off along with the child, Ashley remained awake. Her thoughts returned to that night so long ago at Lord Rundale’s ball. The night Nick had scorned her. Why treat her so if he was a good man at his core? She deserved some sort of explanation, didn’t she? Perhaps it was time she demanded it. Perhaps she finally had the courage to confront him about it.
She rose, swaying slightly on her feet, and marched back to the fires on the beach. Nick was reclining on one elbow and did not see her coming until Chante poked him and nodded to her. Nick rose to his feet and gave her a wary look. “You look as though you should be in bed,” he said. Ashley half expected rude comments from the men sitting about the fire, but of course, this was their captain. They would make them later, out of his hearing.
“I have something I wish to discuss with you.” She glanced at the men. “In private.”
“We can discuss it tomorrow, when your head is clear.”
“My head is clear enough now. Walk with me, if you please, my lord.” She thought she heard him sigh, but after a moment’s hesitation, he excused himself from the men and followed her along the beach. She knew where she was going. There was a secluded spot not far from where the men camped. The island curved, and the trees jutted out so the beach there was hidden. A small brook ran nearby, and she and the women had followed it to a larger pond where they fished. Now she led him back, turning to speak to him when the trees finally obscured them.
The night was clear, and the moon gave enough light for her to ascertain that they were alone. “I have something to ask you. I know the answer, but I want to hear it from your lips, just the same.”
Nick’s look was unreadable, but he did not wait for her question, before speaking. “Ashley, you are...if not foxed, close to it. We should have this talk tomorrow.”
“I want to have it tonight.” She folded her arms across her chest and noted how his eyes dipped to follow the movement. The night was warm, but the breeze from the water was refreshing. It chilled her slightly, making her nipples harden. It was too dark for him to see the hard points, of that she was certain, but she became more aware of them when his eyes lowered. Being this near to him made her more aware of everything—the sounds of insects nearby, the whisper of the breeze in the trees, the scent of the island flowers, and the warmth of his body. She remembered the way her body felt when he touched it, and she took a shaky breath before speaking again. “Tomorrow I might lack the courage.”
“If rum is required to give you courage, perhaps it is not a conversation we should undertake at all.” He reached out and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She hoped she did not look as disheveled as she felt. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d brushed her hair. “I can think of better ways to spend a night like this.” He glanced up at the sky, and she knew what he saw—millions and millions of stars. She’d lived in foggy, dirty London most of her life, and the sight of so many stars, seemingly so close she could reach out and touch them, was still a wonder to her.
“That’s what I want to discuss with you,” she said, keeping her gaze on him. “That night at the Rundale’s ball.”
He sighed. “Ashley, that is behind us now. You are my wife. Let’s forget the past.”
She swallowed. She wanted to forget the past. She was desperate to forget it, but she could not. She could not go forward without knowing if her supposition was true. “That night, when I found you in the library, you wanted me to find you, didn’t you?”
He raked a hand through his hair, so a lock fell over his forehead and shadowed his eyes. “Yes. I wanted you to find me. I wanted you to hate me.”
“Because you were too much of a coward to tell me the truth.”
“I couldn’t tell you. I could not risk telling anyone.”
Her mind swam, but even in her rum-induced state, she knew what he said did not make sense. “I don’t understand. If you didn’t want me, you could have just been honest with me.”
“That’s where you are wrong. I did want you.” He stepped closer and his warm hands settled on her shoulders. “I wanted you desperately, and perhaps that was my weakness.”
She swayed slightly, feeling as though her entire world was swimming. Nick had wanted her? Desperately? Then why had he spurned her? Was it possible her disfigurement hadn’t disgusted him? That he walked away from her for another reason altogether?
“I knew I would never have the strength to resist taking you in my arms again.” His fingers flexed on her bare skin, where the material of the blouse had been pushed to the edge of her shoulder. “If you walked away, if you hated me, that would end our relationship.”
“But why end it?” She knew the answer before he even spoke. “Because of the Robin Hood. Because of Yussef and the island. You did not want to involve me in your secret life.” Da—drat it! Would she never prove he was the scoundrel she’d thought him to be?
“I should never have become involved with you. I knew you were more than a dalliance, and I couldn’t afford more. But I couldn’t resist you.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips where his hand had been. Ashley clenched her jaw and willed herself not to give in to the pleasure of his lips on her skin. He seemed to speak the truth, but she had to know if that was all of it. She closed her eyes and forced herself to speak.
“Then it wasn’t my leg? It didn’t disgust you?”
His head jerked up, and when she opened her eyes, his gaze met hers. At least she thought it did. It was too dark for her to see his face clearly. “You? Disgust me? Never.”
She shook her head, backing away from him. He hadn’t seen her leg that night they’d made love so long ago. She had thought she’d been careful not to allow him to see, but then when he’d rejected her it was the only excuse she could think of. She hadn’t known he was a pirate, and she had assumed the reason he’d not wanted her had to do with her. “I have to go,” she whispered, turning to walk back. “I have to think.”
With three strides, he caught her arm. “Don’t walk away from me. You brought me here. Why did you think I ended our relationship? What about your leg?”
So he’d heard that. Damn! Rather, drat! “Nothing.”
She tugged, but he didn’t release her. “Why would I find your leg disgusting?” His free hand traveled up and down her arm. “There’s nothing about you disgusting. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“No, I’m not.” She shook her head and tried again to escape him. Tears burned her eyes, and she wanted to escape before they fell, and she embarrassed herself by weeping in his presence. “I’m not.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away.
