A knock came at the door.
Jess smiled, knowing who it was just by the cadence. The door opened without any encouragement from her. Alistair swept into the limited confines of her cabin with absolute confidence of his welcome.
He was so comely, he took her breath away. He had changed since they’d been at sea, most especially over the past week in which they had been lovers. His beautiful blue eyes were brighter now, prone to amusement and warmth. There was a new softness to his features that, impossibly, made him even more handsome. And the way he moved … there was an underlying leisure to the sensuality that marked him. As if she soothed the beast within him. It was a fanciful thought, but one that pleased her immensely.
He came to where she sat at the table and bent to press his lips to her temple. She lifted her mouth to his with an admonishing hum, securing a real kiss from him.
“Good evening,” she breathed, feeling her usual inordinate pleasure at the intimacy between them. It was similar to the ease with which she’d lived with Tarley, yet it was not the same. Her response to Alistair was far richer and deeper in tone. It pained her to realize her relationship with Benedict hadn’t been all that it, perhaps, could have been. Yet she’d come to suspect that whatever was lacking in her marriage had been due to Alistair. Unbeknown to her, he’d been there in the shadows, occupying a space in her mind that he’d allowed no one to usurp.
“It is now.” He straightened, revealing a leather-bound ledger tucked under his arm.
“What is that?”
“Work.” He set it down on the table.
She smiled and set aside the quill with which she’d been writing a letter to Hester. “I’m happy you came to me even though you have more pressing matters to attend to.”
“I would prefer to make love to you instead, but I suspect you’ll soon be indisposed to such exertions.”
Her brows rose. Her courses had begun just that morning. “How did you know?”
He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the chair opposite her. “How could I not know? I touch your body more than I touch my own. Your breasts are swollen and tender, and your desire for sex has been at a fever pitch the last two days. Among other signs.”
Jess’s mouth curved with wry amusement. “Observant man.”
“Can’t be helped,” he said, smiling back at her. “I cannot take my eyes off you.”
“Flatterer,” she teased. “And, sadly, I am indisposed. I could accommodate you in other ways, though …”
He sat. “A delicious thought, but I am content to simply be with you.”
Jess inhaled a deep breath, an involuntary response to the sudden racing of her heart. He said the words so casually, but she was deeply affected by his openness and the vulnerability inherent in his lack of guile. Lord knew, she was vulnerable, too. “I feel the same,” she said softly.
“I know.” Alistair reached across the table for her hand. “I cannot tell you what it means to me that whether or not we have sex doesn’t affect your desire to spend time with me.”
She couldn’t say why it surprised her to learn that a handsome man wanted to be appreciated for more than his exterior and desired for more than his sexual prowess. “Alistair …”
“Don’t pity me,” he said sharply in response to her softened tone of voice. “I will take any emotion from you but that one.”
“I adore you.”
The harsh line of his mouth smoothed. “That one will do nicely.”
She shook her head. “I won’t have you feeling ashamed of yourself because of me. I have not—nor will I ever—judge you harshly for your past choices, but if you cannot abide yourself when we’re together, we are better off apart.”
He scowled. “Now, see here—”
“No, you must see. You have to decide, right this very moment, that you are as worthy of my affections as any other man. If you cannot, I would like for you to leave.”
Alistair cursed under his breath. “You cannot say such things to me.”
“Damned if I can’t,” she shot back. “You may delude yourself into thinking I’m perfect, but I am only a woman and only partly a woman at that, since I’m barren. I must say, it’s vastly unfair that I cannot have children; yet I bleed as if it was possible.”
“So, you are menstruating?” he asked in a tone that was too light.
“If you were worried I wouldn’t, you should not have been.”
He held her gaze. “Are you certain? Perhaps the fault was Tarley’s.”
“No. He had a child with a mistress before we wed.”
“Perhaps the child wasn’t his?”
“If you saw the boy, you would have no doubt. Like your brothers, he is the very image of his father.”
Alistair nodded and directed his attention to his ledger.
A chill moved through Jess. The end of their relationship was inevitable if he wanted children, which most men did. And he deserved that sort of happiness.
“I’ve watched you with the boy,” she said, referring to the child she’d tried to rescue from abuse a week before. Alistair had taken an interest in the young sailor, working with him on knots and other useful skills, and she had enjoyed watching them together. “You will make a wonderful father someday.”
He glanced up at her, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His hair had grown slightly longer, and she loved how the black strands framed his face. Her hand lifted to her throat and massaged the tightness there.
“Jessica.” He exhaled harshly. “I’ve never given much thought to having children. Now, I won’t give the matter any thought at all.”
“Don’t say that. You cannot deny yourself the joy arbitrarily.”
“Procreation requires a partner, as you know. You are the first link in that chain. If you are also the last link, so be it. I cannot even begin to contemplate making the effort with anyone else.”
Her vision blurred. Blinking through an embarrassing sting of tears, she pushed back from the table in a rush and hurried over to the crate of claret waiting in the corner.
“Jess …”
She heard the scrape of chair legs atop the sole behind her; then firm hands gripped her shoulders the second before she bent down to grab the neck of a bottle.
“Hearing how I feel about you drives you to drink?” he asked with his lips to her ear.
“No. Being selfish enough to feel glad about it does.”
“I want you to feel selfish about me.”
Jess shook her head violently. “Love is selfless. Or it is supposed to be.”
“For some, perhaps. You and I have had so much taken from us. It is as it should be for us to take from each other.”
Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against his shoulder. His arms came around her, and she placed her hands over his. “You have many siblings. You must want a large family of your own?”
“If we are going to discuss my family, we’ll need that claret.”
He walked away. Jess grabbed a bottle and straightened. When she turned around he was pulling two goblets out of the small chest by the cabin door.
She put the wine on the table and sat. Alistair set the glasses down, then pulled the cork from the bottle. He left the claret to breathe and settled back in his chair, eyeing her in a manner that was both examining and contemplative.
She waited patiently.
“Have you never wondered why Masterson’s paternal traits exerted themselves so strongly in my brothers, yet I am the mirror of my mother?”
“One doesn’t question such blessings.”
The compliment earned a small smile from him.
“So,” she said. “I surmise Masterson isn’t your father.”
“And you do not care,” he noted softly.
“Why would I?”