Read The Perfect Wife Online

Authors: Victoria Alexander

Tags: #Demonoid Upload 3

The Perfect Wife (11 page)

He stared down at her, his endless gaze drawing her closer, melting her defiance, sapping her control. “And never ...” he kissed the tip of her nose, “ever...” he nuzzled her ear, “should a brother kiss like this.”

His mouth descended on hers, firm yet gentle. She lost herself in the spiraling sensations brought on by the mere touch of his lips. Desire rose unbidden within her, and she clutched his shirt convulsively. Her knees weakened and she clung to him. He stole her breath, her will, her soul.

He pulled away, his expression set and hard. She stared back, past caring that he would surely see her passion mirrored in her eyes.

“Now that you know what not to do with a brother, see that it never happens again. Especially with Madison.” He released her, strode toward the door and turned back. “I forbid it.”

Her desire turned to disdain. “I told you, I’ll do what I please. You have absolutely no right—”

“Ah, but I do, my dear.” He opened the door and smiled pleasantly. A heavy knot weighed in her stomach. “I am, after all, your husband. I have every right in the world.” He stepped through the door and snapped it closed behind him.

Sabrina stared, fury welling through her. What an insufferable, arrogant, self-righteous, condescending ass! She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, to rage uncontrollably. Not in years had this urge to do something, anything, just to release the frustration inside, assaulted her like this. If he walked back in at that moment, so help her, she’d be hard pressed not to tear him apart with her bare hands.

A sharp knock sounded at the door and it swung open. He was back. Without thinking, she turned, grabbed a heavy mug off the table and hurled it with all her might. It shattered above the door, bits of pottery flying in a furious rain.

Matt leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, amusement dancing in his azure eyes. “And here I thought you were glad to see me.”

“Matt, good Lord, I’m sorry.” She brushed her hair back from her face. “I thought it was him.”

“The husband?” He raised an inquisitive brow. Sabrina grimaced in acknowledgment. “I see. We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“Very probably.” She sighed.

He closed the cabin door and stepped to the chest that stored his best brandy. Matt pulled out the bottle, eyed it thoughtfully, and cast her a questioning glance. “Was it good?”

She moved next to him, picked up a mug and held it toward him. “Delightful.”

Obligingly, he filled the cup. “Why did you marry him?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Sabrina shrugged helplessly. “I’m not really sure. It seemed like a very clever idea at the time.”

“Simon told me you got angry, and the next thing he knew, there was a wedding.”

She took a deep swallow, the sting of the brandy biting and hot. “Something like that.”

“You could have married me, you know. You always seemed to be mad at me.” He grinned a lopsided smile that had melted more than one woman’s heart.

“Matt!” She laughed. “I have certainly missed you.” She stepped to the table and set down her mug.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Sabrina rested her head against his broad, powerful chest. It was somehow comforting to stand here, close and secure. She had missed him.

“Do you remember the last time we saw each other?”

“Of course.” Her mind wandered back beyond the years to a time when intrigue filled her days and adventure charged her nights. She could still recall the delightfully sinful excitement of danger. “It was the night of our final run. That annoying government agent was making life too difficult, and we had to bash him on the head to get him out of the way.”

Odd, she hadn’t thought of him for a long time. For years the man whose face she’d never seen had filled her fantasies. In her dreams she relived the memory of her impulsive kiss. He was the second man she’d ever kissed, and when she thought about it later she wasn’t certain what had prompted the rash action. She hadn’t told Matt about the kiss then and wouldn’t tell him now.

“I remember, when all was completed, that we walked on the beach before you sailed.”

“I wanted you to come with me,” he reminded her.

“Matt, I had a child to raise and a life to build.” She laughed softly. “We wouldn’t have suited. You’d have been off chasing lightskirts in every port. And I would have had to cut your heart out.”

“But I loved you, Bree,” he said mournfully.

She laughed again. “If I remember correctly, we settled that.”

“Remind me,” he growled, resting his chin on her head.

“I said we were too good friends to be lovers. I told you, you were the brother I never had. And then you kissed me. And ...”

He sighed. “It was just like kissing my sister.”

Sabrina smiled at the thought of her discussion with Nicholas over the proper and improper ways for a brother to kiss a sister. Matt’s kiss was pleasant enough, but it never took her breath away or turned her knees to mush and her heart to fire. Not like that bloody man she’d married.

Matt stepped back and turned her around. His gaze searched her face. “Does he make you happy? Do you love him?”

“Love?” Sabrina scoffed and pulled away. She retrieved her mug and took a sip. “Love has nothing to do with it. This is strictly a marriage of convenience.”

“A marriage of convenience?” Matt snorted. “What in the hell is that?”

“Bloody difficult, actually.”

“It shouldn’t be.” He picked up his own cup and drew a deep swallow. “I’ve seen the way the man looks at you— like a shark sizing up a minnow.” He nodded toward her. “I know that look. The man wants you. He even threatened to kill me if I so much as touched you.”

“Truly?” Sabrina couldn’t suppress a smug smile. “How rude of him.”

Matt threw her a skeptical glance. “Somehow, I don’t think the thought of my death at the hands of your husband has you quite as torn up as I would have hoped you’d be.” Surprise washed across his face. “You really do care for him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know how I feel about Nicholas right now,” she snapped. “And I really don’t want to talk about him.”

Matt shrugged. “I’m more than happy to oblige on that score. I can think of a lot of things I’d rather discuss than your husband.” He strode to a chair and sat down, swinging his legs up to rest them on a second chair nearby. He leaned back until he tottered precariously on two wooden legs. “So let’s talk gold instead.”

Sabrina swept his feet off the chair with a wave of her hand and Matt thumped to the floor. She sank into the now vacant seat. “What has Simon told you?”

“Not much. Something about gold hidden in Egypt by the French.”

She leaned forward eagerly. “It’s a fortune, Matt. At least a half million. Left there for twenty years. Waiting ... for us.”

“I can’t say it’s not an interesting story, but why are you after this gold? The last time I saw you, you’d amassed quite a sizable fortune for yourself.” He narrowed his eyes and studied her face. “Are you broke, Bree?”

“Not exactly,” she hedged. “I’ve simply had some financial reversals. A problem with the management of my investments. And with Belinda about to be wed and the need for a respectable dowry, well...” She glared at him defiantly. “I need the money, that’s all. And what about you? I can’t believe you couldn’t use a few additional funds.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Money doesn’t seem as important as it once was. The
Lady B’s
just one of a half-dozen ships I own now. So you see, I’ve done pretty well for myself. Of course ...” he flashed her a grin, “making my fortune in legal and respectable ways isn’t nearly as much fun as when there’s a little larceny involved.”

Sabrina’s heart sank. The search for the gold was a speculative and possibly dangerous quest. If Matt really didn’t need the money, there would be no reason for him to help her. And without Matt she wasn’t at all sure how she’d handle Nicholas.

“Very well,” she said slowly. “I understand why you don’t want to be a part of this. Still, I do appreciate your—”

“Hold on there, Bree.” Matt leaned toward her and grabbed her hands. “I never said I wouldn’t do it. It’s just that the money itself doesn’t mean a lot. But life these days has been resoundingly dull, and what you’re proposing sounds a great deal more exciting than anything that’s crossed my path lately.” His eyes twinkled. “Besides, you really didn’t think I’d pass up the chance to work with my old partner again, did you?”

Relieved, Sabrina returned his grin and quelled the impulse to throw her arms around him. Matt’s agreement left only one man to convince, and she wasn’t at all sure how to handle that. At this point she didn’t even know when she would spring her treasure hunt on Nicholas. But with every passing day the ship drew closer to Egypt, closer to the treasure, closer to telling her husband at least one of her secrets.

“But tell me something else, Bree. You’ve got this rich husband now. Why are you still worried about money?”

She removed her hands from his grasp and leaned back in the chair. “Matt, you remember when we met I was struggling to turn a miserable army of villagers and fishermen into something resembling a competent smuggling operation.” He nodded. “You know, Jack left me with practically nothing. Only my jewels, the London house and quite a few debts.”

She gazed across the room at a distant spot and a far-ago time. “All my life I always thought someone would be around to take care of me. Actually expected it. First there was my great-aunt, after my parents died. And even though she packed me off to school eventually, she still paid the bills. Then there was Jack, who didn’t feel a mere woman should be involved in matters of finance. While I long suspected our pockets were nearly empty, he would not discuss it or even admit it to me. And he did seem to manage to handle everything.

“When he died I returned to my great-aunt’s, fully expecting to be taken care of once again. She lived about a day’s ride from the village where you and I met. There I was, a young, virtually penniless widow with a small child, and one day I overheard the servants talking about what a great strain on the household our presence was. I don’t know if they knew I was listening or not. Regardless, the entire discussion brought home to me how dependent I was.

“Odd I had never thought of it before, and perhaps if I had, I would not have considered it a problem. I daresay most women don’t. But somehow, listening to those hardworking people and knowing I contributed nothing—was practically worthless, in fact—filled me with shame and a certain amount of self-pity. After all,” she laughed softly, “there are few ways for a respectable female from a good family with a good name to provide for herself.”

She took a deep pull from her mug and stared directly into Matt’s eyes. “The pity became determination to help myself. I vowed right then never to have to depend on anyone ever again to provide for me. And so far...” she raised her mug in a toast, “I haven’t.”

He pulled his brows together in a thoughtful frown. “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

She arched a brow. “When, Matt? When we first met and you were highly suspicious of a titled Englishwoman proposing to help smuggle goods into her country? Later, when I occasionally sailed with you? My dear friend, the question of why I was doing what I did never came up.” She tossed him a wry smile. “And you never asked.”

He toyed with the mug of brandy before him and refused to meet her gaze. “I do understand now, of course, but are you sure it wouldn’t be much simpler, and safer, for me just to give you the money you need? Strictly a loan, of course.”

“Matt...” She laughed, and his startled gaze met hers. “I fear you haven’t been listening. I have to do this myself, just as I had to do it before. I don’t want your money. But I needed your help then, and I daresay I shall need it now. Besides ...” Sabrina tossed him a cocky grin, “if you think your respectable life has been boring, I can’t begin to tell you what mine has been like. I’ve been sedate and serene, always minding my manners and doing what’s proper. I’ve been so well behaved my dear husband even refers to me as dull and boring.”

The moment the words passed her lips Sabrina realized what she’d said, and her eyes widened in horror. She had her own personal code of honor and, despite her problems with Nicholas, it dictated that there were some things that should stay strictly between husband and wife.

Matt’s face split in an ear-to-ear grin. “He doesn’t know you very well yet, does he?”

“I suspect he’s beginning to.”

Matt flicked his gaze over her. “And what does he say about those quite fetching but definitely improper clothes you’ve been wearing?”

“You know, it’s extremely odd,” Sabrina mused. “I fully expected him to demand I change at once, yet he hasn’t offered much more than an occasional compliment.”

Matt raised a questioning brow but said nothing.

“At any rate,” she bounded to her feet and twirled around the cabin, “it feels absolutely delightful to wear these again.”

He grinned at her antics. “Before you get too involved in enjoying your bit of forbidden freedom, suppose we talk about this gold business, shall we? It seems to me Egypt is a mighty big place.”

Sabrina whirled to a stop and grabbed the table to keep her balance. The childish gesture was just what she needed to restore her excitement about the search for the gold, the adventure awaiting them.

“Oh, I doubt if it will be too difficult.” She breezed over to her portmanteau and kneeled before it. Flipping open the case, she dug beneath the layers of clothes. Triumphantly, she pulled out the letter and waved it before him. “You see, Matt, we have a map.”

Crossing to his side, she slapped the letter on the table. “Look at this. It’s all in here, every detail, every direction.”

He glanced at the paper before him and frowned. “It’s in French.”

“Of course it’s in French. It was written by one of the officers who hid the gold.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Can’t you read this? I thought your mother was French.”

“Of course I can read it,” he said loftily. “I’m just a little rusty, that’s all. Besides, I’ve always been able to get my point across without having to depend on writing it down.” He favored her with a wicked grin. “Especially in French. I’ve always found even the most innocent comment sounds so much more ... intimate when it’s spoken in French.”

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