the breath from her. “I don’t understand. After all we’ve shared... after...” She struggled to speak. “You still don’t trust me?”
He could not make himself face her. “The less you know, the better off you are,” he said tersely.
“But I thought... I thought you...”
He turned. “What?” he snapped.
She gazed up at him, looking perplexed, mystified.
Hurt.
He knew what she wanted to say. I thought you cared. The word was like a knife in his gut, and she hadn’t even said it aloud.
She couldn’t possibly understand. And he couldn’t make her understand. A man like him couldn’t care. Not about her, not about anyone. The crimes he had committed all those years ago had doomed him forever. Sentenced him to a life of secrecy.
A life alone.
For a few idiotic, reckless moments, he had forgotten that. Had allowed himself to entertain the idea of being a man like other men, with softness and tenderness in his life. The softness and tenderness that only a woman could offer. One special woman.
But there was no way to change what he was—a pirate with years of sin branded on his soul.
He had made his choice when he was barely more than a boy, with no thought for the future, no concern but vengeance. And never had he regretted it.
Until now.
“Nick,” she whispered, her eyes full of pain.
“Don’t,” he bit out. “Don’t ask questions you don’t really want answered, Samantha. And trust me,” he added darkly, “you don’t want that one answered.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, I can’t explain it to you.”
“You mean you won’t.”
He turned away. How the hell had this gotten so complicated? Once, he had intended to take his pleasure of her and take his leave. Then he had thought to merely initiate her into the pleasures of her passion and again simply walk away.
But she had made mincemeat of all his intentions. This lady possessed the most unfathomable ability to befuddle his mind and blast his motives to dust. He couldn’t simply shrug her off as he had every other female who had shared his bed.
But he had to walk away from her. He had to. He couldn’t take her with him. Couldn’t tell her the truth. It would be better for them both to send her away to Venice, to her dreams.
He felt another blade in his gut, twisting this time. Frustrated, he fell back on a phrase that had served him well in the past. “I never offered you any promises.”
“I never asked for any.”
Swearing, he faced her again. “Then what’s the problem? I thought we both knew what was happening. What we shared was”—he forced the word out, his voice sharp as a knife edge—“pleasure, nothing more.”
She flinched as if he had slapped her.
And he wished that the darkness of Cannock Chase would close in and swallow him whole.
“Yes, of course.” Her voice became cool and even, as if she were making a great effort to control it. “Pleasure and nothing more.”
She looked so small and fragile, swamped by his shirt, the cuffs engulfing her hands. It made his heart ache just to look at her. “Then what is it you want from me?” he asked.
“The truth.”
He shook his head, looked away.
The truth that she wanted would be the end of everything. The truth—his past, his real name and identity—would turn the hurt in her eyes to shock, horror.
And hatred.
Because Nicholas Brogan, scourge of the Atlantic, terror of the Caribbean, despised by every law-abiding, God-loving Englishman, was exactly the sort of man that a good, sweet woman like Samantha Delafield would utterly loathe.
And it would do no good to try and explain that his infamous reputation had far exceeded his actual deeds.
Because his actual deeds were more than enough to merit her hatred.
And if he told her even a hint of the truth, he would have to spend the rest of his life wondering whether she had mentioned his name to someone else. To anyone else.
He already had one blackmailer to worry about. He didn’t want to live the rest of his days looking over his shoulder for a few dozen more.
His life was going to be bleak enough as it was.
When he looked at her again, the force of that fact hit him like a physical blow. On their first night in gaol, he had suspected that this lady would have some part to play in the divine retribution God had in store for him—and now he knew that was true.
She had been a brief taste of heaven. Of genuine happiness.