One Night to Remember Read online

  She gasped as she rebounded off his great wall of a chest, then tried to collect herself by curtseying as she continued down the hall. She didn’t miss the scent flowing off him—rich and spicy like cigars and fine wine. His shoes were polished leather. Handmade in Italy. And his slacks needed a hem.

  Had to be first class. Maybe she could pick his pocket on her way to the stairs.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss,” he said, following after her. “I should have been more careful.”

  “It was my fault.” Elizabeth curtseyed deeper and tried to bolt from this man a second time.

  He gently grabbed her by the elbow, applying enough pressure to assure Elizabeth that she wouldn’t be going anywhere until he released her. Heat sizzled beneath his fingers, searing the skin through her gloves.

  “Are you lost, Miss…” he waited for Elizabeth to fill the silence, but she was too confused by the magnetism of his touch to acknowledge him right away.

  “Scott.” She glanced over her shoulder. The stairs were there. Right there.

  “Allow me to help you find your appropriate deck, Miss Scott.” His voice kicked up an octave.

  With a sigh, Elizabeth turned around and finally drank in the details of the gentleman’s face. The warmth in his eyes nearly took her breath away. They were deep chocolate brown, almond shaped with an unyielding glare. His hair was short, swept to the side, framing a set of razor sharp cheekbones. His jaw was square and hard set, providing the perfect platform for a wide, supple mouth.

  “I can find my own way, but thank you.” She cleared her throat and tried to pull away. Under different circumstances, maybe they could’ve been a little something. He was good looking enough, in a chivalrous, Prince Charming sort of way.

  As he tugged her close, shivers bloomed across her skin. He held her gaze. “It was not a request. I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me.”

  Air ripped from Elizabeth’s lungs. She’d met forward gentlemen before. Hell, she’d taken forward gentlemen to bed before. But this man didn’t seem to fit that bill. From the look in his eye in the dining hall, Elizabeth thought he’d looked offended and downright prudish. Only…prudish men did not make such advances.

  “I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth put a hand over her heart, feigning her own offense. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  As a couple passed behind them, they squeezed together against the corridor wall. When their bodies touched, something rippled through the air between them. Like an electric current zapped through her body, the blood in Elizabeth’s veins sped and her cheeks flushed.

  The gentleman felt it too. The dark of his pupils widened. Desire, raw and hot, flamed in their depths. Elizabeth was hypnotized. Too captured to move.

  After the couple passed by, the gentleman didn’t grant Elizabeth more room. He stayed pressed against her, crowded into the right half of the corridor. For the first time in her life, she didn’t want space. Didn’t want to be alone to work things out by herself.

  Despite herself, she couldn’t resist the allure of this man. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another.

  “I’m Thomas McGuire,” he whispered, feathering chills down her legs. “And I’m second to the Master at Arms.”

  Elizabeth’s heart gave a ratchet. He was military. A cop. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m afraid not.” He reached behind her back, bending close enough for their lips to touch with the smallest flinch. Her stomach gave a little flutter…until he snatched both of her wrists into his steely grip. “Miss Elizabeth Scott…you’re under arrest.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “For the last time,” Elizabeth said, her fingers drumming against the table in Thomas’s stateroom on C Deck. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a first class passenger. A lady.”

  Oh, she played the part of a lady all right. Her scarlet dress was cut low, cinched at the waist and ruffled to the floor. Her jewels sparkled beneath the yellow cabin lights. And the feather in her hair was a nice, delicate touch that added a flare of femininity.

  But Miss Scott was more than a lady. She was a master manipulator.

  She’d begged to be released each step of the way back to C Deck. She’d told the same innocent story of mistaken identity for the last hour. Now the begging had stopped and she was pleading to his logic: true ladies didn’t steal from their own kind.

  Lucky for poor Lady Grace and her husband’s gambling fund, Thomas wasn’t falling for Miss Scott’s games. No matter what he thought he saw down in steerage—had she really given the money in Lady Grace’s clutch to a child or were his eyes playing tricks on him?—he knew what he saw in that dining room.

  Miss Scott was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  “You are a first class passenger. And you are a lady.” Thomas removed his coat and draped it over the back of the chair facing Miss Scott. “But you are also a thief. A beautifully dressed, well-spoken, thief.”

  He loosened his tie, but it did not help his lungs suck in more air. Since Miss Scott had stepped into his stateroom, the air had grown heavy with some sort of tension. It was thick, sticky, barely sliding down his throat.

  “How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” she said, her green eyes widening in feigned shock. “This is absurd. I own my own clothing company in the states. I’m sailing the finest ship and I daresay my stateroom is larger than this one. I may even have more money than Old Bitty Grace. There’s absolutely no reason for me to steal from her. I demand to be released.” She held up her shackled wrists that he’d tied in front of her.

  Thomas smiled. “I said nothing about stealing from Lady Grace. Only that you were a thief. You added that confession on your own.”

  “I—I did not. Earlier, you said…” Pausing, her rose-glossed lips pressed into a thin line. “I merely—oh, you fool.” She sighed and tapped her fingers against her lap. “I did not mean anyone harm.”

  She began to glisten under pressure, her neck and cheeks glowing with unease. It was an oddly erotic sight. Thoughts of Miss Scott’s silky smooth skin glistening as a result of their love-making instead of her nerves, made Thomas yearn to release her and then swiftly seduce her.

  But duty came first. And Thomas’s duty called for him to report her ill behavior to the Master at Arms.

  “You may not have meant anyone harm, but I doubt Lady Grace or The White Star Line would view your intentions as well and innocent. You stole silver from this ship and money from her.”

  “I gave to a family who needed it.”

  “That does not negate the crime.”

  Her thin eyebrows rose smoke-stack high. “It should.”

  Thomas walked around the table separating them and faced Miss Scott. Her green eyes shone like emeralds and her eyelashes were so luxuriously long that when she blinked, they nearly batted her cheekbones. Despite his initial impression of her character, Thomas couldn’t help but think the woman was being honest. She truly believed stealing to be a good deed.

  “Miss Scott, facts are facts. You stole from Lady Grace. You stole from The White Star Line. You will have to face the punishment for that crime when we land in New York.”

  Her lips twisted. Thomas tried not to think about how kissable they were. How plump and soft they’d be working against his.

  “Mr. McGuire,” she whispered, leaning forward. He struggled to keep his eyes off the full mound of her breasts and on her eyes, where his gaze belonged. “Are you really going to arrest me for stealing from a woman who has more money than she knows what to do with and giving to a family that can barely afford food to fill their bellies?”

  “That’s up to the Master at Arms to decide.”

  “And where is he?” She scanned the well-lit corners of the room, to the bed lining the far wall, the sink and hutch near the door, the dresser to her right. “We’ve been here an hour and he’s not yet arrived or sent word that he’ll be late.”

  “I haven’t yet alerted him that there’s been a theft.” Thomas got the fee
ling he shouldn’t be telling her this. He shouldn’t reveal his doubt and his hesitation to turn her in. He should remain stoic and strong and keep those cuffs on her wrists come hell or high water. “There’s something I need to know. Something that’s been on my mind since I saw you swipe that fork off the table in the dining hall.”

  As Miss Scott sat back in her chair, strands of golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. Thomas had the gut-clench reaction to reach out and run his fingers through them.

  “Go ahead,” she said, eyeing him expectantly.

  For a second Thomas thought she could read his mind. But, as all fantasies went, they were cut short. He’d had a question for her, hadn’t he? How did he expect to interrogate fully when he was so distracted by her radiant beauty?

  “Why?” he blurted. “Why put your own freedom at jeopardy to help those less fortunate?”

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  He went palms down on the table. “There are a million reasons. If you are as well off as you say you are, you could have any gentleman you wanted. You could marry well, bear children, promote your fortune and build a legacy to be proud of. Dedicating your life to charity is honorable. Spending your life behind bars is foolish.”

  “But you see, it is my life to spend how I choose.”

  Thomas didn’t see. Not one bit. Miss Scott couldn’t have been more than twenty five years old. How could a woman as stunning as she, with her whole life ahead of her, risk it all for a measly place setting and a handful of bills?

  As silence stretched between them, Thomas felt a low throb in his gut. One that warned he was digging too deep. Although he wouldn’t admit it aloud, least of all to Miss Scott, there was honor behind her words and nobility behind her thievery.

  How had his view of her changed so quickly?

  “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?” she said quietly.

  He stood upright and dropped his gaze to the floor. It was as cold and hard as his heart. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Then what are you planning to do with me?”

  When his gaze met hers, he caught sight of something more. A glimmer in her eyes. A playfulness that wasn’t there before.

  “I told you I haven’t decided yet.” Thomas strode to the basin that was nestled into a mahogany hutch behind him. He poured water onto his hands patted his cheeks. Damn, it was hot in here. Stifling even.

  He didn’t hear Miss Scott approach. But he felt her fingers traipse up his back. “That’s not what I meant.”

  He met her eyes in the oval mirror above the sink. Her gaze was dark with desire, all traces of playfulness gone.

  “If you think teasing me like this will get you out of those cuffs you are sorely mistaken.”

  She nudged him in the shoulder with her bound wrists, spinning him around to face her. “If you think I’m teasing you to be released from these cuffs,” she said, “then you do not think me a lady at all. I have simply seen something I want…is it wrong of me to go after it?”

  Bloody hell.

  Thomas swallowed hard and leaned back against the hutch. His views toward Miss Scott may have changed, but he still had a job to do. A task to see to completion. The Master at Arms would have to be notified of the theft. Lady Grace would surely have reported her purse missing by now…how would he explain having the clutch in his possession with the money missing?

  “How about this,” Miss Scott said, biting her bottom lip in the most playfully erotic way. “Let us pretend I am a lady—an upstanding citizen from Boston—sailing first class on the Titanic. And let us say you work on this fine ship. Should we have met in the corridor under different circumstances, face to face, eye to eye, would you have given me your hand and introduced yourself?”

  “Aye.” Little did Miss Scott know, Thomas had fully intended to introduce himself after dinner. Had Thomas been at liberty to escort first class ladies on deck, he would have asked her to accompany him on a walk around the promenade. “How could I have let you pass me by?”

  “If I had smiled and said that you were the most handsome man I’d seen in all my days, what would you have done?”

  His heart pounded hard, thumping through his ears. “Miss Scott, I hardly think—”

  “Elizabeth,” she corrected. “If you were bold, you’d call me Elizabeth.”

  “If I were bold, yes.” A war raged in Thomas’s middle. He wanted to dive into her mouth and ghost his hands over her body. He wanted to sink into her, and take what she was offering. But he was bound by duty. He was a seaman responsible to the shipping company. Excuse after excuse assailed his mind. What a coward he was. “If I was bold, Miss Elizabeth, there are a lot of things I’d be doing.”

  “Well then…” She licked her lips, settling the pink tip of her tongue in the corner. “Let us pretend that you are bold and I am more than taken by you. Let us pretend that we are secluded within the four walls of this stateroom and whatever happens within these walls stays here.” She paused and Thomas could’ve sworn her breath hitched. “What would you do to me then?”

  His control snapped clean like a twig. “This.”

  He tunneled his fingers through her hair, caught the back of her neck, and dragged her lips to his. She moaned into his mouth, her lips going pliant as he tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss. Her tongue brushed along his, tasting, teasing. The expertise of her mouth lured him in. Invited him deeper. Tied his insides into one big knot.

  She whimpered as she leaned against him, giving him all her weight. And as her teeth hooked his bottom lip, Thomas’s stomach dropped to his boots. Miss Scott—Elizabeth—knew exactly what she wanted and went after it.

  She was bold, determined, and knew exactly how to seduce a man who knew what he wanted but didn’t yet have the courage to take it.

  As Elizabeth masterfully swirled her tongue along his, Thomas tasted hints of vanilla and smoky wine. He feasted on her mouth, matching her stroke for stroke. She tasted like wild abandon. Like sailing turbulent seas with nothing but a prayer and a broken compass. She was golden opportunity wrapped with a shiny red bow of promise.

  When he boarded the ship in Southampton, he was ready to fulfill his duty. He was not ready for the likes of Miss Elizabeth Scott.

  Pulling back, he said, “Let me release you,” and looked to her bound wrists. The last thing Thomas wanted was for Elizabeth to feel like she was a prisoner in his bed. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do.

  “No, I think not.” Elizabeth licked a slow line across the crease of his lips. “But you’d be wise to lock that door.”

  He’d completely forgotten! He shared his stateroom with two other seamen. If they came barging in at the wrong moment, this fling—or whatever it was—could land him in the brig. Lucky for him, they were on duty until eleven thirty. Although Thomas had worked his shift earlier in the afternoon, he was scheduled to relieve their position on the bridge. If he didn’t get there in time, they’d know something was up…

  He checked his watch. Ten twenty.

  Thomas’s insides balled into a fist when he realized he wouldn’t be able to take his time. They’d have to hurry a bit so she wouldn’t be discovered leaving the stateroom.

  Is that what he’d do when they were finished? Thomas wondered. Let her walk out? Would he really let her go free, knowing full well that she’d steal again given the chance?

  He dared say he would…with or without the encounter they were about to have.

  By the time he’d locked the door, Elizabeth was standing near the rich oak bed, her hands crossed in front of her. Glowing gold hair fanned across her shoulders in a naturally sexy, disheveled way and her cheeks had taken on a rosy blush. Her lips were flushed and a bit swollen and if Thomas wasn’t mistaken, curving a bit at the corners.

  From one look, one glimpse of Elizabeth standing beside his bed, Thomas wondered how he’d ever look at another woman the same. She would spoil him for all others, he was sure. This woman with the hands of a
thief, a heart of gold, and the body of a goddess…

  Though he’d only lived a short thirty years on this earth, Thomas was certain there was no other woman who could match Elizabeth’s beauty, inside or out.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of Thomas McGuire or the rumblings inside her when they touched.

  Before boarding the Titanic, Elizabeth had lived her life as a bit of a daredevil, taking on adventures others thought too risky. She’d been searching for something worth fighting for. Something that would boil the blood in her veins and rile up her defenses. Since stepping foot on board, she’d stolen from a handful of first class passengers and thought not much of it.

  Never—not once—had a single spark of exhilaration ever fired in her middle. Not like this.

  From one smoldering touch, Thomas sent heat flashing to Elizabeth’s center and flurries of excitement to her core. When his lips pressed against hers, she felt…alive. More so than she ever had before.

  “What now?” he asked, once he’d turned from the door. His face was pale, nearly matching the whiteness of his dress shirt. He looked anxious, but it suited him well. His square jaw was clenched, ticking by his temple. And his lips were pressed tight.

  He was a challenge. A tightly wound ball of nerves that Elizabeth couldn’t wait to unravel.

  “Now you kiss me,” she said, and held her breath.

  He covered the length of the room quickly, his strong hands cupping her neck as he pulled her against him. She arched back, letting the pleasure of his kiss overtake her.

  Beneath the prim and proper suit, hidden under layers of stifling responsibility, was a man that made Elizabeth’s heart beat fast. She could feel power surging beneath the surface of his rigid persona.

  If only she could unleash it…

  He kissed her hard and urgent, sealing them together from mouth to chest to hip. Flickers of heat licked through her body as he held her firm and drew her close. His tongue dove deep in her mouth, weakening her knees and clouding her mind. She kissed him back, hungry to fuel the fire he’d started in her middle.