Ocean's Ride

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Part 3

  Part 4

  Part 5

  Part 6

  Part 7

  Part 8

  Part 9

  Part 10

  Part 11

  Part 12

  Part 13

  Part 14

  Part 15

  Part 16

  Part 17

  Part 18

  Part 19

  Part 20

  Part 21

  Part 22

  Author's Note

  Part 1

  Part 2

  Updates

  About the Author

  Ocean's Ride

  Demelza Carlton

  Book 4 in the Turbulence and Triumph series

  This one's for John, in thanks for inspiring the series title with a t-shirt.

  Even mermaids can't resist a Triumph.

  Copyright © 2015 Demelza Carlton

  Lost Plot Press

  All rights reserved.

  One

  "Your tea is ready, Tuan."

  I blinked and the shadowy figure in the doorway departed, the sound of her footsteps fading.

  William's arm tightened around my breasts as he pressed harder into my back. "Mmm," he sighed. "If only I didn't have to work today, I could stay in bed with you all day, lass."

  Maybe this was the heaven Merry's church priest had spoken about. The sheer joy of waking up beside the man I loved and knowing how much he loved me in return. Maybe not, too, for simply lying beside him reminded me of what we'd done last night and what I ardently desired to do again.

  "It's not day yet," I responded. "The sun hasn't risen, so it's still our wedding night."

  He chuckled and the bed creaked as he sat up. "My day starts before dawn, lass. I need to find out what news the wireless station received while we were busy in bed."

  "We're still busy in bed," I insisted, reaching for him.

  William caught my hand in his and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. "A good wife obeys her husband and a good husband earns his keep so he can support a lovely wife like you. Tonight, lass." He rose.

  A good wife. A good, human wife. How could I ever manage to be that? I'd spent my childhood learning to lead mermaids and seduce humans. That made me a good lover, certainly, but a good wife? I'd never spent more than a night with the man I loved. Giuseppe had died the next day and William...William had... "The last time we shared a bed, you rejected me in the light of dawn, William. That night the ship sank and it was too late. I'm afraid..." I heard the weakness in my voice and stopped speaking. The ocean would not take him from me again.

  William gathered me in his arms. "If I'd known what would happen, I'd never have left. I was angry at myself for giving in to my desires, for taking advantage of a girl I'd sworn to protect. I thought I was protecting you by leaving. You don't know how sorry I am."

  I pulled him onto the bed beside me and settled firmly in his lap. "Then make amends, William. Now."

  He stroked my hair. "If I can, I will. What can I give you, lass? My heartfelt apologies, a promise to never take advantage of you again, a vow to protect you always? I'd give you anything for you to forgive me for what I did to you that night."

  I laughed gently. "It's not the night I regret, but the morning. All I want from you is what I wanted then."

  "Name it, lass, and it's yours."

  I shifted in his lap so I straddled him as I had his Triumph last night. Ah, but he was hotter and harder than the leather saddle as he slid smoothly inside me. "I want to take you for another ride, William," I sighed, tilting my hips to take him in deeper.

  Two

  I sponged perspiration from my skin with the tepid water in the washbasin, wishing I could go for a swim instead, until William's reflection in the mirror diverted my attention. He kissed my damp neck, smiled at me and whispered that he'd be back for breakfast as soon as he could.

  "You'd better get dressed first, though," he called cheerfully over his shoulder as he left.

  Sighing, I rummaged through my trunk for a light summer dress. I left off my stockings and shoes, choosing to pad barefoot along the floorboards to the kitchen. Idly, I wondered what sort of jam they had for my toast in a tropical climate like this one.

  The kitchen didn't smell of yeast, like Merry's had on baking days, but that didn't deter me. William's cook had made tea for him, so perhaps yesterday had been for baking and the bread was stored somewhere. All I had to do was find it...

  A large pan stood on the stove, and curiosity drove me to lift the lid. I almost squealed in delight at the sight of nasi goreng kampung, a fried rice dish I hadn't seen or smelled since I left Cocos. I hunted through the cupboards for a bowl and a spoon. The first piled-high spoonful set me to coughing, as I'd grown unused to the strong spices while living with Merry and her mild cooking, but the flavour of home was irresistible. I dug my spoon in again.

  "Nooo, Mem, nooooo!" a woman's voice shouted.

  Shocked, I found myself on one side of a tug of war for my bowl of rice. One of the serving women from last night had grabbed it almost out of my hands and it was all I could do to keep my breakfast from tipping out.

  "Men's dinner. Not for you!" she scolded, slamming the lid down on the pan's contents.

  I released my grip on the bowl, finally understanding. "You mean this is not for William and I? I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Here, let me help you make some more." I hurried to the cupboard where I'd found the uncooked rice earlier. I had no idea how to cook the stuff, but I'd learned from Merry that most cooking was along the same lines – follow the standard instructions and then flavour to taste. I grabbed a mixing bowl and dropped to my knees.

  "No, Mem." She slammed the cupboard door, narrowly missing my fingers. "Breakfast at eight. Tuan's orders." She waved her hand at the basket of eggs on the table. "Not your place, Mem. Your tea is in the dining room."

  No, not my place, I reflected and retreated to the dining room. The taste of chili still burned my tongue, so I poured a cup of tea from the tea service on the sideboard. Steam from the muddy brew wafted up and I knew I couldn't bear to drink it. I searched the room for an alternative, but there wasn't even a jug of water this morning.

  William and his muddy, mine tea that no sane person would drink, I sighed, taking my cup back to the kitchen. I set it carefully on the counter and announced, "This is not my tea. This is for William."

  She stared at the cup, then me in consternation. "I will make more, Mem."

  "Maria. My name is Maria. Please, what is your name?" I asked.

  "Cook. I am Cook."

  I shook my head. "Not your job. Your name. It feels so impersonal to call you by anything else."

  "Impersonal is good. Name is for family. In this house, I am Cook." She nodded at the other woman I recognised from last night. Her hair was still pulled into a tight bun. "This is Amah. She will take care of your children." She eyed my midsection. "Give Tuan strong sons."

  Sons? I wanted to laugh. Boys were so rare among our kind that I'd never known one to bear a son. Human fathers couldn't sire sons with the people of the ocean's gift. No, the father had to be one of our own kind – a dragon, as my grandfather had been. But if bearing children was what good human wives did, then I could at least give him daughters. Perhaps humans were not so different to my kind.

  Cook – if indeed she insisted that I call her that – seized a tin I recognised as the English style tea that William and Merry drank. Surely there was something better in the house. Chinese women didn't drink the foul English brew.

  "Do you have any other tea?" I asked. "That stuff tastes horrible. In Cocos, and in Austra
lia, I didn't drink this."

  Cook stared at me again. "Cocos? You are a Ross?"

  She knew Cocos, for she'd named the family that ruled the islands. I needed to tread carefully. "No. My father was Wood-Jones. A cable man." A cable man who'd married one of the Ross girls after I was born, I thought but didn't say.

  She nodded slowly. "My brother's family lives on Cocos. Working hard for your family, as I do for Tuan here. I will cook Malay food for you, Mem, if you wish. But Tuan...not for Tuan. He orders food from his faraway home."

  I managed a smile. I'd forgotten William's inexplicable taste for flavourless food. "What I want is tea. Real tea without milk. Where is the tea that you drink?"

  Cook smiled. "I will have Amah bring you some in the dining room. Tuan will have eggs and toast for breakfast. I will...prepare the same for you?" Her eyes strayed to the rice pan.

  "Today, yes," I responded. "I don't want to steal someone else's dinner. But tomorrow...can you make more nasi goreng? Living in Australia, I've missed it."

  Cook nodded. "Would you like Cocos eggs, or English ones?" she asked suddenly.

  "Cocos."

  "Yes, Mem." She grinned. "Eggs good for baby."

  A baby? If I bore William a child, I'd be free of my banishment, allowed to command my own destiny. Mother would leave me alone. And it meant more time in bed with William, attempting to fall pregnant.

  "Give William an extra egg, then." I nodded at the basket. "He'll need his strength if he's to give me a child."

  Amah shot a questioning look at Cook, who translated my words into a language I didn't understand, but the other women did.

  Amah smiled broadly and nodded.

  Wonderful. We were all in agreement. If all I had to do to be a good wife was convince William that we should make love at every available moment, I could manage. After all, I'd managed to pass for human in Fremantle with no worries.

  But somehow, I suspected it wouldn't be as easy as it seemed.

  Three

  I inhaled the steam from my third cup of floral-scented tea, recognising the fragrance of jasmine from Merry's garden. This wasn't my preferred Japanese green tea, but it came in a close second as my favourite drink.

  "Thank you, Amah."

  I opened my eyes to see William striding into the room. Amah scurried away with his coat and hat. William poured a cup of tea and added a liberal quantity of milk before he sat in the cane chair beside me.

  "Kiss me, Maria, or I'll swear you're still a ghost."

  I'd barely set my cup down before he enveloped me in his arms, starting a passionate kiss that I didn't want to end. He pulled me from my seat and I climbed willingly into his lap, our lips not parting for an instant. His hand slipped inside my dress and cupped my breast, making me want to take the damn dress off and everything else, too, just to feel his skin against mine again. "William, oh William..."

  Abruptly, his hands weren't touching me any more and he cleared his throat. To my surprise, he was blushing.

  "What? Why did you stop?" I demanded. It certainly wasn't because he didn't want me – I could feel his arousal under me.

  "Thank you, Cook," he said, not even looking at me as she set his boiled eggs and toast on the table. The smell of spices and soy drew my attention to the other place setting, now occupied by a saucy-looking omelette that smelled divine.

  She smothered a smile and left, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

  William gave me a gentle push. "We're the authority here. You need to behave properly. You can't just sit in my lap like one of the women from the White House. What will the servants think of you?"

  I rose and smoothed my dress before settling into my own chair once more. "They think I'm your newly-wed wife, madly in love with you and eager to have a baby. Not as eager as those two are to see me pregnant, though." I nodded in the direction of the kitchen. "When I tried to make my own breakfast earlier, your cook almost tried to drag me out of the kitchen. It's not like I was going to set the place on fire. I learned to cook a passable meal during my time in Fremantle. Though nothing as good as this." I cut a slice of my omelette and popped it into my mouth. "Ooh, little prawns! She really did give me Cocos eggs."

  "What in heaven's name are you eating?"

  I laughed. "Breakfast, William. The way they make eggs at Cocos. You can try some, if you like." I held out my fork and he eyed it suspiciously. "I trusted you enough to let you feed me chocolate. At least you know this is food."

  He relented and took a tiny bite. I watched the play of expressions across his face. First surprise, then deep concentration, followed by puzzlement before he finally swallowed. "It's...tolerable, I suppose. Stronger flavours than I'm used to. And the shrimp are such an odd combination with egg. Not something I'd customarily have for breakfast." He swallowed a mouthful of tea. "Is this the sort of thing you ate for breakfast in Australia?"

  "No. Merry made this delicious mulberry jam and I'd make toast in the wood stove in the mornings, just so I could have some of her jam. I had the timing just right so that I could make my toast and eat it in the time it took for the kettle to boil for tea before I went to work..." I drifted into silence as I saw the hurt tightening William's eyes. "I would have asked you to tea with me in Fremantle if you'd acknowledged me there. Instead, I had to follow you here. Maybe I could write her a letter and have the next carrier boat bring it to Fremantle for me. Perhaps she'd be willing to send us some jam as a wedding gift. She's the one who urged me to follow my heart, even if it meant traversing the whole ocean to find you."

  William opened his mouth to respond. He no longer had the hardness he'd armoured himself in only moments before – this was the man I'd loved on the Trevessa, who'd spilled his heart to me in the Grotto.

  "More tea, Mem?"

  I glanced up at Amah and nodded, watching her pour the jasmine tea into my cup before thanking her. No tin mugs here – I had a fine china cup and saucer, like Merry had used back in Fremantle. I lifted the cup to my lips and regarded William over the rim. In my moment of distraction, his armour had returned, more prickly and impenetrable than ever. Inwardly, I sighed.

  When Amah left, William seemed too intent on eating his own breakfast to talk about mine any more.

  I laid a hand on his arm. "William, I lived as a respectable widow in Fremantle for seven years. I know how a woman should behave in your world. But I was born in a remote colonial outpost much like this one and you know that. In a population this small, those in authority set the tone for behaviour. And I am no one's subordinate."

  "Lass, this isn't the tiny community at Cocos, or even the rough town of Fremantle. Truth be told, it's a cut above what I was used to at home in Scotland, too. We're the upper class here and we have to behave accordingly. It's as alien to anything you're used to as English was to you on the day we met. You're going to have to forget the life you knew and learn a whole new set of rules, all over again. Think back to when we met. What happened to the frightened girl on the Trevessa?"

  I met his searching look squarely. "She took a moment to shake herself and remember who she was, and what she wanted. That was you, William. And she was willing to do whatever it took to win and keep you. Then and now. I knew I wanted you, and no shark or deranged madman or shipwreck would take you from me, not while either of us draws breath." I inhaled deeply, following his gaze to my swelling breast. "I will do whatever I must to stay at your side here. To be...to be a proper wife to you. How about you show me around the island a little today while you're working? Something like the tour of the Trevessa you took me on. And I'll show you I do know the proper behaviour even for a place like this."

  "And if you don't?" William looked worried.

  I grinned. "Well, I understand there's plenty of work at the White House for women who know how to please a man. I figure if I can please the man they call Grumpy McGregor, I shouldn't have much trouble at all."

  His jaw dropped and he looked horrified. So much for my attempt at humour. "I'd sooner
confine you to the house than that. If you can't carry yourself as an upper class wife here on the island, I'll have to keep you here until the next ship docks, then send you back to Fremantle."

  Locked up and then banished, far from William? Not on my life. "It's a madman indeed who tries to cage a dragon against her will, even if the dragon is his wife." I rose and touched my lips to his. "Don't worry, William. I know to wear a hat and gloves in public. Not to mention shoes. I'll be the soul of propriety, I promise." And human, or as close as I could be. The way to be a good wife was not to be a dragon at all.

  Four

  When I'd finished my breakfast, I excused myself to go find some shoes. After a quick glance in the mirror, I sighed and resigned myself to a slightly longer time getting ready. I pinned my hair up and secured my hat with no less than four hat-pins. I grabbed my gloves and a pair of suitable shoes, biting my lip as I considered the stockings I'd avoided before breakfast. I rejected them again, clunking shut the lid of my trunk before I could change my mind.

  I stared at my reflection, knowing it would receive Merry's nod of approval if she could see me now. Me, a demure housewife who drank her tea out of a cup and saucer. Tea made for her by a servant, as though I lacked the ability to make my own breakfast. Perhaps this was something William couldn't do, I reflected. After all, I'd known him on a ship, where our meals were prepared by a cook and stewards. I'd rarely seen men preparing food in Fremantle – always, it was the womenfolk who did it. Now he had me, I could change things. Cook and Amah could go and help some other deserving bachelor, leaving William and the kitchen to me. Perhaps he'd be more comfortable with only the two of us in the house and he wouldn't reject me for fear of what other people might think. Was desiring one's wife a weakness?

  "You look beautiful," William said over the clop of my shoes as I descended from the veranda. He gave a nod and an Indian man took off on his Triumph, his tightly wound turban not budging at all as he opened up the throttle and accelerated.