The Pirate Takes A Bride (12 page)

She shivered just thinking about what Nick had said.
The woman is mine
. It was the second time he had made such a statement. When he’d said it as they rode away from Gretna Green, she took it to mean she was his responsibility. But now, away from all civilization, she felt it meant something very different.

She should have been offended and appalled at such sentiments. Instead, heat had rushed to her belly and her body had throbbed. She had not realized what a powerful man he was. He held the power of life and death on this ship. Every man here served him. She’d never thought of him in that light before. In London, it was his brother who held the title, and Nick who held all the charm. But here, on the open sea, Nick had more power than any man she’d ever known.

She had never been one of those ninnies who ran after every marquess and swooned when a duke was present. Regardless of title, a man was a man—but if that was true, why were her cheeks warm when she thought of Nick? Why did her knowledge of his new power make him suddenly more attractive?

She pushed away from the door and moved to stare out of the windows. Behind them lay open ocean and before them more of the same. She’d never felt more trapped than she did at this moment, and she wasn’t certain whether it was Nick or her own feelings that put her in the most danger.

By afternoon, she couldn’t stand another moment in the cabin. However, when she was finally allowed on deck to take the air, she kept her eyes down and refused to meet the gazes of any of the men. She didn’t look up at the topmast either. She didn’t want to see Mr. Johnson staring down at her with hatred or hear his call of “argh.” She feared the pirates all hated her now and saw their comrade’s punishment as her fault.

She did find Nick’s gaze. He nodded at her and went back to his spyglass. Like a silly goose, she felt a sudden warmth course through her at the knowledge she could still capture his attention.

At some point in the night, she turned in her bed and realized she was not alone. Nick was beside her. He lay on his side, careful not to touch her, but in the moonlit darkness, she could make out his form and his features. She wanted to curl up next to him and bury her face in his chest. She wanted him to hold her and tell her all would be well.

But there was so much from the past between them. Instead, they kept apart, not touching, even in sleep. When she awoke in the morning, he was gone.

The following week was much the same. Mr. Fellowes had assisted her in her search for employment, and gradually a growing pile of socks and shirts needing mending appeared. She’d never been passionate about needlework, but it kept her occupied lest she be tempted to conjure images of the captain.

That happened all too frequently of late. When she was on deck, she found herself seeking him out. Every glimpse of him made her heart flutter as though she were some green girl who’d never even seen the inside of Almack’s. But Ashley would defy even the most hardened courtesan not to sigh at the sight of Nicholas Martingale standing on the ship’s bow, booted feet braced apart and hands on his hips. His dark buckskins molded to muscled thighs, and his white shirt flattened against his chest by the force of the wind. He’d worn coats and cravats for a few days after Johnson’s punishment, but now she more often saw him in shirtsleeves, working right alongside his men. His black hair whipped about his bronze face, and his smile was quick and his teeth white.

And when he caught sight of her, when those blue eyes rested on her even for a moment, she felt as though they were the only two people on the ship and nothing else mattered. It was pure fantasy, of course. She forced herself to remember the way he’d treated her. She found if she conjured up the scene in the library at the Rundale’s ball, her racing heart would race with anger instead of lust.

She fought to hold on to that anger.

Almost a fortnight into the voyage, the winds failed them. She’d been lying alone in the berth in the great cabin, attempting to sleep, when she noticed the stillness. She heard the distant clanging of bells and counted five. She thought that meant it half ten or half eleven. She couldn’t remember which. She just knew it was before midnight.

She rose, dressed in her shift with her feet bare, and walked to the windows facing the stern. There was nothing to see in the dark stillness. She considered lighting a lamp and finishing some of the more delicate stitching her gown sorely needed. She’d been attempting to repair the damage done to it the last few weeks, but in rough seas she could not hold her hand still enough to do the minute stitches around the more delicate lace. If she had been a more accomplished seamstress, she would not have faltered. Once again, her mother had been right to tell her to spend more time refining her talents as a lady.

Before she could retrieve the lamp, the door to the great cabin swung open. Ashley jumped but swallowed the small scream in her throat. Since the incident with Johnson, she’d been on edge. But she recognized the form in the door immediately. She’d studied it often enough. It was Nick.

“My apologies for startling you,” he said, his voice deep and reaching out to almost touch her in the darkness. He moved past her then and quickly pulled the heavy curtains over the windows.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Now that the ship was at a virtual standstill, the cabin felt rather warm and stuffy.

“No lights and no sound,” he said. His tone did not brook dissent.

“Why? What’s happened?”

“Not now,” he said and was halfway out the door before she called, “Nick!”

He paused, turned, and said, low, “Not a sound. I’ll be back shortly. No more bells tonight.”

Ashley’s heart beat hard in her chest, and she sat on the edge of the berth, hugging her knees. She could not decide if her body’s reaction was from trepidation or desire. She decided to blame it on trepidation. If she refused to acknowledge the desire, perhaps she could will it away. She was not cold. In fact, the cabin was increasingly warm, but the posture gave her some measure of security. The captain was obviously concerned. What was worrying him now? Why had they stopped moving? Had they arrived at Isla de las Riquezas?

Finally, after what seemed hours, she heard footfalls in the companionway again. She tensed as the door opened, and Nick once again stepped inside. As he closed the door, she heard the creak of the ship as it floated on the water. “The wind has died, and we’re at a standstill,” he said quietly.

“Then we haven’t arrived at Isla de las Riquezas?”

“No, but we’re within a day. That’s why this weather is unfortunate.” He ran a hand through his hair, and for the first time she realized he was tense. She had not seen him tense yet, not even when the royal navy had been bearing down on them. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from rising and going to him.

“What’s unfortunate about the weather?” Now that she was in front of him, she wished she had stayed where she’d been. It was impossible not to breathe in his scent when she was so close to him. He smelled of the salt air and also a bit like rum. He was a head taller than she, and she tilted her head back to look up at him. His face was shadowed, but she did not need to see it to know its features. She’d memorized them from all of those hours on deck, pretending to be watching the ocean when she was really watching him.

She imagined his mouth was in a thin, tight line, and his blue eyes set in grim determination. “We’re also only a few days from Gibraltar. Everyone seeking the Mediterranean goes through Gibraltar—merchants, pirates, and our old friends the British navy.”

“If we’re at a standstill, everyone else must be as well.”

The hand raked through his hair again. “Yes, but when this fog clears, we might not be pleased to see the ships that have drifted into our line of sight. Not to mention, I’d rather not be seen or followed heading to Isla de las Riquezas. I’d hoped to anchor there tomorrow.”

“The other ships—is that why you ordered dark and silence?”

“Yes, even in this fog, sound carries, and I don’t want another ship spotting one of our lights and deciding to investigate when the wind picks up.”

Ashley shook her head. “I will be glad to put my feet on solid land again.”

“You’re a sailor’s wife now. The sea is your home.”

“You cannot mean that. You didn’t want to marry me any more than I wanted to marry you.”

“What’s done is done.” The finality in his voice caused a lump to form in her throat.

“That doesn’t mean we have to accept it. There is always annulment or—”

“Do not say it. You’re my wife.”

Ashley did not have to make any effort to find her anger this time. “But I don’t want to be your wife, and I don’t want to be stuck on a ship for the rest of my life.”

He placed a finger on her lips. “Shh. Sound carries.”

She shivered at his touch and stepped back, away from his touch.

“Trapped on a ship with me for life, a fate worse than death,” he said drily.

“Do not pretend I have offended you. You don’t want me here any more than I want to be here.”

His head tilted, as though considering what she’d said. “I don’t know. You’ve made the voyage much more…interesting. My men are falling over themselves to catch your eye. My officers are distracted, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before a rumor that having a female on board is bad luck.”

“I’ve tried to stay out of the way,” she said.

“Even if you didn’t have the face of an angel, do you think the men would easily forget a woman is on board?”

“The face of an angel?” she murmured not hearing anything he said after that. “Is that what you said?”

He let out a breath in something of a snort. “Do not pretend you don’t know how beautiful you are.”

“I didn’t realize you thought I was beautiful.”

“Beautiful, strong, impulsive.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. Suddenly, she couldn’t quite force air into her lungs. “Resourceful, clever, brave, alluring.”

“Alluring?” she whispered. Nick moved closer, and she felt his hand caress her arm. Heat of a different sort from that in the room penetrated where he touched, swirling through her until she felt almost dizzy.

“Bewitching,” he whispered, and his lips were so close to hers she knew even the tiniest movement would bring them together. He was charming her. She remembered this rogue from London. She shouldn’t allow herself to be charmed, but she could not seem to resist because he was more than the rogue now. He was the captain and the man who had protected her, who had claimed her. She wanted him to claim her again, to remind her what pleasure was. She wanted to forget that she was stranded on a cramped ship in this never-ending ocean and suffocating in the oppressive heat.

She closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. She felt as though a fire raged within her, but his lips were cool and inviting. He didn’t take her into his arms, as she’d expected. Instead he allowed her to explore his mouth with her tentative lips. She’d kissed him before. She’d kissed many men, but she felt suddenly shy, suddenly inexperienced.

She brushed his lips with hers once then twice then traced his upper lip with her tongue. When she moved to his lower lip, she nipped it gently and he moaned softly. Searing heat rushed through her, emboldening her, and she dipped her tongue inside his mouth. His tongue met hers, stroking her as his arms wrapped around her, and he finally pulled her against him.

She sighed, feeling his hard body against hers, and lifted her hands to fist in his hair, that lovely dark, dark hair she’d watched whipping in the breeze. He wore it in a short queue, and she released it, allowing the thong to drop to the floor as well. She was still leading the kiss, but she felt a subtle change in him. He was barely restraining himself. She was desperate to touch all of him before he took her, leaving her breathless and her mind too muddled with passion to think. She traced his cheek, his strong jaw, scraped her short nails down his neck until she reached the vee of his linen shirt.

“No cravat today?” she whispered.

“I think we both know I’m no gentleman.”

Oh, how she wanted him to prove it. She had been kissed one too many times by stiff, proper gentlemen. Her hand dipped into his shirt, and she felt the raw power of him. His heart slammed against her palm, and the muscles of his chest were tightly bunched.

“Do I make your heart beat like that?”

His mouth caressed her ear. “Always.” She felt his teeth and shivered as he nibbled her ear and then her neck. “You’ve chided me for our lack of conversation,” he whispered, “but this is not the time. My men have orders to be silent. Not to move, not to breathe until we launch the boats at first light.”

“Every sound carries when it’s this silent,” she murmured.

“Exactly. If I touch you, you must promise not cry out, not to scream your pleasure.”

She pulled back. “Ha! You certainly have a high opinion of your talents.” But she remembered the first time with him. She remembered the pleasure.

He drew her back against him and nuzzled her neck. “You’re no innocent, Ashley. I don’t have to be careful not to shock you, not to hurt you. In fact, I have plans for you.”

“Plans?” she breathed as his mouth moved lower, down the column of her neck to her collarbone. Her breasts felt heavy, and the pressure of his hands on her waist impossibly tempting.

“Before Johnson attacked you, I slept in a cot with the men just to keep myself from touching you, but it didn’t stop me from imagining all the wicked things I could do to you. All the ways to make you come.”

Oh, he was wicked indeed. No gentleman would use language like that. If she didn’t have a house full of brothers she might not even know what he meant. But she knew the word and the sensation. He’d shown her before.

Her hands tightened on his slim waist, where she clutched at him as his mouth dipped even lower, his tongue teasing the swells of her breasts where they rose over the low neckline of her shift. The garment was loose and easily removed and as his tongue teased her, his hands moved upward to cup her. One thumb slid over her hard, tender nipple, and she gasped.