by Tamara Gill
His imagination had nothing on what Arabella looked like, naked, dripping with water and smelling of lavender. She squealed and pulled the small drying towel about her, but it didn’t matter. The image of her long legs, perfectly sculptured waist and breasts that would fit his hands nicely burned permanently into his mind.
“What do you think you’re doing? Get out.”
A blush stole up her neck making her cheeks very pink. “You were taking so long. I thought you may have fallen asleep and drowned.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child. Don’t be absurd.”
“I can see that,” he stated, allowing his gaze to slide over her again. His jaw clenched. Shutting the door behind him, he leaned against the wood. Hoped that in some minuscule way it would keep him from striding over to her and kissing her senseless.
Her eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be staring at me like that and you shouldn’t be in this room. You need to leave so I can dress.”
Stephen grunted. He supposed he should do everything she asked, but he could not. “If I do as you ask I want a favor in return.”
“What sort of favor?” She stepped back, wariness settling in her eyes, but Stephen could also see curiosity mingled within her dark green orbs.
“Come here.” His command surprisingly worked. Each step she took swayed her hips in a silent seduction. As she stood before him, he ran his gaze over her delicate features. She was exquisite and not someone who should be wasted on Lord Montague. That man couldn’t appreciate the woman’s form if she was laid out before him on a salver.
He ran a finger down her arm and tiny goosebumps rose on her skin. “Have you ever been kissed?”
She didn’t reply, only shook her head.
“Then let me remedy that immediately.” Stephen leaned down, cupped her jaw and claimed her lips. Kissed her with all the pent up passion, desire, and respect he could summon.
Her lips were soft and he couldn’t help but notice untutored. He supped from them, beckoned her to copy, to follow his lead. And just as quick as her wit, Arabella kissed him back. He groaned as her fingers spiked into his hair, pulling him close. Fire coursed through his blood and he walked her backwards before pushing her up against the door.
Her mouth opened on a whimper and without thought, he took advantage and deepened the embrace. She tasted of wine and smelt of flowers. An intoxicating mix if ever there was one. The glide of their mouths, wet and wanton made him burn. With a will of their own, his hands ventured from her jaw to travel down her waist.
Arabella wrapped her arms about his neck and took control of the kiss. For a moment, Stephen lost all thought as her towel slipped to the floor. He grappled with the fact she was naked in his arms, and seemingly oblivious to what had happened to her only piece of modesty. For a woman who was new to the art of kissing, she was doing a wonderful job.
Her breasts pushed against his chest, her nipples hard little beads that begged to be kissed. There was no doubt where this kiss was leading, and Stephen wanted to conclude this little interlude with his cock buried deep in her willing core. He clasped the perfect mounds of her ass and the action shocked the little minx to her senses. Clever lass. Had she kept kissing him the way she was he would’ve seen just how far she would’ve taken the interlude.
She squeaked, her eyes darting down to her naked form before she pushed at his chest. With reluctance, he pulled back, giving her the space she wanted. Her emerald eyes sparkled with desire and now unfortunately, loathing. His gut clenched. Touché, Arabella for he too wanted her more than he’d wanted any other woman before, and yet his loathing was not the same as hers.
He loathed the fact she was the daughter of a man who had wronged him. Loathed that his grandfather, his excess in the gambling hells had made it impossible for Stephen to court her as an equal, as it should have been.
“Excuse me.” She walked over to his cupboard and pulled out some clothes. Without a flicker of embarrassment, she dressed before him. Stephen stood rooted on the spot, his mouth gaped and his body ached with longing and denial. Of all things holy he wanted her.
He also knew when to stay away. She walked out and slammed the door behind her. She was angry with him and with herself, he could guess. He ran his hands through his hair. He shouldn’t have kissed her. She wasn’t here to become his chère-amie no matter how much he wanted the fact.
Needing to distract himself, he quickly stripped and jumped into the tepid bath water. It didn’t help him. If anything, the aroma wafting up only pulled him further into the delectable lady’s lures.
He ran a hand over his jaw and scratched the stubble there. He wanted to have her, that was a given. But this endless longing to hold her, tease her, talk to the chit was beyond his normal reactions when around a beautiful woman.
So why was it so different with Arabella?
The fact she hated him, wanted nothing to do with him and certainly had no desire to bed him couldn’t possibly be the reason. Although after their last interaction, the latter may not be so true. Did she desire him as well? The thought jumbled in his mind and even Stephen had a hard time disbelieving it.
Someone so unattainable, above him, beyond his social sphere shouldn’t be someone he wanted so much.
But he did. Desperately.
He found Arabella at the bow looking out at the setting sun. The light altered the color of her hair and sent strands of fire flicking throughout the dark brown locks. “You may dine on the deck with me and my crew tonight.”
She didn’t acknowledge him; just continued to stare straight ahead. “You can’t kiss me like that again.” Arabella turned and pinned him with her determined gaze. “I’m betrothed. You’re a kidnapping pirate. You cannot go about kissing women you’re only too happy to steal away and ruin. I won’t allow it.”
The mention of her future husband made his gut churn like he’d eaten rotten fish. “Are you in any way acquainted with Lord Montague? Or was this just another absurd notion of your father’s?”
“Don’t mention my father to me. You’re already reprehensible, don’t make yourself irredeemable,” she said, her voice thrumming with anger.
Stephen stepped before her and clasped her arm, stopping her from escaping. “Does that mean you think me redeemable?” He grinned at her ferocious glare. “That the impeccable Miss Hester could possibly look past my misdemeanors and see the man inside.” Stephen started at his own words. Did he even want her to see the real him? And if she did, what was he willing to do about that.
Arabella burst out laughing and he raised his brow. He thought over what he’d said and couldn’t see anything amusing in it whatsoever. “Are you finished?” he asked at length, when tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“The man inside? You’ll be sprouting poetry next, Captain Blackmore.” She poked him in the chest and his body reveled in the contact. Little as it was. “I will never see you as anything other than a lying, stealing rogue. I should think you made the decision to be who you are many years ago, and set out quite determinedly to accomplish it. And since being here this last week or so, I see nothing but amusement and enjoyment with how your life has played out. There is no underlying man inside. Only an ass.”
Stephen swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. The venom in which she’d spoken only proved that she believed every word she said. Yes, he’d had to choose a certain way of life, and maybe it wasn’t what he should’ve been born to do, but it was the only option open to him. The fact that her father now owed him funds that were imperative to secure his and his men’s future only coiled the anger inside him tighter.
He was asset rich, but coin poor and the repairs required to his estate were substantial. Once his life on the high seas was over, he’d planned on living in Scotland and enjoying the rest of his days in peace and above the law. Arabella’s father and his lack of payment had already delayed him by a year. Everything cost something, and it was about time Lord Hester came to realize that fact.
He gritted his teeth. “Well, my dear. I look forward to proving you wrong.”
She patted his chest, the gesture patronizing. “Don’t tax yourself. It’s not possible.” She walked over to the makeshift table on which dinner was being laid out and sat.
He would look forward to the challenge.
Chapter Five
Arabella spooned up the fish soup, a soup that would’ve tasted nice should it not contain fish. She tried to hide her shudder of revulsion and failed. How people could live months on end, day after day of this type of diet baffled her.
The stars were out this fine night, not a cloud to be seen and it was as if she could reach out and hand and pick one from the sky. The water lapped at the ship’s side as it forced its way through the waves. It was truly beautiful. She adjusted her seat and enjoyed the freedom of movement her breeches afforded her. How wonderful it must be for men, to be able to wear such clothing always.
But it was all a rouse, for sitting at their table was their captive. A woman here against her will and they all knew it. Picking up a dried piece of bread, she broke it in two and took a bite, watching the captain as he spoke to his crew at the opposite end.
His hair was ruffled, his shirt partly open and exposing the light dusting of hair that feathered his chest. One arm lay lazily before him on the table, while the other was slumped over the back of his chair. She shook her head. It wasn’t a pose she was used to seeing at table. No one ever sat so relaxed, certainly not in her world. The captain threw back his head and laughed and Arabella had to admit, she enjoyed this ease of speech and meal more than the one she grew up having.
She turned to the man sitting beside her. “How long will it be before we make England?”
He choked on his brew and punched his chest to clear his airways. “It’s a six-week trip, miss. I should think we’ll not see London for another four and a bit weeks yet.”
Arabella nodded having figured the same. “Will the captain not stop for supplies along the way?” If they docked, she could try to escape. It was worth the risk. The captain joked with one of the deckhands and drew her attention to his lovely mouth. A mouth that had kissed her beyond thought only hours earlier, leaving her with emotions so conflicting she’d not known what to say or how to react ever since.
Without thought she licked her lips just as he caught her eye. His mouth lifted into a knowing grin and her palms started to sweat. She shouldn’t be attracted to him and had in fact protested to the very infuriating man that she never would be. But she was. Never had she found a man more attractive in her life. The reflection infuriated her as much as it excited her.
She was on a ship, in the middle of the Mediterranean, could she throw caution aside and do what she wanted for the first time in her life? Such actions went against everything she’d been brought up to believe, to think and act, but what was life without a little adventure or so others had said.
Of course, it would mean she would have to tell the captain she wanted adventure, to live free until the time came that she was returned to her father, especially if she wanted him to kiss her again. Or maybe she’d just let him try and seduce her and let him think it was entirely his idea. Such a ploy would certainly save her pride, and yet, could she wait so long for him to kiss her again?
What a fool she was. Had she not just argued with him that she would never allow him to kiss her again? And here she was, with a little wine in her belly, moonlit night and a handsome captain at the end of a dinner table and she’d succumbed to the romance of it all.
Arabella let her gaze travel over his form and noted his hand was fisted on the table. She caught his heated, intense gaze and held it. What she was contemplating was wrong, scandalous in fact and ruining. Should she be caught, her good social standing would be a thing of the past. Her betrothed would turn away from her in disgrace.
Not that the former would bother her much. Lord Montague hadn’t taken much interest in her even after the notices were posted about their forthcoming nuptials. Too interested in his friends and the enjoyment of her island life that he could experience. But Captain Blackmore was interested. And by the hooded, lazy gaze as he took his fill of her, his seduction of her would be whenever she allowed it.
The sound of her dinner companion’s voice jolted her back. “The captain has enough supplies to last us until we reach England. No point trying to escape, miss. You’re as stuck here on this ship as much as the rest of us.”
Arabella nodded. “I thought as much.” She turned toward the deckhand. “Have you ever kidnapped a woman before or am I the only lucky one?”
He laughed. “We’re not even really pirates. We ship contraband, smuggle sometimes into England when toffs like you require goods. The cargo has always been menial fare that wouldn’t hurt a fly. So when the captain discussed taking you onboard against yer will we were all very against the idea. But the funds that are due to the captain will enable him to leave for Scotland and his crew to start a fresh life wherever we want. ‘Tis only fair the amount is paid.”
“And you too believe that my father owes this money?” She thought back on her papa and his penchant for gambling. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least that he’d smuggled goods into England to make a profit, whether it was against the English law or not. Where there was quick blunt to be made, her father normally sniffed it out like a beagle. But to not pay a debt seemed to go against the character she thought she knew so well.
“He does. I just hope for your sake he can pay it. The men here never wanted to pull you into this mess, but the captain having seen you one day wouldn’t hear sense. It was as if he–”
“Miss Hester, it’s time you went back to the cabin.” The captain cut into the deckhand’s speech and left Arabella grappling to know what he was going to say.
“I’m not ready to go below decks. I’m having a lovely conversation with Mr…?”
The deckhand grinned. “Call me Joe.”
“I’m having a lovely conversation with Joe. You retire if you wish, but I’m staying here.” Arabella took a sip of wine and squealed, dropping the beverage over the table when the captain picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and started to storm toward the cabin’s door. She clasped his back and realized her mistake as soon as she felt the corded muscles that ran down his spine.
The warmth of his skin penetrated his shirt, and her stomach tied into knots. He was so strong, virile that it was overwhelming. She didn’t say anything else. Instead, she waited for him to place her back onto her feet so she could look at him in the eye when she gave him a proper set down.
“How dare you treat me like a piece of meat? It has been many years since I’ve been made to go to bed like an errant child. I may not be a Duke’s daughter, but I am a well-bred, respectable woman. Does that mean anything to you?’
“I know exactly who you are.” His words were low with a savage edge and the pent up desire she read in his gaze sent her heart to pound. He was going to kiss her…
Arabella gasped as he took her lips, using her shock to deepen the embrace. This was madness. An addictive disease that no matter how destructive, one she didn’t wish to be cured of.
He nipped her lips, suckled the bottom one before pulling away. Her body wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. Instead, she grasped his shirt and wouldn’t allow the distance to go any further. “And who is that?”
He clasped the collar of her shirt and slipped it off her shoulder, revealing a good portion of skin. “The woman I want in my bed, tonight and for as many nights to come for as long as she’ll allow it.”
“You know what you’re asking of me.” Arabella cleared her throat, even to her, her voice sounded husky and nothing like the forthright, determined voice she usually sported.
His eyes darkened in determination. “I do. And yet I’m still going to ask.”
He swung her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. Could she actually do this? Throw her virginity away and possibly her future? He
nuzzled her neck, his breath sending delicious shivers down her skin.
Oh yes, she could throw it all away if only he kept making her feel like this.
Special, needy and expectant, like she was the only woman in the world.
The captain clasped the hem of her shirt and ripped it off. Arabella sank into the bedding and watched enthralled as he came down over her before she realized something imperative. “Somehow this seems wrong when I don’t know your first name.”
He clutched her waist and idly ran a finger over her stomach. “My name’s Stephen.”
Stephen… It suited him. He unclasped the buttons on her buckskin breeches before touching her where no one had ever touched before. Arabella closed her eyes and reveled in the delicious friction he created against her flesh. Fire burned through her blood, a delicious ache settled between her legs and she moaned as fingers delved within her. Unable to stem her need, she lifted against his hand, wanting more of his touch.
His rumbling chuckle against her lips tickled. “You like that, do you not?” His touch shifted to her most intimate of places she gasped.
“Very much so. Tell me what you’re doing to me.”
“I’m kissing you. Letting you feel with my tongue, with my lips.” He took her mouth in a searing kiss, dragging her further into a world she’d often wondered about, but was forever elusive. “How much I want to take you and make you mine.”
Arabella slid her hand under his shirt and pulled it out of his breeches, dragging it over his head. The muscles of his shoulders flexed, his pectoral and abdomen rippled with the movement. Her mouth dried.
Magnificent.
Taking a chance, she kissed her way down his chest, before teasing a nipple with her tongue. She heard his intake of breath and stopped. “Have I hurt you?”
He pulled away, kneeling between her thighs. “Not in the way you think.”
Arabella laughed as he ripped her breeches down her legs and threw them absently to the floor. His intense gaze branded her as his as he settled back over her. His hard member pushed against her mons, rubbed along her slickened heat. The friction from the soft yet rigid appendage did odd things to her insides. Her stomach twisted in delicious knots. “Yes. Keep doing that.”
