Pirate's Conquest

by Mary Martin

  "To a treasure of riches beyond a man's dreams," Rayne finished.

  "So you intend to protect the location of the treasure by keeping the girl as close to you as possible?"

  "Yes. It rightfully belongs to April. It was her great-great-grandmother whose dowry provided much of the treasure. And from stories handed down through the years, dear Grandmother does not take kindly to having her final resting place converged upon by greedy treasure-seekers."

  Ely favored him with a dubious expression. "You believe those ghost stories?'

  Rayne shrugged one shoulder. "The Triangle never treats interlopers too kindly." He sipped at his drink. "I believe that anything can happen there."

  "In view of this... do you think that there is a chance that Carl Cambridge might be alive, perhaps keeping a low profile until he can make his final, triumphant move?'

  "I've thought of that."

  "There are some who think they've seen him around his estate in the Keys, you know—sort of keeping an eye on things."

  The tumbler lifted slowly to Rayne's mouth. "Maybe someone else is prowling about.. . looking for some­thing?'

  "I think perhaps in order to protect the secret, you are going to have to set aside all thoughts of revenge, Brother, and concentrate on keeping the girl from falling victim to Wells's scheming."

  "You are probably right, Ely," Rayne agreed. "We . still have much to learn about him. And soon, I think, it

  is time for us to leave England and make our presence known in Key West once again."

  "And leave milady unprotected?"

  Rayne laughed softly, wickedly. "I think not. She shall have my undivided attention from this day forward."

  "And how do you propose to do that if you are across the ocean from her?" Ely posed.

  "That is your conclusion—not mine," Rayne replied dryly.

  "What goes on in that head of yours, Brother? I am beginning to think you seek to punish the girl for her father's sins."

  "You are the one who pointed out to me how the lady requires my constant presence in her life."

  "I said she needs protection," Ely said tightly. "You have taken it upon yourself to exact vengeance. But you can leave me out of using her, Rayne."

  "One and the same thing. In order to protect her, I must be near to her."

  "She appears to be so innocent, Rayne," Ely could not help but mention. "Must she be made to suffer for something she has no knowledge of?"

  Rayne's face darkened and his green eyes flashed fire. "Vengeance is an emotion not easily set aside. I have agreed to do so only for a time. The girl is a Cambridge, and in the end shall also pay."

  Starlin knew he was there before he even stepped into her line of vision. She was standing in the crowded ballroom of Almacks chatting with her friend Paula when she heard his husky voice speak her name. She glanced up to find Rayne Morgan before her. Her heart raced.

  "I never thought to see you here," she stated calmly.

  "Do I detect a note of gladness in your voice?" he said in an indulgent tone that made her instantly grit her teeth. He nodded toward Paula, then swung his gaze back to Starlin. "Where is your gallant escort, the ever-persistent Lord CourtlandT

  "He will return soon, and he should not find you monopolizing my time," Starlin stated testily, wonder­ing how the man could irritate her and fascinate her all in the same instant.

  He looked at her with that surprisingly patrician air, which suddenly changed to that irrepressible grin. They stared silently at each other. His elegant black attire fit his tall frame and wide shoulders perfectly, the white shirt and lacy jabot at his throat only serving to enhance his darkly tanned face.

  "Such sharp claws," he teased infuriatingly.

  Starlin's back went rigid and her cheeks burned, for she knew her friend Paula was enjoying this im­mensely. "When one senses predators about, yes," she shot back, her violet eyes beginning to show anger.

  Paula chuckled. Starlin suppressed the urge to jab her with an elbow.

  "Are you implying that I'm stalking you?" he said silkily.

  She placed her wineglass to her lips, studied him over the rim. "Do you deny it?'

  "Not at all," he replied bluntly. "I am stalking you, milady, and I think you are enjoying it."

  Paula's blue eyes peered owlishly from her chubby face to observe this display of fireworks. They were a

  couple quite unlike any other that she'd ever seen. She did not think her friend was aware of it as yet, but Paula felt certain that Starlin's long reign as Ice Princess was soon to end. Gore, she wished a devil like Morgan would look at her in such a way. She would follow him to the ends of the earth with not one question asked.

  "It seems you have forgotten what I said the other night, milord," Starlin said coldly, controlling her fury with an effort.

  His smiled widened, devilish lights in his jade eyes.

  "On the contrary. I remember it only too well," he returned, raising his champagne glass to his lips, his eyes never once straying from hers.

  "You are a most uncooperative man, aren't you?"

  "Sometimes," he drawled, "when I think the end result will be in my best interest."

  Her violet eyes were stormy, but she managed to keep her voice hushed. "You're looking for a lot of trouble, Morgan, if you persist in this fashion."

  "I'm not the one causing trouble at the moment," he said dryly.

  "Yes you are. I didn't give you permission to court me," she persisted, "and that is what everyone is going to think if you keep showing up wherever I am."

  "Perhaps I'd like to court you."

  Starlin stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

  Paula's extravagant sigh was cut short when Starlin stepped on her slipper. Paula muffled a gasp and blushed scarlet.

  While Starlin would have liked nothing better than to shout to everyone that he'd stolen her jewels even as he'd seduced her, she knew that would never do. She had vowed to best him. There would never be a better time than the present to begin weaving her silken web about him. He was even going to make it easy for her. But oh how she longed to smack that arrogant, self-assured smile off his face. The haut monde were listed in Almacks' exclusive guest register. She would show them how easily Starlin Cambridge resisted his charm. And how ardently Rayne Morgan pursued her. Starlin flashed a brief, alluring smile.

  "You love saying things to shock people," she stated softly.

  Music wafted over the din of voices, a lovely waltz that was a favorite of hers.

  "May I have this dance?"

  Her eyes flew to his face. Before she could protest, or even think what to say, he'd taken the glass from her stiff fingers and handed it, along with his, to a passing butler.

  "Oh go on, Starlin," Paula urged. "I'll be happy to occupy Lord Courtland for you."

  Starlin's blood raced through her veins as Morgan swept her in his arms. Holding her much too close to him, he didn't make a move for several heartstopping seconds. His handsome mouth lifted at one corner in a rakish grin, and he caressed her mouth with his eyes. And just when she felt certain every pair of eyes in the room must be turned upon them, he swept her gracefully onto the center floor and stole the last of her resistance away with the touch of his body.

  It was a wonderful, glorious sensation to twirl breathlessly in his arms as they moved round and round beneath the multicolored prisms of crystal globes. She was filled with heady delight, and at the same time wondering what had gone wrong? He was the one who was to fall beneath her spell. Looking up into his bold face, feeling the heat of him pressed so intimately against her, she felt her firm resolve slipping away and saw his mouth quirk ever so slightly.

  "You cannot fight me, Starlin," he whispered smoothly.

  Starlin's heart began beating in her breast and she leaned her head back, her eyes drawing his. She had to admit he intrigued her more than anyone she'd ever met. He was all dare and passion, terribly wicked, and set on having her. The risk to share just one night with hi
m at this instant was almost worth taking; he was that captivating.

  "I wish you wouldn't talk as if you have the right to order me about," Starlin said quickly.

  "You need watching after," he stated matter-of-factly, and was surprised when she didn't argue. His arms went about her waist, pulling her even tighter against him. Together their bodies swayed and floated, moving over the dance floor as if they were the only two people in the room. He was an expert dancer, smooth and light on his feet. It was madness again, she reminded herself. But this time, there was no full moon.

  People whispered around them, eyes staring, some smiling knowingly. Starlin did not even hear them. Rayne sensed their watching and her surrender.

  "Come outside with me for a breath of fresh air, if you think you might find the nerve to slip away from your escort?' he challenged. Before she had time to protest he was sweeping her through the crowd with a graceful flourish toward the open terrace doors.

  Once outside with him and walking through the dimly lit gardens surrounded by the privacy of the high hedges, Starlin began to relax. He chatted companion-ably as they meandered along beneath the swaying limbs of silver-leafed birches silhouetted in shadow by the moon. Around them came the soothing night sounds. Crickets with their persistent song, an owl seeking his mate, and fireflies, glowing amber-gold before her eyes, soon lulled her into a sense of calm.

  After awhile, she found herself conversing with him as though they'd known each other all their lives. They talked about many things, and if he was surprised at her knowledge of political events he gave no indication. He listened to her views on world matters: the tragedy of war, her abhorrence of bloodshed. He never once scoffed at her womanly concerns, but offered in lengthy detail his own thoughts on these issues.

  Starlin was amazed to discover his distaste for killing, and his total absorption with everything that she said. He seemed genuinely interested in everything about her. As they paused beneath a rose arbor heavy with perfumed blooms, the moon caught them in its penetrating aura, and she found herself listening enraptured to his words. He stated that sometimes killing could not be avoided and was necessary. It was never easy to take a human life, he said, though at times, for love, honor, and defense of one's self and one's country, it was necessary.

  "But that still does not make it right," she replied quite seriously.

  "Nor wrong." He cocked his head. "Just unfor­tunate ... like many things." At these last words he reached forward and lightly touched the becoming blush of color on her cheek.

  They both fell silent.

  Starlin stared up at him, wishing she could read the message in those magnetic eyes. A hot rush of searing heat consumed her, making her lost and eager when he reached forward to pull her against him.

  Her arms went about his neck as their lips met. The tip of his tongue teased hers then slipped into her mouth and out again to brush with fire the inside of her lips. He kept this up, teasing, drawing away her every restraint, so when she felt his fingers free her breast and cup the fullness, she made no move to stop him. The lush peaks swelled to meet his touch.

  Starlin could feel the heat of him through her gown and longed to shed the clothes that lay between them. She wanted nothing but that magnificent hard body of his moving over hers, claiming hers in the way he had that first time.

  Boldly she met the thrusting motion of his tongue with her own, her hips moving suggestively against him. There was a rustle of silk and a flurry of petticoats and his fingers were caressing the silken splendor of her thigh, teasing inside the drawn waistband of her pantalets.

  "We can't do this," she breathed against his lips.

  His lips moved downward, tongue flicking across a quivering nipple. "Shall I stop?" he murmured.

  "No," she gasped.

  He raised his head, a hint of a wicked smile barely evident. "Don't stop or don't continue? Which is it, Starlin?"

  Starlin tried to withdraw from his arms, but he held her tightly.

  "Tell me what it is you want," he murmured, taking her chin between his fingertips and slowly coaxing it upward.

  Her violet eyes went wide, half mesmerized by stormy green depths that clouded her reason. "I ... I... please don't ask it of me."

  He gathered her close in his arms, his hand moving over the smooth flesh of her stomach, teasing her with feather-light motions. She could not stop the moans that came from deep inside her as he dipped lower, yet never quite low enough. He knew just the motion to drive her wild, and with each thrust of his tongue the heat soared. It was bliss. Penetrating ... withdrawing . .. working her nerves into a frenzy of desire and making her forget everything but the delicious sensa­tions spiraling through her.

  Unwilling, Morgan knew, yet so innocent of desire that she was eager in his arms and yearning for that heady fulfillment he promised with his touch. Why not take her now, you fool? his inner voice goaded. She's ready, you have Carl Cambridge's sweet young thing right where you've wanted her. Take her—here with her skirts hiked up to her waist and false promises on your lips. Strip her of all pride, like he did to those you love. She's the enemy .. . and to destroy all of the awful memories you must seek your revenge on his flesh and blood until there is nothing left for them but their shame.

  He lowered his mouth to her breast, capturing a rosy-tipped nipple between his teeth to nibble the hard bud. Suddenly he drew back his head.

  Starlin's breath was coming in short gasps. She knew if she did not break free of him that her reputation would be ruined for certain. She was aware of approaching footsteps. Her eyes widened. She tried to protest, to resist his caresses, but her limbs felt as if they were weighted. She was losing control, succumbing to her desire for this man yet again.

  "Bloody hell," Rayne cursed softly as he set the raven-haired beauty from him. "This is not the place for a lovers' tryst, milady." He straightened her clothing, his face a cold, hard mask.

  Starlin's body trembled with emotion. She brushed his fingers aside and adjusted the bodice of her gown. She did not wish to meet his eyes.

  "I don't believe it's a good idea for us to be seen together again," she said.

  To her intense mortification he laughed.

  "Do you honestly think that I will honor such a request?"

  "I am not your property," Starlin shot back, her back going rigid with indignation.

  "Aren't you?" he drawled.

  Her hand shot forward to slap him soundly across the face. He grabbed her and yanked her back into his arms.

  "I was your first lover," he said fiercely, "and your last."

  A pair of steely eyes glinted challengingly at her.

  Starlin tried to regain her composure. She tilted her head to study him closely. "You will never own me, Morgan. I am not one of your cheap whores who you can order about and buy with gold coins. And you insult me with your presuming manner."

  "You aren't the kind of woman who lets very much unnerve her. I am what I am. And that's what excites you, beautiful. Because I'm just a bit different... the rogue you swear you hate."

  He released her and stood back to study her closely, admiringly. Starlin noticed another couple pass by in the shadows. They nodded politely at Rayne and Starlin and continued onward.

  Starlin frowned. "Why is it, that whenever I'm with you, I feel that we are trying to best each other?"

  "It's the nature of people like us, I expect. I admire that in a woman."

  She sighed and clasped a shaky hand to her throat. Suddenly, the ring flashed a glittering reminder in the moonlight.

  He took hold of her hand. "Your ring. From the first, it has reminded of another. One that would have been worn by my wife if I had ever married."

  "Is there someone—T Starlin felt compelled to ask.

  "Was, and is no more—just as the ring." His tone was flat.

  For some insane reason Starlin felt gladdened by his reply, and was stunned. She had experienced a fleeting stab of jealousy visualizing another woman in his arms.
More than ever, she knew she must guard her heart against his ardent assault. There had been someone very special to him. Possibly, he'd even return to her. She vowed never again to become a willing victim of his game of passion.

  "There is so much about you that I don't under­stand," she said.

  "I could say the very same thing about you. You're the only woman who has ever intrigued me."

  A dainty brow arched. "I'm glad you find me so amusing."

  "You misread everything I say," he returned, giving her a measuring look. "The only thing you understand, it seems, is the mutual attraction between us."

  Her eyes blazed with sudden and absolute under­standing. She was just turning away when he grabbed her. His head dipped forward. Her rational thinking became threatened and she fought frantically with her self-control. He made no move to take her into his arms but simply lowered his lips to kiss her trembling mouth.

  To his surprise, he experienced a brief stab of regret for the necessity of bending her willful spirit to his own. She was so young and innocent in her passion, and absolutely unaware of how her emotions would eventually betray her. His lips persuaded hers to part, to accept the hot thrust of his tongue hungrily exploring the sweet warmth she offered.

  Her breath came in short gasps, her body melded against the seeking hardness of his. In her heart Starlin told him of her secret longings.

  In his, there was no room for love, or a woman who expected it. But tonight, he had decided not to think of anything but Starlin, and how good it felt to lose himself in the sensual promise she offered him.

  Starlin left Rayne in the garden and went in search of Courtland. She found him in the ballroom and, pleading illness, persuaded him to leave earlier than usual. He was disgruntled to say the least. As soon as they reached his carriage he turned ugly. He'd looked everywhere for her, he had said, and demanded to know where she had been. When Starlin told him it was none of his business, he had flown into a rage. When they reached Eaton Hall, Starlin hurried from the carriage, Courtland in fast pursuit.

  "Where were you, Starlin? I looked all over, asked everyone if they'd seen you. You were gone a long while," Courtland ranted behind her. "I have a right to know. After all, you will soon be my wife."