Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  She might have screamed, but the wind ripped it away and then she redoubled her efforts, rolling easily over the massive wave and pushing toward the men who were now bobbing helplessly in the water.

  She rowed toward them until she reached the first man attempting to stay above the water and, holding out an oar, she yelled, “Get in!” Reaching out her hand, she helped him climb into the rowboat. He collapsed on the bottom of the tiny ship and then she collected another swimming toward the shore. The overturned dinghy had landed right side up and several men were crawling back into it as well.

  Between Emilia’s boat and the other dinghy, all the men save one had been pulled from the ocean and she made her way to where he tread water.

  When she reached down her oar, the man latched onto it, his blue eyes piercing into hers in a way that made her already labored breath rush out of her chest. They were so mesmerizing she completely forgot to reach out her hand to help in into the boat.

  He climbed up anyway, grasping the side of the ship, and then several men reached over to pull him into the nearly full dinghy.

  Unlike many of the men who had collapsed into the boat, the second his feet hit the bottom, he stood. Without missing a breath, he grasped her about the waist and hauled her up against him. She nearly dropped the oars in her surprise. For a moment, she had a wild thought that he would kiss her. Her eyes widened as his held hers captive. Every nerve tingled as she became aware of all the places his hard body pressed against hers.

  Her lips parted in anticipation but he only gave her a small smile and then his hands left her waist as he slipped underneath her arm, sitting on the bench behind her. Grasping her waist again, he pulled her down into his lap.

  Confusion knitted her brow and she turned back to look at him. “Sir, what are you—”

  The smile returned as his hand came over hers, to clasp the oars. “I thought I might help you row.” His breath was warm against her cheek and it made her tingle in the strangest places.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed as his hands grasped hers on the oars. Then he began to move, her body cradled into his as she worked with him to row the boat back to shore.

  A flush climbed her cheeks as they swayed back and forth, their bodies moving together. She’d never been this close to a man, so intimately entwined, and her body hummed with the feel of it. If not for the cold seeping into every extremity, it might have been the most exciting moment of her life.

  The waves helped push them onto the beach and the men hopped out, pulling the rowboat further onto the shore. Without a word, the man whose lap she sat upon stood and swept her into his arms. Deftly he climbed over the side of the boat and then began making his way up the beach, still holding her.

  “Lady Emilia,” one of the stablemen, Creeves, called out from the bottom of the stairs. He must have seen the light or heard the bell and had come to aid the ship. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  “My lady?” His voice whispered into her ear.

  She turned to look at him, which might have been a mistake, because then her lips were just a breath away from his. She wondered what they might taste like. Salt, of course. He’d just been in the ocean. Blinking, she tried to clear those thoughts. “Y-y-yes. I-I am-m-m the d-d-daughter...” What was wrong with her voice? Belatedly she realized she was shivering despite his heat.

  “It’s all right, you can tell me later. I am Captain Jack Andrews. I owe you a debt of gratitude for aiding us. You saved my men’s life today as well as my own.”

  She gave a nod as more of the servants began flooding onto the beach. Voices were calling from everywhere, questions were being bandied about from all directions but she could barely understand them as she shrank further down into Captain Andrew’s heat.

  Her head lolled onto his shoulder and her eyes drifted closed. “No sleeping now,” his voice called her back.

  “H-h-how are y-y-y-you still s-s-s-tanding?” she managed to ask between shivers. His clothes were soaked through and dripping.

  “I am used to being wet and cold. But you, my lady, need to get inside.” He barked several orders to his crew and her staff and then he began climbing the steps off the beach and up to her home two at a time.

  Either she was too cold to care, or he was exceptionally gentle, because she’d barely noticed any jostling as they climbed. Quite suddenly, they were at the top and he was striding toward the castle. Dimly she was aware of Creeves next to them, panting with the effort it took him to keep pace. “Captain,” he gasped. “Should I run ahead and tell ‘em yer comin’?”

  “No need,” he said. She felt a tiny rumble of laughter in his chest and despite the cold, her lips turned up a little. Creeves had gone mad if he thought he’d outpace the captain to the door.

  “I-I c-can walk,” she pushed past her lips, her tremor lessening as they moved away from the beach and the strong wind that bit at the shore.

  “I’ll hold you,” he murmured, his lips vibrating against the top of her head. “I’ll have you inside in a moment and tucked into a nice warm bed.”

  Bed. The word hummed through her head as images of the captain in her room, laying her on her bed, flitted through her mind. Places she’d never even been aware of heated at his words. More thoughts of their bodies pressed together, their clothes falling away, their mouths...

  “Emilia,” her father’s voice boomed over the courtyard, interrupting her train of thought entirely.

  Captain Andrews quickened his pace yet again, leaving Creeves behind. “She is very cold, my lord. She needs to get inside.”

  “This way.” Her father turned as they came beside him and began walking toward the front door. “I trust you’ll give me a full accounting of what has happened.”

  Emilia tried to lift her head to reply but before she could even think the words, the captain was answering. “Of course, my lord. I’ve twenty wet and frightened men on the beach. Do you have anywhere I might dry and warm them?”

  Her father’s deep brogue bellowed for all to hear. “Bring ‘em intae the main hall.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the captain replied as he strode through the double doors, the warmth of the castle touching her skin. With a sigh, she closed her eyes again.

  “NO SLEEPING,” JACK looked down at the lovely woman curled in his arms. He’d strip her down himself and hold her close to warm her freezing skin, consequences be damned, if that was what it took to save her. He owed her nothing less after what she had done for him and his men.

  Her lashes fluttered open again, revealing the deep pools of her green eyes. Her gaze was confused as she looked up at him, her sweet mouth puckering in the most delightful way. “Sleep?” she murmured.

  “That’s right. Stay awake for me now, my lady. Emilia, is it?” He gave her a smile that felt forced, even to him. In all honestly, he was frightened. More so than he’d been out on the ocean or even when the dinghy had tipped. He’d long ago deemed his own life expendable. Worth little or nothing. But she was another matter entirely. Any woman strong enough to toss herself out onto the open ocean to save a group of strangers deserved all the best life had to offer.

  “Mmhhh,” she replied slowly. “You’re warm.”

  This time the tugging up of his lips was genuine rather than forced. “And you are quite beautiful.”

  Her eyes opened wider then. “That’s kind.” Her head lolled to the side as though she were drunk.

  He jostled her in his arms as her father led him up the stairs. It wasn’t meant to be kind, it was the truth. “You doubt my words?” he asked a good deal louder than necessary.

  Her head came back up. “My sisters are beautiful. Fiona has flaming red hair as wild as her spirit...” Her voice drifted off again.

  “Sisters? How many?” he asked, mostly to keep her talking.

  “Two,” she murmured.

  “And who is the other?”

  “Ainsley. Everyone loves Ainsley. Everywhere she goes people tell her...” Her voice began to fade and her fa
ther looked back at them. He was a large man with hair that looked as though it had been quite red, but was now streaked with grey. Everything about him commanded respect, except his eyes. They were filled with worry. Jack was sure his own gaze mirrored the emotion.

  “What do people tell Ainsley?” Even to his own tongue, it felt strange to use their given names but he’d do anything to keep her talking.

  “How charming she is. So accomplished.” Her head lifted. “And my cousin, Clarissa, you’d like her. She’s English.”

  His eyebrow quirked. She had clearly identified his accent as English though he had no idea why that meant he might like her cousin. He disliked a good many English men and women. Besides, he was at least half Scot. The other half was another matter entirely.

  “Does she go around saving ships full of sailors too?” He gave her another little jostle just to keep her awake.

  Jack heard her father grunt. “She didna’.”

  “I didn’t save you. You mostly saved me.” She snuggled closer.

  He had the most ridiculous urge to kiss the top of her head, her cheeks, her eyes. “I believe it was you who fished me out of the water.”

  Her father opened a door up ahead and stepped into the room. Jack followed. The room would have made him grin if he wasn’t so worried. Books were stacked on every surface, cozy blankets draped across each of the chairs, a fire crackled in the hearth. Not pausing to ask permission, he strode over to it and dropped to his knees. “That feels so good,” she near moaned, her face turning to the flames.

  His body clenched at the sound of her breathy voice. Was he responding to her? Damnation, this wasn’t the time to desire a woman. He gave his head a shake, trying to clear it.

  Three maids entered the room and for a moment, he held her closer to his body, savoring the feel of her before she was taken away.

  Chapter Two

  Once more in dry clothes, Jack sat across from the beast of a Scotsman who had taken them in from the storm. The Earl of Ravenscraig had ushered Jack out his daughter’s room the moment the maids had arrived.

  He’d looked back one final time and caught a glimpse of them stripping off her clothes. Not that he’d seen anything untoward. But he could imagine it in vivid detail.

  Closing his eyes for a span of a breath, he tried to calm his overactive body. He had important matters to worry about. First, a crew full of men and then an urgent plea from his uncle to return home as soon as he could. It was the lack of information that had worried him more than anything. Fearing the worst, he’d only just received the missive when he’d returned to England. They’d set sail within a day when they’d been overtaken by the weather. “I’d like to thank you again for taking my crew in, my lord.”

  The other man grunted. “It’s part of livin’ on the sea. Ye take in those in need. I am more concerned about what transpired with my daughter.”

  Jack gave a nod. “She saw our ship in distress from the beach, I believe. I am assuming she lit the lighthouse beacon and then began rowing to our aid.”

  Ravenscraig gave another grunt. “Fer fecks sake, she’s supposed tae be my sensible child.”

  “I can’t speak to that.” Jack tried to hide a grin. “But I don’t know if I’d have survived if she hadn’t rowed out. Our dinghy capsized when overloaded and was hit by a wave. She plucked me out of the water.” In his opinion, saving his life was not only sensible but downright heroic.

  “Did she?” Ravenscraig leaned forward. “And ye’d thought ye’d return the favor by getting her back to the castle before she froze?”

  “That’s correct.” Jack gave a nod.

  “Thank ye for that.” The man’s eyes assessed him again. “I ‘ave to admit, for a smaller man, yer quite strong.”

  Jack’s eyebrows lifted at that. Not many men could refer to him as small. He was more than six feet, and though lean, broad in the shoulders. At two and thirty, he’d acquired just a touch of grey in his hair, but he was just as strong as he’d been ten years ago, the hard work of being on deck keeping him fit. “Thank you.”

  “What ‘appened to yer ship?”

  Jack frowned at that. “A fierce storm is blowing this way, it hit the south first but it will be here soon. We got caught in it and it broke our main mast.”

  Haggis sat back in his chair. “A mast I can help ye with.”

  “That is much appreciated, but I don’t know that we’ll be able to do much until the storm has passed.”

  The other man gave a nod. “How soon till this bit o’ nasty weather arrives? Most of my family is on the road, makin’ their way home for Chrismastide.”

  “Hours, maybe less.” Jack grimaced. “I’m sorry to bear the news. I too was trying to get to family.”

  Ravenscraig grunted again. “My wife and youngest daughter are with kin. I’m sure they will be safe. Hopefully the rest haven’t begun travelling or can tuck into an inn.” He gave the captain one more assessing glance. “Ye and yer men can wait out the weather here.”

  Jack gave a nod of appreciation. “Thank you, my lord. If I may be so bold, may I speak with your daughter tomorrow to offer my thanks for her aid?”

  Ravenscraig gave a single nod. “If she is well enough.”

  Jack rose. “Of course. If you will excuse me, I will attend my men. It’s a pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Lord Ravenscraig.”

  Ravenscraig stood as well. “Call me Haggis. Near everyone else around here does. You’ll find them in the west wing of the castle. It’s a bit dusty but it’ll keep ‘em warm and dry.”

  With a final nod, Jack turned to go.

  He spent the day helping men acquire rooms and dry out their clothing. They’d taken little more than themselves off the ship, so some personal items were necessary.

  Jack learned that the Earl of Ravenscraig, Haggis McDougal, did in fact have three daughters, one of whom had just married and the other had gone to visit a cousin south of here. A letter had arrived only two days prior that Ainsley was being courted by an English lord and that he’d be joining them for Christmastide to formally request her hand from Haggis.

  Thinking back to Emilia’s sleepy murmurs, he wondered if she felt inferior to her sisters. She’d described them as though they were more spirited and interesting than herself.

  He hadn’t met them, of course, but he had a difficult time believing any woman was more exciting than she was.

  As night fell, the storm hit the castle. Rain whipped at the old stones as wind howled, echoing throughout the halls. Jack tried to sleep, but after tossing and turning he finally rose. He’d been so busy, he’d hardly had time to reflect on the castle in which he was housed. His uncle, a laird with an impressive expanse of land, had a much simpler stone home. While he loved that old house, this was truly impressive.

  He’d maneuvered about several halls, and around more than one suit of armor, when he came across the servants’ stairs in the back of the castle. Making his way down, he thought to find the great hall once again to regain his bearings to his room. But he must have gone down one flight too many because he found himself below stairs near the kitchen. What was more, the sound of pots and plates being moved about definitely wasn’t due to the storm. He approached the doorway slowly and peeked his head inside. What he saw near made him laugh out loud.

  Emilia stood in the kitchen, a simple braid in her hair, a night rail floating about her body, and a tartan draped across her shoulders as she fixed herself a heaping plate of food.

  “Hungry?” he called out.

  She jumped a foot in the air and sent the contents of her plate sailing across the large room. She turned quickly and he watched as fear dawned into recognition and then quickly to merriment. “You frightened me,” she admonished with a quiet laugh.

  “My apologies.” He gave a bow. “Let me help you clean up the mess.”

  “Thank you,” her eyes sparkled in the dim light. “Would you like something to eat as well?”

  He stood from where he had
been collecting bits of food. “That would be lovely, actually. In the rush of getting everyone settled, I forgot to eat today.”

  “So did I.” She gave him a grin over her shoulder as she pulled down another plate and began loading it with food. “I was sleeping and missed most of the meals for the day. Now I am famished and wide awake.”

  “Are you feeling better?” He came up behind her then. He wanted to touch her, hold her like he had before.

  “Much, thank you.” She gave him another small smile over her shoulder. “What tempted you out of your room this dreary night?”

  “The storm kept me awake and then I couldn’t resist the lure of the castle. I had to explore.”

  “Interested in the castle?” She turned, two plates in her hand, and handed him one.

  He nodded, allowing his enthusiasm to filter into his words. “It’s like being in a boyhood fantasy.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling again. “I know the perfect place to eat this.”

  THEY’D BEEN WALKING up a winding set of stairs for what seemed like forever, though Jack didn’t really care. In one hand, Emilia held a plate, in the other a candle that made her night rail nearly transparent. The view in front of him would have propelled him forward for days. The sway of her hips as she climbed had him mesmerized and he wished again that he could touch her as he’d done earlier. Hold her against his body. He wondered what she might taste like. Sweet or savory?

  “We’re almost there,” she called over her shoulder.

  Jack gave a nod, his insides tightening further. The urge to slip his hand into her hair and turn her face to his so that he might capture her lips near overwhelmed him.

  As a man of the sea, he’d met a great many women in ports all over Europe. He’d tried to remember when one had affected him so. If he were honest, as he assessed her tiny waist and the flare of her hips, he couldn’t seem to picture any women other than her. How could this be happening?

  She stopped, a pang of disappointment turning down the corners of his lips as her hips stilled. “Hold this,” she said as she turned to hand them him the candle. As she did so, their fingers brushed, hers soft against his own callused hands. A need to touch every inch of her palm then kiss it made his chest tight with desire. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t be alone with her like this.