The Pirate's Lady

by Tricia Schneider

  He suppressed a shudder.

  Arianne needed him.

  That moved his feet. He climbed down the rickety ladder, taking the candle as she passed it to him. When he faced the tunnel, he glanced quickly at his feet and legs. Nothing squirmed, crawled or squealed.

  He took Arianne’s hand in his, keeping her close at his side as he led the way into the dark tunnel. The candlelight chased the shadows away a short distance ahead of them. They moved slowly so as to watch their step. Debris littered the floor, with an occasional box of brandy or rum here and there.

  It felt as though a thousand leagues of ocean sat on Marco’s chest, making it difficult to inhale the dank tunnel air. He tensed at every object they encountered, expecting to see a rodent among the debris. He cursed his cowardice, but kept walking forward. If he faltered, she might become suspicious. He was surprised she hadn’t commented on the tight grip he held on her hand or the stiffness in his shoulders he was certain she could see.

  It seemed as though hours had passed, but in reality only minutes, when they came to another rickety ladder leading up to another trapdoor.

  “And now?” Marco asked her, keeping his voice soft.

  “We go up.”

  He handed the candle to her. She lifted it high to shed light as he climbed. Slowly, he pushed the door open, peering through the crack. A plain wooden bed in one corner, a chair and small table with a tiny mirror in the other, various fabrics littered the floor. As he looked closer he realized it was clothing. Perfume mixed with the odor of spirits permeated the air.

  The door to the bedchamber opened. A pair of slim legs encased in shabby brown boots appeared. The woman whistled a tune as she strutted to the table and sat on the chair where she picked up a brush to stroke through her hair. She wore a shift with stockings and stays and nothing else. He recognized the rather scandalous state of undress.

  A bawdy house?

  He lifted the door a little higher until he saw the woman’s face among vibrant curls of red.

  “Molly?”

  She squealed at the sound of his voice and spun on the chair.

  “Who’s there?” She grabbed a dagger from the table, holding it at arm’s length in his direction.

  Marco lifted the door, straightening so she could view him unimpeded.

  “Cap’n Marco Dante!” Molly squealed. She dropped the dagger to the floor and scrambled out of her chair. He climbed out of the dark, grateful to be in the light again. Before he could turn to assist Arianne, Molly leapt onto him, raining kisses upon his cheeks and brow. “I thought you were dead! They tole me you were ’anged!”

  “Uh, yes.” Marco tried to extricate himself from her limbs, but she clung, squeezing so tight he reckoned she planned to never let go.

  “I’ve missed you, dearie! Good Molly’s missed you so bad it ’urts!”

  Marco patted her back. Over her head he saw Arianne struggle to climb out of the hole in the floor, blowing the candle and dropping it to the floor as she hoisted herself out. She looked at him, rolling her eyes at the sight of Molly wrapped around him. He shrugged his shoulders, hoping she witnessed the plea he sent her to help him.

  It was true, he sought Molly’s favors at one time, but it was long before Arianne made an appearance in his life.

  As soon as there was Arianne, all the Molly’s of his acquaintance vanished. There could be no one but Arianne.

  Marco wished to tell her, but now was not the time. In fact, it seemed the time was always wrong. And now perhaps he was too late.

  Arianne had left someone in Barbados.

  While Marco counted the days in prison, yearning for her, dreaming of her, she had found another lover. How long had she waited? A day? A week?

  His jaw clenched, grinding his teeth with annoyance. How had he come to this? How had the mighty pirate captain fallen? For a woman who did not return the affection in his heart.

  Molly’s tongue thrust into his mouth. He was deep in ruminations, and she caught him unaware. He tasted cheap rum as she kissed him. At one time her kisses roused his desires, but now…

  Nothing.

  He pushed her gently away. She broke the kiss, leaning back to look at him with round, questioning eyes.

  “Now, luv, it’s happy I am to see you, but we’ve no time for that.” He forced a small smile to soften his rejection.

  “Oh, Cap’n,” Molly moaned, reaching down to caress between his legs. “There’s time aplenty.”

  Marco jumped back, grabbing her hands to yank them away, a quick laugh burst from his lips at the absurdity of the situation. Why couldn’t he accept Molly’s advances? Arianne had no need of him. She had a new lover. Now nothing kept him from finding another strumpet to slake his desires.

  Even as jealousy and hurt pierced his heart, he knew he wasn’t ready to give up the fight. He glanced at Arianne, standing with hands on hips, one eyebrow raised as she watched him struggle with Molly’s groping. The cloak’s hood had fallen askew during their jaunt through the tunnel revealing several tendrils of reddish-brown curls amid a bit of dust and cobwebs.

  How his eyes hungered for the sight of Arianne. His heart swelled with joy to be in her presence once again. The sight of her, the scent of her chestnut hair…

  He closed his eyes.

  Not only that. He thought back to the way she composed herself after she discovered herself aboard the Rose. She hadn’t screamed in outrage or fear. She hadn’t cried out in helplessness. She faced him, even with her stomach turning. At her weakest, still she faced him.

  He admired her courage and strength.

  Yes, she was worth fighting for. He would win her heart again.

  Arianne cleared her throat, alerting Molly to her presence. Molly jumped.

  Marco took advantage of her moment of distraction and pulled out of Molly’s gripping embrace.

  “Who’s this, luv?” Molly asked, arching her painted brows.

  “Where’s Angus?” Arianne ignored Molly’s inquiry.

  “Angus?” Molly repeated, glancing between Marco and Arianne. He could see her analyzing them, measuring their relationship, trying to determine how much information to give. “Which Angus would that be, dove?”

  “The one who owned the apothecary shop at the end of this tunnel.” Arianne pointed one elegant finger at the trapdoor.

  “Anything you can tell us, Moll,” Marco said, seeing the woman about to balk, “will be greatly rewarded.” He smiled his best smile for good measure. Molly simpered, grinning like a goose.

  He got the impression his intended monetary reward was being mistaken for something more carnal, but he didn’t correct her. Let her think what she wished for the moment, until they got the information they required and could be underway.

  “’E was arrested two weeks ago,” Molly said.

  “Two weeks? But the shop looks to be abandoned for much longer.”

  “Angus disappeared ’bout a year ago. When ’e came back they arrested ’im.”

  “Why?”

  “I ain’t saying.” Molly stuck out her lower lip like a petulant child. “It’s none of my affair.”

  Arianne opened her mouth to further pry information from the woman, but Marco knew this most likely was the extent of it.

  “I thank ye, Molly-girl,” he said, flashing his smile again. She simpered, right on cue. He tried not to roll his eyes in dismay and regret. Molly could have had a better life, but she chose her path long ago. Years past, he’d offered her a chance to sail with him, he’d promised to take her to a better land. She refused him.

  “Will I see you soon, Cap’n?” Molly asked, stepping after them.

  Marco nodded. “Of course, luv. Give me a few days to get this mess sorted, and I’ll be glad to visit.”

  Molly squealed her delight and pasted a kiss on Marco’s left cheek. Marco patted her lightly on her cheek and left the room, Arianne trailing quietly behind.

  He held tight to Arianne’s hand as he led her down the corridor in the d
irection of the stair. She followed mutely, allowing him to lead. As they neared the stairs, he heard booted feet ascending. A flash of red uniform caught his eyes as soon as the landing came into view.

  Instinct took over. His hand clenched around Arianne’s smaller, daintier one. He opened the nearest door, dragging them both inside.

  Chapter Four

  Arianne followed him into the darkened room. Lucky for them it was unoccupied…at the moment. Marco leaned against the door, pulling her with him, clutching her to him. She allowed the contact since she strained to hear the direction of the footsteps in the corridor. She pressed her ear against the cracked wood of the door. Holding her breath to maintain silence, she heard the booted feet turn in their direction. The floor vibrated as the soldiers walked. She grasped the leather covered hilt of her sword, ready to spring into action the moment they attempted to enter the room. To her great relief, the footsteps continued on.

  Arianne sagged against Marco the moment she realized they were safe. There was no warrant out for her arrest, but Marco… He had escaped prison. If those soldiers recognized him, they would try to take him back to finish his sentence. They would try… Chances were she’d end up with him in prison or dead defending him.

  Marco was trouble.

  Simply being in his presence was vexing.

  Arianne knew if she were wise, she’d leave this room, leave him, and never turn back.

  She peered into his face, seeing only shadows from the barest light coming through the heavy curtains covering the solitary window.

  He stared back at her. Had he watched her while she waited for those soldiers to break down the door? He should have been preparing for battle—

  His head dipped, his lips covered hers, his tongue sweeping in to savage her mouth. The kiss caught her off guard, but she wasted no time in deepening it. She dropped her sword to land with a soft thud at her feet, freeing her hands to twine around his neck. He picked her up, bringing their bodies closer as they kissed harder, deeper.

  She couldn’t get enough of him. Her fingers combed his hair, tangling in the strands around his face. With assistance, she wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing around him until she heard his groan. He pushed her back to the wall, leaning into her, thrusting against her. This time she moaned from the sensations he built within her.

  “Oh, Marco,” she murmured. She had to have him. To hell with the consequences. He was alive! She’d been given a second chance. Would she squander it?

  “I need you, Marco,” she said. “Inside me. Now.”

  “Arianne,” he said, showering kisses on her cheeks, her mouth, her nose. “Arianne…Arianne…”

  She released her arms from his neck, her hands running down his chest, searching for skin. His clothing bound him, denying her entrance, until she found the belt on his waist. She loosened the lacings of his breeches and plunged her hand in, wrapping her fingers around the stiff member she found hidden within.

  “Arianne!” he cried as she stroked, sliding her fingers along the length of him, squeezing.

  He plunged his tongue back into her mouth. She released him to fumble with the lacings on her breeches. After she undid them, she let her legs fall from around his waist so she could shimmy the fabric down. As soon as it hit the floor, Marco scooped her legs back up, grasping her thighs tightly in his hands until she found purchase once again around his hips.

  She reached for him, guiding him to her. When he found her wet tunnel he plunged, entering her fully in one thrust.

  Arianne gasped, her fingers tightening on his shoulders.

  Marco stilled. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

  “How long?”

  “Two years.” Without saying more, she knew he understood. There had been no one but him. There never would be anyone but him. She loved him. Her heart, her body, her soul craved his. How could she survive again without him?

  Slowly this time, he moved within her, sliding in and out, building the passion that already blazed. She moaned as the pressure built.

  While he supported her against the wall, she undid the lacings of her shirt, pulling the fabric away, allowing her breasts to spill free.

  He pumped into her while she fondled her breasts, caressing the tips with her thumb and forefinger. And then his tongue was there, pushing her fingers away, his teeth grazing her nipples as he sucked them into his mouth one at a time.

  She tossed her head against the wall, overcome by the sensation of his teeth and tongue working on her erect nipples. Her hands found his hair, grasping tightly, urging him to continue.

  When he was finished, his lips traveled back up her neck to her ear. He sucked her lobe into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

  And then his hips shoved her against the wall, pounding into her again. Her body vibrated with his movements.

  Her climax came sudden and swiftly, taking her by surprise. Stars burst behind her eyelids, her muscles squeezed tightly around him, clenching, straining to keep him inside her, forever if must be.

  And then he spilled his seed, his primal grunts indicating his climax was only moments behind hers. He throbbed inside of her, heat pouring into her, warming her as she continued to milk him.

  It seemed like forever until her body began to grow limp, her limbs losing function and sliding down. Her legs trembled as she tried to stand and she feared she might collapse.

  Marco held onto her, supporting her, cradling her, kissing her softly along her cheek and forehead.

  “I love you, Arianne.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course, I do,” he said, resting his forehead against hers to stare into her eyes. “I came back for you.”

  “You came back for the ring.”

  “And for you.”

  Arianne nodded, although she knew his words were false. As much as she wished to believe him, it was the passionate moment making him say the words she yearned to hear.

  The sound of floorboards creaking in the corridor took them out of the moment they had created.

  “Can you stand?” Marco asked, glancing at the door. She looked too, wondering if it would open.

  “I think so.” He slowly released her, his hand moving toward the weapon strapped to the belt which he had flung to the floor. Grabbing the sheath of his sword, he stood poised, awaiting the door to open.

  But the footsteps continued on.

  Arianne blew out a breath of air. She’d hate to do battle with his flagstaff waving round and her bum exposed for all to see.

  Quickly, she scooped her breeches up and over her legs, re-lacing the ties as fast as her fingers could work. He did the same.

  “Now where? We need to get out of here, but if the soldiers see you…”

  Arianne had no need to finish that observation. Marco went to the door, slowly opening it to peer into the corridor. She held her breath, waiting for the alarm to be raised.

  He turned back to her, shutting the door behind.

  “Risky,” he said. “I see one soldier, but there must be more. Most likely having a spot o’ fun.”

  “But if they see you…” She hated repeating herself.

  He nodded. “Fun’s over.”

  “Do we have another option besides the most obvious?” Arianne looked pointedly at the door.

  Marco’s lips curved up into a half smile and he nodded his head toward the window. Arianne looked over her shoulder.

  “Jump?” she asked. “And you think we’ll survive the fall?”

  “The fall? Yes, of course. I’ve never heard of anyone dying during a fall. It’s the landing that has a habit of bashing your brains.”

  Arianne narrowed her eyes in response to his sarcasm.

  Marco walked past her to examine the window, opening it to poke his head outside.

  “Ah, see.” He pointed. “No sudden splat on the street below necessary. We can jump onto that roof there.” />
  Arianne peered out. “Marco, you’re mad. That’s at least fifteen feet away. We’ll never make it.”

  “Never say never, Love,” he said, then tapped the tip of her nose with his finger.

  He grabbed the heavy curtains framing the window and gave them a quick tug. They fell to the floor. Marco picked them up and tied the ends together. He grabbed the sheets from the bed and attached those as well. On one end he fastened a loop and wrapped it around the bed post. Hefting the remainder of the curtains, he hoisted the fabric out of the window.

  Arianne looked at the make-shift rope.

  “I thought you said we were jumping?”

  “I never suggested it. You did.” He raised a finger at her to help prove his point. “I agreed it was an option, but I’m not willing to bet in the next five minutes I’ll manage to grow wings to fly us over there. It’s about fifteen feet away, Love. We’d never make it!”

  Arianne’s fingers itched to clench around his neck. Later, she promised herself. For now, she followed as he swung his legs out of the window, grasping the curtain around his arms, and then he disappeared. She leaned out, peering down.

  He looked up. “Seems sturdy enough. Care to join me?”

  “I’ll wait to see what happens,” Arianne said, folding her arms over the window sill and smiling. “Or perhaps I’ll take the stairs. I’m not the one who’s wanted.”

  Marco grinned. “Oh, you’re wanted, sure enough.” Then he winked.

  Arianne rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’ll meet you downstairs, Captain.”

  When Arianne walked into the alley behind the tavern moments later, she was pulled into strong arms and kissed soundly by a most delicious man.

  He leaned back far enough to caress her nose with his.

  “Any trouble?”

  “None.”

  “Good,” Marco said, his voice rumbling through her veins. The sensation of his kiss humming her body. “Now we go back to the Rose.”

  “We can’t. We have to find Angus,” she said, then hesitated. “Unless you’re giving up the search.”

  He shook his head, drawing her back into his embrace. “Angus is in prison. I have no intention of escorting you anywhere near such a place. No, I have men aboard my ship who have, shall we say, certain skills. I believe we may find them more useful in this instance. We’ll wait aboard the Rose.”