The Thief and the Rogue

by Rachel Donnelly

  She held her breath as he stood to unbutton his shirt. Her gaze followed the light trail of curls, forming a triangle to his belly. With his shirt removed, his golden skin shone as soft as velvet in the pale light. She shivered at the sight of his broad chest. The sinewy muscles in his arms were equally impressive.

  But when his hands dropped to the buttons of his black breeches, she squeezed her eyes closed tight. Did he plan to sleep beside her buck naked? Her modest sensibilities rebelled at the thought of it. But just the same, a strange sensation crept over her and her heart began to thump.

  A few moments later, when the bunk dipped beneath his weight, she almost squealed in fright, but she managed to swallow it down, though it was difficult with her pulse racing so fast it rushed in her ears. At least if she fainted, she thought wildly, she was already on a soft surface.

  After a time, when he made no move to touch her, she relaxed. A soft sigh escaped her lips. She snuggled her head deeper into her pillow. Safe from ravishment, she smiled gently and prayed for sleep.

  ***

  Kay blinked, attempting to shield her eyes from the piercing light.

  Gracious!

  What time could it be? Apparently her prayers were answered and she’d slept after all. But they had not been answered fully, or she would not still be in this cabin lying in a strange bunk.

  Upon opening her eyes, she saw that her husband was nowhere in sight. She scrambled from the bunk, then hastened to the basin to wash before he returned. After, she walked to the wardrobe where she’d hung several of her gowns the night before. The only good thing about this unholy match was the expansion of her wardrobe—a right to wear dark rich colors she had never been at liberty to don before.

  The trouble was, there’d been no time to shop for a trousseau, thanks to him rushing their agreement—another complaint to add to her long list of grievances.

  She snatched up the first gown her hand touched, a sea-foam green muslin with a flattering crossover bodice. Its long sleeves gathered into bands at intervals, giving her a sense of modest coverage and a feeling of protection. Once dressed, she wound her hair into a simple knot at the base of her neck, then slipped her feet into matching satin slippers.

  A cabin boy appeared shortly there after with her breakfast tray, informing her His Grace was on deck with Captain Pike. Kay didn’t give a jot where Wallshire was as long she didn’t have to suffer his presence, but she thanked the cabin boy just the same, then sat down at the table to sip the strong tea he’d delivered. The bacon and sausage were too much for her churning stomach, so she nibbled at a scone lathered in butter, washing it down with more tea.

  She had just poured herself a second cup when the cabin door opened and in strode her husband. He wore a pleasant smile.

  Kay eyed him suspiciously while murmuring an answering good morn. He grew devastatingly handsome when he smiled, especially with his black hair tousled by the wind and the fresh smell of the sea surrounding him.

  She attempted to ignore the virile magnetism bouncing off of him, but with little success. His bold confidence made him all the more alluring as did his perfectly sculpted brawny body, packed into dark blue breeches where his full sleeved white shirt was absently tucked.

  He took a seat across from her at the table to pour a cup of tea.

  Kay concentrated on her own cup, wondering why he was behaving so charming. No doubt there’d be a price to pay for this unexpected goodwill. A few months ago, she wouldn’t have blinked at such an offering, but recent events had left her jaded.

  “I thought you’d like a tour of the ship since you’ll be calling it home for a while.”

  She wanted to remind him of his promise not to force his company on her more than necessary, but decided it would be too churlish. Putting aside her suspicions, she managed to answer graciously, “Thank you, I’d like that very much.”

  “Good.” He stood, offering one of his bone-melting, toe curling smiles that made her go weak. “Shall we get started?”

  To her surprise, he ushered her to the very bowels of the ship during their tour. She saw where the sailors slept in hammocks, the long trestle tables where they ate their meals and drank their rations of rum. He even showed her the magazine where the cannon balls for the twenty-six pounders were piled beside the barrels of gunpowder.

  To view the galley they traveled to another part of the ship, closer to the bow. It appeared small, with only one wooden work table for Henri, the cook. It was a wonder anyone could cook in such conditions. Indeed—it was a marvel. A large stovepipe ran up through the deck where the smoke from the stove was funneled. Pots and pans hung from the creaking rafters above. Baskets, barrels, and jugs lay scattered about the floor.

  Kay was so impressed at Henri’s fortitude, she took the opportunity to compliment and thank him for the delicacies he’d provided the night before.

  Color spread from his round cheeks, lighting up his doorknob shaped nose. “I am not use to cooking in a rocking cradle, but I do my best.”

  “Oh? Where do you usually cook?”

  “I work before in the kitchens of Baron Rothschild,” he said with much dignity. “But the Duke made me a generous offer. He assured me a competent staff and so, I have agreed to come.”

  Kay warmed with pleasure to learn he’d be returning with them to Wallshire Manor. She liked his round face, and merry dark eyes, though she wondered how the rest of the staff would cope with his thick accent and curt manners. It suddenly struck her that as lady of the household, she’d be the one dealing with any domestic unrest.

  Nevertheless, she offered him a gracious smile. “I’m very pleased that you did. Our dinner last night was exquisite.”

  “That’s enough flattery for now,” The Duke said, urging her forward. “I’m not paying him another shilling, no matter how good his food is.”

  “Your dinner this night will eclipse anything you have eaten in Paris,” Henri called after them.

  They appeared quite the happy young couple as they made their way down the length of the ship. But had anyone looked closer, they’d have seen how she accepted the arm he offered with a feather light touch—how she stiffened when his hard thigh chanced to brush against her skirt.

  When they reached the upper deck, they stopped at the rail to enjoy the sunshine and the sparkling depths of the sea.

  Now that the tour had ended, Kay found little to say to her guide, standing beside her lost in thought, staring out at the blueness beyond. The harsh words they’d exchanged the night before had done much to trample a path toward peace. It would take a great deal of goodwill on his part to remove the resentment and hostility she felt toward him. In her mind, he’d always be an unconscionable rake.

  He said the Galloways were to blame for the scandal, yet he gave no evidence to make her believe this was so. On the other hand, she knew no details, only the whispering gossip concerning it. It was hard to make a proper judgment. Perhaps, the truth lay somewhere in between.

  Feeling the heat of his regard, she turned away from the musky ocean spray, flashing him a quick look under her lashes.

  The intensity of his gold gaze sucked the breath from her lungs.

  Her pulse raced.

  She took a step away, fearing he might kiss her again—like he had that night in the carriage. That kiss had put a spell on her for days, leaving her with a feeling of dissatisfaction and a restless yearning she’d found hard to shake. She never wanted to feel that way again, at least not about him.

  A slow smile spread over his face. “You’ve had an unconventional upbringing haven’t you, Kay?”

  She shrugged, wondering where his questioning was leading. “I wouldn’t call it unconventional, unusual perhaps. I was raised by my uncles after my father died, but my Grandmere visited us often to oversee my education.”

  “Ah, yes, the French are very liberal when it comes to the freedom of their women. I’d be curious to know what other skills you’ve acquired while abroad.”


  She flushed, shifting uncomfortably. There was an edge to his tone, an implication to his words she did not like. She’d hoped, since he’d made no passionate overtures thus far, she’d escaped facing the obligations of a true marriage. Fearing she’d counted her blessings too soon, her limbs began to quake, but she put on a brave face.

  “My experiences abroad were many.” She shrugged. “But I shall always cherish Vienna the most.”

  “Ah yes, where you met the Count. First love is a powerful thing.” He flashed a wicked smile. “But don’t fret, I’ll do my best to help you to forget him.”

  The Count wasn’t the reason she would always cherish Vienna, ‘twas the city itself, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. So she said very slowly and distinctly, “I very much doubt that.”

  “We shall see.” He lifted one finger to run it down the side of her cheek. A brief touch that left her tingling. “But let’s not argue about it now. Henri has prepared tea and its getting cold.” He indicated the direction of their cabin with a flourish of his hand. “After you, Madam.”

  He stopped in the cabin doorway, leaning against the frame casually. “I’m afraid I have matters to discuss with Mr. Pike, so I can’t join you. But don’t worry, I won’t be long. We’ll celebrate our nuptials over dinner.”

  Kay shot him a fearful glance, wondering what he meant by that.

  “You do like champagne, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  When he’d gone, she closed the cabin door, then leaned against it, releasing a long sigh of relief.

  For a moment, she’d feared he had something other than a toast in mind.

  ***

  Hunter prowled the deck in an attempt to rein in his rising temper, but the buffeting wind did little to cool his ire. He halted to lean against the rail, raking one hand roughly through his hair. How dare she play the injured victim when he’d been more than lenient with her!

  What rankled most was the haughty disdain she so freely leveled on him one moment, then, with fearful glances, labeled him a monster the next.

  Her injured looks and shy innocence were just as counterfeit. Any other woman would be grateful he’d made them his wife—a Duchess. Hell! He’d saved her from Galloway for bloody sake.

  If she thought to deny him his husbandly rights, she was much mistaken. He felt no guilt on that score. She’d made it quite clear in Vienna of her experience betwixt the sheets, and he meant to sample those charms she had so freely given to others. It was the least she could do to compensate for her crimes.

  He couldn’t help contemplating what treasures lay in store for him. Anticipation was half the pleasure, but he’d had enough imagining. The need to take her was too great. The very sight of her made him sweat.

  He refused to spend another night like the last. It had taken a long time to block out her warm womanly form beside him. He’d lain awake listening to her gentle breathing, his loins aching with want. It had all but driven him mad.

  He had no taste for rape. ‘Twas important to plan his seduction with care, take time in the execution. He hoped to enjoy every moment of the consummation of this marriage.

  This morn he’d tried to rectify the bad course he’d set. And his ploy appeared to be working. There’d been no more outbursts of temper from his lovely new wife, in fact, she seemed to enjoy his unconventional tour of the ship. Though she sought to deny it, a powerful attraction existed between them. And, he planned to take every advantage of it.

  The road to seduction would not be easy, but he looked forward to the challenge.

  In the meantime he had business to attend to.

  With that in mind, he strode to Mr. Pike at the helm of the ship to check their progress. Pike was on loan from the ship builder in Plymouth to instruct and familiarize him with the Isabella’s particular idiosyncrasies. This was Alex’s idea, of course. He trusted no ship builders but his own. He’d left for London to oversee the loading of two of his own ships bound for the colonies. Just as well. Hunter didn’t relish side-stepping Alex’s dark looks while he strove to tame the little vixen in his cabin.

  And tame her he would.

  Beginning with the consummation of their vows.

  Tonight he’d see the deed done, one way or another.

  Chapter Ten

  Kay paced every inch of the cabin after dressing for dinner, fretting over what the evening held in store for her. Her husband’s change of temper had thrown her off guard that morn. Why was he being so very kind, sooo… solicitous all of a sudden?

  What was he up to?

  Whatever the reason for his unexpected consideration, she mustn’t let her guard down—allow herself to be seduced by his charm. Though this was easier said than done, considering the sight of him could reduce her to a babbling, quivering mass.

  She’d done her best to appear as unattractive as possible, pinning her hair in a severe knot, away from her freshly scrubbed cheeks, and donning a gown that covered every inch of her body from head to toe. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to reach all of the hooks at the back of the blue muslin gown.

  The air from the half opened window rushing across her bare skin each time she turned in her pacing, reminded her of how vulnerable she was—trapped on his ship, far from civilized society and the amenities that went with it, at the mercy of an unscrupulous rake.

  Why there wasn’t even a bath tub! How did he expect her to function without a maid or a proper toilet? She’d done her best with the small basin provided, but it wasn’t the same as a good long soak in a tub. Perhaps she could convince him to take a room when they docked in Naples. It would be the considerate thing to do for a new bride, but then he wasn’t a considerate husband, was he? He wasn’t a real husband at all.

  The click of the latch on the cabin door spun her around.

  Her heart did a jig at the sight of her husband’s wind freshened appearance. The mist had turned his coal black hair to a riot of waves, one lock escaping to dangle across his forehead in a loose curl. He seemed so big, so rugged, not at all the type of man she was accustomed to. His brawny presence left her tongue-tied. All thoughts of requesting help with her gown fled.

  “Good evening, Kay,” he drawled. Then he smiled—a real smile with no malice or mockery to dilute its brilliance. A small dimple creased the side of his cheek, a feature she’d viewed once before, and yet, it produced the same devastating effect, leaving her without a thought in her head.

  When she realized she was staring, she quickly lowered her gaze, folding her hands in front of her. What was wrong with her? She’d spent her life in the company of men. Why did he have such a paralyzing effect on her? Or was it wariness that froze her tongue? She hated that her usual trusting nature had been eroded, crumbling like a day old muffin, but recent encounters had left her wary of his motives.

  Whatever the reason, she knew she had to overcome it. If she didn’t assert herself now, all would be lost. He would forever have the upper hand. With that in mind, she took a long deep breath and raised her gaze to his. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  He tilted his head in a considering gesture. “I think you should call me Hunter when we’re alone, don’t you.”

  “Very well… Hunter.” His name felt far too intimate sliding over her tongue. She moved to the table to pour herself a goblet of red wine to boost her courage. She had a feeling she was going to need all she could get.

  The brush of his warm fingers against her back made her gasp.

  “You should have told me you needed help with your gown. Ian’s feet would fail him and his tongue drop into the soup, if he spied so much skin. I can’t afford to replace a well trained cabin boy should he trip and break his skinny neck.” After his fingers had done their work, he gave her a gentle pat on the back.

  “Thank you,” she said primly, attempting to step round him.

  He took her by the hands, pulling her close. “You’re trembling. Are you cold?”

  Despite the
warmth of his hands on her waist, she felt a shudder run through her. “No,” she blurted. “I’m fine, thank you.” Her gaze strayed unbidden to his lips. She swallowed convulsively then made to go, but he pulled her closer still. Though she knew what he meant to do and felt terrified at the result, she felt powerless to stop him. Truth be told, she didn’t want to stop him. His spell was so strong and her body so weak.

  His silken lips felt warm and persuasive against hers, gentle and caressing at first, then gradually more insistent. Her thoughts flew, then grew confused. She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t think. The steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips where she’d placed her hands to ward him off, the fresh sea mist swirling around him, enticed her to another place. When his tongue delved deep into her mouth, a sweet stab pierced through to her center. She drew him closer, lifting her arms around his neck, pressing her body tighter to his, wanting more of the delicious sensations his mouth had to offer.

  When he dipped his hand to claim one of her breasts inside her gown, she half-awakened from the spell, thinking vaguely she should stop him. But it was only a half-hearted thought. She didn’t want him to stop. And she could not bring herself to stop—his seductive touch and hot mouth held her entranced. A tangle of frenzied new sensations rushed through her. There was only him and the driving need he aroused inside her.

  He began placing tiny kisses along her neck. “You are so damn beautiful, do you know that?” He continued trailing soft kisses downward to one exposed breast to tease her nipple with his tongue.

  She clung to him, feeling as though her whole body were aflame. Her loins began to pulse then throb. She felt an irresistible urge to rub her body against his. This came as such a shock, she surfaced from the primal pool of ecstasy she’d been slowly sinking in. She lowered her hands to his shoulders to draw away.