by Lisa Olech
“I loved my gown, wasn’t it beautiful?”
“Beautiful…” He rolled the tightened tip of her nipple between two fingers.
“And your parents. I adore them. I was afraid they were going to miss the ceremony. Whatever kept them?”
“Wouldn’t tell me.” He brushed his lips down her belly to trace her navel. “Something to do with lightening Tupper’s sentence. They said I’d hear soon enough, and the less I knew, the better I’d like it.” James gave an impatient nip to the inside of Samantha’s thigh before abandoning ship and giving up with a groan. “I’m trying to make love to you.”
“You’re doing a wonderful job.” She smiled and ran her fingertips over his chest.
“And yet you choose now to talk?”
“I’ve missed our talks.” She cupped his face before kissing him. “I missed you.”
James rolled to her side and gathered her in his arms, pulling her half on top of him. She stretched out along him and rested her cheek on his chest. He loved the feel of her naked skin against his. Did anything feel as good?
“You saved me. You brought my family back to me. I’m so grateful. I’ll never forget it.”
“That was Ducky’s gift. He was the one to ride all the way back to South Oxbridge to fetch them and Alicia.” As soon as he mentioned his sister’s name, he knew why Ducky had been so generous with his actions. Here he’d thought him noble for making that long journey again.
Samantha traced her fingertips over his chest, leaving a trail of sparks along his skin. “You told them you met me at a ball.”
“It was the truth. We did meet at a ball.”
“But none of the rest. You didn’t tell them the rest.”
“Not my story to tell.”
Samantha moved against him, lifting her knee to drape her leg across him. Desire surged through him. She raised up on one elbow. “Did I mention how happy I was?”
James tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I do believe you did.”
She sighed gently and looked about the room. “I almost miss the creak and roll of your ship.”
He pulled her fully atop him, running his hands over the flair of her hips and the round firm flesh of her behind. “I’m very content to keep to dry land for a while.”
Samantha kissed the place over his heart. “But you can’t give up your commission for me. That’s an order.”
Each brush of her lips sent a rush of heat to his already impatient cock. “I thought I was the captain?”
“You are. And I’m the captain’s wife.” She gasped as he quickly changed their position. In one smooth move, her tossed her onto her back and settled over her, positioning himself between her thighs. Her chest rose and fell in rapid response. “I promise, no more orders. No more talking… for now. Forgive me?”
* * * *
Tupper drew a great breath of fresh sea air into her lungs. Overhead, the wind caught the sails with a snap as the last bit of canvas was dropped and the Scarlet Night hit open water. A dozen men borrowed into service from Ric Robbins’s own crew had volunteered to man the ship. Strangers, all of them. It felt odd without the others.
MacTavish had decided to keep his balls in dry dock only until he could return safely to Scotland. He’d heard the latest political rumblings and thought the Jacobites could use another good man—to the horror of his son, the duke, of course.
And speaking of horrified sons, wouldn’t she like to hear the explosion when James Steele found out his parents had a hand in her escape? It still tugged at Tupper’s heart to have seen Annalise. How could two be so distant, and yet totally and completely joined? She lifted her hand and rubbed a thumb over her ring. Completely and forever.
Tupper set course with the helmsman whose name she couldn’t recall. There was time enough to learn. She left the quarterdeck and made her way to her favorite spot.
Standing in the bow, she filled her lungs yet again. The moon was high. There was a lot of sea to cross before dawn’s change of the guard found the Lion’s men they’d stripped naked and tied to the dock pier.
Behind her came a soft thump, thump. Her first mate came alongside and handed her a tankard filled to the rim with the finest sweet rum she’d ever stolen. Even navigating with a new crutch, he hadn’t spilled a single drop.
She lifted it to her nose and breathed in its sweet scent. How long had it been? Near a month of forced sobriety? Granted, her head had never been clearer nor her senses more sharp, but there was something to be said about the many benefits of her demon rum.
They raised their mugs and tapped the rims. Tupper tipped the mug to her lips and drank, closing her eyes as the blessed warmth spread its way clear to the tips of her worn boots.
She opened her eyes with a smile and, with a wide hand, tapped her thumb against the side of her chin before squeezing her hand twice.
Bump fixed her with a stare and repeated the sign, ‘Mother’s milk?’ He tapped his thumb against the side of his chin and moved his hand to cover one eye.
‘Only if your mother is a pirate.’
Be sure not to miss Lisa A. Olech’s sequel to Within A Captain’s Hold, Within A Captain’s Treasure, Within A Captain’s Fate, and Within A Captain’s Power:
Within A Captain’s Soul
Read on for a special sneak peek of the next book in the Captains of the Scarlet Night series!
Learn more about Lisa A. Olech
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31711
Chapter 1
Madagascar
1717
William Quinn hated the dark. She’d taken the lantern when she left. He could still smell the spiced honey of her skin and the musk of their sex in the sheets. She’d been a tiger in bed. His flesh burned where her nails had raked his back. He’d lost himself for an hour or two between her smooth dark thighs. He only wished he’d learned her name.
Will lay in the bed and closed his eyes to the darkness. It was easier to visualize the layout of the room from memory this way. The door was to starboard. A three-drawer chest sat a foot to port. His pants were another matter. Where had she tossed them? She’d been in a terrible hurry to put her mouth on him. When she’d stripped him and seen his engorged cock, a smile spread across her shining face as if she’d discovered some long lost treasure. After that, she was a most eager partner.
He found his pants along with the wide blood red sash he wore about his waist. And one boot. All the while, his limited sense was still on high alert. In this darkness, it would be easy to hide and ambush him. It wasn’t as if he’d hear anyone approaching, but having lost his hearing at such a young age, over his lifetime, he’d honed his other senses to razor sharp. Will lifted his nose and gave another sniff. No, he was alone.
The heat along this stretch of the world limited his choice of clothing. Bare chested, he slipped into a tooled leather vest. He patted the breast pocket. His lusty companion wasn’t interested in his winnings from tonight’s poker tables. As the daughter of one of the local pepper merchants, money was not what she desired most. Madagascar pepper was considered black gold along the great treasure route.
Will found his other boot, and sat on the edge of the bed to slip them on his feet. He sat there for a long moment. The girl, whoever she was, hadn’t been interested in his newfound wealth or even knowing who he was. She’d only been interested in one thing. It was the same wherever he went these days. He’d become a novelty. Sex with the silent man. It wasn’t as if he could brag about his conquests. Tell tales of your night in his bed. He wouldn’t bore you with long stories, or shout demands. He was deaf and never learned the basic fundamentals of speech. For some reason that made women eager to spread their legs for him. At least for one night.
Making his way to the door, Will wasn’t surprised to find the public rooms below still doing a brisk business. Time held no meaning to these establishments. Glancing toward the back corner, the poker game still wore on. He was tempte
d to add to his already bulging purse. Tonight had been too easy, but then it had always been a talent of his to read faces. Call it a lucrative byproduct of being deaf. Whether bluffing at cards or dealing with his crew. He could spot a liar at fifty yards.
Long legs carried him quickly through the dangerous dark streets. At more than six foot, Will made an imposing figure. The three-pistol baldric and side cutlass helped. As did the permanent scowl. He pulled a short knife from a leather sheath and carried it at his side. For two reasons. A handy weapon was never a bad idea, and the high polish on the blade gave him the perfect view of anyone trying to approach him from behind.
Will reached the docks without incident and was finally able to breathe easy when he dropped down upon the decks of the Scarlet Night. Home.
‘Captain.’ His first mate, Griffin tapped his shoulder to sign the word before giving Will a sharp salute.
Will returned the salute and replied with a few quick hand signals of his own. ‘Are we ready to leave at first light?’
Griffin nodded. Will scanned the deck in a slow sweep. All looked as it should. The crew was busy loading supplies of food and ale. Barrels of powder and crates of spices were all being stowed properly.
Will slapped Griffin’s shoulder. He was a good man. Smart. Responsible. And a damn fine pirate. He could filet a ship with a single cannon shot down the length of their hull and fight like a man possessed. Will was happy he was on their side.
‘Problems?’
His first mate shook his head. Thankfully, Griffin was quick to pick up on the basic hand signals Will had adapted over the years to help him communicate. Between the use of bells and hand signs and basic gestures, Will had been able to build a crew that followed his strict orders and knew exactly what was asked of them and when. No small feat, but after almost a year at the helm, he’d amassed a fine crew.
He recalled the day he’d become Captain of the Scarlet Night. He and Tupper Quinn had literally stolen their ship back from under the noses of the British Navy. They’d been captured and faced hanging for crimes against the crown, but what the wool-backed Brits hadn’t counted on was the fact that not only did Tupper have friends in high places with deep pockets, but he had a hide thicker than a bull elephant. He still had the scars to prove it.
Three months after their escape, as they made their way down the west coast of Africa, skirting the British at every turn, hiding in every nook and cranny along the rugged coastline, Tupper had broken the news that she no longer wished to be Captain.
‘It’s yer turn now. Ye’ve earned it. The Scarlet Night is in yer blood. She’s yer soul. Hell, ye cut yer teeth on the riggin.’ It’s only right to pass her on to you.’
At first, he’d laughed at her. Who ever heard of a deaf captain? But as time went on Tupper cleverly stepped back little by little. With each new crew member they acquired she planted the seeds of possibility. By giving him more responsibility, more of her power, she opened the path for him to finally take over.
It was only then he learned the real reason why Tupper Quinn was stepping aside.
He turned back to Griffin. ‘How is she?’
‘In her cabin.’
Will made his way below deck to the rear of the ship. He’d swiped two bottles of her favorite rum from the galley on his way. He knocked on the thick wood of her door, but didn’t wait for her to stomp on the floorboards to indicate he could enter.
The captain’s quarters. Oak trimmed and impressive. While he came here daily to work the logs and charts, it was still and always would be Tupper’s quarters.
He found her in the niched bed, half sitting, half reclining. When he placed the bottles on the desk, she opened her eyes.
‘Bump, there you are. Where did you run off to?’
The old nickname made him smile. She was the only one to call him that anymore, and only when they were alone. He’d been given the name when he’d first come aboard. A filthy urchin from the fetid gutters of Port Royal, Jamaica. Imagine a deaf child on a pirate ship. He was always in the wrong place at the wrong time with ropes flying and blocks swinging. Needless to say, he couldn’t hear anyone warning him to look out. It had taken weeks before he developed a sixth sense that something was about to cleave his skull in two. He had more knots and scrapes. Earned the name Bump. As with all nicknames, it stuck and followed him clear into adulthood.
But when Tupper made the decision to give up her commission, they agreed Captain Bump was not a fit name anymore. As it was, when Captain Gavin Quinn, Tupper’s late husband, and former Captain of the Scarlet Night had brought Bump aboard, none knew his surname. An old woman claiming to be his grandmother had pleaded with Gavin to save him from a brutal life. She’d told him his name was William.
Against all advice, Gavin had taken him on as a fledgling cabin boy who could neither speak nor understand and who spent more time those first few days bleeding from the head as performing any duties. The man had saved his life. Will would forever regret not being able to save his. He died in the great earthquake that wiped Port Royal off the earth. Will witnessed the whole horrific event. Helpless and heartbroken. He still remembered that awful day as if it happened yesterday.
It wasn’t until he and the rest of the crew had been arrested by the British that he took on the name Quinn as his own. A gift from Tupper. He’d always believed himself to be her son. She made it official.
‘Pour me some rum, and tell me where you’ve been.’ Tupper swung her legs over to hang off the side of her bed. She was looking more and more frail by the day.
Will handed her a mug. She downed the strong drink in one swallow and held her mug out for more. He refilled it. They repeated this. All the while, he eyed the charts spread out over the desk. There was no question in his mind. His original plan was not going to work.
They’d never reach China in time. He would have to risk crossing paths with the British and navigate the Indian Ocean then through the treacherous Malacca Straights past Singapore.
Tupper started to cough. Her body wracked with each bark. She covered her mouth with a handkerchief to whip the bloody spittle from her mouth. Seeing the blood, Will’s stomach dropped.
He had learned about the progressive medicines now available in China. They were far ahead of western medicines. That’s where they were headed. Why else would they have made the harrowing trip around the Cape of Good Hope. It had been the quickest way, and Will had found the secret to navigating the ‘Cape of Good Storms’ without losing a single life.
It was good hope he was hanging on to. There was one life he was determined not to lose. If he didn’t find a faster route to China, however, Tupper would soon be dead.
Meet the Author
Lisa A. Olech is an artist/writer living in her dream house nestled among the lakes in New England. She loves getting lost in a steamy book, finding the perfect pair of sexy shoes, and hearing the laughter of her men. Being an estrogen island in a sea of testosterone makes her queen. She believes in ghosts, silver linings, the power of a man in a tuxedo, and happy endings. For more information please visit lisaolech.com.
Table of Contents
Cover Copy
Books by Lisa A. Olech
Within A Captain’s Power
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
&
nbsp; Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Within A Captain’s Soul
Chapter 1
Meet the Author
