David’s meager shelter shadowed their faces, but her body burned as if she were on fire. She fanned her bodice where too much skin lay exposed to the sun. Hot to the touch, her chest had already turned pink. His eyes followed her movements. “You’ll need to shield yourself from the sun, or you’ll burn further.”
A fine idea, if they had more shade available. “How would I do that?”
He glanced up toward his shirt and cocked one brow.
Despite herself, a wicked thrill lanced through her. “You…you’d have me strip down?”
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” His expression of innocence didn’t deceive her. Not when his barely suppressed smile alluded to more.
Sweat trickled down her neck and between her breasts. Did she dare? She sweltered in her heavy blue gown.
“Would you rather blister?” he asked, his tone suggesting this whole discussion was a silly one.
She glanced down at her pinkened skin. She was being silly. What good was propriety when it meant burning up? After all, they were far beyond society’s scorn now. Even the pirate ship had disappeared. Why not be comfortable and free? Why not be bold and adventurous?
“You’re right.” Allowing her skin to blister would do her no good. Clearing her throat, she rose to her knees, unpinned her stomacher, and stopped.
David watched the progress of her fingers intently, his eyes giving off more heat than the sun.
With a twinge of self-consciousness, she clasped the loose fabric to her chest, her heart beating against her fingertips. Perhaps this was a bad idea.
“My apologies.” A smile tugged at his mouth, and he turned to look out at the horizon stretching as far as the eye could see.
Better, but better still, she moved to face away from him, careful not to rock the boat. She fumbled with the fastenings and removed the yards of fabric. Her skin instantly cooled without the added bulk, and her spirits rose. The impulsive, scandalous act of undressing awakened all her senses, and with satisfaction, she sank down on the other side of the tiny boat. In only her stays, shift, petticoats, hose, and shoes, she raised her gown above her head to shade her exposed skin, resting her elbows on the sides of the boat, then basked in the slight breeze that touched her.
“Cooler?” he asked.
Adjusting her position on the hard planks, she nodded. “Yes. Much.” She shifted her grip on the gown in her hands, casting a longer shadow over herself. Across from her, David baked in the sun. His shirt did little to shade more than his face and neck. She worried her lip as guilt gnawed its way through what was left of her scruples. She was half naked, after all.
“What about you?” she finally asked. “Your chest will burn.”
His eyes brightened. “What are you proposing?”
“I can share the shelter of my gown if you’d like.”
With a grin that melted her insides like warm honey, he moved toward her end of the small boat. “How can I refuse such a generous offer?” Settling down beside her, he took up one end of the gown.
She peered out at the sparkling waves, the sun gleaming down from the heavens above, and felt David’s regard as plainly as if he slid his hand along the side of her body.
Amelia couldn’t resist. She peeked over at him.
“You appear to be enjoying yourself,” he said, the expression on his face one of curiosity.
“Why shouldn’t I?” She’d never asked for this affliction. And while she pitied every poor soul affected, she certainly didn’t wish to die. In fact, her predicament had taught her the value of the present. “Every moment is precious because you never know what could happen in the next.” Even now, she couldn’t help but appreciate the blue of the ocean and the welcome company of the man beside her.
David’s eyes softened, and a look of introspection drained away the last of his youthful spirit. “I used to believe that, too.”
“Used to?”
He studied the water around them, and a trace of sadness permeated the air. “At one time, all I cared about was playing my violin.” His lips twitched in a fleeting smile. “I’d travel around town, meet new people, and play my music.”
The reverence in his voice… He must have cherished those times. “What made you stop?”
“My father.” His attention came back to her, his stare so earnest, as if he had to make her understand. “He hated my playing, or rather what he thought it was doing to me.”
“What was it doing?”
“Turning me into a weak man with no concern for the future.” David shook his head. “He wanted me to work for the family business.”
“And what business would that be?”
“Shipping. My grandfather started the company, one of the largest in all of London, and after he passed on, my father took over. Through his leadership, Lamont Shipping thrived, and now he’s looking to his sons to take up the reins.”
“What of your brothers?” Her arm growing tired, she shifted to rest it on the edge of the boat.
“I have only one. James has sailed for as long as I can remember. He’d rather be at sea than running the company at home.”
“Your father has no issue with that?”
“He does. They’ve fought about it for years, but James has done his part to expand the business, establishing more port contacts and recommending better sailing routes. Which leaves me, the family disappointment, for my father to mold into his image.”
She still didn’t understand. “You became a pirate to rebel?”
“Hardly.” Taking her lead, he set his elbow on the rim of the boat, making their shelter smaller, more intimate. “I resisted for years, and I thought my father might finally relent… He didn’t. Especially after I left home for a fortnight to wander the countryside and play my music.” He glanced at her bodice, his gaze remaining for a few long breaths before he adjusted his hold to better shade her skin. “When I returned, my father was livid. To him, my adventure had proven once and for all that something had to be done. We fought with more venom than we ever had, until I grew weary of it. James convinced me to try sailing. He hoped I might enjoy the travel and playing my violin. And for a time, it would appease my father. Perhaps he would see I wasn’t a complete sluggard.”
“Do you enjoy life at sea?”
“In some ways. Going wherever the wind takes me is a kind of freedom, I suppose.”
“But The Wanderer is a pirate ship. I doubt that’s what he had in mind.”
He laughed, soft and low. “You would be right on that count.” David sat back and stared straight ahead. “I sailed on one of my father’s ships, the next one out, in fact, eager to finally be free of his scorn.” A slight scowl dragged his mouth into a frown. “A month into the journey, the ship was captured by pirates. They took all our cargo…and me, a musician, to entertain them.”
Oh. She’d had no idea that the men they’d just left… He must have read her thoughts, for he clarified, “It wasn’t The Wanderer’s crew who captured me.”
Then who? The question was foremost in her mind, but she held her silence. The anguish on David’s face stopped her from saying more.
“Given all that’s happened since then, I’ve begun to wonder if my father is right about me. I don’t deserve his respect.”
The torment evident in his words cut deep. She lifted her free hand to cradle his cheek and urged him to meet her eyes. “Since I’ve met you, you’ve been nothing but kind. You’ve defended me, comforted me, and stood by my side against a whole ship of pirates. They might have pushed me overboard if it hadn’t been for you. You have my undying respect and always will.”
David opened his mouth, likely to argue. She silenced him with a finger on his lips. “Your actions are that of an honorable man, one who deserves the utmost respect from all.”
He drew her hand away. “Amelia—”
“No. No more.” Pressing her mouth to his, she silenced him. His lips were soft, and they moved over hers with hunger and a desperation she wasn’t prepared
for. Frightening and exhilarating, his kisses captivated. Her temperature rose to match the heat of the day, and her insides liquefied into a puddle. What had started as an impetuous act quickly turned into a frenzy of tongues and mouths.
Her fingers slipped into his hair and she leaned closer, her head pleasantly dizzy and her breath escaping with a groan.
David’s lips stilled, and he made a sound halfway between a moan and a curse. He pulled back, and his soulful eyes searched her face, his features drawn in a mask of regret. He still believed himself unworthy. That much was clear. Oh, David. When would he stop seeing himself through his father’s eyes?
Amelia grasped his free hand in hers and intertwined their fingers.
“I will eventually convince you of your integrity and virtue,” she vowed, squeezing his hand for good measure. She only prayed they survived long enough to see the deed done.
Chapter Seven
David drew his violin bow across the strings in soothing strokes. The music, slow and mournful, matched the pensive mood of the boat. The starry sky reminded him of his nights in Madagascar, sleeping in the open. It was a wonder he’d managed to hold onto the scuffed instrument during his days of slavery. Then again, none of the natives had known how to play. His violin would have been of no use to them. Better to threaten to take it from him if he didn’t do as they bid…and force him to be their entertainment. Interesting how an act that had once brought such joy had turned into something so loathsome.
And yet, although he didn’t have the love for music he once had, playing for Amelia was more satisfying than he’d expected. She lay on the other side of the boat, disheveled but beautiful. Wisps of her straight, blond hair had escaped her pins to frame her face, and her clothes were wrinkled. Still, she had never looked so lovely.
Despite the reduced heat of night, her gown remained on the bottom of the boat, the pace of the day eroding her modesty. Amelia closed her eyes with a peaceful look on her face. She stayed that way for the longest time, until he wondered if she’d fallen asleep, but when she opened her eyes, she stared at him in curiosity. “What were you like, before you set sail…when you roamed about, playing your violin?”
Those days seemed like such a long time ago. His chin on the smooth wood, he continued to draw his bow over the strings, the instrument an extension of himself. “Like you, I appreciated the small things in life. The sun, the rain, the sound of my music.” His hand stilled, and he studied the scratches marring the polished wood as his thoughts returned to the many arguments he’d had with his father. “I didn’t worry about the future, how I would make enough money for my old age. I lived minute to minute, traveling all over London, and trusted that I’d find some way to keep from going hungry and a place to rest my head.” He looked at Amelia as she listened intently. “I trusted people. I laughed more.”
She smiled. “I thought trusting people was foolish.”
David smiled back, his mood lifting. “It can be.” He lowered the violin to his lap. “The truth is that I see glimpses of my old self in you, and a part of me wanted to protect you because I couldn’t bear to see someone else lose their love of life.”
Amelia sat up, her head tilted to the side. “And the other part?”
“Other part?”
She flung her hands in the air as if frustrated by the question, but humor glinted in her eyes. “You said that a part of you wanted to protect me because you saw glimpses of yourself in me. What about the other part? I assume it wanted to protect me, too.”
Her cheerful disposition, despite their predicament, was amazing. After two days without food and a day without water, she must be suffering just as he was, and still she teased. A slow smile crossed his lips. “The other part of me was mesmerized by your beauty.”
In the pale moonlight her cheeks pinkened, and her eyes gleamed playfully. “You jest at my expense.”
“Not at all.” He set down the violin and shifted closer. “You’re as lovely as a flower in the stark of winter… Your hair is the color of wheat under the midday sun, and your eyes—”
“Yes, yes. My eyes are like the sea or the sky or some such nonsense,” she quipped with a laugh, the lilting sound like the finest music, better than anything he could ever play.
He sat next to her and stared into those blue-green eyes she made light of. “Very well. You are also extraordinary, forgiving and caring…”
She tilted her head up, and leaned in. “If I’m so very impressive, then kiss me.”
He reared away, damning himself for wanting to give in to her request. “I shouldn’t.”
Amelia moved closer, her hand settling on the side of his face. “Why not? I’m asking you to.”
“You deserve a better man than me.”
“You are a good man, David. Besides,” she scanned the opposite side of the boat and back, “I think it’s safe to say that you are the best man here.”
A chuckle squelched his next breath. “How endearing, and entirely irrelevant.”
Her lips pursed and her shoulders dropped. “We’re likely to die out here, just the two of us.” She lowered her gaze to her knotted fingers. “Before I do, I want to experience as much as I can.”
Sadness and understanding tugged at his heart. “We are not going to die.” At the incredulous look that creased her brow, he shrugged. “Our situation may seem dire, but I’m not ready to give up all hope.” Life held surprises, at least it had for him. Who was to say a ship wouldn’t find them? Merchantmen and pirate alike sailed this route to the West Indies all the time.
She shook her head. “Even if we are saved, what man would dare get close to me once he knew the danger?”
“There will be a man for you someday—”
“You don’t know that,” she insisted, the pain in her voice heartbreaking. “If it were me, I’d stand clear.”
Had her thirst and hunger gone to her head? Any man would be fortunate to have her. “Amelia…” He stopped short at the misery that blanketed her features. No matter what he said, she truly thought no man would ever want her. His gut clenched at the thought. He had to make her understand how special she was. She had to know… He brought his hand to the back of her neck and drew her close, his mouth capturing hers in an emphatic kiss, one he hoped would get through to her where no words could.
They’d shared kisses before, but this time he surrendered. No more thoughts of the bitter man he’d become, of how Amelia deserved better than him. Instead, he immersed himself in the feel of her soft lips, her wet tongue, her sweet flavor.
Her arms circled his neck, and she pressed her chest to his, inflaming his senses even more. He grazed his mouth across her cheek and savored the spot just below her ear. “How can you believe that any man could resist you?” he groaned, his hands aching to explore her curves. He wished nothing more than to taste every succulent inch of her skin.
She shivered, her hands delving into his hair. He grasped one of her wrists and nipped a path along the inside of her arm, holding her still as she squirmed from the sensation.
Her breath quickened as he nibbled her wrist, then each of her fingers in turn. When he bent to her palm, he hesitated. He’d given her the kiss she’d sought. He should stop.
“David?” Amelia searched his face. “Please.” Her hands skimmed over his bare chest in an invitation he should ignore.
“You wanted a kiss.”
“At first,” she agreed. “Now I want…” She drew her plump lower lip between her teeth. “I want more.”
He stifled a moan as his body tightened in response. “You can’t make a request like that without…” He couldn’t finish that thought. No man had that kind of restraint. “How much more?”
“Everything,” she said, her whisper riding the length of his back and settling in his groin.
Dear God.
Her hands slid over his hips, and a blush rose to her cheeks as they came to rest on his bottom. “I may never get another chance.”
Never…anothe
r…chance. His mind couldn’t comprehend as his body demanded he take action. He crushed her to him and took possession of her mouth with the raw need to pleasure her, to pleasure himself, to finally be free of his own discontent. Perhaps, most of all, to live moment to moment as he’d once done.
Blindly, he pulled out the pins securing her hair. The silken strands washed over his fingertips like a spring rainfall. Her slender body so close to his drove every thought from his head. Gentle hands stroked his back, gliding over that portion of skin that had grown thick and lost nearly all sensation. Numb to the world around him. A bit like him.
In comparison, Amelia was light to his darkness. Sweet and innocent to his bitterness. She wanted to experience the intimacy between a man and a woman, and he would oblige, but he’d best be tender. He’d best slow down.
He rested his forehead against hers to catch his breath and attempt to cool his raging blood.
“Is something the matter?” she asked. “Have I done something wrong?”
He choked on a laugh. “No, love. It’s me.” Lifting his head, he stared into her beautiful eyes. “You have me burning up from the inside out.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Aye, but I want to make this as enjoyable for you as possible.” He nuzzled her cheek and throat, and felt a tremor run through her. “I want us to savor every minute.”
She made a noise halfway between a gasp and a moan. “Just don’t savor too long.”
“Impossible.” He kissed a path lower to the rise of her breasts plumped by her stays. The bounty was too luscious to resist.
Her breath hitched. “If we wait too long, we may be interrupted.”
As he lavished attention on her delectable bosom, he plucked at the laces on her stays, eliciting a short pant with each one. “I’m not the least bit concerned.”
“You should be,” she stammered. “It could… It could rain.”
“We can hope. Rain would be welcome.” He rose up to meet her eyes with a quizzical look. “Are you sure you’re urging me to go on? Would you rather I stop?”
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