She let him lead her along the deck. “Thank you. I think.”
She let him have his moment of triumph. Perhaps then he wouldn’t notice that her silly self had only shown up when he’d asked probing questions.
A pity she couldn’t confront him, too. But as long as he didn’t realize how much she did know, she’d have an easier time questioning him.
“Why has the navy allowed you access to the xebec?” she asked, as they skirted the side of the ship facing away from land. They passed several cannon set into wooden blocks before rounding the mainmast. “Surely they didn’t think it would help you in your treaty efforts.”
“They thought I could suggest modifications. My father’s company used to design cannon for ships, you see.”
“Used to?” she prodded.
“Now that he’s dead, the company is rudderless. So to speak.”
“And you have no interest in designing cannon.”
He smiled ruefully. “Actually, I have no aptitude for it. While Father was building his company, I was off fighting the Barbary pirates. After I came home, I did try my hand at it, but…” He shrugged. “I’d rather fire a cannon than make one. Then the war with England began, and I—”
“Jumped at the chance to fight again.”
He arched one eyebrow. “You could say that.”
“Yet you’re no longer fighting.” She ventured a probing comment. “These days you deal with villains.”
His gaze shot to her, sharply focused and intent. “What do you mean?”
“The pirates, of course. And the treaties.”
“Right.” His expression grew shuttered. “But negotiating a treaty is a battle, too.”
“So how long have you been negotiating these treaties? I thought the British routed most of the Barbarys in Algeria a couple of years ago. Yet if this xebec-frigate showed up near Spain—”
“You sure are fascinated by those damned pirates.”
She refused to let him change the subject. “I’m fascinated by anything more exciting than my own tedious life. Like your treaties.”
“And my ‘adventures.’” Eyes darkening, he caught her by the hand and tried to pull her into his embrace.
As her pulse beat erratically, she broke free of him. “Not here. Mrs. Harris can see us.”
“No, she can’t. This side of the frigate is hidden from the docks.”
A little thrill skittered down her spine. Though he was only trying to distract her from her questions, she couldn’t help being tempted. And being aboard this dratted pirate ship actually enhanced the gruff major’s romantic appeal.
She backed away along the deck. “Nonetheless, we must limit ourselves to the right sort of adventures.”
“What sort might that be?”
“The ride to the docks. The little jaunt out here by dinghy.” She managed a teasing smile. “The tour of the xebec.”
He hunted her like a corsair running down a brig at sea. “Pretty tame adventures, wouldn’t you say?”
Spotting a hatch nearby, she darted toward it. “You haven’t finished showing me the frigate, and I’m dying to see what it’s like belowdecks.”
“I thought your chaperone told you not to go below,” he said, but his voice held an odd edge.
She reached the hatch and opened it. “I didn’t hear her say a thing,” she joked. “It was far too windy.”
He didn’t laugh. “Stay right there, Amelia.” He strode across the deck toward her. “Don’t you dare climb down that ladder.”
She peered into the dark hatchway. “Come now, Lucas, I just want to—”
Grabbing her arm, he yanked her back from the gaping hole. “No. You’re not going down there, damn it!”
“Whyever not?” She swung around to face him, but her words died on her lips.
His face was the ash white of the ship’s sails, and his eyes were fixed on the black hole as if it represented the gates to hell.
“Lucas?” she said in a low voice.
He didn’t seem to hear her, and his fingers dug into her arm like talons.
“Lucas!” she said more sharply. “You’re hurting me.”
He jerked, then hastily released her arm. “We’re not going below.” Pivoting on his heel, he strode toward the quarterdeck. “But I’ll show you the rest of the ship up here if you want.”
She followed him. “Why don’t you want to go belowdecks?”
“I just don’t want you going down there,” he snapped as he passed through the door beneath the quarterdeck.
She hurried in after him. They stood in a modest half circle of a room that had probably served as the captain’s cabin.
“That’s balderdash,” she said. As he whirled to face her, she added, “I saw the expression on your face. You looked as if you thought the devil himself lived belowdecks.”
His jaw went taut. “You’re imagining things.”
“I most certainly am not. I could plainly see that you—”
He marched up to her and kissed her hard.
When he drew back, her blood pounded fast and furious. She stared at him in dazed surprise. “What was that for?”
“To shut you up.” Then, with eyes smoldering, he caught her head in his powerful hands, sending her bonnet tumbling. “But this, ” he growled, “is for me.”
The kiss wasn’t so much hard as thorough. And searing. And demanding. He took control of her lips as if they belonged to him, as if he was laying claim to her.
She tried to remind herself that he wasn’t, but Lord, the man could kiss! He conquered her mouth as surely as any corsair, plunging his tongue deep inside in the intimate way he’d shown her last night, then repeating the outrageous motion with bold, eager strokes.
She kissed him back, tangling her tongue wildly with his. He tasted of coffee and smelled of the sea, an irresistibly exotic combination.
But as his kiss grew more fierce, she tore free and turned her head away in an attempt to catch her breath…and regain her sanity. That’s when she saw Mrs. Harris pacing the shore through an open porthole.
Mrs. Harris couldn’t see them in the darkened cabin, but that didn’t register until after Amelia muttered a hoarse cry and wriggled from his grasp.
Trying to restore control over her reckless impulses, she backed away from him. “I did not give you permission to kiss me.”
He stalked her mercilessly, his intention amply clear. “You gave me permission last night.”
“That was different.”
Anger flared in his face. “Because we’re truly alone, and you can’t call out for an Englishman to protect you from the American savage if he gets too rowdy?”
She came up hard against the cabin wall and groaned. Before she could escape, he was on her, his arms bracketing her body. “You claimed to want adventures, and I’m happy to oblige.” He leaned in close, his eyes alight. “But that was just hogwash, wasn’t it? You only want what you can control. And you can’t control me .”
She glared at him. “Are you sure about that?”
Oh, dear, not the thing to say to a furious male who imagined that she and her countrymen were trying to subjugate him.
Then again, he seemed to reveal more when he was under the influence of his temper…or his passions.
With a toss of her head that she hoped looked nonchalant, she added, “I think I’ve controlled you fairly well until now.”
She held her breath for his answer, wondering if taunting a “savage” was sheer madness.
But instead of looking angry, he looked thoughtful. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“There’s no doubt about that,” she shot back.
To her shock, he actually smiled before bending in close to press his mouth to her ear. “The sword. You did do it on purpose, didn’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“This morning in your breakfast room, when you started stroking my mameluke. All that talk about how hard my sword was—you knew the whole time what your
sly words were doing to me.”
Her stomach sank. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”
“You deliberately caressed my sword and talked about rubbings and sheaths to arouse me and then leave me in that state with no hope of relief.”
“Don’t be ridic—”
“And I reacted like any man. The way you knew I would, didn’t you?” He breathed heavily in her ear, but since she couldn’t see his eyes, she didn’t know if it was with anger…or something else. Whatever it was, having him so close—and so threatening—thrilled her.
And made her bold. She turned her head to meet his gaze. “If you were affected, it’s only because your mind is sunk in depravity.”
His eyes glittered. “You started it, so you’re the one whose mind is sunk in depravity.” He lifted his hand to stroke her hair. “You’re quite the little Delilah, aren’t you? Yet I’d swear you’ve never had a man in your bed.”
“Certainly not!” She tried to push free, but he held her fast against the wall.
“Then how did you know just what to do this morning, to bring a man to his knees without so much as touching him?”
“I…I guessed, that’s all.”
“You guessed,” he said skeptically. He kissed her ear, then nibbled the lobe. When he had the audacity to lave the inside with his tongue, she shivered delightfully. Lord, to think that ears could be so sensitive!
Then he was skating his mouth along her neck, down to the furiously beating pulse at her throat, which he kissed into a fever pitch. “Come now, Amelia, you’re too much an innocent to have guessed any such thing. So how did you know what to do? Did that stepmother of yours teach you how to—”
“Hardly,” she said with a shaky laugh. The very idea of Dolly teaching her how to seduce a man was outrageous.
He pressed a kiss into the hollow of her throat, then moved lower. “Someone taught you. And since she’s a widow—”
“I read a book,” she blurted out.
He drew back to stare at her. “A book?”
She blushed. “About the Barbary harems. And what goes on in them.”
He arched one thick eyebrow. “You mean one of those silly collections some Englishman cobbled together to titillate fools? Why would you read such claptrap?”
She thrust out her chin. “Curiosity, of course. How else is a sheltered young woman supposed to learn the truth about…certain matters?”
He laughed outright. “You think you can get the truth from harem tales? Half of them are lies, and the other half, wild exaggerations.”
Having him laugh at her was infuriating. “They were certainly truthful about how to rouse a man’s ‘sword,’ judging from how easy I found it to tease you .”
His amusement faded to a sudden dark intent. “Good point.” He bent his head to her mouth, but halted a breath away. “So you’re curious about what goes on in a harem, are you?”
“Yes,” she cautiously admitted.
“Then you should have your curiosity satisfied.”
That put her on her guard. “What do you mean?”
Eyes gleaming, he dropped his hand to rest on her waist. “Seems to me you’ve been awfully obliging today. You’ve been downright generous with the society lessons—telling me not to cuss or open my coat, and not to sit down even when you deliberately provoked me into…exposing myself, if you will.”
The edge in his voice set loose a thousand butterflies in her belly.
His hand slid up along her ribs. “And since our agreement was that I’d give you adventures in exchange for your lessons, I should take care of that right now.”
Her heart raced, and she had to struggle to answer. “It’s fine, really. Showing me this ship is adventure enough.”
“To repay you for all your many kindnesses?” he said, definite sarcasm in his voice. “Hardly.”
To her utter shock, he covered her breast with his hand.
“Lucas!” She grabbed his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re curious about what the Barbarys do with their captives, so I’m showing you.”
“If you think I’ll let you ruin me—”
“It doesn’t have to go that far.” A provoking smile played about his lips. “You can keep your innocence and still taste what a captive experiences.” He moved his hand over her breast, slowly, sensually.
“But—”
He sealed her mouth with his, kissing her with all the fervor and intensity of a man devouring his last meal. And she could no more resist the kiss than the earth could resist the pull of the sun.
Especially when he caressed her breast with a delicious deftness that shattered all her resistance into bits.
Lord help her. She’d imagined this very thing a hundred times. From the moment she first became aware that parts of her body were rather pleasurable to touch, she’d thought about what it would be like to have a man touch them.
She’d even touched herself a few times, which had only whetted her appetite for more. But she’d known she wouldn’t get more until she married, because no English gentleman would ever dare. Perhaps that was why Lucas’s doing it seemed so exciting and reckless.
“Let me give you a real adventure,” he said in a guttural voice, “not one you’d have to read about.”
The prospect of having him touch her even more intimately set loose a flurry of wild emotions—fear, excitement…anticipation. Oh, she was truly wicked.
Not to mention reckless. In here, he could do anything to her that he wanted. Especially now that they’d moved out of Mrs. Harris’s line of sight.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” she said breathlessly, though she didn’t stay his hand.
“Would any adventure worth its salt be wise?”
“I suppose not.” She had trouble thinking with his fondling her, with his hot mouth brushing kisses along her neck…And really, would it be so bad to engage in one measly…intimate…adventure?
She glanced toward the porthole. If she screamed, Mrs. Harris would surely rescue her, fear of water or no.
He must have taken her silence as consent, because he tugged loose the opaque fichu she wore tucked into her day dress.
“Lucas, I haven’t yet agreed—”
“But you want to. I can see it in your face.” The devilishly clever scoundrel smiled. “I know how much you like having control. So when you say stop, I’ll stop. The adventure will end there.”
He was offering her a safe adventure. Or the safest one she was likely to have. And if he broke the rules he was setting forth, she’d fight him tooth and nail while screaming for Mrs. Harris.
How could she possibly lose?
Chapter Nine
Dear Cousin,
Have you seen the enclosed newspaper account of last night’s ball? It mentions the major most unfavorably. I didn’t realize he had such volatile emotions. Under the circumstances, it’s very worrying. Amelia isn’t exactly the calmest of individuals herself.
Gratefully yours,
Charlotte
All right.” Amelia prayed she hadn’t gone insane. “Give me an adventure. Show me how a Barbary pirate would treat his captive.”
Fire leaped in his face seconds before he seized her mouth again, kissing her with slow, marauding thrusts of his tongue. Then he drew back. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Awfully insolent for a captive, aren’t you?”
Although she scowled, she did as he’d asked. But when she felt him knot her own fichu around her wrists, she panicked. “I did not agree to—”
“I have to secure my captive,” he said in that honeyed drawl that always made her stomach flip over. “Any self-respecting Barbary pirate would.”
The instant thrill that shot through her annoyed her. “So help me, Lucas,” she retorted, as he turned her to face him, “if you ruin me, I’ll make you regret you ever came near me.”
“I’ve no doubt of that, darlin’. But there’s a hell of
a lot of room for adventure between kissing and ruin.” He smiled. “Besides, it’s not even tight.”
Skeptical, she tested her bonds. Sure enough, he’d tied it so loosely that a little wriggling would free her.
If she wanted to be free. Which she didn’t. Because the surge of excitement flowing through her at the thought of being bound and at his mercy was like a drug searing her veins.
She forcibly reminded herself of her purpose. “Have you ever done this before?” she asked, struggling to control her wayward breathing.
“What do you mean?” He stripped off his gloves with a ruthless efficiency that would make any captor proud.
Her blood pounded in her ears. “Tried to take a woman captive.” She kept her tone light, though she well remembered the words “escape capture” in his notes about Dolly.
He looked bemused. “Sorry, but it’s my first time playing the Barbary pirate. Why? Am I doing it wrong?”
“No. You seem very adept at imprisoning a woman.” That was as close as she dared come to referring to Dolly’s possible “escape.”
He gave her a wicked smile. “I’m sailing uncharted waters.” His voice roughened. “I’ve been sailing uncharted waters from the minute I met you, darlin’.”
The man certainly had a way with words. And when he tossed his gloves aside, a shiver of anticipation rippled down her spine.
“But I’m pretty sure of what a pirate should do next,” he said as he reached to untie her bodice ribbons. “He’d want to examine his spoils.”
“His s-spoils?” She gave a nervous laugh.
He arched one eyebrow. “You made me take your lessons seriously. Now you have to take the adventure seriously.”
If he only knew how “seriously” this adventure was affecting her! “Go on. The pirate is examining his ‘spoils’—which I apparently am.”
“Damned right. But he’d want a better view.”
When he thrust his hand scandalously inside her bodice to unknot the upper ties of her corset and her chemise, she swallowed hard. Then he dragged her gown, corset, and chemise off her shoulders, restraining her further but freeing her breasts from their confines. His heated gaze dropped to her breasts.
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