Tides of Passion

by Sara Orwig

  “What a passionate kitten you are!” he murmured, laughing softly. “You’re out of my dreams…how I’ve wanted you!”

  And then his hands were everywhere, stroking, exploring with arrogant leisure, moving over her intimately, seeking to set her aflame. The cabin spun, and she was overpowered by sensation.

  “Ah, Quita, you’re perfection!” He shifted above her, and with deliberation he parted her legs and lowered his weight.

  Pain sent a rapier sharpness through her. Her eyes flew wide as a glimmer of reality penetrated her passion-heavy mind. “No!” she gasped.

  “You are virginal?” Josh exclaimed, pausing to stare at her in wonder. He saw the answer in her eyes, and realized her innocence had not been feigned. His body’s clamorings were too strong to wait or stop, so he moved slowly.

  “Yes, I am!” she gasped, trying to escape his weight and the pain. “You’re hurting me…”

  His mouth covered hers, and his hands began to move insistently until her hips began to move against his.

  When he couldn’t wait longer, he thrust his maleness deeply into her warmth, invading her softness, taking her, and Lianna felt torn asunder as pain racked her. A cry was muffled by one of his kisses. Then slowly he moved, filling her, and as he took her, she knew his possession of her would last for eternity. Part of her body, heart, and soul would forever belong to Captain Joshua Raven.

  As the pain slowly gave way to growing sensuality and need, she moved beneath him. A sense of urgency ultimately clasped her loins, making her writhe and whimper, impaled by his hardness. His body carried her beyond the brink of reason and reality and when a shuddering release broke over her, he cried her name softly. His weight lowered, warm and heavy onto her.

  He shifted, pulling her close as he lay beside her, fitting her to his warmth, stroking her hair, murmuring to her while he kissed her forehead. Through her blurred senses, at his continual languid caresses and low, tender words of endearment, Lianna felt loved and cherished. She timidly stroked his broad shoulders, feeling happy despite the realization that something was terribly amiss. But she refused to let discord intrude on the precious moment.

  The big, hard body that cradled her against its warmth was fulfillment. She ached; the sharp pain had become a dull throb. The cabin swam if she opened her eyes, so she closed them to a merciful darkness while she fitted closer to Josh’s broad chest. Her ear lay against his heart, her cheek on his heated, damp flesh. His big hand stroked her long hair.

  “Ah, love, how perfect you are. Quita, we shall deal well together, you and I. You are so much more than I expected…so beautiful…both shy and passionate…” He turned to kiss her brow.

  With her eyes closed she clung to his strong shoulder while she inhaled the scent of his skin. Her fingers toyed with a curl on his chest. The candles were extinguished, the lantern’s light gone. In place of their golden glow, silvery moonbeams fell through the small panes of glass, bathing the bed in their candescence, giving a silver luster to a male body that looked like a marble statue of Adonis. Only, Lianna knew so well, the body was not cold marble, but taut, hot, demanding flesh.

  Her skin still burned from his fingers, from his mouth; exquisite tingles sparked along her nerves as she thought of the past hour. Or had it been hours? Forever? When had she not known Joshua Raven? She laughed softly.

  His fingers caught her chin and tilting her face upward he met her eyes with his.

  “Little Quita, why the laugh?”

  She trailed her finger across his firm jaw. “It is not Quita, sir.”

  “Eh? What, if not Quita?”

  “Lianna.”

  “Lianna? Quita Lianna Bencaria? Go to sleep, sweet one.” His arm pulled her to his length. “Your brain will clear with the dawn.”

  Dimly she thought of Quita, sailing on another ship toward Spain, toward a husband who was cruel and wealthy. And Edwin, Edwin journeying home in her father’s coach, sleeping at the inn while she sailed away in the arms of Joshua Raven. Why couldn’t it be Edwin who held her instead of this arrogant stranger who merely lusted after her flesh? Edwin, who had cared for her truly…“Edwin,” she breathed.

  She felt the muscles tense beneath her before she realized she had spoken the name aloud. Too late, Captain Raven looked down at her. His broad, powerful shoulders loomed over her, his hips pressing her into the bed. Moonbeams splashed across the bulge of his muscles, the thick tangled locks of his brown hair. Josh’s broad hand drifted lightly to her throat, lying still over the lifebeat of her pulse.

  “Love, it is Josh. Joshua Raven.”

  His tone of voice brought a howling blizzard of ice and snow into the cabin. With a lion’s head engraved on everything in the cabin, now he wanted his stamp on her soul. Her head ached and swam, yet she instinctively sensed the danger, the contained fury in his low voice. “Say my name, love.”

  “Joshua,” she said sweetly, and reached up to stroke his head. She locked her fingers in his thick hair and smiled, holding her breath.

  His deep voice sent its own strong fingers over her waiting nerves. “You were a virgin. That’s good, because otherwise I would teach you the foul consequences of calling me by a former lover’s name. I do not want to be called another man’s name, Quita,” he said with quiet force, and she knew he had a particularly violent distaste for such a mistake.

  “Josh…” she repeated gently.

  “Ah.” He let out his breath with satisfaction and sank down again to draw her to his side. One muscled leg lay across hers as his arm circled her waist to hold her. “Sleep, love. You have earned your rest.”

  It was the last conscious thing Lianna knew; wine took its final toll and oblivion closed over her boneless limbs.

  The next morning, the first thing Lianna saw was the smooth planking overhead. Disoriented, she stared at the polished oak boards. She should be peering up at the plastered white ceiling of her room. And with that thought came the memory of last night. She was not alone. A warm body was fitted against hers. The bed moved, rocking gently, rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

  The creaking and groaning of timbers made a continual noise, mingling with a dim slap of waves against the hull. Light streamed through panes of glass, spilling over the bunk. Her body ached, hurting in places that she hadn’t known existed; her head throbbed. She looked down at her bare breasts, and below them, a muscled brown arm sprinkled with short dark hairs clasped her waist.

  A sudden disbelief at what had transpired overwhelmed her. She sat up violently, turned and stared at the man stretched beside her.

  Long dark lashes lightly touched his face. One arm was flung over his head and his bare chest rose and fell with steady breathing. The white sheet fell about her hips and lay across his loins, shaping his male body with a clarity that made her cheeks burn.

  Memories made her reel, almost collapse with shame. Just as quickly, shame was replaced by an all-consuming, savage fury at the manner in which she had been used.

  Then the captain’s long lashes fluttered open and his eyes gazed at her.

  “Love,” he murmured, and stretched forth his arms, reaching for her. This stranger, a man she had known less than a day, the man who had plied her with wine and taken her virginity…he lay with smug pleasure, reaching for her lazily, as if she were a strumpet.

  “Love!” Lianna spat the word and leapt from the bunk. Flinging her dark hair behind her head, she backed away from him and, for the first time in her life gave full vent to fury.

  He raised himself up on one elbow and returned her stare. His gaze swept over her in a consuming, appreciative glance, then drifted down like his fingers in a soft caress, lingering on her breasts.

  She felt the reaction of her body to his appraisal without understanding it or wanting it. Peaks grew taut, in need of his hands. The response heightened her anger, and she looked around wildly, spying a bread knife on the desk, where it had been tossed carelessly the night before.

  Without thinking of the
consequences, in an emotional surge of hurt and rage, Lianna clasped it and lunged forward.

  10

  With a startled glance Josh Raven scrambled out of the way and caught her arm in a clamp which closed around her slender wrist like iron. His anger surfaced as he jumped to his feet, dropping the covers on the floor. Their bodies met in a struggle which was over in an instant, for Josh crushed Lianna to him, tightening his hold on her wrist. With a cry, she let the knife clatter to the deck. As Josh kicked it aside, she sank her teeth into his bare shoulder.

  “Damn!” he exploded in a rage, flinging her across the bunk. “You bit me, you baggage!”

  With a shriek she twisted and reached again for him. What possessed the woman? he wondered, catching her easily and pinning her to the bed. Now she tried to bite his hand.

  Deftly he released her wrist, wrapping his fingers in her long hair, tugging it until she gasped and stilled. Josh fought to control his fury. He was tempted to backhand her as he clenched his fist more tightly in her hair. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

  She kicked at him. “Let me free!”

  “Damn, woman!” He would put an end to this! Kneeling on the bunk, he caught her around the waist and pulled her up against him. With his hand still locked in her hair, he kept her face unmovable. Hot with anger, he demanded, “What the hell is all this? Explain quickly, before I take the cat to your lovely bare skin.”

  “You beast!” she cried. “How could you do such a cruel act? You filled me with wine and violated me—”

  “Violated!” he interrupted with an explosive sound. Suddenly the ridiculousness of her accusation struck him. He threw back his head, and deep-throated laughter rang in the cabin. “Violated! Love, I paid dearly for you.”

  He looked down at her cheeks, rosy from anger, and into her wide blue eyes filled with terror. He frowned. Whatever trick she was up to, the expression on her face was clearly fear. And in spite of her fury, she was so lovely. More lovely than any other woman he had known.

  His voice softened, lowering to a husky tone. “You were worth the sum I paid. Damn, if you weren’t! I shall be willing to pay more than the agreed sum. You lied to Summers about your virginity.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Why the lie, little Quita? You would have earned far more with the truth.”

  Lianna’s face flushed. “I don’t have a farthing of yours! I had no notion of what lay ahead.” She snapped, “Release me! You’re hurting my head with your grip.”

  “No tricks now,” he said, watching her warily. His fingers slipped out of her hair, but his arm still held her pinned to his chest.

  Lianna gasped for breath as she looked at him. The long hair on the back of his neck curled slightly above his shoulders, falling free from the strip of leather that had fastened it earlier. Her soft breasts were crushed against his chest. His skin had a faint salty odor, a teasing male scent that tickled her senses. Attempting to free herself, she squirmed in his arms. Her breasts scraped his chest and something flamed in her loins, an ache that she could not control. Suddenly she was too aware of his flesh against hers, his arm around her, their bare skin and his muscular body.

  Her heartbeat became erratic. Memories rose like a hot, nectared tide, surging over her, battering her senses as she looked into his eyes. His head lowered, his mouth found hers, and he tasted her slowly, curious about her reaction.

  She turned and felt an agony low in her body. The dull pain from the night before lingered and brought with it a return of anger, and she pushed away, tearing her lips from his. “I had no knowledge of any agreement for you to…to do what you did…”

  Inches away, his eyes pierced her with their emerald hardness. “I know not what game you are about, but fail it will. You are getting dangerously close to a thrashing,” he snapped, but he watched her closely. Renfrow Summers was a reliable man; he wouldn’t have taken the girl against her will—her actions yesterday decried that.

  “You monster! Have you not done enough?” she said, and there was a tremble in her voice that tugged at his heart. “I’m not Quita Bencaria. This is a dreadful mistake.”

  Josh Raven caught her chin. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m not Quita Bencaria. She was my maid, and I exchanged places with her in order to escape an arranged marriage.”

  “You’re lying, wench!” Anger rose in him again. No mistress would trade places with a servant. His shoulder stung from the bite and he wondered what trick this girl attempted. He had already promised her more money because of her virginity. “I want the truth,” he said quietly, attempting to hold his anger in check.

  “Why should I lie now?” she cried. “Look what you’ve done! I’m Lianna Melton. My father is a squire. I was on a journey to Spain, where I was to wed a Spanish nobleman, the Count of Marcheno.”

  “Marcheno!” The word was like a blow. She had to be lying through her teeth—yet every time he looked into her blue eyes, he felt a tightness in his heart. He shook his head, as if to free himself from a spell. “If you’re English,” he said, trying to hide his fury, “why would you wed a Spaniard?”

  “My father made the arrangements,” she said breathlessly. Her lashes dropped to veil her eyes, and he could barely hear her answer. “It was quite profitable for him.”

  There was no mistaking the pain in her voice. He lifted her chin and noticed that her lashes were wet with tears even as her eyes remained closed. He felt another jolt in his heart. Her words conjured up many memories. My father…He could clearly picture his father’s livid face as he laid lashes with vigor. Suddenly he felt a bond with the woman in his arms.

  At the same moment sympathy touched him, his mind warned him that she could be tricking him. He hadn’t survived years at sea by trusting strangers. “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Her dark lashes, sparkling with tears, raised, and wide blue eyes watched him. The guileless look in her eyes, that delicate beauty made him want to cradle her against his chest. He was tempted to brush her lips with his, to tell her there was no need to fear him.

  Torn between conflicting emotions, Josh relaxed his grasp. She reached down to gather the sheet to her chin. It fell lightly between them, partially covering him as well as her. A smile tugged at his mouth over her modesty. Was she acting? Could she be a Spanish spy? His blood ran cold at the thought, and his mind raced over events since she had boarded his ship.

  “I think you’re lying,” he stated flatly, yet hating the cruelty he inflicted when she flinched.

  “No! I’m Lianna Melton.”

  “I saw the fond farewell on the wharf. That man was a servant. The master’s daughter wouldn’t be in love with a servant. You’re Quita Bencaria, and I grow weary of this foolishness!”

  “No! I’m telling you the truth.” She looked down. “I grew up with the man you saw. His father has worked for my father since we were babes.”

  “His name?”

  “Edwin Stafford.”

  It was the name she had said when she had lain in his arms. “How much does this man mean to you?”

  “I love him!” She nearly yelled the words.

  Something sharp twisted his insides and for a moment he felt a flare of sardonic amusement. Why should be care? He had known many women. Why did this one seem to have a hold on his heart?

  Lianna drew a deep breath and he watched the rise of her soft breasts beneath the sheet. Shining midnight locks of hair fell over her pale shoulders. “I love him.” Her words angered him, even though he knew it was unreasonable.

  “You have taken my body; you can’t take my heart.”

  “Damn you, wench,” he said, and she shivered, yet she faced him unflinchingly. Tension grew between them, yet Josh could see the fear in her eyes. He felt a strong urge to comfort her, to try to banish that look of a frightened fawn, despite her declaration.

  Leaning forward, he placed his lips on hers and pulled her close as he tasted her sweetness, brushing her mouth lightly until she
trembled in his arms. He wanted to stroke away all her pain and worries. Was he being a fool? Succumbing to big blue eyes and a skill in treachery?

  Her breath was sweet, intoxicating to his senses. Her words—I love him—made him burn. His mouth settled firmly, his tongue thrust between her lips, and he kissed her as if to kiss away all thought of Edwin Stafford. He felt the tremor that rippled through her and became convinced that she was telling the truth. A lovely Englishwoman, educated, brave, young—and so very passionate. Something protective stirred within him at the same time his body flamed with desire for more of her. He had to know the truth!

  His mouth became her captor; he tried to drive all else into oblivion while his insatiable tongue searched and stroked, playing on her senses. When she stirred against him, moaning softly, he released her abruptly. Startled, she raised her black lashes slowly. She looked dazed, befuddled by passion, and he felt a flare of satisfaction.

  “Quita or Lianna?” he asked. “The truth now.”

  “It is Lianna Melton,” she whispered breathlessly. “I asked my maid to change places with me. Quita is now aboard La Joya, sailing for Spain. She told me of her employment, but you, sir, presuming me to be a mere serving girl, have taken the foulest advantage.”

  Emotions conflicted: triumph, passion, and pity. How well he understood her plight. His own past rose like a specter and he brushed a long lock of dark hair away from her cheek.

  “I took no advantage of you,” he said quietly while his mind struggled with decisions. He could turn the ship back and take her home to England. It would cost him days and money, but they weren’t impossibly far yet. “It was your maid who took advantage. She made full arrangements with Mr. Summers to become my mistress for this voyage.”

  “Mistress!” Her eyes seemed to widen endlessly, and he felt compassion for her innocence. And he knew he wouldn’t turn the ship back. He touched her cheek lightly with a longing that went to his soul.

  “Aye,” he returned firmly. “I paid handsomely for a wench able to speak Spanish.”