Tides of Passion

by Sara Orwig

  “Which I cannot do!”

  He laughed softly, feeling another tug at his heart. “It’s too late for such a lie. I recall your greeting yesterday.”

  “I won’t speak Spanish,” she protested. “You must return me to England! Allow me my freedom.”

  The words danced between them and he was torn with conflict. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she burned with passion as she had in the night. He knew her body would betray her, and he could claim victory easily, but he was beginning to want more. This lovely blue-eyed woman might be worth the effort to win her heart. He remembered Tillie, the girl on the dock, and how weary he had grown of casual intimacies.

  “I’ve sealed my part of the bargain. When you exchanged with your maid, it was your own folly. I won’t turn back now,” he said, not wanting to look too closely at his motives.

  Lianna paled. “You can’t mean this!”

  “Shh, Lianna. I will give you time.”

  “Time?” She sounded so outraged, he had to struggle for patience. Didn’t she realize he could do as he pleased with her, that he owned her for the voyage?

  “Haven’t you done enough?” she gasped. “You’ve forced yourself on me—for that alone you should respect my wishes.”

  “I recall little force last night.” He didn’t try to hide the mocking tone in his voice.

  Lianna turned crimson. As he watched her, his blood pounded. Her lips were red from his kiss, and the angrier she became, the more difficult it was for him to resist wrapping his arms around her and stopping her protests. There was a fire to her that dazzled him. He remembered the sparkle last night in her laughter, the eagerness of her hands touching him, and he wanted her to desire him that way again.

  Josh lazily ran his forefinger along her bare arm. He heard the soft intake of her breath and knew he stirred a response. His voice became a husky timbre as he said, “I recall these arms wrapped around my neck.”

  “You scoundrel!” she breathed, leaning back away from him. “They shall never be that way again!” Her eyes flashed with fire, yet the tip of her pink tongue ran across her lower lip and her breasts heaved as if she had to gulp air to breathe.

  “Never?” The word was a crimson gauntlet flung into the wind between them, hovering with a glittering brilliance. He whispered, “We shall see how long ‘never’ is.”

  “Don’t touch me! Can’t you understand? I intended only my husband to touch me.”

  “Only a kiss, Lianna,” he said softly. “I promise.” He leaned forward, unable to understand his own foolishness, wondering if he would keep such a promise—or if he could. “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.” Her cheeks flushed, and she asked shyly, “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven. You should have guessed the arrangement of your maid. Why else would a captain take a troublesome wench along on a voyage?”

  “As a serving girl. To demand more is loathsome!”

  Laughter rumbled in his throat. “Last night, Lianna, you thought I was far from loathsome.”

  “I was filled with wine, and you’re a devil to remind me. I won’t willingly let you touch me again.” The moment she said the words, she bit her lip, and he wondered if she had the slightest idea how tempting she looked.

  Unable to resist, feeling the tight ache in his loins, he reached for her. Instantly she drew back against the mound of pillows, a protest rising. “No!”

  He paid no heed, holding her steadfastly.

  “Will you stoop to force?” she cried.

  His pulse raced as swiftly as hers, and his voice dropped to a husky tone. “I told you—only a kiss.”

  “I’ll have none of your tricks! I’m not filled with wine!” she gasped.

  “Shortly, that will be of no significance to either of us,” he said softly.

  With a wild scramble, without thinking that there was no place to escape, she struggled to get off the bunk, out of his reach. In an easy, lithe movement, one arm circled her waist to pull her down while Josh’s other hand locked both wrists together and pinned them above her head, stretching them high and holding them to the pillows as he leaned down to touch her lips.

  How sweet, and what promise was given! Suddenly he burned with desire. He trailed kisses across her lips, her throat, as he whispered, “I want you, Lianna Melton. I want you to willingly wrap your arms around my neck as you did last night, to tell me you love me.”

  “I never will!” she whispered, sounding dazed.

  He sat up to look into blue eyes that would be forever in his memory. “I would wager my life that you will someday!”

  He leaned down, his mouth covered hers, and he kissed her deeply until he felt her hips shift. He released her wrists, and her hands came to lie against his chest, but she didn’t push.

  A commotion sounded outside the cabin. A gruff voice called loudly, “Captain! Sails sighted!”

  Josh swore under his breath, straightening to answer. “Aye. I’ll be there.” He smiled at her, stroking her cheek lightly before he rose. As he turned his back, he heard her gasp and knew she was shocked, as others had been before her, over the scars crisscrossing his back. Without a word he snatched up discarded breeches, pulling them on. As he slipped into a shirt, she stood up and wrapped the sheet around her.

  When she raised her chin defiantly, he felt another surge of admiration mingle with a hungry need for her. The sheet molded her slender form, and her tangled black hair was a cloud across her shoulders.

  He smiled and touched her chin. “We have a long, long voyage.”

  Emotions played clearly in her features, her blue eyes held first fear and then fury, and suddenly she raised her hand to strike him.

  He caught her wrist. Amused, he laughed softly, then with deliberation turned her palm up to kiss her soft flesh, to trace a moist tongue over sensitive nerves.

  She jerked violently to free her hand, but he held it while he gazed into her eyes, then placed his hands on either side of her face to hold her. He kissed her deeply until he felt her soften against him.

  When he pulled away, Lianna opened her eyes to meet his mocking gaze. They both knew he had won. Another second and she would have clung to him.

  Smiling, he left and closed the door behind him.

  Lianna stood still for a full minute. All the events of the past hours rushed in on her, his words, his threats, his kisses. Her world had changed too swiftly to grasp the events with logic.

  She was caught in a turmoil of emotions: rage, longing, uncertainty, and fright. She rubbed her hand where he had kissed her, realizing how unthinkable it would have been, only days ago, to strike a man. Captain Raven had pushed her beyond the layers of well-mannered social customs. He had taken her virginity…Questions swarmed in her mind like angry bees. Would Edwin still love her and want her? And a nagging thought she didn’t want to acknowledge surfaced—why had Josh Raven’s kisses stirred her more than Edwin Stafford’s? Her thoughts drifted to Josh, and the image of his strong body flitted to mind, making her burn with embarrassment, yet her pulse speeded at the same time.

  His back had been laced with scars. She frowned as she thought of the fine white lines etched in his tanned flesh. She had not discovered them in the night, unaware when her fingers had played over them. What had happened to him?

  If she had not changed places with Quita, she would be on her way to Spain and marriage to a man who might be far worse than Captain Raven. But then, what would become of her when Josh Raven tired of her? She remembered his husky voice saying, “I’ll give you time…”

  Time? Time to become accustomed to his presence? Time to accept the idea that she was bought and paid for? Never! Deep green eyes with gold flecks danced before her; her lips tingled as she recalled exactly how his mouth had moved on hers. Blushing, she remembered last night, and a heated warmth flowed into her.

  In agitation she swept up and down the cabin, attempting to forget the night, to forget how she had responded to Josh’s ki
sses.

  Her mind worked feverishly over her dilemma. Would he cast her aside in a foreign port? Leave her penniless? If she escaped, could she return to England and persuade Edwin to…what? And would Edwin still want her?

  Her head throbbed, and she walked over to the desk and opened the drawers. The second drawer held a long, sheathed stiletto.

  She turned it in her hand; the silver hilt was cold against her palm; then she dropped it back into the drawer. At the moment she felt she could have cheerfully sunk it into Captain Raven.

  Outside, in a light mist, Josh reached the poop deck and took the spyglass from Fletcher’s hands. “Spanish bark in distress, sir.”

  “Spanish!” Josh peered at the foundering ship that had a broken mast and was listing to port.

  “Run up the flag of Spain. Prepare to launch longboats. We’ll welcome them aboard.”

  “Aye, sir,” Fletcher answered promptly, but Josh saw the question in his eyes.

  “The Spaniards may be useful,” he said softly. “I want them to think we’re fellow countrymen. Give orders to speak only Spanish. The men will know what to do.”

  “Aye, sir.” With an almost imperceptible nod, the first mate gave the orders.

  As El Feroz changed course to reach the sinking ship, Josh watched, but his mind was belowdeck. Lianna. The name was lovely. Could he keep the promise he’d made to her? Give her time. He laughed softly. Had the days at sea addled his brain? She was so young, yet she’d had the spunk to defy her father and run away. Just as he had so many years ago. His jaw tightened and he stared at the distant ship, now looming closer.

  He could sink the Spanish ship and every last man aboard her, but if he took them on board, returned them to their not-too-distant homeland, he might gain some knowledge from them that would aid his Chilean venture. While he watched men move frantically about the bark, he could hear Lianna’s laughter, remember how her blue eyes danced when they talked during dinner. She was the kind of woman he could so seldom meet—damn, she was the woman of his dreams! He shook his head and laughed softly at himself. He should have taken Tillie and cooled his ardor; perhaps then he could view his new passenger with logic.

  “Sir, did you say something?”

  “No, Fletcher, except that my Spanish serving girl is not what I expected.”

  Fletcher looked through the glass at the bark. “She’s a beauty.”

  Josh lowered his voice. “Aye. She is also an English gentlewoman. Her father is a merchant.”

  Fletcher’s head whipped around, and Josh nodded. “She ran away from home.”

  “How in the sweet hell did she get here?”

  “She exchanged places with her maid, Quita Bencaria, not guessing what kind of service little Quita had pledged.”

  Fletcher glanced at the hatchway and looked curiously at Josh.

  “She stays with us,” Josh answered the question he saw in Fletcher’s eyes.

  “And will we have the constable after us when we put into an English port?”

  “I don’t know, but she stays.” Josh raised the glass to his eye to look at the sinking vessel, closing the subject.

  Below, Lianna washed and dressed in the severe black dress, brushing her long hair up to fasten it in a bun on top of her head. At the sound of a knock, she paused, then called out to enter. A steward came in.

  “’Morning, ma’am,” he said, removing the dishes from the night before.

  “Good morning,” she answered stiffly, barely able to speak. Her cheeks flamed in the realization that all men on board knew she was the captain’s mistress.

  “I’ll have your breakfast in a minute,” he said, and retreated, returning shortly with a tray of steaming dishes.

  When the steward left, Lianna sat down gingerly to a breakfast of ham, biscuits, and oatmeal. From abovedeck, shouts could be heard, mingling with the sound of running feet. She rose to step to the window, but could see nothing except endless water, which had grown rougher since early morning. Gray clouds hid the sun, darkening the day ominously. Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she opened the door cautiously; no one was in sight. She climbed to the deck, then paused beside the galley funnel, standing out of the way of the milling men. Cold air made her shiver, and she folded her arms across her chest.

  Seamen rushed to and fro; Captain Raven’s voice barked commands. In the choppy water, another ship was floundering. Broken and splintered masts thrust jaggedly into a gray sky. A burly crewman rushed past, noticed Lianna, and halted. His gaze swept over her, his eyes burning insolently. “Holy saints!” he breathed.

  Before she could say anything, Captain Raven appeared. His green eyes flashed as he took in the sight of both of them. “Reef sails,” he commanded curtly.

  “Aye, captain,” the man answered, and hurried to obey. “Get below,” the captain ordered.

  Although Lianna had been on the verge of returning to the cabin, a perverse anger at his command caused her to raise her chin defiantly. What was there between them that made her want to defy him at every turn? “No, Captain Raven.”

  He had turned, her presence already forgotten, with his gaze in the direction of the sinking ship. At her response, his head whipped around and his eyes glittered, but he said nothing, and turned again, to disappear toward the bow of the ship. Lianna felt a small measure of satisfaction that she had annoyed him. Yet, had she? Could she really dent Joshua Raven’s armor? In her heart, she knew the answer.

  Her attention returned to the sinking ship. Breakers curled and licked against its hull like greedy tongues lapping at a morsel which would soon be swallowed. The roll and pitch of the ailing vessel became violent. Cutters were lowered; men climbed down footropes, dropping into the small craft.

  While a longboat pushed off from the sinking ship, men ran to and fro on the deck. The yardarms tilted crazily with the broken masts and spars were black lines sharply etched against the sky. Suddenly Lianna realized how trapped she was on El Feroz. If it went down, so would she. Holding the rail, she peered at sails draped in tatters, tangled around the broken masts. The mizzenmast dropped lower as the ship sank and the bowsprit raised skyward. She traveled with a privateer who was sanctioned to commit piracy by his own country. How soon would she have to endure a pitched battle, to hope that Captain Raven came out the victor and was not sunk at the bottom of the ocean? What an exchange she had made with Quita!

  A longboat was launched from El Feroz to rescue the crew of the sinking ship. Lianna saw the yellow-and-red Spanish flag flutter above. Spanish seamen would not refuse rescue by Englishmen. What trickery was Josh up to now?

  Waves swamped the afterdecks of the Spanish bark. With a froth of bubbles, gray water closed over the splintered masts and the vessel vanished. Bits and pieces of wood bobbed to the surface. Men swam and floated, calling to the crews of the longboats. As Lianna gazed at the rescue procedure, Captain Raven reappeared.

  “I ordered you to get below.”

  “To hell with you, captain!” She had unthinkingly used language she had heard Edwin and other men at home employ, and realized she was changing day by day.

  His brows raised, but his mouth twitched in a manner which looked as if he were attempting to suppress his laughter. He stepped forward and swung her into his arms. Her hands rested lightly against his chest, where she could feel his strong heartbeat. She caught a tangy scent that had grown familiar to her, that stirred memories she didn’t want to recall.

  She began to protest, but his voice silenced her. “Quiet, woman! Did you see their flag! It’s a Spanish ship. You’ll have to remain hidden when the Spaniards board our ship. Until they are gone, which won’t be until we put into port, you’re to remain quiet and in your cabin.”

  “I won’t do either!”

  “Indeed, you will.” He reached down to open the door of a cabin. It was a narrow room with a hammock and a desk bolted into the bulkhead. It smelled dankly of damp oak timbers.

  “I won’t stay in this dungeon.” He set her
on her feet, pulling her against his chest.

  “Don’t push me too far!” he snapped in a deep voice. They looked into each other’s eyes. While he gazed down at her, she saw the change in his countenance; the hardness softened, as did the lines around his mouth. His gaze lowered to her mouth, pausing with such intent she felt as if he had touched her lips. She moistened them with the tip of her tongue, then realized what she had done, as he drew a sharp breath.

  “If I had time…”

  “But you don’t!” she gasped, unable to stop the hammering of her heart. “The Spanish should be boarding now.”

  “Ah, yes, the Spanish.” He grinned mockingly. “You’re not to make any commotion.”

  She tossed her head and opened her mouth to protest, but before she spoke, he touched her lips lightly with his finger. “Don’t refuse. Any disturbance from you, and I shall come”—he leaned down, the harshness returning to his features—“and thrash you. Do you understand?”

  “You’re a devil!”

  “Be that as it may,” he answered calmly, “don’t make the mistake of pushing me too far, nor disbelieve what I threaten. I won’t hesitate to do exactly as I have promised.”

  She regarded him with horror, seeing the cold glitter of determination. “You—”

  He interrupted. “Don’t tell me what to do or what not to do, Lianna. As soon as you understand that, we shall deal well together.”

  “I’m not interested in dealing with you at all!” she fumed. “I wish you had sunk with that ship!”

  He laughed, a baritone rumble of mirth. His gaze lowered. “Why are you dressed in that black rag?”

  “I have no intention of wearing your dresses!”

  “I suspect you’ll be delighted to wear them soon enough,” he remarked dryly. “No woman cares to look like a crow day after day.”

  A crow! The man was infuriating! “What will happen to the Spaniards who come aboard?”

  His eyes narrowed. “They may have information that I can use. We’ll welcome the survivors and put them ashore in Spain.”

  “How can you be so treacherous?”