Tides of Passion

by Sara Orwig

“I won’t harm them; I’ve rescued them from the sea and I’ll take them home. No treachery there…”

  “Captain Raven, let me go ashore with them when you dock in Spain. Release me from this bargain.” The words tumbled out and she held her breath, seeing something flicker in the depths of his eyes, and then his brows drew together as he frowned. “No, Lianna. You made your bargain with Quita.” His eyes held a crystal coldness. “Now, no noise, do you understand?”

  “I’ll do as I please,” she said angrily, furious with him for wanting her to fulfill Quita’s bargain. “I won’t be your mis—”

  “Enough, Lianna!” he said, and left.

  The door closed; a key grated in the lock. She glanced around the dark cabin at the small washstand, the single lantern, the tiny porthole. In the distance, voices could be heard, the commotion from topside filtering dimly to her ears.

  Time passed slowly; the cabin grew darker. Growing hungry and hating the confinement, she paced the small area restlessly.

  As she sat in the hammock, she thought about the captain from the sunken vessel. By this time he would be aboard ship, perhaps dining with Captain Raven.

  If she could escape for a few minutes from the tiny cabin, make her presence known to the Spaniard, Captain Raven might have to relent, to give her freedom to go ashore in Spain. She could return to England, to Edwin.

  She peered through the darkness at the door, contemplating a means of escape—and clearly, the image of glittering green eyes came. The warning of a thrashing was beyond her comprehension. Her father hadn’t been loving, but he had never inflicted physical punishment, nor allowed his servants to do so. She realized Captain Raven was capable of violence, but she was willing to take the risk in order to escape.

  It was impossible to leave the cabin except by the door, and it was locked from the outside. Then she saw the lantern. She lifted it off a hook, turning it in her hands. The smooth glass and studded copper were cold to the touch.

  She ran her fingers over a sharp edge on the bottom, and decided it would be a satisfactory weapon. Her lips tightened in determination as she sat down to wait.

  Hours passed and she grew weary. The steady rise and fall of the ship, the constant groaning timbers, made it difficult to stay awake. She leaned against the bulkhead and dozed, then woke with a jump as a key grated in the lock.

  She grasped the lantern and stood, her heart pounding loudly.

  The door swung open and light spilled into the room. Carrying a lantern, Captain Raven entered.

  Lianna stepped behind him and brought the lantern down on the back of his head.

  A dull thump sounded; Captain Raven pitched forward to the deck. His lantern crashed, and the light flickered crazily.

  Fully certain that she had killed him, Lianna stared, for a moment aghast. She saw he was breathing, and relief, as well as reason, returned. Fleeing into a passageway, she raced for the captain’s cabin, because his guests had to be quartered there or nearby.

  11

  Raven opened his eyes. His head pounded and the cabin spun around him. For an instant he stared ahead, dazed and hurt, until recollection hit him.

  As he lunged to his feet, a wave of pain assaulted him. Staggering against the bulkhead, he steadied himself. He had to stop Lianna! She would try to get help from the Spanish—and might reveal his plans to them, thereby endangering the life of every man on board ship!

  He stumbled into the passageway, Fighting a surge of light-headedness.

  He saw her running ahead. He hurried after her, trying to move quietly, yet clumsy from the pain. The passage wavered before him, and he felt faint. Gritting his teeth, he lengthened his stride to stop her. Damn the wench!

  He almost fell. Straightening himself, he saw her glance over her shoulder, her eyes widening in fright. For a second she froze, and he narrowed the distance between them. Then she whirled and dashed around a corner.

  He swore softly. He had to reach her before she found one of the Spaniards. While his head throbbed with hammer blows, it was clearing. He broke into a run, rounding the corner and sprinting after her. He reached out, slipping his arm around her waist to snatch her off her feet.

  Lianna screamed, a shrill piercing cry that seemed like a dagger thrust through his head. He clamped his hand over her mouth. In seconds, he heard footsteps running over the deck.

  Crushing her against him as she struggled, he dragged her down behind a cluster of barrels. Above them voices could be heard; there was clatter on the deck. A shout rang out.

  “Not a sound from you, you vixen!” Raven hissed. He held his breath and listened.

  The sound of footsteps close at hand tormented Lianna. She longed to cry out, to summon the Spaniards, but Raven’s fingers bit cruelly into her flesh. Terror gripped her as she remembered his threat. Would he carry it out?

  Gradually the ship grew quiet. Keeping her back pressed tightly against him, Captain Raven stood and nudged her ahead. They moved along the passageway until they reached his cabin. Once inside, he bolted the door and released her.

  Her breath came in uneven gasps as she watched him cross to the wardrobe, open it, and withdraw a rawhide whip.

  Her hand flew to her throat. He faced her, his eyes blazing with fire, his mouth set in a grim line. His hair tumbled over his forehead in an unruly tangle, only partially hiding a thin red cut he had received in his fall. Dust smudged one cheek darkly.

  “You wouldn’t!” she gasped, stepping back.

  “My word is law on this ship,” he said, fury lacing his voice. “What would happen if they learned of my plans?”

  “I wouldn’t reveal them!”

  “Perhaps not deliberately—yet how am I to know I can trust your word? If they learned what I intend, I would have to murder every one of them or face prison if we docked in Spain! Did you think of the consequences of your action?”

  Startled, she drew a shaky breath. “I wouldn’t have caused trouble for your men. I would have just asked to get ashore in Spain so I can return to England.”

  “And how would you have explained your situation?”

  “I could have done so without involving you.”

  “Or you could have taken your revenge. All I’ve seen from you is anger!” he snapped, stirring her wrath anew. His chest heaved; blood streaked his temple, running down across his jaw. Regret filled her, but it was useless to repeat that she wouldn’t have revealed his plans. Their gazes locked and held like links forged together in a chain.

  Captain Raven stood with his feet planted apart, his black seaboots gleaming dully in the light. His unwavering eyes, and powerful body, now held in check, reminded her that she faced a ruthless pirate, a man who had killed in battle. In a silent match of wills, tension stretched between them, pulling as tautly as an anchor rope dropped over the side.

  She would not let him see her fear, yet her breathing constricted. Though her eyes burned, she refused to so much as blink. She wanted to turn and run, to defend herself, to escape from his rage, but too well she recalled the strength in his muscled arms, the speed with which he could move. In spite of her terror, she refused to cower before him

  He walked slowly toward her. “Where are the tears or cries of terror?” he asked softly.

  “I have none.” She stared at him resolutely. “Do what you will. To me the pain of your whip is nothing compared to the indignities you have made me suffer,” she said stiffly, praying he could not hear the loud hammering of her heart.

  He reached out to touch her cheek, but she jerked her head away. “Leave me alone!”

  “I warned you against stirring a commotion.” He raised the whip and tapped it lightly against his hand. “Turn around. Will you disrobe—or do I rip that garment from your back?”

  Lianna’s pulse skittered and faintness welled within her, yet she refused to allow him the satisfaction of seeing her plead for mercy. She stared hard at him, and suddenly she felt that they were in a power struggle of another kind, a conflict that we
nt beyond a ruthless captain and his unwilling mistress, past the present moment into a timeless battle between man and woman. A two-sided coin of anger and desire.

  Instead of turning her back, she shook her head, swirling midnight tresses across her shoulders, and reached up slowly to free the ribbons of her black bodice. Her fingers trembled; she wanted to scream, to run. Instead, she faced him defiantly, and without taking her eyes from his, she loosened the front of her dress.

  Her thin chemise did little to hide her full pale breasts or their rosy tips. For the first time in long moments, his gaze left hers. His chest expanded with his indrawn breath; his lashes drooped as his eyes burned over her body. Unwillingly, she felt herself respond to his look. The throbbing peaks of her breasts grew taut as his gaze touched them like a caress. She hated her reaction, yet she arched her back proudly, making her breasts thrust toward him. “Do what you will,” she declared.

  His eyes clashed with hers, only this time with fiery heat, built not by rage, but by passion.

  She turned her back with a toss of her head, and clasped her hands together in front of her as she closed her eyes. Steeling herself for the first blow, she prayed that she would not cry out or beg for mercy. How she would like to put a dagger through his hard heart! She heard the whip whistle, slicing the air.

  It cracked sharply on the deck at her feet. She jumped at the noise before whirling in surprise to watch Raven fling the whip across the cabin, where it struck the bulkhead and dropped to the deck. Quickly he strode across the room and pulled her roughly to him. The bristles on his jaw scraped her cheek as he lowered his head.

  In a husky voice he murmured into her hair, “You’re too lovely. Your beauty has bound me in fetters and my senses are drugged with you. It is I who am held in bondage, Lianna, not you,” he whispered. “I’m bound by blue eyes, by full red lips that forever hold an invitation, by your fiery courage and a sweetness that warms me.” His lips covered hers, his tongue assaulted her senses as he plundered her mouth to stop the words that he was afraid he might say. He was in bondage to her loveliness, to something fragile and intelligent—and he wanted her heart and soul even more than he wanted her body.

  As his tongue stroked and delved and awoke a response in her, he fought a raging battle against his desire. Why didn’t he throw her down and take her? She was his—bought and paid for like a horse or a ship! Fury and white-hot desire warred with a desperate ache in his heart, a longing for something that he sensed he had found in Lianna Melton.

  As he buried his face against her throat, kissing her with lips that were hot and searing, he felt her pulse race as swiftly as his own.

  She moaned softly. His voice dropped to a seductive rasp that ran over her nerves like hot, sweet honey. “Lianna, you are a lovely creature and I will have you, but I want you to be willing and eager.” His lips caressed her throat. His fingers lifted heavy strands of black hair from her neck and he kissed the delicate hollow between her throat and shoulder.

  Scooting away, she snatched up the black dress to cover her breasts.

  Admiration filled him as he looked at her wild blue eyes. Thank God she was no wilting English miss—that she had the courage to defy him, and the wisdom to almost succeed!

  He felt exhilaration and desire at the same time. His loins ached with need of her, but he curbed his impulses, knowing he wanted more than her lovely body.

  “You blush,” he stated with such satisfaction that her anger flared anew.

  “I have gone from a sheltered life to the life of a dockside strumpet!”

  “Strumpet? No, Lianna. ‘Strumpet’ is not a description for you. Never.” With each word his voice lowered and his speech slowed until the last came out in a furred huskiness that wrapped her in its warmth like a soft woolen blanket. She trembled with a longing that she couldn’t combat. His strong tanned arms reached for her, slipping around her waist. Remembering the night before, his ravishment and her haze of pain and pleasure, Lianna was torn with shame and remorse. She struggled, gripping forearms that were as unyielding as iron. “Let me go!” she cried. “Have you not inflicted enough pain?”

  His voice was deep, a rumbling lion’s purr. “Pain? No, love, I’ll give you pleasure. You’re a pleasure-kitten, a woman whose body is meant for love.”

  She twisted her face, and her long hair swirled over them as he kissed her throat. One arm held her tightly while Josh’s free hand wound in her thick hair.

  Her pulse drummed, yet she fought with all her strength, aware in the depths of her being that she fought more than Joshua Raven—she fought her body’s wild, surging response to his every touch. She struggled to overcome her weakness, to deny what she felt, to resist what he was doing to her. “You’ve used your brute strength…”

  Soon the protests became soft whimpers of pleasure. In spite of her determination to resist, she had no more control over her actions than when she had been intoxicated with wine.

  Raven’s lips reached the valley between her breasts and his tongue stroked her skin, tasting the sweetness of her flesh as he trailed a moist path around a trembling peak.

  She was aflame. She felt as if she would burst with need. Protests were forgotten, circumstances no longer mattered.

  She gasped as his indolent caresses heightened her fervor swiftly and pleasure spun through her in giddy waves. Suddenly he pulled the dress over her shoulders, tugging it high against her throat.

  Dazed, she looked up at him. Beads of perspiration dotted his brow and she saw the tenseness of his shoulders. His voice was as ragged as his breathing.

  “I promised you time. You shall have it.”

  He left, turning the key in the lock.

  Lianna’s heart pounded as she stared at the door, too startled to fathom his actions. “I promised you time…” The words swirled around her head like windblown snowflakes. Time? She licked her dry lips and frowned. If he had opened the door, she would have welcomed him into her arms!

  The realization shocked her, and she felt a swift rush of shame. She was a hussy! There was no love between them, yet Josh Raven could easily demolish reason and make her desire him.

  Suddenly she felt as if she had lost something. Tears stung her eyes. Why couldn’t she have found this with a man who loved her instead of a ruthless pirate who would soon cast her aside?

  The key scraped in the lock and he returned, hanging a lantern on a hook. “All is quiet now. You’ll stay in your own cabin.” He crossed the room and his dark brows drew together over the bridge of his nose. “Lianna?”

  Unbidden, more tears sprang to her eyes. His thumb brushed her cheek and he lifted her chin. He sat in a chair, pulling her down on his lap. “What’s this? Why tears?”

  “Captain Raven…”

  “Josh, love,” he said with soft laughter.

  “Am I wicked, a wanton?”

  This time laughter caused his warm breath to fan on her cheek. “Wanton! Aye, that you are.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Don’t say ‘Oh, no!’ You’re delightfully wanton and that’s the way it should be.”

  “Should be?” She opened her eyes wide to look at him.

  He flashed a smile. “Aye, love. You were meant for a man—you take your pleasure as you give it.”

  “That’s wicked, according to Doria, my betsy.” Lianna blushed hotly.

  His green eyes developed a devilish twinkle and she suspected he was enjoying himself. “What did Doria say on the subject?”

  “She said that women who…enjoy men are wicked.”

  He chuckled softly. “No, my love. You’re not wicked. You’re sweet and fiery, as tempting as a flickering flame in the cold.”

  Suddenly his engaging smile worked its charm. She couldn’t resist returning a smile. She caught his jaw in her fingers and held him lightly, her voice teasing as she said, “Then beware, Joshua Raven, that you don’t get burned.”

  A startled look crossed his face, and his smile widened. He stroked her hair, his
fingers idly brushing her shoulder beneath the silken strands. “Perhaps your warning comes too late, love.”

  She blushed and let him brush her hair over her shoulder. His voice dropped to a low timbre. “It can be so much better, Lianna. Next time, I won’t hurt you.”

  She felt drawn to him and was shocked by her reaction. Why did he always win her over swiftly? She touched the bloody cut on his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “My head aches abominably, wench!”

  “It is a head as hard as the deck, to withstand such a blow!”

  He grinned and lightly kissed her throat, sending tingles spreading through her like lightning. “You’re a vixen too, Lianna. Next time I’ll beware—”

  “Next time, sir? You intend to lock me up again?”

  “I should retrieve the cat and teach you how to respect your captain. I paid handsomely—and not for a wench who downs me with a lantern!”

  They both laughed. At the moment it seemed ridiculous that they had fought. She felt as giddy as she had the night before—and she cared not to explore why. She touched his forehead. “I don’t see a bump.”

  “Here, a knot to make me look two-headed.” His fingers directed her to the back of his head, where she felt a frightful lump.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” she said softly. His eyes looked at her accusingly, but a twinkle danced in their depths.

  “Aye, you’re sorry I hurt, but you’d gladly do it again if you had the chance.”

  She smiled, and he pulled her to his chest and leaned down. Lianna raised her lips, tilting her head backward. Her heart skipped a beat as his mouth dipped down, then paused inches from hers. “We’ll go now,” he said softly.

  It took a few minutes for the words to sink in.

  “Regretfully, I must take you back to the small cabin.”

  Startled that he hadn’t kissed her, and shocked how deeply that disappointed her, she straightened her clothing. Why had he stopped? And why did she feel such an intense regret? Only an hour ago she had struggled against him with all her strength, yet now her heart raced and she longed to feel his arms around her!