by Sara Orwig
She opened her eyes wide. “You regret bringing me!”
“No, I regret that we didn’t meet in England, that I couldn’t court you.”
He sounded so sincere that Lianna was touched. And how deeply she wished their pasts had been different! With each brush of his lips, his breath, his hand stroking so lightly on her nape, her voice became breathless, the words difficult to pronounce. Her lids became heavy. She tilted her lips up to her husband and closed her eyes, her arms circling the strong column of his neck.
“Please, give me the time you promised. This isn’t love.” The idea that he would possess her when he didn’t love her frightened her.
“I care, Lianna, and when I look at you, I can’t get my breath.”
She didn’t believe him, but she couldn’t argue. Words fled. Adeptly his fingers unfastened the white gauze and pushed it from her shoulders, down over her tiny waist, over her hips. As it floated down in a billowing whisper around her ankles, Lianna’s reserve fell with it. Lost in the dazzling onslaught of his seductive touch, she forgot their differences.
He lowered his head, his hair pressing softly against an upthrusting breast as he turned his face to kiss the other pointed peak. She gasped and wound her fingers in his hair, pulling free the strip of leather that held his brown hair bound behind his neck.
“Lianna, Lianna, my sweet love…” he murmured, and she wanted to cry out and tell him to stop whispering endearments that he didn’t mean. At the same time, she relished his words. If only he meant them!
His hands were magic, roaming everywhere, each foray bringing golden sorcery, driving her to an abandon she didn’t dream possible. This wedding night she was not befuddled with wine, no longer struggling against a captor. He made love to her as if she were the most precious part of his life, and Lianna responded fully.
Beneath his hands her shift drifted away; then he pulled off his coat; the white cravat and shirt went next. Bare-chested, he stood before her, bronzed, his skin taut over muscles honed to perfection from years aboard ship. One look at the short brown curls that matted his chest, and she remembered fully their texture against her bare breasts.
His black breeches bulged with his aroused manhood; his hands lowered to pull off his gleaming black boots. She licked her dry lips as she stood mesmerized by a marvelous body, by the hungering fires dancing in his eyes, by her body’s quivering response to his languorous gaze.
“How beautiful you are. Fate meant our paths to cross, gave you to me…” His voice was husky. And, heaven help her, she wanted him so badly! Even if there were no words of love, some part of her already belonged to Josh Raven, and how easily he could claim it.
Tight breeches were peeled away, and then he lifted her in his arms to carry her to the bed. He stood over her, his eyes burning with passion at the sight of her lush pink-tipped breasts, her pale flat stomach, and her long, slender legs.
“Lianna, love,” he whispered huskily. He lowered himself to the bed and pulled her into his arms, crushing her to his chest. His hands and mouth dallied with breathtaking thoroughness, building an aching need in her that drove her to abandon.
“Josh!” Lianna heard her voice dimly as she cried out his name and tugged his shoulders, pulling him down over her. She ached with need for him.
Josh relished her hips thrusting up to meet his, her slender arms clinging so wildly. His heart pounded, and he felt a primitive desire that he had never known. He wanted this woman for life—forever. Her lush pale breasts, her slender hips, were made for him, to bear his seed. In one brief second before he too was lost in sensation, he gasped, “Ah, Lianna, now you’re mine!”
He thrust inside her, and giddy waves of sensation wiped out all thought. She cried out in rapture as waves of pleasure burst over her. Her voice mingled with his harsh groan. She felt his hot, shuddering release, and clung to him as their breathing slowed.
Holding her close, he turned and they lay entwined while he stroked her hair away from her damp brow.
Later, he shifted and raised himself on his elbow to look down at her, and he felt a rush of pure joy. “Lianna…beneath the shyness and the reluctance burns a passionate nature.”
She placed her hand along his cheek. Immediately he turned to kiss the palm, to touch it lightly with his tongue.
She waved her left hand, looking at the small golden band glinting in the moonlight. “It is difficult to believe that I am wed.”
“Ah, love.” He chuckled, a brief rumbling sound that was full of male satisfaction. “Married you are, and for eternity.”
She looked up at him solemnly. They had just bonded in the closest physical union, yet she wanted more. He was so handsome with curls tumbling over his forehead, his teeth white in the darkness. If only he loved her!
She caught his hand. “You have so many scars, Josh.”
“Do they frighten or repel you?”
Never had she felt repelled by his physical blemishes. She caught his hand to kiss it. “No. I hate it that you fight.”
“I hope that means you care. I didn’t lose part of my finger in a fight. It was because of my father.”
She gasped, staring at him in dismay. “Your father did that?”
While he told her about his childhood and the beatings, his running away from home, Josh smoothed her black hair away from her face, smiling down into wide blue eyes that gazed at him as if her life depended on watching him. What ran through her mind? He was overjoyed with her—and was her captive far more than he could claim her as his.
Each time he started to tell her the depth of his feeling, he stopped, halted by memories of her declaration of undying love for Edwin. She couldn’t love another and lie in his arms and give of herself so passionately. Yet, she thought she loved Edwin. And Josh could hear Fletcher’s bitter voice: “Tell her you love her, this cold English maiden, and you’ll create your own hell…” So he smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead, trailing his lips down to her throat, to her soft breast, and held back the words he wanted to say, instead revealing his childhood and youth.
She framed his face in her hands. “I’m sorry. My father was cold and unloving, but he wasn’t cruel. I’m so sorry.” Lianna pulled Josh to her to kiss him tenderly, feeling an ache in her heart for the life he had had as a child. What kind of father would threaten his son with an iron trap?
He held her in his arms and his voice became as cold and harsh as she had ever heard it. “He’s effectively barred me from every club and decent home in London, as well as disinheriting me. That’s why I intend to fight in this cause that interests my fellow countrymen—I want their regard when I return to London.”
“Oh, Josh!” She raised up on her elbow, her black tresses falling over his chest and shoulder. “It is so dangerous to fight in a revolution just to win the approval of men who are snobs. You said you have friends.”
“I hate having things closed to me simply because he hates me for taking Phillip.”
She sat up to look at him, feeling sympathy, and understanding some of his agony. “I always wanted my father to care. Until the very last, I hoped he would be interested in me, but he wasn’t. I suppose it’s the nature of children to hope.” She caught his hand, turning it to kiss the knuckle of his little finger while he lay in the moonlight and watched her. She saw his chest stop its steady rise and fall as she trailed her lips across the back of his hand. “I’m sorry. Josh, if there is a child from our union, we must give it love.”
He swept her hair over her shoulder, his hands caressing her. “If I thought you cared…” he whispered, and pulled her down to kiss her, and sympathy changed to flaming passion.
Later, she tucked her head against his shoulder and clung to him, shyly stroking his chest. “How quiet the ship is,” she whispered, wanting to ask what he had meant earlier when he had said, “If I thought you cared…”
“My men are ashore, so we’re alone. They’ll return at midday tomorrow, hopefully sober enough to sail.” He caught up s
trands of her black hair to run them over his cheek. “When we dock again, away from Spain, where it’s safe, I’ll buy you whatever your heart desires. What would you like, Lianna?”
“I don’t know what to ask for when I don’t know where we’re going or what they’ll have.”
He stretched out beside her, pulling her into the crook of his arm and fitting her to his side. “We’ll go to exotic ports as we sail around the continent that holds Chile. There will be golden jewelry, wines, rum, silk and satin, dyes, spices…” The teasing note entered his voice. “Perhaps a cask of pepper for my fiery wife.”
She laughed and sat up to look down at him. He placed his hands behind his head and gazed at her with such open delight that she trembled. “I’ll sprinkle it over your food and your bed!” she threatened, reaching for the sheet. His fingers caught the sheet and pulled it away.
“I want to look at you.”
Her heart jumped, and she gazed down at him. With his hands behind his head, his muscles bunched beneath smooth skin, he looked so male, so pleased with her. She felt a flame kindle in her loins and singe her nerves as it raced through her veins.
His eyes caught hers and held, and the moment transformed again when she had thought it impossible to happen again tonight. Tension pulled like rigging holding a sail. He moved his arms from behind his head and reached for her. “My love,” he whispered. “How beautiful you look with your dark hair spilling over your pale shoulders. I have to kiss you, Lianna, to hear you cry my name again…” He pulled her down, and her gaze lowered to his sensuous mouth. She met his lips eagerly, welcoming his demands.
A great white moon rose in the heavens while the ship rocked gently in her moorings, and Lianna spent the night in ecstasy. Again Josh Raven drove her to a peak of rapture, discovering new ways to elicit a wild response, while in turn, she discovered his body intimately.
At last, as the pink-streaked rays of sun lightened the sky, they slept wound in each other’s arms, a smile on Lianna’s lips. She woke to Josh’s kisses on her throat, and their thundering need commenced.
Finally she began to hear men on deck and realized the crew had returned. “Your men are back,” she said.
He groaned. “If only we weren’t in a Spanish port where danger lurks, I would stay in this bunk with you for the rest of the week. I can never get enough of you, Lianna—not in one lifetime.”
“Yet you risk both our lives in this endeavor.” She sat up in bed, drawing her knees to her chin with the sheet spread over her. “Give it up, Josh. Sail as other men and deal in ordinary trade.”
He looked torn with indecision for the first time in her acquaintance with him; then the expression in his face was gone as swiftly as it had come. “It is a tempting thought.” He traced his finger over the curve of her cheek. “Now I have a reason to want to turn back, but I can’t. No, love, I’m committed. And when we return to London, I don’t want to be ostracized.”
“I’m sorry for what your father has done to you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him, but he pulled back, studying her intently.
“Lianna, you care!”
She blushed and wound her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Yes, I care.”
His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes, and it made her breath stop.
“How much?” he asked hoarsely.
Suddenly she felt confused. It wasn’t a question she could answer, even to herself. She tried to answer lightly, to tease, as she tilted her head and asked, “How much do you want me to care?”
“With all your heart and soul,” he said quietly, yet with such feeling that her heart slammed against her ribs. Blood roared through her veins as he leaned close, his lips taking hers. And she started to tell him that she wanted the same, that she wanted him to care for her as deeply, but his arms crushed her to him, pulling her against his long, bare length, and the moment was swirled away on tempestuous winds.
When Josh washed and dressed, Lianna watched him, then turned to look outside. “The sun shines now, but storm clouds gather on the horizon.”
She didn’t hear him come across the cabin on bare feet, but he turned her chin to face him. “There are no storm clouds on our horizon,” he said solemnly, and bent down to kiss her. Later, she would recall his words with desperate clarity.
While the breeze tugged at her hair, Lianna stood on the deck beside the rail, watching the sights as they prepared to hoist anchor and sail. All commands were given in Spanish; to the casual observer, El Feroz was a Spanish ship.
Noticing a frantic haste to the work, as Josh passed her, Lianna halted him. “Everyone is rushing about his task.”
“We have our spies. We’ve been warned to sail as quickly as possible. Spanish soldiers may come to search the ship. And right over there, Lianna, is one of Marcheno’s ships. How I’d like to put my men aboard her in the dark of night and sink her!”
He strode away, leaving her with questions swirling in her mind, wondering how Quita had fared.
A few moments later, at Josh’s reappearance, Lianna’s thoughts changed to heated recollections of the night that made her heart beat faster.
A seaman’s voice behind her said, “Captain Raven, sir, there’s a man looking for a Miss Lianna Melton. He has a message from someone named Bencaria.”
Surprised, Lianna turned. A youth dressed in coarse gray clothing and dusty boots gazed solemnly at her, then back to Josh, who nodded in her direction. “The person in question is my wife now. This is Lianna Melton Raven.”
The man removed his cap and nodded. “Buenos días. Aquí, señora. I’m to deliver this message to you and you only,” he added in Spanish, and held out a paper.
She gazed at the paper that was rolled, tied, and sealed. Reluctantly she reached out to take the message. “Gracias,” she whispered as she untied the black string and unrolled the paper.
Tight, cramped handwriting read: “Miss Melton, When I heard El Feroz had sailed into La Coruña, I knew I must send word to you. A messenger has come from England to tell me the sad news that your father is dead. You may claim your inheritance.” The message was from Quita.
Lianna’s head swam. A dark shadow fell on the paper, and she looked up to see Josh reading over her shoulder.
A sharp pain squeezed her heart as she remembered her father. No matter how cold he had been, he was her parent and she had loved him. Following the rush of grief came the blinding knowledge that she would inherit, she was free, bound by no parental demands. “I’m free,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry about your father, Lianna,” Josh said solemnly.
“I’m free,” she said aloud. “I can go home.” As she turned away from him, an arm ensnared her, wrapping around her waist to hold her firmly.
18
Startled, she looked up at Josh’s darkened countenance. In the shock of reading Quita’s message, she had completely forgotten him.
“Let me go! I can go home now!”
“Mrs. Raven.”
The words fell with the sharpness of a sword. They stabbed into her heart and brought the cold sting of reality. The arm holding her tightened, and Josh swung her around to face him. “You’re my wife…my legal wife, bound to me, not to that damned Edwin!”
“You have to let me go home!” The situation had changed so swiftly, she reacted without stopping to think.
His scowl sent the men around him scurrying away hurriedly, yet Lianna paid no heed. He snapped, “Mate, hoist anchor. We sail from Spain now!”
“No!” she cried, and wrenched free to dash toward the gangplank. Josh’s arms shot out, and he snatched her up against his chest, his face set in determination.
Lianna’s hands pushed uselessly against his chest. “I can go home! We can dissolve this marriage!” she cried.
As Josh dragged Lianna down the companionway, emotions tore at him. Wisdom and fairness and all he had tried to live by told him to set her free. But he wanted her and he thought there was a
chance for love. And there were moments when he thought he was winning her over. In bed she returned passion fully. Time was what he needed, and he intended to have it! He entered his cabin, kicked the door shut, and crossed the room in swift strides to drop her onto the bunk.
Breathlessly she jumped to her feet to face him. “Let me go!” She looked at the expression of the man whom she had married and saw his determination to hold what was his. As irrevocably as the possessions in his cabin, he had placed an invisible lion’s stamp on her, and she belonged to him.
“You’re my wife, Mrs. Raven. You agreed to this journey.”
“It was a mistake. It can be undone now.”
“No.”
“Damn you, Joshua Raven.”
A look of pain crossed his face, but his jaw set in a resolute thrust.
“I want England and home, not a revolution and battles in some far corner of the world!”
Josh drew a sharp breath, and his dark skin flushed. A pounding at the door forestalled his reply. Fletcher called, “We’ve a boarding party sent by the king. They ask to come on board and speak to our captain.”
“Dammit to hell!” Josh’s brows drew together.
“I’ll scream, I’ll reveal everything!” she cried in desperation to get him to yield. “If you’ll just let me go…”
“You little fool! Don’t you know if they find I intend to fight them in the New World, that I’m a privateer who’s robbed Spanish ships, they’ll confiscate my ship as well as you! You’ll endanger your own life, my men’s, Quita Bencaria’s…” Suddenly he called, “Fletcher!”
The mate entered and Captain Raven picked up Lianna, crossing the cabin to hand her to the startled first mate.
“Don’t let her make a sound, if you have to choke her until she faints!” Josh snapped. He left and slammed the door behind him.
Stunned, Lianna gazed after him, then looked at the tall man holding her. Fletcher asked, “Can I trust you if I put you down?”
She closed her eyes, the tears coming in a hot spurt, stinging her eyes and making her throat ache. “I want off this ship. I can’t fight you both. I can’t escape him, but I want to go.”
