What a Pirate Desires

by Michelle Beattie

  His kisses were long and sensuous, filled with a tenderness that left her humbled and a burning passion that turned her into a wanton. Was it wicked to want this? Was she no better than a strumpet for allowing this kind of touch and returning it with equal fervor?

  As he came up for air, his clouded gaze met hers and his ragged breath whipped her throat. Taking advantage of his temporary lack of control, Sam scooted back enough and dropped her head to his chest. His skin was damp and tasted salty. She’d seen it many times, but never like this, glowing bronze in candlelight, rising and falling in heated passion. Bare, for her eyes only. Curious, she licked at his nipples. Breath hissed from between Luke’s parted and swollen lips. He allowed one more kiss before he grabbed her.

  “I can’t wait, Samantha. Damn, I tried, but you’re too beautiful. I need you.”

  He all but ripped off her nightgown and flung it behind him. From the corner of her eye she saw it land on the sideboard. He chuckled, and Sam looked down to see the smile fade as he gazed upon her bare breasts.

  His hands came up and reverently caressed the already aching tips. He cupped her and brought her swollen flesh to his mouth. It was beautiful watching him take her in his mouth, seeing his pink tongue flick and lave her nipples. When he’d had his fill, and Sam was begging, he raised her up and slowly lowered her onto him. Instinctively she tensed.

  “Easy, luv. I won’t hurt you.”

  It wasn’t painful, but neither was it wonderful. Sam looked at Luke, whose face was taut with restraint. Since she’d started it, she’d allow Luke to finish, but she couldn’t help being disappointed that she’d pushed him. Especially since it had been more than enjoyable before this point. She sat, Luke completely sheathed within her, and did nothing.

  Finally Luke began to move. He rocked his hips and took her hands, placing them on his shoulders. The rocking motion rubbed her breasts against his chest. The contact sent a burst of heat through her. Luke smiled, as though he knew, then slid a hand between them.

  Sam gasped and shuddered as his fingers built a storm. Then, rocking with him, she allowed it to consume her. His mouth found hers and coaxed her lips open. Taking, he lashed his tongue against hers as the pressure built where they were joined. He drove into her as his mouth devoured hers. It was like being in a tropical forest after a storm. The air was heavy, breathing was difficult and labored. Dampness coated their skin and their passionate moans were primal.

  Aching and reaching for something yet unknown, Sam returned Luke’s kisses with an equal amount of longing. His lips slanted, plundering as though she was some new-found treasure. While one hand continued its torture between her legs, the other claimed a breast. Skin slapped against skin as the thrusts increased.

  Candles sputtered and died, leaving only the waning fire in the hearth. Their cries filled the room, creating a concert of passion that resonated around them. It was erotic hearing her soft begging echo around the room. Seeing Luke’s chest trickle sweat as he loved her was an image she’d never forget.

  Then the pace shifted, became urgent. His hands claimed her hips as her own fingers once again anchored on his shoulders. The wave of need rose with each thrust. She felt it coming closer, getting higher. Her breathing was ragged, his gaze was half-lidded. Suddenly the wave crested and slammed into her. His name slipped from her mouth as every muscle contracted and exploded.

  Luke plunged one more time, then strong arms wrapped her back, drew her with him onto the couch as he collapsed. With every nerve singing, Sam lay against her lover. A few sparks spat out as the last of the wood in the hearth was consumed. Darkness enveloped them. They sat entwined, savoring the aftermath of the storm.

  When conscious thought returned along with a normal breathing rhythm, Sam had but one overpowering thought.

  Pirates were notorious for taking what they wanted and leaving nothing behind. They were blatantly selfish. She smiled against Luke’s chest.

  When it came to making love, Luke was most definitely not a pirate.

  Eleven

  Sam stood in a haze of contentment and watched Luke gather their discarded clothes. He was dressed in nothing but low-riding trousers. He truly was beautiful. A shadow of stubble darkened his chin as he lifted her nightdress from the shiny sideboard. Muscles in his arms and shoulders bunched each time he tucked another garment under his left arm.

  She had donned her robe and waited for Luke next to the cold hearth. He walked to her, arms laden with their clothes, a softness she’d never seen before on his face. If asked, Sam could have walked on water. Surely she felt light enough for it.

  “Ready?” he asked, huskiness lingering in his voice.

  They both inspected the room once more, lest Jacqueline find something she shouldn’t, come morning. Then, a little melancholy to leave the room where she’d known such wonder, Sam nodded.

  “Right, then,” Luke said. He passed her their clothes, and before she could ask why, scooped her into his arms.

  “Take the light, luv, I don’t know my sister’s house so well that I can find my way in the dark.”

  He stepped close enough to the mantel that she was able to grasp the lamp he’d lit before going in search of their clothes.

  The stairs creaked faintly with each step Luke took. Sam held her breath, hoping it wouldn’t wake Jacqueline. What they’d been up to would be only too obvious. It was one thing for the lady to assume they were on intimate terms, it was quite another to be caught nearly naked on her stairs.

  Still, with Luke’s arms cradled around her, she couldn’t help thinking it was worth the gamble. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he didn’t turn at her bedchamber, but kept strolling down the hall.

  “Luke,” she whispered fervently, “where are you going?”

  He stopped and looked at her. His eyebrow made a perfect arch over a roguish gaze.

  “To my bed, luv. The night’s barely begun.”

  Her body warmed and tingled at the thought. He stepped through the open doorway, nudged the door closed with his hip, and proceeded to a four-poster bed that was as large and commanding as the one in her bedroom. He laid her softly on it and took the clothes from her arms, throwing them negligently over his shoulder once again.

  His lips spread into a grin.

  “Now,” he said, his eye gleaming with the knowledge that he was in full command, “you lie back this time, and I’ll be the one doing the tormenting.”

  A soft breeze floated into the sultry room through the open window and cooled their naked, still entwined bodies. All was silent except for the whisper of palm branches that rubbed against one another. Subtle perfume from the lush flower gardens on the grounds drifted around the bed where Luke lay behind Samantha. Her breathing was even, but not indicative of sleep. Enjoying the companionable silence, he took advantage of the opportunity to run his fingers through her long tresses.

  As he knew they would, they slid like silk in his hand. The smell of jasmine from her bath earlier rose with each pass of his fingers. It had never been like this. Usually it was a quick coming together and an equally quick pulling apart. With Samantha, he could have lain as they were all night. He closed his eye, slightly shaking his head. Bloody hell. What had he done?

  Samantha turned in his arms, her lovely body rubbing against his, and ignited his desires. Despite the heated lovemaking earlier, he was ready to lose himself all over again.

  “I should get back to my room,” she whispered, her voice as sensual as the island air.

  He leaned on his elbow and propped his head on his hand. The moon was low and full, and lit the room so that candles weren’t necessary to see her beautiful features. Her lips were slightly swollen, moisture glistening from his kisses. She clasped the thin sheet in her hand, teasing him with what lay beneath. A pale shoulder, perfectly rounded, caught the moon’s light and shone. Three inconceivable truths pummeled him. First, this delicate, sensuous woman was the renowned Sam Steele. Second, he didn’t deserve the gift she’d j
ust shared with him. And third, it was only a matter of time before he lost her.

  A few days ago he wouldn’t have cared. But a few days ago she hadn’t let him into her heart. A few days ago he hadn’t let her be anything more than another conquest. A few days ago he hadn’t realized just what he’d been missing.

  She sighed and nestled closer. At rest, if nowhere else, she trusted him. Still, it was only a matter of time until she discovered Dervish wasn’t in Barbados, as he’d led her to believe. And when that time came, he knew the loving expression on her face would turn to bitter anger.

  He’d known that when he’d formed the plan. At the time, it hadn’t bothered him. At the time, he realized, he hadn’t begun to care for her. Now, as tender feelings for her engulfed him, he wondered how he could get around the truth and keep her from finding out that Barbados wasn’t on Dervish’s horizon?

  He caught himself. What was he doing? He was Luke Bradley, pirate. He’d never looked back and regretted the decision to embellish the truth, and he wouldn’t now. He might be able to fool her about Dervish’s destination, but not about who he was. Besides, he reminded himself, she’d known when she’d shared her body. He’d made sure of that.

  Still, his conscience scolded him in a distant corner of his mind. He should let her go back to her room. It would be hard enough on her when she learned the truth. Instinctively he drew her against him, hanging on to what he shouldn’t. She was everything he’d been told he would never acquire. He was a bastard. And bastards, as his stepfather had preached for years, weren’t worthy of anything so fine.

  “Get some sleep, luv.” Allow me a few more hours to hold you.

  She shook her head, the ends of her hair caressing his chest. “I don’t sleep at night.”

  He drew back. “Is that why you always take the night watch? To avoid thinking about the night Dervish raped you?”

  There was a slight hesitation, and Luke wondered what more there could be. He’d known Dervish had raped her. He bloody well hated knowing it, but had accepted it as truth. Did it go beyond that? He lifted her chin with his hand.

  “What happened?”

  She scooted up to sit with her back against the wall, the covers clutched in one hand. She held the other out for him.

  Humbled, Luke sat before her, taking her suddenly cold hand between his. There was gut-wrenching hurt in her tawny gaze, and a fierce possessiveness pierced Luke.

  “I wasn’t raped by Dervish. But it was Dervish who began it all.”

  Silently he sat and stroked her fingers as she described vividly the loss of her family at Dervish’s merciless hands. It was all too easy to see it in his mind. He felt her pain, her sense of helplessness. Raw anger gnawed at him; he clenched his hands until Samantha gasped and he realized he was hurting her. Forcing himself to calm down, he eased his grip and listened to the rest.

  Suddenly so many things became clear. Her fear of getting too close, how she always stepped back to keep a safe distance. Her inability to sleep through the night, her need to be in control. Now he understood Joe’s protectiveness. Indeed, he thanked the man for it.

  When the tale turned to the plantation and a Mr. Grant, Luke’s rage knew no bounds. How could a young girl have been expected to endure so much? It was a bloody wonder she hadn’t lost her mind as well as her innocence.

  He’d agreed, when she’d sprung him from jail, to help her find Dervish. At the time he’d had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go, nothing to lose. Now, wiping warm tears from an angel’s face, his heart heavy with emotions, it became more than that. He wouldn’t be going after Dervish just to gain Samantha’s ship when Dervish died. Neither was he going to avenge his eye.

  He was going to make the man pay for hurting Samantha.

  Luke crept down the stairs, watchful for his sister’s servants. He was a wanted man and had to keep his presence a secret. Her husband, by sheer luck, happened to be at sea for another fortnight. But if the servants knew he was here, they might feel honor bound to report the fact to the authorities. He wouldn’t put Jacqueline at risk that way. He’d hidden his treasure in her cellar, true enough, but she hadn’t known it and he’d come back to fetch it as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Using Samantha as a distraction.

  The only way, he argued with himself, to ensure his sister’s safety. Though she was married to the governor’s brother, he doubted that would provide enough immunity against harboring a dangerous and—if he did say so himself—damn good pirate.

  Silently, he crept down the empty halls. He appreciated the worth of the ancient Chinese vase set upon a hundred-year-old table. Careful not to disturb it, he moved to the other side of the hall. Bold oil paintings hung on the walls, a strange combination of color and shapes that Luke knew nothing about.

  Reaching the dining room, he peered around the corner.

  Jacqueline sat at a long, polished table that was covered with steaming dishes and a silver pot he sincerely hoped contained coffee. She raised a golden brown piece of toast to her lips.

  “Slide me a piece of that, will you?” he whispered.

  She turned in the high-backed chair and smiled. Blood-lines said she was only his half sister, and yet she’d never treated him as anything but a real brother. Which was why he didn’t visit often. He wouldn’t take advantage of her generous heart by endangering her life. Indeed, if he hadn’t needed the treasure, he wouldn’t have risked coming at all.

  “Come in, Luke. I’ve sent Pritchard for supplies and assigned the maids laundry duty, with the very direct order that I did not wish to be disturbed today.” She gestured to an empty chair. “Please sit and have your breakfast. We have some time before Pritchard comes back.” She glanced back the way he’d come. “Where’s Samantha?”

  Male pride preened like a well-groomed cat within him. He’d managed to do what thus far Samantha hadn’t been able to accomplish on her own at night. Since about three this morning, she’d been snoring softly next to him.

  “She’s sleeping,” he answered.

  He felt her penetrating gaze and knew her thoughts. Grinning, he helped himself to the silver pot and praised his sister’s good taste as ink-black coffee poured out.

  “I wanted to lay out a few items she may need this morning, and I let myself into her room. As you know, she wasn’t there.” She sighed when he made no attempt to answer her. “You needn’t look so pleased with yourself. It’s a shame to take advantage of such a lovely woman.”

  “What makes you think I’m taking advantage?” Luke leaned back in the chair and sank his teeth into fresh bread coated with orange marmalade.

  Jacqueline stirred her coffee with a spoon too tiny to be of much use, tapped it twice on the side of her cup, and placed it neatly on the saucer. She held the dainty china between graceful hands. Her expression was puzzled.

  “She seems lovely. She’s polite and courteous, a little reserved.”

  Luke licked the fruit off his thumb. “But?”

  “She didn’t sit still. If she wasn’t pacing, her hands were twisting, or her feet were tapping.” She shrugged and took a careful sip. “I don’t know. She didn’t appear to be comfortable around me. I didn’t offend her, did I?”

  “You, my darling sister? Impossible. Samantha’s simply . . .” he trailed for a moment until he found the right word. “Distracted.”

  “That’s what I mean, Luke. Are you taking advantage of her kind heart while she’s too focused on some other matter to notice?”

  Filling his cup again, he picked a cluster of fat red grapes from a platter overflowing with ripe fruit. Jacqueline, dressed in a lovely morning gown of pale peach, was the only person he’d ever felt deserved nothing less than his complete honesty. Today, however, he hesitated. His shirt, with most of the buttons done up in deference to his sister, suddenly felt too tight. Although there were still three buttons opened at his throat, he tugged at the cotton as if it were choking him. Her words were too close to the truth.

  “S
he knows who I am, Jacqueline. I’ve not lied about that.”

  “I didn’t think you would. But Luke, she’s clearly not a pirate, and therefore must be treated better than you’d treat one of your own lot.”

  She frowned when he choked on a plump grape.

  “I don’t think she’s the kind of woman to take”—she pursed her lips thoughtfully—“trysts as casually as you do.”

  “She’s made of stronger things than you know, Jacqueline. We both know what we’re doing. I’m sure she’d thank you for your concern, however.”

  Jacqueline sighed. “It’s not only her I’m concerned for, Luke.”

  He snatched a grape from the stem and popped it into his mouth. Then, just to annoy her, he talked around it. “Me? I’ve been taking care of myself a long time now.”

  “Yes, but you’ve never brought a woman to my home before.”

  He chewed slowly and swallowed. “I’ve hardly been here more than a few times myself. Besides, she was hurt, and I needed—” He couldn’t very well tell her she’d been harboring his plunder for three years. She’d skin him alive. “I needed to see my lovely sister,” he announced, hoping his charming smile would convince her it was God’s truth.

  Instead, she offered a dazzling smile of her own. It set his defenses on edge. She stood, took an empty plate, and began loading it with pastries and fruit. When the plate had enough food on it to feed at least three of Samantha’s crew, Jacqueline moved to his side.

  “There’s more to your bringing Samantha here than a cut on her arm. You’ve true feelings for her. I know it; you certainly know it, though you’ve yet to admit it to yourself; and it’s only a matter of time before Samantha realizes it. Here.” She passed him the plate. “Take that up her. If no one is to get suspicious, I must keep to my usual routine. I’ll be back once I’ve run my errands.”

  Luke trudged up the stairs like a scolded boy sent to his room. His boots slapped the polished floors while his mind disputed Jacqueline’s words. Aye, he had feelings for Samantha. She was beautiful and passionate. She’d managed to carve a name for herself as a worthy pirate while keeping her identity a secret. As a man he appreciated the fact that she was a sensual woman. As a pirate he respected her skill. He’d convinced himself this morning it went no further than that.