The Jezebel

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The Jezebel Page 4

by Saskia Walker


  “Do you intend to inform us about your passenger,” the officer eventually said, with sarcasm, “or are we supposed to pretend we did not see the woman you brought aboard?”

  Roderick frowned. He and Brady often held each other to account in Gregor’s absence, but he did not appreciate the challenge in the seaman’s tone. “The woman needed passage to return to her family home in Scotland. Would you have me leave her alone in London?”

  “We take no passengers, especially not a woman.”

  Roderick bristled. “I am the captain of this ship, and if I deem it necessary on occasion, you will accept that and act accordingly.”

  Brady shook his head. “Since when has a woman swayed you so easily, Roderick Cameron?”

  Again he frowned. Brady’s comments needled him, for Roderick was determined his captainship would be a resounding success. In the six months since Gregor had been away from the ship the men had answered well to him, yet only days from reuniting with Gregor he now risked having the crew turn against him.

  “What a spectacle you made, arriving with a slip of a girl in tow and God knows how many men after you.”

  “Enough!” Roderick barked. “Think on this. What if she was your sister, desperate to find her way home?”

  Brady left that hanging in the air between them a moment. “But it was not your sister you were thinking of when you brought her aboard,” he finally said with a wry smile. “I saw the way you looked at her as you took her below deck.”

  “It is easy for you to judge, when you have a night with your wife to look forward to.”

  “A fair point, I’ll allow,” Brady said with a mock bow. “As long as she gives the men no trouble, I will back you up and remind them of...what was it?” He gave a sharp laugh. “Oh, yes, their sisters.”

  Roderick was about to reply when Clyde appeared at their side.

  “I gather from the raised voices that you quizzed him about the Jezebel.” He directed his question to Brady, and followed it up with a chortle.

  The Jezebel. Roderick gave an internal groan. It was what Clyde called all women, but it only served to implicate Roderick.

  “I did, and he said he was thinking of his sister.”

  Clyde chortled again. “That Jezebel is a whole lot prettier than any sister of yours would be,” he said to Roderick. “Lord help any woman saddled with your looks.”

  “I was concerned for her safety,” Roderick insisted, “and she is a Scot.”

  Clyde rubbed at his beard. “Concerned for a warm bed tonight, I wager.”

  “How is it you have survived so long at sea, when you show such cheek toward your captain?” Roderick snatched the eyeglass from Clyde’s hand and turned away to scan the waters behind them, straining his eyes in the darkness. There was no sign of lights on the water, no flash of a navy flag in the moonlight.

  Still he stared into the darkness.

  Beyond him the two men continued to whisper and chuckle, making lewd remarks about the captain’s intentions.

  Why in God’s name had he brought a woman aboard? He hadn’t been thinking straight. He’d been won over by her plea and the promise of a lusty tumble in bed with a lady such as her. It had been too long that he’d been without a woman’s touch, for Roderick Cameron was not used to seeking them out alone. In fact it had been his fellow shipman, Gregor Ramsay, who had been the brazen carouser when they docked at ports near and far. Roderick did not consider himself a man of finesse, especially when it came to women. He was not gifted with charm and the necessary skills of seduction. Since his cohort, Gregor, had taken time away from the ship, Roderick’s sole task was to keep the crew aboard the Libertas safe, no matter what dangerous task they undertook, and to keep his men content. He had dreamed of captaining a ship since he was a lad watching the vessels come and go down at the docks in Dundee, and he wasn’t going to let anything threaten his leadership, least of all a woman.

  They were trouble, no good for anything but a quick roll before you were on your way again. If you got a taste for it they could break your bond with the sea and hold you to the land. Brady was in a position to warn them of it, for he was saddled with a woman and bairns, too. Brady’s lot was a warning to them all. He had a family he had to provide for even though he was a man of the sea. It tore the sorry man in two directions.

  Roderick had longed for a woman that night, though, and she had appeared. Maisie from Scotland. What red-blooded man could have resisted? Surely it would do no harm to keep her below deck and deposit her in Dundee.

  A cold wind whistled in over the water.

  He thought of his bed, and the woman who was warming it.

  “She’s aboard now,” he said, returning Clyde’s eyeglass to him, “and you’d be wise to get used to the idea, because I intend to put her down on Scottish soil myself.”

  “What a gentleman you are,” Brady said. “But you do intend to bed her, don’t you?”

  Roderick nodded. “Oh, aye. The men may grumble about her presence, but they would respect me even less if I didn’t bed her.”

  Brady grinned. “Now I am reminded why you have their loyalty. You’ve a canny knack of sounding as if you’re talking sense, no matter what fix you’ve got us all in.”

  Roderick laughed, but talk of getting them in a fix still niggled at him. There would be no fix, if he didn’t let his curiosity about her circumstances get the better of him.

  * * *

  Much later that night, Roderick strode across the boards and climbed down the ladder below deck. He made his way along the narrow corridor to his quarters with his plan in mind. He would claim her, then arrange for her to be accommodated elsewhere until they docked in Dundee. He could not afford to be distracted by a woman. Assuring himself that it was possible to bed her and be gone, he opened the door and entered the cabin.

  He’d been about to speak when he noticed she was slumbering on the bed. The sight pulled him up short and he stood by the door, staring across at her.

  What a picture she made.

  He’d been correct in his assumption she was no penny whore, for the gown she wore was now fully revealed, spread out on the bed as she was. It was a fine gown, made for a fine lady. How was it that a man such as he had the task of carrying her to Scotland, let alone bedding her?

  Roderick relished the prospect. It would be a pleasure indeed. His cock was already roused, hardening inside his breeches.

  His gaze ran her length and he saw a flash of ankle between boot and skirts. Soon enough he would be lifting those skirts and shoving them out of his path. What he could see of her stockings indicated they might be the finest he had ever touched, and he looked forward to stroking them down her lovely legs. The cloak she had worn was folded neatly beneath her head. The fact she had used her own garment as a pillow made him smile. His pillows were clearly unworthy. She was a woman of some wealth, and yet she had no coin to pay for her passage. It made him curious, which was unfortunate, because it distracted him, when his intention was not to be distracted by any woman.

  Maisie had settled enough on his bed to fall asleep. She had unlaced her bodice before doing so, and her breasts swelled enticingly from the silk corset beneath. One hand rested at her collarbone, the other was partly folded at her side, clutching her unraveled laces.

  A true beauty she was. A princess dozing on his humble bed. Roderick found himself glad that she was asleep while he observed her silently from just inside the door. He wanted to wake her, but he savored the vision before him, and the fact she was there at all.

  Easing off his cloak, he set it aside and moved closer to the bedside.

  In her sleep, her brow seemed softly troubled. Roderick felt the urge to smooth that frown away, but held back his callused hand from the task. That was a delicate endeavor for which he was not best qualified. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his fingers around those of hers that held her laces, lowering his head to breathe in her scent. The aroma of her femininity—both floral and fecun
d—intoxicated him. The alabaster skin of her throat and breast had him humbled and yet aroused. The women he had been with in previous trysts had been basic sorts, and now he felt cursed in his blind lust, uncouth and unskilled.

  A woman, a beautiful woman at that, had offered herself to him. Desire pumped within him.

  How easy it would be to pounce and plunder her. But what Roderick Cameron wanted most of all was to have her welcome him aboard. He rested a kiss on the elegant bump of her collarbone, holding himself back from diving down into her luscious cleavage.

  Wake up, my beauty.

  She stirred, her head rolling from one side to the other on her makeshift pillow. Roderick could not help but notice her delicate earlobes, and the soft, enticing skin behind them. Instinctively, he ducked his head and kissed her there, behind her right ear. The silken skin enticed him closer. He nuzzled her.

  Oh, but you are precious and beautiful.

  It was only when she jolted under him that Roderick realized he might have said that aloud, and woken her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Maisie leaped awake.

  Captain Cameron hovered over her.

  Frozen to the spot where she lay on his bed, she met his stare as levelly as she could, her heart pounding, her mind filled with wonder about the fate she had designed for herself.

  For an achingly long moment he seemed to search her deepest soul, looming over her with curiosity and fire in his eyes. How his gaze burned. It made her want to squirm, for she knew what it meant—that he wanted to possess her. And yet she felt caution in him. Had he sensed something about her? Her witchcraft, perhaps?

  He lifted his head, then gave a broad smile. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the prospect of bedding.”

  Maisie replied quickly, following her instinct. “I have been called pleasing, but you are a captain who has conquered many oceans. I am sure you have known many women and are merely flattering me.”

  He gave a husky chortle, then stepped away, unfastening his cloak and casting it aside.

  She felt regret for her curt response. She was not normally so forthright. Her master had encouraged her to speak her mind only to him, for it was safest that way.

  She shifted, sitting up and turning on the bed so that she could put her feet on the floor. Even though it was not the lush and fertile earth beneath her feet, doing so gave her some of the strength she would have drawn, had she been on land.

  “I have known enough.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “You are not like other women.”

  Her stomach knotted. What he said was true, although she could not let him believe it for longer than necessary. “I am but a woman,” she insisted, “a woman at your mercy.”

  He turned back, closing in on her. Reaching out with one hand, he slipped it around her neck, his thumb stroking the skin of her collarbone. “At my mercy, eh?”

  Maisie suppressed the shiver of anticipation that ran through her. How easily he could hold her. There was hunger in him. With her master such an action would have disturbed her greatly. With this man it only made her hope she had made a good choice. She forced herself to negotiate, to make the best of what she had given him in exchange for her passage to Scotland. “It has to be done a certain way.”

  “Oh. I know exactly how it has to be done, lassie, trust me on that point.” He dropped to his knees, sliding his hands beneath her skirts to push her legs apart.

  Maisie gasped. That was not what she meant. For her this moment was more sacred even than it would be for a normal woman. Her magic would be enriched and enhanced, her power unleashed.

  However, the way he had opened her thighs, and his obvious desire for her, was overwhelming. Her curiosity about the carnal act made her anticipate the event, but she had not realized she would be so thoroughly affected by a lover’s touch and eagerness. His actions made her feel as if she was sinking and rising all at once, her body responding with fervor. I am aroused by him.

  Maisie had not reckoned for that in her carefully laid plans of how she would rid herself of her virginity—the gem that was so deeply coveted by her master.

  “Are you ready for me?” The captain stroked a palm between her thighs, edging her skirts higher.

  The touch of his rough hands above her stockings, where the skin was bare and sensitive, set her nerves alight. “Please...please allow me a moment, sire.”

  Maisie scanned the room. Her bundle was on the floor nearby. There were items that she needed, lodestones that would bind her unleashed carnal powers to her forever.

  “A moment? It is yours. Not much longer, though.” He chuckled as he stood and began to undress. “You are too enticing to a man.”

  Maisie had to act fast, yet she could scarcely drag her attention away from the sight of the captain removing his clothes. He did it so easily, tugging off his boots and tossing them aside. Mustering herself, she reached for her bundle and pulled it closer. Opening it, she made sure the lodestones were close to the top, then placed it as discreetly as she could beneath the bed, positioning it to sit directly below her center while she lay there.

  Captain Cameron turned back to face her just as she straightened.

  He pulled the loose shirt he wore up and over his head, revealing his chest. Maisie had scarcely taken in that sight when he moved his hands to the lace on his breeches. Her gaze was drawn in that direction. There was a bulky swelling within. Inhaling sharply, she looked away, thinking herself unable to observe as he shed his remaining clothing. It was too compelling a prospect. From the corner of her eye she caught glimpses of him as he undressed. The breadth of his chest seemed even more impressive unclothed, and his upper arms were surprisingly large. The way he moved, his body rippling with male strength, enthralled her. When he shoved his breeches off and his manhood was revealed she could not stop herself from staring openly. It rose from his groin as sturdy as the bough of a tree, its state of arousal undeniable. The prospect of it invading her left her breathless. She knew it was possible, for she’d had access to illustrations in the course of her education, but for a moment she doubted it. Even so, her blood raced.

  While she was trying to decide whether she should disrobe herself, he strode over and lifted her bodily onto the mattress, then lay beside her. The heat and presence of his naked form made her move her hand to her chest in an attempt to quiet her nerves.

  “It is not a large bunk,” he said, “but it will take us both if we stay close together, which I warrant we will.” His laugh was husky and he looked her over with undisguised interest.

  His proximity was a seduction in itself. Peering up at him, she felt unsure what to do. She didn’t have to fret upon it for long. He bent to place a kiss against the skin of her throat while he pulled her skirts up and bunched them at her waist, revealing everything beneath.

  “Lord, what a sight,” he murmured, when he drew back to take a look.

  Maisie swallowed down the nerves that threatened to get the better of her, and forced herself to study his expression. He looked different with his eyes so alight with desire. Just then he traced his fingers around her exposed hip, sending a skittering sensation beneath her skin. Between her thighs, molten heat built, her body reacting to his blatant stare.

  His expression had grown dark and he looked down at her with possessive eyes. “You will be well ridden tonight, my lady,” he whispered.

  The promise sent a delicious ripple through her. Her breathing felt increasingly constricted. Tentatively, she slipped one hand around the back of his neck. The other she locked on his shoulder. She wanted to couple with a man, had desired to for a long while. Her body ached to know how it felt, to feel his thrust as he filled her. She lifted her chin as the captain’s mouth lowered toward hers. His arms went around her as their lips met.

  Her eyes closed, her body melting in submission. His mouth made hers open beneath his touch, the kiss enmeshing her in a web of sensations. A feeling of great need bloomed within her, and she pressed closer to hi
m. The totality of his strength and maleness enveloped her. Her skin prickled. She felt feverish. His tongue thrust into her mouth and she relished the experience, a moan of longing escaping her even as they kissed.

  He encouraged her to open her legs, easing them apart with his hands, and then he broke the kiss and climbed between her thighs, giving her no option but to receive him there. The moment was almost upon her. Maisie quickly thought of the precious lodestones ensconced beneath the bed, and willed the event to strengthen her in every way.

  The captain cursed under his breath at the very moment he settled his rigid manhood against her damp folds. Maisie gasped at the sudden contact. His shaft was both hard and hot, and it made her want to wriggle against it. Would that be wrong? she wondered. A trickle of moisture seeped from inside her, dampening her thighs. Heat flushed her face.

  “Ah, but you are lush down there, my lady.” His hips were hard against hers, his erection pressing against her seam, holding her folds open.

  It was so hard, and the size of his member evoked a renewed sense of doubt. Again she stared down at it, marveling at its length, for when she lifted her head she could see the head of it poking up between them, despite the bunched skirts now wedged above her waist.

  “You seem surprised,” he said teasingly, and nodded down at his shaft. Shifting his hips, he rode it up and down against her folds, which made her moan aloud. “You like the look of it enough to receive it?”

  Maisie wasn’t quite sure if she liked the look of it or not as yet. She’d seen drawings of women receiving an erect member inside their body, but she suspected this one was far too large for her to manage.

  “It arouses you to see a woman startled at your size?” she retorted defensively.

  He stared down at her, his expression heavy with lust. “It arouses me to see you eager to welcome it. Are you ready?”

  Whether it hurt or not, it had to be done. She nodded. “Yes, I am ready to...to welcome it.”

 

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