“You’re with him, are you?” the barman grunted, looking her up and down as though she were one of the easy women who worked around Port Royal. She wished she could invoke the Adams name, but the fewer people who knew their identity here, the better. “Well, at least you’re cleaner than the other ones who come here.”
Eleanor bit back her harsh retort, managing a hard smile as the barman handed her the whisky. Picking it up, she walked over to the captain, her breath coming a little more quickly as she approached him.
“Did I hear the barman say you are a captain?” she asked smoothly, sitting down opposite him without invitation.
A pair of cold blue eyes looked at her warily. “I did not think the Navy was much admired in these parts.”
Eleanor pretended to be upset and pouted. “I was simply bringing you another whisky, sir,” she replied quietly, lowering her eyelids. “I am sorry if that was the wrong thing to do. You simply look a little unhappy. I thought I might change that.”
The coldness in his eyes dimmed as he raised his eyebrows at her and, to Eleanor’s shock, she realized that he was quite a handsome man. A surge of desire pulled at her as he sat back and studied her with cool blue eyes framed by chiselled cheekbones. His intense gaze took in the long tousled locks around her shoulders and the slender figure, her breasts swelling over the neckline of her blouse, though not as suggestively as most of the barmaids. His countenance changed, and he smiled at her, surprising her with his crooked grin, a dimple etched into one cheek. He ran a hand through his straight dark hair as it fell from its tie, and her fingers itched to feel its silkiness. This is your enemy, Eleanor, she reminded herself. You feel nothing but hatred.
“I should not have been so harsh,” he murmured, reaching for what was now his fifth whisky. “My temper quite gets the better of me at times, particularly in days of late. Now tell me, what has brought a woman as beautiful as you to place like this?”
“The same thing that brings us all here in one way or another,” she replied with a coy smile of her own. “Pirate treasure.”
He chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. “I suppose you’re right. Why choose this table, then? You must know an officer of the Navy is not the place to find your treasure.”
“You looked so lost over here by yourself,” she replied, with what she hoped was a look of pity. “I thought you could use another drink — and some company.”
“Your presence is welcome,” he replied, leaning in and twirling a lock of her hair around his index finger. “I am rather lonely.”
Eleanor said nothing, warning growing in her heart. She had to leave, now. The first mate had been quite right, this was not a good idea. Clearly, the captain assumed she was offering more than just another drink.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, getting up from the table as gracefully as she could. “There are other customers.”
His hand shot out and grabbed her fingers, keeping her by him. “But the barman will not mind, I am sure,” he said, firmly. Eleanor saw him lift his head and catch the barman’s eye, who, to her horror, simply chuckled and tipped his head towards one of the doors to his left.
This was all going disastrously wrong. A surge of fire swept through Eleanor as she forced herself to sit back down. She must behave as any other woman might, not the woman she truly was. Other women — particularly those found in this port —would accept the captain’s attentions eagerly, whereas she despised being treated as such an easy mark.
“Can I get you another whisky, sir?” she asked, hoping that this might be a way to make her escape.
“No, I think not,” the captain murmured, throwing back the remains of his glass before trying to stand. He swayed slightly, having drunk a great deal of whisky in a very short space of time. “I have not had a woman’s company for a long while now. And you have a spark to you that speaks to me. Perhaps you’re just what I need to clear my head and lift my spirits.”
Eleanor felt her stomach tighten as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and led her away from the table. This was all happening so quickly. She could not simply run from him, for then his suspicions would be alerted at once. He might come searching for her, only to discover her father and then the ship. Why had she not listened to Morgan and simply left the man alone?
This worst part of all this was that Eleanor had to admit to herself that she was not completely opposed to the idea of going to bed with this man. Strong muscles revealed themselves through his shirt, and his drunken clumsiness was lending somewhat of a charm to his bearing. She felt like a traitor as her body and mind struggled inside of her.
“Top of the stairs to your left,” the barman grinned, as the captain slammed down some money on top of the bar. “Thank you, sir. Most generous.”
He thinks he’s paying for my services, Eleanor realized, going cold all over. She tried to breathe slowly as he stumbled up the stairs, her mind working furiously. Maybe she would be able to knock him out somehow, and then make her escape.
“What is it that you need relief from, sir?” she asked, hating that her voice trembled a little. “Perhaps I can help you in other ways.”
He snorted, pushing the door open slightly too hard so that it banged loudly against the next wall. "Unless you can find Captain Adams, my dear girl, then I do not think you can relieve my torment."
"Ah, so you are hunting a pirate," she trilled. "Come now, sir. If it is causing you so much difficulty, then why do you not simply give up?" she asked, trying to keep her voice airy. "I am sure the Navy will find much better things for you to do. After all, he is only one pirate and there are so many around Port Royal."
Throwing his hat and coat onto the chair in the corner of the room, the captain faced her, his face ravaged. The change in his demeanor shocked her, although she kept her features schooled into a sympathetic smile.
“I dream of freedom,” he rasped, stepping closer and grasping her arms with strong hands, as if willing her to feel his desperation. “I can have none until I catch him. The Navy does not accept failure.”
“Must you stay in the Navy? Have you no other options?”
“Not if I am to keep my family from dishonor.”
“Leaving the Navy would cause this?”
“They were shocked when I joined the Navy. Now I have spent three years in a search for one man. I am a laughingstock, but if I find him, bring him to justice — well then, perhaps, I will have restored the honor I lost and can find a new path.”
Eleanor looked up into his eyes, finding them cold but haunted – and in that moment, something shifted within her. “You feel you’re trapped.”
“Trapped.” His mouth curled into a grimace. “That is exactly what I am.”
“Is it not enough to see the world, as you search for him?”
“I’d prefer to see the world on my own terms,” he replied, a faraway look in his eye. “However, I have seen more than I would have ever thought possible. Even this town, as dirty as it is, has beaches that are something to behold, and the palm trees and crystal blue ocean are simply… magnificent.”
“No, I do not suppose they have beaches such as these back home in Britain,” she replied with a smile. “Where will you go next?”
“I’ll follow the pirate, until the day I catch up to him. I should hope that day comes sooner rather than later.” Tipping his head, his eyes blazed into hers as he ran his hands lightly down her arms, catching her hands. He unconsciously stroked her wrists, sending tingles through her body. “Over and over I search for him, and always come up short.”
“Perhaps you are not meant to capture this particular pirate,” she said, which stilled the stroke of his fingers.
“Why this sudden care in Captain Adams?” He asked, eyeing her warily from somewhat glassy eyes. “Do you know the man?”
She let out what she hoped was a carefree laugh.
“The fabled pirate Captain Adams? I could only wish. As I’m sure you know, Captain, he does not frequent such establishm
ents as this. I’m afraid you will have to continue your search for Captain Adams — and your freedom — elsewhere.”
“That I will. In the meantime, perhaps you can help me remember what freedom tastes like.”
Eleanor shivered as his mouth descended, catching his kiss and finding that she didn’t shrink from it. It was hard and firm, but she refused to allow him dominance, kissing him back with as much passion as she could muster.
What are you doing? came the voice in her head. This is the man who has been hunting your father!
She couldn’t think straight. His fingers were already tugging at her bodice, clearly desperate to get to her body underneath. It wouldn’t be the first time Eleanor had been with a man, although it had been some time since the last. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence. While she and her father were both pirates, she was still his daughter and as far as he was aware, no one had ever touched her, so she had been discreet.
Struggling with what to do, Eleanor couldn’t help her gasp as his hands found her buckled skirt, undoing it quickly. Taking the opportunity, he slipped his tongue in to battle with hers, his hands running over the curve of her hips.
There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. She was pressed back against the wall of the small room, knowing that if she made any attempt to leave, he may come after her and eventually discover her father’s whereabouts. If she remained, then she would have to play the part of a working girl and wait until he fell asleep, as they always did. And, deep down, she wanted this. Her soul would never submit to it if she didn’t.
The shirt fell from her shoulders, her skin now bare to him. The lace ties of her drawers fell prey to his eager hands and soon Eleanor found herself entirely divested of her garments, while he remained completely clothed.
Stepping back, he ran his eyes over her, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Perfect,” he murmured, moving back in front of her again and boldly caressing her breasts. “You’re just lovely. Perhaps my fortunes have turned and you’re the good luck charm I’ve been looking for.”
* * *
Eleanor could hardly breathe. The sensations he was sparking in her told her that she found this man more than attractive, as desire slowly pooled in her belly. She didn't attempt to remove his hands from her but rather gave in to his rather urgent attentions.
“You are still clothed, sir,” she murmured, closing her eyes as his mouth sought hers again. “If you wish to make this quick, then may I suggest that – ”
She did not have time to finish her sentence, for he broke the kiss for a moment so that he could throw his shirt over his head. The rest of his clothes were easily discarded until Eleanor felt warm skin pressing against her own.
Her breath caught as his lips moved from her mouth down her jaw and to the curve of her throat, as his hands kneaded her breasts. Heat burst through her veins as he continued his exploration of her body, leaving her trembling with unspent need.
“You are a warm one, that is for sure,” he muttered, slowly lowering his head further so that he might catch one of her nipples between his teeth. Eleanor could not help the moan that came from within, betraying her need for him. He chuckled low in his throat, before scooping her up in his arms and depositing her on the bed.
His intrusion into her body was immediate, hot and sharp. Eleanor squeezed her eyes shut as he began to move, lengthening his strokes. Her body, which had tightened upon his first entry, began to slowly relax as she became used to his presence, only to grow hotter with the fire he was building in her.
Eleanor was sure that he was only interested in his own pleasure, but could not stop the desire growing in her own body. His hands continued to caress her curves, roving over her with reckless abandon. Looking up into his eyes, she saw the spark of heat in them and heard the way his breathing came more and more quickly. He was reaching his peak, but she did not intend to allow him to do so without finding her own release.
Boldly, she grasped his hand and pressed it to her center, crying out at the slightest of touches. Astonishment stopped his movement for a mere second before a wicked smile came over his face and he pressed her center again. His movements were rough and hasty, but Eleanor did not care. Arching her back, she closed her eyes and lost herself entirely, only aware of the growing tension that drew her ever closer to the brink.
He moved faster now, groaning as he neared the edge of his release. Eleanor met him there, her body practically coming off the bed as she convulsed around him. Stars exploded in her vision, blood thundering through her veins.
Pulling himself from her body, Eleanor heard him shout aloud as he found his release, his seed dampening the bed beside her. Then he collapsed forward, still breathing hard.
“I was right — I do feel much better already,” he said, his eyes already beginning to close. He absently stroked her hair as he slowly drifted off to sleep. “I needed that — you. Needed you. I paid the barman for your services.”
She slowly got up from the bed. She had slept with the enemy — and enjoyed it. Dressing as quickly as she could, Eleanor tried not to feel the shame that crept into her soul, unable to even give him one final look as she left the bedchamber.
What had she done?
6
Hurrying towards the shore, Eleanor saw her father making his way to the rowboats. She ran to catch up with him.
“Papa, we must leave at once,” she said, urgently.
He nodded, his face grim. “Yes, Morgan has already spoken to me about Captain Harrington’s presence here. Although I am not exactly pleased that you went to speak with him.”
She prayed he would never find out that she had done so much more than speak with him. “I had to find out what he knew.”
“And did you?” Her father’s eyes were angry, glaring at her as they made their way towards the small boats that would carry them back to the Gunsway.
Her throat spasmed. “Yes, I did, Papa.”
Snorting, he shook his head, grasped her hand and tugged her into the boat. “Hurry now, Eleanor. We must make haste.”
Eleanor grasped at one of the oars, while three more of the crew took the others. As they rowed, the boat began to cut through the water, moving quickly away from Port Royal.
Eleanor did not want to think about what had just occurred between her and Captain Harrington. How she had let it happen, she was not sure. She had made one excuse after the other to herself, until she found herself underneath him on the bed. Perhaps it had been too long since she had had any kind of affection from a man, but to give herself to the one man who was intent on bringing her father into custody was utterly shameful. Heat burned her cheeks as her entire being filled with humiliation. If her father was to ever hear about what she had done he would feel utterly betrayed.
“You do not need to worry, Eleanor,” came her father’s voice, cutting into her thoughts and making her jump. “We will be away before nightfall. The captain will not even know we were here until it is too late.”
She managed a tremulous smile. “Just as always.”
He chuckled, his face lit with good humour. “Precisely.”
His humor slowly died away as his face grew paler until it was practically translucent. His hand slowly climbed its way up to his chest, his breathing becoming labored.
“Papa?” Eleanor gasped, dropping her oar and reaching for him. “Papa!”
“I’m well,” he gasped, his words hoarse and weak. “Just some pain.”
Eleanor grasped his free hand, entirely helpless. His face had now a pale sheen of gray, his hand scrabbling at the collar of his shirt.
“Hurry!” she cried to the crew on the boat, still holding onto her father’s hand as they looked on anxiously. “The Captain is sick!” They responded in earnest, eager to do all they could for their beloved captain.
Thankfully, by the time they reached the Gunsway, her father’s color was slowly beginning to return to normal as his pain ebbed away.
“I am sure I must have h
ad one too many mugs of ale,” he joked, although Eleanor could see the line of concern on his face. “To my cabin, I think.”
Eleanor knew he was not as strong as he was trying to show, her sharp eyes noticing the way he stumbled as he walked. She was beside him at once, wrapping her hand around his arm in an attempt to support him. Whatever had happened to her father, it had taken his strength from him, leaving him weak and tired.
“I just need to rest, Eleanor,” he said, quietly. “You can run the ship until I awaken, can’t you?”
"Of course, of course, I can," she replied firmly, hoping that the crew would simply accept her command without question. "Are you sure you are not in any more pain, Papa?"
He sat down heavily on his bunk, pressing her hand with his. “I feel no more pain, Eleanor, I promise. I just need to sleep, perhaps, for I am quite worn out.” His smile fell a little flat. “Hearing Captain Harrington was at Port Royal did surprise me, I must say. It seems he has followed us here, somehow.”
“Then we shall go to open water for a time,” she said, firmly. “Or perhaps near the Iron Caves? That way we can go ashore if we need to.”
Patting her hand, he handed her his hat before leaning over until he was lying flat on his bunk. His eyes began to close almost immediately. "You decide, Eleanor," he murmured, apparently already too tired to stay awake for even a moment longer. His breath grew heavy as he drifted into sleep, leaving her feeling worried for his health and anxious over her new role.
Walking outside onto the deck, she glanced at the first mate, who gave her a barely perceptible nod. Apparently, he was willing to listen and take commands from her, which bolstered her courage.
“The captain is unwell,” she stated, trying to keep her voice firm. “He has appointed me captain until he is recovered.”
She paused for a brief moment but didn't catch a single word of dissent. Instead, each of the crew simply looked up at her, a few nodding, all waiting for her to tell them what they should do next.
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 4
