Addicted to the Duke

by Bronwen Evans

  Her heart was pounding.

  “God, I want you.” He sighed against her neck as he feathered kisses against her heated skin. “I’m so close, I can’t bear it. I long to be inside you.”

  “Hurry, take me now.” She could feel the molten heat building inside her. “Please,” she groaned, lifting one hand from the pole to reach behind her to grip his hip.

  He was panting hard. “No, no!” he whispered. “I’m selfish, but I want you so much, please forgive me.”

  It was pure feminine instinct that allowed her to help him. She reached down and caressed him, her hand tightly holding his member, throbbing and rigid and wet with her juices, against her passage as he plunged between her shaking legs.

  “You’re mine.” His breath was harsh at her ear.

  She stroked him, wholly focused on pleasuring him. “Don’t stop,” he gasped helplessly. His voice sent tingles rushing through her limbs, along nerve endings, flooding her body with sensations, her senses teetering on the edge of a sensual precipice. She was soaring high above the clouds once more, her eyes tightly shut as he brought her to the peak of the wave, pure delight sweeping through her, carrying her up and away, then slowly receding, leaving her floating.

  Then just when she thought she’d float away, she felt his hard length enter her from behind.

  He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t want gentleness. She wanted him, hard and fast, and that is what he gave. All of himself.

  He thrust harder, bending her forward slightly so he could go deeper. Her body went up in flames, every nerve ending screaming for release.

  Together they spiraled higher and higher until she climaxed, and to her joy she carried him with her into a stunning plateau of ecstasy. He screamed out her name over and over in Turkish and she clung to the pole wishing they could do this forever.

  Finally, she slumped back against him when her legs could not keep her upright on her knees.

  Time vanished, leaving only sensation and the joy of being held in his arms.

  “I feel alive again. I’m just getting warmed up,” he whispered as he laid her down and rolled her under him, reentering her in a slow penetration that made her toes curl. Moving slowly, their frantic coupling of before slowed to a tender, tidal rhythm where they matched each other breath for breath, pulse for pulse. Near exhaustion, she raised her head for a last kiss, wanting to inhale his essence into herself.

  “I might be yours, but you are mine, and I’ll never let you go again,” she breathed against his lips as she curved her hips upward and clasped him internally with voluptuous power.

  He shattered in a final convulsion, where his seed flooded into her. She hoped it would take root. She wasn’t naïve. She knew they still were not safe, that he wasn’t in any condition to flee, and that anything could happen to either one of them.

  Chapter 24

  As the day drew to an end no one came knocking on the door. They made love again later in the afternoon, ensuring the noise they made kept everyone away.

  Alex wanted to escape more than he could bear, but he knew they had to wait. He needed to place his faith in Jacob. They might not survive in the water for hours—his condition for one, sharks for another—so the closer they were to the Angelica before jumping overboard, the better.

  Alex could feel his head clearing, but he was still not as strong as he’d like. He stood at the porthole for fresh air every now and then. His head was slowly clearing.

  Finally he saw what he’d been hoping for all day. A sail. The Angelica was not far behind them. They would have to act fast, because if the sailors spotted the ship following they would come knocking on the door to alert Murad.

  Just as that thought had entered his head, a rap sounded at the door. Hestia panicked and knocked over the opium pipe.

  The knock came again, more urgent.

  Alex walked heavily to the door and in a voice he hoped matched Murad’s, he spoke in Turkish. “Who dares interrupt me?” His two years in captivity had allowed him to learn Turkish. Back then, he’d quickly realized it was safer to know what those around him were saying.

  The reply was from Murad’s first mate. “The lord’s ship is following us, my master.”

  Alex copied Murad’s laugh. “Is he, by Allah? Turn the ship around. We will fight the infidel and each man can keep whatever he captures.” He indicated to Hestia to moan loudly. “Come and get me when we are in cannon range.”

  “Yes, my sultan,” came the reply as the footsteps moved away.

  He turned to Hestia. She looked so beautiful lying on the bed, her naked body one of the most wondrous sights he’d ever seen in this world.

  “I have a plan, but it will only work if you do everything I say. It’s a stroke of luck I’ve managed to get this ship turned around to engage the Angelica, as we will be closer when we have to jump overboard. The downside is the men could fire upon the ship and an all-out battle could commence.”

  “So we wait to sail closer and dive over the side.”

  He pulled the caftan over his head, then moved behind the screen to Murad’s body and removed his turban. The blood had dried and it was only on one side. He brushed off as much of the caked blood as he could. When he put it on he tried to hide all his fair hair under it.

  He returned from behind the screen.

  “From a distance, with your back to them, you’ll fool most men.”

  He nodded. “Jumping is dangerous from this height; it would be better if we could lower a boat.”

  Hestia put on her silk garment. “What if we can’t? We won’t have much time before they realize you are not Murad.”

  “But maybe enough time for me to throw over a rope ladder and keep them at bay until you climb down far enough to make a safe dive.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And then you’ll dive as well?”

  “Eventually, yes, but if I could disable the ship in some way first, it would give the Angelica time to collect you and sail safety away.”

  “Disable? On your own?”

  “I have a plan to set fire to the ship by setting this room ablaze and locking the door when we leave. It should be well alight before anyone realizes.”

  Hestia folded her arms. “Smart. I like that idea. But whatever we do, we do it together.”

  He took a moment to work out how to approach this delicate situation. “I want you to survive. You deserve to survive. You are only in this situation because of me—”

  “No. Because of my father, actually.”

  Damn. “Well, I should have left you in England.”

  “But you were right. The only way to protect me was to take me with you. Fredrick would have married me by now if I’d remained in England. And likely killed me.”

  Damn. “Well, you’re a lady, and it’s my duty to save you.”

  “True, but there is no reason to do anything crazy and not save yourself as well.”

  Damn. “Fine. We do it my way, and if I can save you and myself I will, but if I say go without me you must. I love you so much, and you might already carry my child.”

  Her eyes lit with anger. “Why do you always try to push me away? You kept me at arm’s length for years, then you pushed me toward David; now you’re telling me I’d be better on my own. If you love me, for once can’t you fight for me—for us?”

  Her words hit him like a cannonball. He’d been fighting all his life: first for his country, then for Tulay, then for himself, and every step of the way he’d lost a piece of himself. Didn’t she understand that if he lost her, he’d never survive, so he would try his very best to make sure she lived, even at the cost of his life?

  Anger made his words come out harsher than he meant. “Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here. When I open the door, walk out. You will draw the guard’s eye, giving me enough time to kill him.”

  “Fine, but if you don’t live through this, I swear I’ll never forgive you.” With that she moved to the door.

  Alex gathered the pillows and ot
her bedding and piled them on Murad’s body. They found a flint next to the opium pipe. He lit one small corner of a pillow, hoping it would give them enough time to get off the ship, but also spread a fire that would have the sailors focused on saving the ship rather than battling the Angelica.

  —

  Their plan worked perfectly. The guard went down with a blade stuck in his neck. Alex took a few precious seconds to search him for weapons. Only the large saber was in evidence, but it was better than nothing. He picked it up and took Hestia’s elbow.

  “Look scared.”

  “I am scared,” Hestia hissed.

  Once they were on the deck, they saw men busy reacting to the first mate’s orders. They were loading cannons and opening up the sails. Alex hurried them to the railing and waved the saber in the air, calling out a Turkish war cry.

  As he’d thought, the men saw only Hestia.

  He moved farther to the stern and spied a rope ladder and, as luck would have it, a rowboat. He would prefer to be in the boat, because there was always the chance of sharks in these waters.

  With no one watching he threw the ladder over the side, and with two swipes of the saber he cut the ropes securing the boat at each end, sending the rowboat tumbling toward the water. He’d right it when they reached the water, but God was smiling, for it landed the right way up with a major splash.

  A few sailors’ eyes turned their way, but just when Alex thought they were in trouble, the first waft of smoke began pouring out of the hatchway.

  “Jump on my back and put your arms around my neck. We need to get to the rowboat before it floats too far away.”

  Soon they were in the water and swimming for the boat. A cry behind them rose loud and clear and Alex heard a musket fire. A small plop by his head saw him swim harder. Hestia was in front of him and he hoped she was out of range. Most of the men on deck were still loading cannons, while others ran to fight the fire.

  Once they reached the boat, Alex pulled himself over the side, then turned to help Hestia. Men were still firing at them, but soon the flames were so high they had to stop and try to help.

  The Angelica had altered course to come toward their rowboat, and Alex heaved a sigh of relief. Jacob had seen the fire and their boat, and understood his plan.

  Alex took up the oars and began to row. Thankfully it was a calm sea and he made good progress toward his approaching ship.

  They were nearing the Angelica, which had gone to anchor, when they heard a huge explosion behind them and Murad’s ship blew into a million pieces.

  “The fire hit the powder kegs,” Alex said.

  “There were two women on that ship that I know of. Will anyone survive?”

  “I’ll get Jacob to sail the Angelica past the wreckage, and if there are any survivors we can pick them up, but it’s unlikely.”

  He watched tears well in her eyes. “They didn’t have much of a life, and now they are dead.” Her tears started to fall. “But at least they are now free.”

  They reached the ship and the rope ladder that had been thrown over the side. Hestia was still crying as they climbed to the deck. Jacob greeted them with a grim look on his face and quickly gave Hestia his jacket. He pointed to the horizon.

  Alex followed his finger and saw sails—two or three ships.

  “Best we get moving. We need to head for Corfu Town and rendezvous with Lord Pembroke’s ship. It’s safer in numbers.”

  Jacob soon had the ship in full sail before Alex, looking through his spyglass, yelled. “Stop! It’s not pirates, it’s Stephen.”

  The Marquis of Clevedon and his fleet of ships had finally arrived.

  “Bloody late as usual,” grumbled Jacob.

  “But now we should have safe passage home. With our two ships, the Angelica, the earl’s, plus Marquis’s three, no one is likely to pursue us.”

  Chapter 25

  They made the consulate in Corfu Town their base while the ships were being readied for the journey home.

  Fredrick Cary was under arrest and would sail home to England in the brig of her father’s ship, to be tried for the abduction of her, and the attempted murder of Alex, and for impersonating an earl. He would likely hang at the end of a long rope and Hestia could not bring herself to care. Fredrick had put her, and worse still, Alex, through hell. He deserved all he got.

  Fredrick’s attempt to force her into marriage had of course been ruled null and void and she was still free to wed Alex whenever he asked.

  The past few days had been interesting watching Stephen and Alex interact. Stephen was good for Alex because his friend made Alex laugh, and goodness knew Alex needed more joy in his life.

  That evening was the first time they would all dine together, and Hestia wanted to look her best. She had eaten quietly with her father the past two nights and she was looking forward to having an evening with Alex and Stephen.

  Once freshly bathed and dressed, she walked outside to the consulate’s beautiful walled garden. Dinner would be served in a half hour at nine. She had not had a private moment with Alex since arriving in Corfu Town and she missed him. She also wanted to see if the days had seen him change his mind about her. She was not sure what she was expecting him to do, but she wanted a proposal and to know he would allow her to journey home on his ship.

  She walked among the flowers enjoying their scent. It was a miniature English garden in this overheated world. Someone must put a lot of care and attention into caring for it.

  The beauty of the roses calmed the anxiety that was making her stomach feel like a mule had kicked it. Her fate relied on Alex standing up to her father, who would not be pleased with the match for some reason. When they had arrived, the earl had given Alex a very frosty welcome, even after all Alex had done for his earldom and his daughter. Plus, when it came to fighting for her…well, his history of standing up to her father was not good. He needed to fight harder.

  She hoped Alex was talking with her father right now.

  Perhaps, now that they were out of danger, he was having doubts. She worried that with everything that had happened to Alex, he didn’t know how to love. She knew he had feelings for her, but could he love her?

  “I have enough love for both of us,” she quietly said out loud to herself, praying she would be enough for a man so terribly hurt by life.

  She had a fair idea now what Murad had done to him. It seemed he treated his male slaves similarly to how he treated his female ones. She had read Greek plays and understood how two men fornicated.

  Hestia didn’t blame him for the bitterness and dissolution he felt. It was his inability to lay any of his horrid past to rest that broke her heart. She couldn’t erase his memories for him, but she could help ease the pain. On a sigh she realized that only Alex could get rid of ghosts from his past. And it seemed like he wasn’t willing or able to do so.

  “Beautiful night.”

  Hestia whirled around to find Alex leaning against a gnarled olive tree. His fair hair glinted silver in lanterns hanging around the walls of the garden, the setting highlighting both his earthly beauty and the torment in his eyes.

  Unable to bear his expression, she turned away and closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around her waist. She wanted to scream at the injustice of the situation. Please fight for me…

  “Do I not deserve a welcome?”

  “It depends on the outcome of your talk with my father.”

  “Your are a vixen at times, my sweet. I have yet to speak with him. There are things we must discuss first.”

  She turned back to him and stared him in the eye. “I’m not sure how I should greet you then. How does one greet a man you have shared your body with?”

  His lips curved into that heartbreaking smile of his. “Hello, my lover? Or, hello, my friend?”

  She smiled. “Oh, you make me so mad…I’ve never wanted to be just your friend.”

  Alex moved closer. “I know you can never hate me,” he teased. “It’s just not in you to do so.”<
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  Hestia wanted so desperately to reach out to him, to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close. She also wanted to pick up the heavy stick lying on the ground and hit him over the head until some sense entered that thick skull of his.

  His smile dimmed. “I wish I could truly be the man you think I am. But sometimes we cannot escape our past.”

  Hestia reached toward him. But he angled away, not wanting to be touched.

  “It’s not escape from your past that you need. You need to embrace it, realize what you have endured has helped you become the man you are today. Murad’s dead; show everyone that your past won’t stop you from having a happy and fulfilled life.”

  “They say war changes a man. The war with the Turks did change me. It made me realize that fighting for what you believe in is important. I was proud to have done my duty, until Murad’s pirates captured me. In captivity, I lost my pride, my heart, and my soul. I’m not sure I have anything left to give to anyone that is worth a damn.”

  She wanted to scream that there was so much to love about him. Why couldn’t he love himself?

  Murad had taken him to Bodrum, where he had been kept as a slave. Having met the pirate in person, she had an understanding of what that must’ve been like for Alex. She had once thought the vagaries of her life had been cruel, losing her mother, her father basically ignoring her, the lack of any siblings, and the loneliness she felt on a regular basis, but she had not known how deep cruelty could truly go.

  “You have so much good in you. You worked hard to build your estate, you look after those who are loyal to you, and you helped me.”

  Alex looked at her with pity. “I helped myself. I came for Murad more than to rescue your father.”

  “You still protected me. Jacob told me why you went willingly with Murad. You allowed yourself to be captured again, knowing what he would do to you, just to keep me safe.”

  He shrugged. “At least I knew what to expect this time. You have had a taste of how Murad operated. When he captured me the first time, he had me hooked on opium within weeks, and then he controlled me. I didn’t understand at the time what he was doing, what the drug was doing to me. Most doctors in England don’t understand either. I have seen women go crazy if the laudanum they have been given for their headaches runs out and they cannot get any more. Once you are used to the opium, your body wants more, more, and more, until you will do anything to get the drug.”