by Andrea Kane
“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced down at her luggage. “Is that all you brought with you?”
“That’s all.”
“I’ll take it down t’ the cap’n’s … t’ yer cabin right away,” he corrected himself. “Then, I’ll go tell Cap’n Barrett that you’ve arrived and are safe below.” He scampered off like a rabbit.
From the time the merchant brig left York and began its journey through Lake Ontario toward the great Saint Lawrence until bedtime Alex did not see Drake. Knowing him as she did, she was certain that he had remained at the helm to assist his men. She understood. First and foremost came his ship and his crew.
At dinnertime Smitty brought her a tray of food and asked that she remain in her quarters in case of any danger. Alex did not need to ask whose orders those were, nor did she question them. Now was not the time.
It was after midnight when Smitty finally persuaded a tight-lipped Drake to go below.
“Captain, there has been no incident as yet and no sign of an American ship. You will need all of your resources over the next few days to guide us through the Saint Lawrence. Please try to get some sleep.”
Drake ran his fingers through his windblown hair and nodded. “All right, Smitty. But I insist that you wake me if there is the slightest hint of trouble.”
“Of course, Captain.”
Drake made his way to the lower deck, knowing he should be exhausted. Instead, his body was taut with the stress of the day, the blood pulsing through his veins, energy tingling through every pore of his body, making him wide awake. Only his eyes burned from the strain of scanning the horizon for hostile ships.
Drake opened his cabin door, then kicked it closed behind him.
How could he have forgotten? The beautiful vision who stood at the porthole, who turned suddenly amid a rustle of silk at his entrance, who stared at him through wide gray eyes … that vision was his wife.
For a long moment he remained motionless, drinking in the sight of her. After nearly twelve hours of hell, she looked like an angel ready to guide him to heaven. The oil lamp was dimly lit, casting golden shadows that lingered on her tousled honey-colored hair, the delicate features of her face, the bare expanse of her shoulders and arms. The ivory of her night rail, shimmering and soft, clung to every perfect curve of her small, lush body.
His wife.
The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, igniting his every nerve and pushing his already overcharged senses beyond rational thought. Suddenly Drake could feel his entire body shaking, and his burning gaze locked with Alex’s startled one. He watched her expression change from surprise to awareness to apprehension and realization. This was their wedding night. And despite the war, despite all that had transpired before this day, this moment, nothing and no one could stop what was going to happen between them.
He spoke at last. “Alex. Come here.”
It was an order. She had sworn never to obey an order from Drake.
She walked across the room to him.
He made no move to touch her at first, just stared down into her face, reveling in the fact that she was his. His.
“Is it safe?” she whispered at last.
“The ship is. You’re not.” His eyes burned with a green fire that seemed to singe her skin. His words made her shiver.
“Drake …”
He seemed not to hear her, but brought his hand up to stroke her cheek, down her neck to her shoulder, then along the length of her arm. He grasped her hand and raised it to his mouth.
“Forever,” he murmured. “I’ve waited forever for you. But no longer, my beautiful wife. Tonight I am going to possess you, body and soul, to savor every inch of you, to take and take until there is nothing left for you to give. And in return I am going to bring your body to life, to set fire to every part of you, to make you twist and cry out and finally beg until you come apart in my arms again and again, until you have no doubt that you are mine.” He drew her fingers into his mouth, licking each one lightly.
Alex closed her eyes as waves of pleasure swept over her, dizzying her senses. As if from a distance she heard herself moan.
“Look at me, Alexandria,” he commanded.
Her eyes flew open.
Drake smiled, a slow, sensual smile that wrapped itself about her like a heady spell. He guided her hand around his neck, reaching for her other hand to do the same. “Now kiss me.” He saw the uncertainty in her eyes. “You’ve done it before,” he reminded her in a husky, teasing voice. “Remember?”
“I remember,” she whispered.
“So do I.” He didn’t wait, but lowered his mouth to hers slowly, an inch at a time, until he brushed her lips in the lightest of caresses.
Alex tightened her hold on him, pressing her palms into the corded muscles at the nape of his neck.
Drake chuckled. “Want something, princess?” he murmured against her soft mouth.
Alex stood on tiptoe, sliding her fingers into Drake’s thick hair, anchoring his head more firmly, tugging him down to her. She opened her mouth the way he had taught her and traced a slow path across his bottom lip with her tongue.
Drake tensed. All playfulness having vanished, he lifted Alex off the floor and crushed her against his chest, opening his mouth and possessing hers with an urgency like none he had ever known. Again and again he kissed her, bruising her mouth with his rapacious need, which flamed higher with each blazing contact.
He carried her to the bed, never breaking the kiss, and lowered himself on top of her on the rumpled sheets. He had planned to go slowly, to tease her to the very limits of her control, to wait until she begged before he took her.
He had to have her now.
The wildness inside him grew steadily, destroying his reason. He had always known that she affected him as no other woman ever had, but this desperate, violent need was more than he could bear. She was soft and clinging beneath him, unaware of the torture she inflicted on him with each sensual twist of her body. Blindly Drake tugged at the straps of her nightgown, urging them down. At the same time he realized the impossibility of removing it when their bodies were wedged so tightly together. He couldn’t wait, and he couldn’t let her go—not an inch, not for a moment.
He slid his arms beneath her and with one violent tug ripped the gown in two and dropped the shreds to the floor.
Alex gasped. The shock of his action and the realization of her own nudity were too much for her. Instantly Drake began to caress her back in slow, soothing motions, softening his devouring kiss to a gentle seduction of her mouth.
“I’m sorry, princess,” he rasped, struggling, yet unable to slow down. “I … lose all control … around you.” His hands did not remain still. The moment he felt her relax he began to explore her body, touching, stroking, shaking with hunger.
Alex closed her eyes, melting into the bed. He had touched her before, but never like this. Never without a shred of clothing to protect her. Never without the realization that they would have to stop. Never as her husband.
Her body took over. With feline grace she arched against his touch, moving sensually as his hands roamed the length of her. Their tongues warred, mated, retreated, then mated again. And suddenly Alex wanted more.
“I want to touch you, too,” she murmured into his open mouth. She slid her hands around to the front of his shirt. “Drake?”
With a raw sound of animal need Drake propelled himself from the bed. Never taking his eyes off her, he tore the clothes from his sweat-drenched body, flinging them to the floor. He paused for a mere second before he lowered himself back down over her trembling body.
“You are so beautiful,” he ground out, barely able to speak. “I want to look at you … all of you … but I can’t. Not this time. Oh, God, you feel so good. If I don’t fill you soon I’m going to explode.”
Alex was reeling. The sight of him, huge and aroused, had made her breath catch and her heart pound. The thought of him driving himself into her scared her to death. She was a
bout to tell him so, to pull away, when he lowered his weight upon her. She whimpered at the sensation of their naked, melding skin. And all thoughts of denial were lost.
“Drake … oh, Drake.” She wrapped her arms around him, gliding her hands down the rippling muscles of his back to his taut buttocks.
He groaned as if in pain. Raising himself on his elbows, he stared down at her with eyes that were almost black with passion. “What are you doing to me?” he rasped.
She paused. “Should I not touch you like this?”
“You should touch me everywhere, princess. And not only like that.” He gave a husky laugh. “There are so many ways …”
“Teach me.”
Ablaze with desire, he stared into her passion-flushed face. “Later. Not now. I’d never last.” He lowered his head to her throat, lightly licking the sensitive hollow until she moaned with pleasure. “Oh, Alex, Alex, I’m on fire for you.” His mouth moved down from her throat until it reached her breast. He brought his hand up to cup it, circling with his tongue over and over.
Bursts of heat flowed through Alex’s body as she arched up to Drake’s teasing mouth. When he knew she was desperate, he took the throbbing nipple between his lips and lightly tugged. She cried out, tossing her head from side to side on the pillow.
Her reaction was nearly his undoing. He repeated his action with her other breast, struggling for a control that seemed out of his grasp.
“I can’t wait.” The words were wrenched from inside him, an admission of weakness that he could no longer deny. Even as he fought against it, he was pressing her thighs apart with his knees, reaching down to touch her where he so desperately needed to be. She was warm and wet and soft. And he was frantic.
“Alex,” he murmured her name, sliding his fingers up and down, stroking gently, feeling her tense at the unexpected caress. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. Let me touch you.” He shuddered. “God, you are so wet, so warm.” He slid his fingers inside her. “So tight.” When he heard her ragged moan of pleasure, felt her open to his penetration, something inside him snapped. “Now, love.” He withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at the entrance to her body. He slid his hands under her, lifting her to meet him. “Take me inside you. Wrap yourself around me … Alex, love me.”
With those words he surged forward, tearing the thin membrane that guarded her womanhood, making her his wife.
The pain was a sharp stab within her, suspending the intense pleasure and making her cry out. She tensed her legs, and her hands, which had been clinging to Drake’s back, moved around to his chest, trying to push him off her.
Drake was aware of Alex’s pain, her bewilderment. But he was more aware of the incredible, euphoric feeling of being inside her at last. She was so very small and tight; he could feel her stretching to hold him, feel her body struggling to accept his intrusion. He gritted his teeth at the intense pleasure that coursed through his body. He knew he had to reassure her, to comfort her, but he could not speak, was afraid to move.
It took every fiber of his self-control not to spill himself at that moment. But he wanted more … he wanted it all. And he wanted it with his wife.
It was her soft shudder of pain that gave him the strength he needed. He pressed his lips into her hair, his thumbs making lazy circles on her hips.
“Don’t leave me now, love,” he whispered. “I promise you, the best is yet to be.” He inhaled the scent of her hair and felt his body throb helplessly inside hers. “I’ll wait,” he managed, “until you get used to the feel of me.” He rocked his hips gently against hers, giving her a small taste of what it would be like for them.
Slowly, slowly, he felt her begin to relax beneath him, felt her thighs unclench and ease. Without moving his body he slid his hand between them, finding and caressing her where their bodies were joined, immersing himself in her dewy wetness.
The pain receded. The passion was reignited at a fever pitch. Alex whimpered, arching helplessly against Drake’s fingers, tightening all around him, but this time not in pain.
The final barrier was swept away, annihilated in a tidal wave of desire. Madness took over, invading them, possessing them. Drenched in sweat, Drake devoured Alex’s mouth, her throat, her neck, her breasts, crushing her against his pounding body, desperate to be deeper inside her, lifting her legs higher around him.
Alex called her husband’s name over and over, wrapping her legs around his waist and meeting his frenzied thrusts with her own. She threw back her head, panting, wanting, needing, and, at last, begging Drake to end the torture, to relieve the taut knot of escalating pressure that coiled tighter and tighter inside her, threatening to devour her very soul.
Her soft, desperate pleas took Drake’s last shred of sanity. He plunged wildly inside her, grinding his body against hers, withdrawing only to bury himself inside her again and again.
“Alex …” Her name was torn from his chest. “Come with me. Now, love, it has to be now.”
She opened her eyes at his broken command, and in that frozen moment in time just before the spasms claimed her, she knew that she was in love with her husband. She closed her eyes against the intensity of the emotion, then cried out as bursts of nearly painful pleasure convulsed her body. She buried her mouth against Drake’s shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat and dying in his arms.
Drake felt the wild pulsations of Alex’s climax all around him. He tensed above her, every muscle taut and straining, as his own climax built higher and higher, beyond bearing, until it exploded, tearing him apart, flooding from his body into hers in powerful spurts of completion that seemed endless.
And Drake knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that despite his reputation as an accomplished, controlled lover, he was utterly, entirely lost. For the first time he was unable to think, unable to breathe, incapable of holding back or remaining untouched. All he could do was to surrender himself body and soul to the only woman who had penetrated his walls of self-protection.
To his wife.
Chapter 15
“IT SEEMS ALMOST TOO quiet, Captain.”
Smitty leaned his chin on his folded arms and gazed out over the lake, worry evident on his weathered face. “Rather like the calm before the storm.”
It was true. They were well into their second day of travel, and there had been no sign of American military ships on Lake Ontario. To the contrary, all was peaceful, with little traffic about them.
“I’m not terribly concerned, Smitty,” Drake replied from his position at the helm. “Initially this war appears to be on paper only, a formal declaration of hostilities without any bloodshed. Remember, it took nine days for news of the war to reach York. Many Canadians are still unaware of its onset. That is why I wanted to leave York as soon as possible, before panic had set in and before the battles had begun.”
Smitty nodded. The weather was their ally, the skies a brilliant shade of blue and the crystal waters of Lake Ontario glistening beneath them. The favorable westerly winds blew fiercely, propelling them toward the point where the lake narrowed into the Saint Lawrence River.
Smitty relaxed a bit. “With any luck we will be within sight of Kingston by daybreak.”
“Yes, that is exactly what I am hoping. The sooner we clear American waters, the easier I will rest.”
Smitty turned and glanced at Drake. “We have some distance to cover before that will occur,” he reminded him. “These will be dangerous weeks, Captain. I pray we can reach London safely.”
“We will.” It was a statement of fact. “I presume our men and our guns are prepared, should they be needed?”
“Of course, Captain.”
Drake tightened his hands on the wheel. “Then nothing can stand in our way.”
Smitty smiled. “You are determined to protect her.”
Drake looked surprised. “I have always protected La Belle Illusion.”
“I was speaking of your wife, not your ship.”
The slight softening of
Drake’s hard features was subtle, but Smitty saw it.
“Yes, Smitty, I will protect Alexandria. It is my duty, after all.”
“Of course, Captain,” was Smitty’s bland reply.
Drake knew his friend was not fooled by the casual mention of Alexandria, but he was not ready to discuss his wife with anyone. Hell, he was having enough trouble dealing with his feelings for her on his own.
Before last night Drake had possessed some control. No longer. Instead of extinguishing the blazing fire that burned within him, last night had only served to feed the flames, to make them lick higher and higher, spreading throughout his body and, far worse, igniting something fundamental, yet unwilling, within his soul. An internal voice of self-protection cried out with fear, warning him that he was exposed, vulnerable in a way that he had sworn never to be.
Alex had held back nothing of herself. Despite her fear and inexperience, she had budded and then blossomed like a beautiful flower in his arms, offering him her innocence and her newly awakened passion. And he had hurt her. No matter how many times he told himself that it was inevitable, he still could not forget her sharp, anguished whimpers as her virginal flesh tore with his frantic entry. Long after she had fallen asleep he had stared down into her face, trying to comprehend the intensity of their passion. Her long lashes, lying on her cheeks like golden wisps of sunlight, were moist with tears. He had fought an overwhelming urge to awaken her, to promise her that he would never hurt her again. But he knew damned well that, if he did, he would only end up making love to her again. And he could not give in to that impulse, for her body and his emotions were still too raw and tender for that to occur.
After a few hours of sleep, Drake had reluctantly detached himself from her soft warm body, dressed, and gone on deck. He was still here, and no nearer to understanding his feelings than he had been last night.
He did know that, with Alex, once was not enough. Drake had the maddening, drowning fear that he would never have enough.
