The Sea Witch

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Love was such a fearsome thing. It had the power to hurt. The power to heal. He hoped, for the sake of these two fine young people, they used the power wisely.

  It was past midnight when Riordan came topside to take the wheel.

  "Any sign of trouble, Newt?" Riordan's voice was hushed in the darkness.

  "No sign of pirates, Cap'n. But I'd say you might have a bit of trouble to deal with." The old man glanced to the spot where Ambrosia sat, as still as a statue, staring at the round, full moon.

  He heard Riordan mutter an oath.

  "I'll say good-night now, Cap'n." The old man was smiling as he strolled across the deck and disappeared below.

  Riordan studied the way Ambrosia looked. Like a beautiful painting he'd seen in Paris. Her eyes dark and unfathomable. Her mood pensive as she stared out over a sea gilded in moonlight.

  The night was calm. Not a hint of a breeze rippled the waves. They could have been floating on a sea of gold. There was the barest hint of motion as the small craft drifted on the current.

  He had no need to hold the wheel, but his fingers

  curled tightly around it as he saw Ambrosia get to her feet. She clutched the blanket around her shoulders as she walked toward him, moving with fluid, sensuous grace. His throat went dry at the sight of her coming closer, then closer still. A mist swirled around the deck, around her ankles, adding to her ethereal look.

  There was something different about her tonight, though he couldn't decide what it was. Perhaps the way her hips moved. Or perhaps the shy, yet bold look of a woman—a look that hadn't been there before.

  "Riordan." She paused in front of him and the blanket dropped to the deck at their feet. She smiled up at him. She was wearing the white gown she'd worn earlier in the day. Like a bride, he thought. A beautiful, virginal bride. Needs, sharp and swift, slammed into him with all the force of a lightning bolt.

  His tone was gruff. "You ought to be asleep, Ambrosia."

  "I can't sleep." She put her hand over his on the wheel, and he was forced to absorb a fierce rush of heat. "And you know why."

  He kept his tone casual. "You're thinking about London tomorrow?"

  "If you believe that, you're a fool, Riordan Spencer. And I've come to realize that you're no fool." She leaned against the ship's wheel and stared up into his eyes. "I can't sleep because of you."

  "Don't worry. When this is over you'll soon enough be rid of me."

  "I don't want to be rid of you." She ran her hands up his arms and pressed herself against him. "Kiss me, Riordan."

  Though his body reacted in a purely male fashion, he managed a step back. He even mustered a dismissive smile. "I don't think that would be wise."

  "I don't want to be wise. I want to be wild. Kiss me."

  He put his hand on her shoulders, to hold her at bay. A mistake, he realized at once. He had to struggle against the desire to drag her into his arms and savage her with kisses.

  "You think you can just ask me to pleasure you for a little while, until you tire of it, or grow frightened, and then order me to walk away like a good lad." His tone hardened. "Well, I'm not a lad and I'm not good. And I haven't been either in many years."

  She felt a wave of frustration. Why was he being so difficult? She'd been prepared to throw herself into his arms and have him devour her. Instead, he was rejecting her offer. Rejecting her.

  "I don't want a lad. I want a man. I want you."

  His eyes narrowed. The hands at her shoulders tightened. "I hear the words you're saying. You want. Aye, you want. But what about what I want? Have you thought about that, Ambrosia? Or is this just some game you're playing?"

  She pushed back so that she could see his eyes. "It's no game, Riordan. I've thought this over very carefully."

  As had he. From the first time he'd seen her. Love and lust and longing were all twisting inside him, and had been, from the moment they'd met. But he'd finally managed to convince himself that she was too innocent for the likes of him. Her kisses too chaste. Her heart too pure. He had no right to sully her reputation for his own gratification.

  "And you want me, Riordan. Admit it."

  Though it was an effort, he managed to keep her at arm's length. "I admit only this. What you're feeling is le first stirring of a woman's heart."

  She smiled. "Aye." Without warning she caught his hand and pressed it to her heart. "Feel how it pounds when you're near."

  Desire rushed through him at the first contact with her breast. He pulled his hand away as though burned. But it was too late. All the blood had drained from his head to another part of his anatomy. His heartbeat was hammering at his temples. Needs, so long denied, were clawing to be free.

  "This isn't love, Ambrosia." He had to deny what he was feeling. Otherwise, he'd have no willpower left. "What is it then?"

  He dragged in a breath. "It's lust, pure and simple."

  He saw the pain that his words caused, and felt a wave of remorse. But he was doing this for her own good. "If it were love it wouldn't be mulled over like a chess game. In fact, love shouldn't be thought about at all. It can't be planned. Or plotted. Or schemed. True love doesn't make any sense. It isn't convenient. In fact, it's often inconvenient. Now..." He took another deep breath, determined to plunge the dagger, if that's what it took. "It's time you went belowdecks and got some sleep. We have serious business to see to on the morrow. There's no more time for this nonsense."

  "Nonsense?" She reacted as though he'd slapped her. She took a step back, staring into his eyes.

  "Aye. Nonsense. Now go to bed." He looked away, into the darkness. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her bend and retrieve the blanket. He heard the sound of her footsteps as she made her way across the deck. Then there was only the gentle slap of the waves against the hull of the Sea Challenge. And the occasional call of a seabird.

  Though he knew he'd done the honorable thing, he'd never felt so miserable in his life.

  Holding the blanket around her, Ambrosia started down the stairs, then turned for one last glance at the man who had just broken her heart.

  He had rejected her. Rejected her offer of love. Had even demeaned it by calling it nothing more than lust. She wanted to hate him for it. But even now, even after his callous disregard for her feelings, she couldn't. She loved him.

  She studied his hard, tight profile as he glanced skyward. If possible, he looked even more miserable than she felt. That ought to give her some measure of satisfaction. But as she watched, the truth dawned.

  Now that he thought he was alone, he was able to let his guard down. And his face reflected his true feelings. That wasn't happiness, but sheer misery. Was it possible that his heart felt as bruised and battered as hers?

  If that were true, it could only mean that everything he'd just said and done had been an act. For her benefit?

  Of course. He'd done it for her. Because he truly cared about her.

  She took a deep breath and started toward him. As she did, her heart turned a series of somersaults in her chest. She was about to risk everything, even further rejection, for the sake of love.

  She lifted her chin. Hadn't she always lived for a challenge? It was time for the true test of her strength.

  "Riordan." She touched a hand to his shoulder. Just a hand, but he reacted as though he'd just seen a ghostly specter. He stepped back, his arms at his sides.

  "Ambrosia." His eyes narrowed. "I thought I sent you to bed."

  "Aye. Like a naughty child. But I'm not a child, Riordan. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a woman."

  "I'd have to be a blind man not to have noticed."

  "I'm glad you admit that much." She smiled and laid her other hand on his arm. "I'm a woman, Riordan. A woman who wants to be held, and touched, and kissed."

  He couldn't catch his breath. The mere touch of her had all the air leaving his lungs. "You've come to the wrong man."

  "Nay. You're the right man for me, Riordan. You told me that love isn't convenient. That's probably
the only honest thing you've said tonight."

  "Are you accusing me of lying?"

  "Aye. Oh, for the most honorable of reasons, I suppose. You thought you'd save me from my foolish heart. But it's my heart. And it yearns for you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to the length of him. "Kiss me, Riordan."

  He reached up to remove her arms from his neck. But the moment he touched her, he felt his resolve beginning to slip. "Don't do this, Ambrosia. You're bound to be hurt."

  "If I am, it'll be my choice. What about you? Do you want this? Do you want me?"

  His intention was to peel her away from him and force her, if need be, to leave. Instead his hands fisted in her hair. He pulled her head back roughly. His eyes stayed steady on hers, hot and fierce. "I want you more than anything in this world. And have, since the first time I saw you."

  She felt a thrill of triumph. "Are you afraid we won't be good for each other?"

  "Good? You're so good it frightens me." He gave a sound of disgust. "But there's nothing good about me, Ambrosia. You could find a hundred men better for you."

  "I don't want a hundred others, Riordan. I want you."

  "And God help me, I want you." His next words had the smile fading on her lips. "But I can't be the gentle lover you deserve, Ambrosia. I'll not settle for chaste kisses or a few whispered words. If you don't walk away now, I can't promise I won't hurt you. In fact, I'll probably take you like a savage. Is that what you want?"

  She clutched the front of his shirt, dragging him close. "Kiss me, Riordan. Touch me. Before I die from wanting you."

  His mouth covered hers in a kiss so hot, so hungry, it poured between them, draining them, then filling them.

  With his lips against hers he whispered, "Do you know how many long, lonely nights I've dreamed of you? Of this?"

  "Tell me. I need to hear the words."

  "Too many." He took the kiss deeper, nearly devouring her with his hunger. "I've thought of every way I'd love you."

  "Show me, Riordan. Teach me." She clutched his head, her fingers tangling through the hair that spilled in wild disarray.

  And then there was no need for words as he kissed her until they were both breathless and gasping for air. He feasted on her lips, lingering over them like a man starved for the taste of her. And all the while he kept his eyes open, watching the play of emotions on her expressive face. Her skin became flushed with desire. Her lashes fluttered, then closed, as he took the kiss deeper.

  When at last he lifted his head, it was to run quick kisses down her neck to the hollow of her throat. While his mouth fed on her skin, his hands moved along her back, weaving a magic all their own. She couldn't hold in the sigh of pleasure as his fingers trailed her spine, then moved slowly upward along her sides until they encountered the swell of her breasts. He covered her mouth with his and swallowed back her little gasp of surprise as his work-roughened thumbs stroked her nipples until she thought she'd go mad.

  "Riordan." She pushed against him, dragging in deep rafts of air.

  "Afraid?" She could see his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

  She lifted her chin. "Of course not."

  "Liar." He dragged her close, and before she could protest, he brought his mouth to her breast. Ignoring the barrier of her gown, he nibbled and suckled until she was nearly mad with need.

  Suddenly he lifted his head. Before she could realize what he was doing, he took hold of her gown and tore it away, leaving it to pool at her feet. As he untied the ribbons of her chemise he kept his eyes steady on hers. "The last time I undressed you, I was consumed with worry. This time I mean to savor the moment." He ripped the fabric from her shoulders and felt his throat so dry at the vision. "Ah, Ambrosia, you're so lovely you take my breath away."

  And then there was no need to speak. With hands and lips and tongue he told her all that he was thinking. His kisses spoke of loneliness. And hunger. And need.

  She had a desperate need to touch him the way he was touching her. She slid his shirt from his shoulders and reached for the fasteners at his waist. When her fingers fumbled, he helped her, until his clothes joined hers at their feet. And then she was free to run her hands over those hard, sculpted muscles of his back and shoulders. Muscles that she'd seen glistening in the sunlight as he'd worked on the Undaunted. How she'd wanted to touch him. To feel that strength surrounding her. As she trailed her fingertips along the contours of his arms she felt wonderfully, gloriously free. To touch. To feel. To take.

  Their kisses became more urgent. Their sighs more frequent. And as he brought his mouth to her breast, she felt her legs tremble. Sensing her weakness, he drew her down to the blanket.

  Moonlight played over her, turning her skin to gold. Her hair gleamed blue-black in the darkness. Her eyes, large and luminous, were focused on him. She smelled as clean and fresh as the sea. Somewhere nearby a night bird called, and its mate gave a distant response. But neither Riordan nor Ambrosia heard. All they could see was each other. All they could hear was the sound of their shallow breathing. And the wild beating of two hearts as they lost themselves in the wonder of each other.

  Riordan struggled to hold back the need to take her like a savage. He'd wanted her for so long. But he was determined to go slowly. Not just for himself, but for her sake. If this was all he could give her, he would make it as special as possible. And so he forced himself to linger over her lips. To draw out every taste. Every flavor.

  Ambrosia began to relax in his arms. She responded to this gentle side of his lovemaking with a sweetness of her own. Now she was free to trace the outline of his lips with her finger. To press soft, moist kisses to his throat until she heard his moan of pleasure. Emboldened, she brought her lips lower, to his hair-roughened chest.

  He responded by dragging her upward to trace his lips J across her cheek to her jaw, then lower to her throat. He heard her little purr of pleasure and smiled, before moving lower to her breast. In the space of a heartbeat the pleasure became so intense, she could hardly bear it. The heat that had been growing pleasantly between them was suddenly an inferno. Even the night air couldn't cool the fire that clogged their throats, threatening to choke them. Riordan thrilled to the change in her. The passion that had been slumbering for so long was now unleashed, and ready to devour her. Need, so long denied, was now demanding to be set free. He could see it in her eyes. Eyes that burned hotly. He could taste it on her lips. A hunger that demanded to be fed.

  He framed her face with his big hands and stared deeply into her eyes, loving the look of desire that gleamed in their depths. "This was how I wanted you, Ambrosia. Naked and desperate. And mine. Only mine."

  With lips and tongue and fingertips he moved over her body, touching, tasting, drawing out every pleasure until she begged for release. Instead, he drove her even higher, until she nearly wept with need.

  Following his lead she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her lips in his throat. Hearing his little moan of pleasure, she grew bolder, exploring his body as he had explored hers, drawing out every sensation.

  Riordan had thought he could go slowly. To make this night last forever, so that it would be one she would remember for a lifetime. But now, teetering on the brink of madness, he could no longer wait.

  He moved down her body, taking her higher with each touch of his fingers and tongue. Ambrosia lay helpless, her whole body straining, her heart stuttering, her mind begging for release. The danger of their journey no longer mattered. The only thing that was real was this man. His work-roughened hands. His enticing tongue. His clever mouth. And the need for more.

  He heard her little cry as she reached the first crest. He gave her no time to recover as he moved along her body and took her on another wild ride.

  Her mind reeling, her eyes dark with pleasure, she reached for him, needing to hold him.

  "Riordan, please. I need you. Only you."

  Her words added to the frenzy that held him in its grip. He seemed to be looking at he
r through a blazing mist that clouded his vision.

  He wanted to be gentle, but the control was gone. Now all he could think of was having her. Her body. Her heart. Her soul. He took her like a madman. But instead of pulling away, she wrapped herself around him, even more deeply aroused. Incredibly, she began to move with him. Climb with him. Matching him strength for strength.

  "Do you know how much I love you, my beautiful Ambrosia?" He whispered her name like a prayer as he began to climb higher, then higher still. There were no more words as the demons inside fought their way free.

  And then they were soaring, shattering into little pieces before settling back to earth.

  "Did I ...hurt you?" Riordan lay on top of her, his face buried against her throat.

  "Nay. I'm ...fine." Such an inadequate word, she thought. She should feel bruised and battered from the storm she'd survived. But all she felt was ...fine. There was this amazing sense of calm. Of peace. As though the whole world had somehow changed. And all because of her love for this man.

  Love. It was true. She loved him. Desperately. And he loved her.

  She reached up to brush a lock of damp hair from his eye. "You said you love me."

  "Did I?"

  "You don't remember?"

  "I ...seem to recall it. I guess I was ...otherwise occupied. "

  She laughed, then caught her breath.

  "I'm too heavy." He rolled to one side, then pulled her into the circle of his arms. "Is that better?"

  "Aye. Much." She snuggled close and he wrapped the blanket around them both.

  "While I was ...otherwise occupied, did you tell me you loved me, too?"

  She shook her head. "I don't recall."

  "Well?" He stared into her eyes.

  "What?" She felt suddenly so lighthearted. The imp inside her took over. She couldn't help teasing.

  "Do you?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Love me?"

  "You don't make it easy." She sat up, unmindful of her nakedness. Her hair swirled around her shoulders like a dark veil.