Captive of My Desires (27 page)

I
T TOOK A WHILE FOR
D
REW
to get his body back under control. He remained at the railing where Gabby had left him. Stubborn wench! They weren’t going to be at sea forever. They should be taking advantage of every minute they could get alone. So why did she fight it?

They’d shared one of the more enjoyable nights of his life—twice—and he knew damn well she’d felt the same about it. The damage was done. She was no longer a virgin. There was no
reason
for her to deny herself that pleasure. But she was obviously going to. Because he’d ruined her chances for a good marriage in England?

Damn, he hadn’t meant for that to happen. He’d been drunk, yes, but that was no excuse. That he was ending his visit with his sister sooner than he had to had him annoyed, too. Because of Gabrielle. Because he had to get away from her before the temptation became too much for him. Because she was still husband hunting and immune to his charms and it was starting to irritate the hell out of him.

His guilt was extreme now that he knew what his careless words at that ball had done. “Payback,” she’d wanted for it; that had been the word she’d used. He recalled all the temptation she’d presented him with when he’d been in chains and unable to do anything about it. How often she’d shown off her curves with a supposed innocent stretch of her limbs. The unusual looks she’d thrown at him that he might have called sexy if he hadn’t thought she was immune to him. The silly wench had
wanted
him to want her, to drive him mad with lust so she could have more revenge in denying him. And she’d nearly succeeded.

Did she really not know that he’d already wanted her so much it was barely all he could think about? And having her hadn’t changed that one bit.

He really did need to get as far away from Gabrielle Brooks as possible. This voyage couldn’t end soon enough for him. And yet that wouldn’t end it. He’d promised to help her free her father. Damn. But he had no choice in that. He did owe her something for inadvertently embroiling her in a scandal and after taking her virginity, too.

The honorable thing to do would be to…

He stopped the thought before it started. It wasn’t the first time it had snuck up on him since that amazing night in her bed. An unexpected virgin demanded certain things of a man, after all, the least of which was to make an offer to turn the occurrence respectable. And if Gabrielle hadn’t stolen his ship, he probably would have been foolish enough to make that offer, out of guilt, out of—lust, or for whatever reason. His guilt would have prevailed.

She would have refused, of course. She wanted nothing to do with him. She had stressed that from the start. Or would she? Her friend had said that day that she’d entertained thoughts of marriage to Drew. Was that a lie Richard had came up with to get him to stop questioning him about that punch?

He sighed and headed back to the quarterdeck. He’d never been in such a muddled state of mind over a woman before. And jealousy! Where the hell had that come from? But he couldn’t deny it. First that fop Wilbur, then her friend Richard, now his own friend Timothy, who he knew damn well didn’t entertain any thoughts about her. Why was jealousy rearing its head now, when Drew had never experienced it before? Well, he could only assume that it was because he wasn’t the least bit done with her himself.

Lovers! Gabrielle no sooner entered Drew’s cabin, where her eyes moved straight to his bed, than the fury she’d felt up on deck returned with a vengeance. Everyone on board thought she and Drew were lovers and he found that amusing!

It was too bad he didn’t delay returning to his room that evening, since she apparently needed more than a few hours to get her emotions under control. He probably realized that when she began throwing things at him the moment he walked through the door.

He ducked the first missile she launched but wasn’t as lucky with the second, which prompted the sharp command, “Put that down!”

She didn’t. She was standing behind his desk with two drawers open, which gave her a wealth of items that weren’t nailed down to throw at him. An inkwell was next. She wished it had splattered all over him, but it was securely stoppered and didn’t even break. Then she aimed a well-worn nautical book at him.

She paused only long enough to hiss, “We aren’t lovers! We are never going to be lovers! And you damn well better let your crew know that!”

He’d been on his way to reach her but stopped abruptly at that demand. He even grinned now, the blackguard.

“We’ve made love twice. Sorry, sweetheart, but that officially makes us lovers.”

“The devil it does!” She snorted and hurled a handful of old coins at his head.

One coin caught him on the cheek and prompted him to move again, quite quickly. In fact, he was around the desk and behind her, dragging her hand out of the drawer before her fingers could close on the next missile. Safety, his own, prompted him to grasp her other hand as well and place both of them at the small of her back, where he had no trouble keeping them. That position put her rather close to him, so she still struggled for her release. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I think you owe me for this gash on the cheek,” he told her.

She didn’t believe there was one there, but she eyed both his cheeks first before she said, “What gash? You’re not bleeding, more’s the pity.”

“Feels like it.”

“It probably won’t even bruise, which wasn’t the idea a’tall, so don’t think I’m done!”

He tsked. And he was putting so little effort into restraining her in that position that his voice was almost soothingly calm.

He said, “Your problem is that you’re as frustrated as I am. You couldn’t get this angry over a little teasing if you weren’t. It’s got nothing to do with what I said. It’s got everything to do with your desire—for me. Admit it. You want me, Gabby.”

“I don’t!”

“Liar. I happen to recognize the signs—since I just went through it myself. For God’s sake, I was even jealous of Tim today for spending time with you!”

She stopped struggling for a moment and said, “Now who’s lying? A man with a sweetheart in every port wouldn’t know the meaning of jealousy.”

“I would have been the first to agree with you—before I met you,” he said.

“Timothy is rather sweet, like a big, lovable bear,” she said provokingly.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re
not
making me jealous again, wench.”

“Wasn’t trying to,” she insisted, then said heatedly, “And let go of me!”

She shouldn’t have made that demand. It brought it immediately to both their minds, just how close she was to him. His arms were already around her. Their chests were already touching. He didn’t have to move very far to bring their mouths together.

She saw it coming and tried to turn her head aside. “Don’t—”

“Stop?” he teased, finishing the thought for her.

“No, don’t—”

“Kiss you here?” he finished again, brushing his lips against her chin. And then, cupping her cheek, he tilted her head up to him. “Or here?” and she felt a feather-light brush against her cheek. “Or do you want me to kiss you here instead?” he added deeply.

His lips pressed firmly against hers now, one hand slipping around her neck to support her head, the other moving down her back to her derriere to press her closer against his arousal. What a token resistance that had been! And her anger did not keep her from responding, oh, no, just the opposite. Gripping his shoulders, she kissed him back with all the heat she’d been feeling for the last several hours, and the passion that exploded between them was amazing.

He’d been correct. She wanted him. Too much, apparently. She even helped him get their clothes off. She wasn’t sure who dragged whom to the bed. And they didn’t leave that bed for the rest of the day.

They didn’t sleep, though. Later, they were sitting on the bed, both cross-legged, both naked. He was running his hands softly up and down the insides of her thighs, caressing her. He wasn’t trying to excite her. They’d already made love. He was just touching her very softly, continuously. He did that a lot, now that she let him. In fact, his hands were rarely far from her when they were together now.

And then out of the blue, with no previous conversation to give warning of what was on his mind, Drew said, “Will you marry me?”

Without thinking, she said, “Yes, I will.”

He probably wasn’t expecting such quick compliance, because he asked, “Why?”

“I rather like the life at sea. I figure from you, that’s what I’ll get.”

He apparently didn’t like that answer, because he said, “Try again.”

“That isn’t enough reason?”

“Admit it, you just want to make the rest of my life as miserable as you’ve—”

He sounded as if he were teasing, but that struck such a nerve that she cut in rather sharply, “If you weren’t serious, why the bloody hell did you propose?”

She probably shouldn’t have put him on the spot with such a pointed question. It turned him defensive, and frustrated, to go by the hand he raked through his hair.

“It was the honorable thing to do, all things considered,” he said.

“My acceptance was for the same reason—all things considered. But if you weren’t really serious, then I’ll decline.”

He should have looked relieved at that point. Instead he just looked more frustrated.

“Fine,” he retorted. “Don’t say I didn’t ask.”

She stared at him incredulously. “You call that asking? I’d call that begging me to refuse.”

“You’re not going to worm your way out of this. You accepted. I’m holding you to it!”

He lay down and turned a stiff back to her. She did the same. An hour later, his backside was touching her derriere. Thirty minutes later, their legs were entwined. About one minute after that, they were making love again, and not another word was said about his odd proposal.

Dinner came, and with an annoyed shout from Drew, it was left outside the door. Darkness came, filtered only by a little moonlight through the bank of windows. Sweat came and soaked the sheets, but they barely noticed. And Gabrielle came, again and again, each orgasm more powerful than the last.

It was a day she’d never forget.

“I
’VE NOTICED IT, YOU KNOW,”
Margery said in a sage tone. The older woman had been let out of her cabin about the same time Gabrielle had gained her own freedom.

“Noticed what?” Gabrielle asked.

“How happy you’ve been recently.”

Gabrielle was standing next to her friend near the bow of the ship. They were watching a rather large moon making an appearance on the horizon. It was one of the more beautiful things the ocean offered on a clear night, bright moonlight reflected on its waves. She almost wished Drew were standing with her instead. Almost.

“Happy?” Gabrielle replied with a slight frown. “I won’t be happy until my father is freed.”

“Well, of course,” Margery said. “That goes without saying. But I think you’re liking the captain more’n you let on, aren’t you?”

Gabrielle grinned now in answer. She couldn’t very well deny that anymore, or at least she couldn’t deny she liked making mad, passionate love with him. Drew, unprovoked, at his most charming, was devastating to a girl’s senses. And he hadn’t been provoked for a while now. And he’d definitely been at his most charming.

“Have you and he…”

Margery couldn’t bring herself to elaborate, even as outspoken as she usually was, but Gabrielle got the point easily enough, since it was a subject often on her mind. She didn’t even blush when she replied, “Yes.”

“I was afraid of that,” Margery said with a disappointed sigh.

Gabrielle noted the disapproval but didn’t take it to heart. It was expected. While Margery didn’t adhere to the proper way of doing things herself and had had many lovers over the years, she took her role as chaperone seriously and wanted only the best for Gabrielle. But life had its little curves and this was one of them.

“I thought the first time was a dream,” Gabrielle admitted, and at Margery’s doubtful look she laughed and said, “No, really. And I can’t deny it was the nicest dream I’d ever had.”

Margery rolled her eyes, but then her mind went off on a different track and she asked with a suspicious frown, “This isn’t part of your revenge, is it?”

“No, I’m done with that. He and I finally talked about it, and he admitted he didn’t intentionally stir up the scandal. And he’s making amends for it, by helping with Papa’s rescue, and also by not throwing
me
in jail for stealing his ship. Besides, you know very well I didn’t really want to settle down in England when I consider the islands my home. England was Papa’s idea, not mine, and even so, I don’t think it
really
mattered to him. He was thinking of my mother, because it’s what
she
would have wanted for me. So Drew kind of did me a favor in ruining my chances for a match there.”

Margery snorted. “No one but
you
would see it that way now. But why did you get so angry about it to begin with, then, if you felt he did you a good turn?”

“Because that isn’t what I thought a’tall. Not then, anyway. I thought he’d made that remark deliberately, which made it a direct attack against me, and a nasty one at that.
That
was deserving of revenge, especially since he was sailing off and leaving me there to sink in that scandal. But he didn’t even know his remark made the gossip rounds.”

“Well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that anger wasn’t doing you any good, so I’m glad you’ve given it up.”

“So am I,” Gabrielle agreed, and it was the truth. Not being angry and not fighting with that man had some really nice benefits.

She and Drew had sort of an unspoken truce, ever since that day she tossed half the contents of his desk at him. Neither of them said anything of the wrongs they’d done each other. And the truce had a profound effect on her. She felt so bubbly inside she might have called it happy, if she could think of a reason why she should be happy. She couldn’t. Except, well…

“He asked me to marry him.”

“Well, good, at least I won’t have to draw and quarter him now for taking advantage of you.”

“I think I refused,” Gabrielle was forced to admit. “I’m not really sure, though.”

She remembered that night clearly. It was over a week ago, the same day they’d had their last fight, before their truce began. And it had definitely been an odd proposal. He’d gone from “doing the honorable thing” in asking, to getting upset when she accepted, to getting even more upset when she changed her mind and refused instead. And then he’d finished off by leaving her in doubt as to whether they were engaged. He was holding her to it? That’s what he’d said. But he’d said it in a moment of anger, so he probably didn’t mean it.

Unfortunately, Margery wasn’t going to let her off after a remark like that and demanded, “What do you mean, you aren’t sure?”

Gabrielle tried to shrug it off by saying, “I accepted, then changed my mind, but it sounded like he’s going to hold me to my first answer.”

“Good for him and fie on you for refusing,” Margery huffed, then said, “At least marry him for propriety’s sake. If you want to divorce him later, fine, just make sure you aren’t having any babies first.”

Now
Gabrielle blushed. She tended to be outspoken herself, but Margery always won hands down in that department.

And why hadn’t she thought about babies as a natural consequence of enjoying herself in Drew’s bed? Because not once had she thought that far ahead, and besides, if she had stopped to think about what she was doing, she knew damn well she would have stopped doing it.

She’d been sleeping with him every night since their truce started. She hadn’t asked permission. He hadn’t invited her. She’d just gotten into his bed each night without thinking, as if she belonged there. And they’d made love every one of those nights. That’s what she didn’t want halted with too much introspection. The voyage was going to end soon enough, in a matter of days. They were already passing through Caribbean waters. So was it too much to ask, to have just a little sensual bliss uninterrupted by reality?

But a baby? Good grief, she really should have considered that. And the thought had her picturing herself holding a little Drew in her arms. He’d be the most beautiful baby ever created, she thought as she felt her heart skip a beat. The baby was not even born, and most likely not even conceived, and she already loved the child! What the deuce was wrong with her?

“Pretty moon, isn’t it?”

Gabrielle jumped, startled by Drew’s sudden presence beside them. Margery mumbled something about getting to bed and left them alone. The moment she was gone, his arm slipped around Gabrielle’s waist and drew her to his side.

It was the first time he was making a “public” display of affection. The only other time had been when he’d kissed her as they stood on the lower deck, which had been witnessed by all and sundry. It wasn’t that there hadn’t been ample opportunity, since she’d been spending most every day with him up on the quarterdeck. He’d even let her take the wheel for a while, after she’d convinced him she knew how.

But he was all business when he was up there, commanding his ship. Besides, he did mention one night that he didn’t want his men yearning for port any sooner than was reasonable, that they got sloppy when they were rushing to end a voyage because they had women on their minds. She’d gotten the point.

“That’s one of the prettier moons I’ve seen in a while. I often saw really big moons on the horizon, nice and full, in St. Kitts. We had some magnificent sunsets, too, right off of our beach.”

“You lived on the beach?”

She nodded. “Papa has a small house on the coast, not too far from town.”

“It sounds a bit too perfect. I’m surprised you wanted to leave it.”

“I didn’t,” she said, and said no more.

He must have read the end-of-subject tone, because he didn’t address it further and said instead, “I’d love to walk with you on a beach sometime, any beach as long as the weather is balmy.”

Was he remembering that romantic fantasy she’d mentioned to him? “Chilly walks on the beach aren’t bad,” she pointed out. “I’ve done that before in England, when I was much younger.”

“Possibly, but they won’t allow for swimming naked with you in the water, and I really doubt you’ll find any crystal-clear coves with coral reefs to explore along the English coasts.”

He did remember! She glanced up at him with a grin. “You’re probably right, though I never checked. I didn’t even learn to swim until I moved to the Caribbean to be with Papa. He taught me.”

His fingers grazed her cheek softly. “I’m jealous. I think that’s something I would have loved teaching you.”

She might have laughed if his tone hadn’t turned so husky. She caught her breath instead and had to fight the urge to turn toward him and start kissing him. But she could feel his fingers in her hair. She’d lost her ribbon, so it was loose at the moment. He touched her so often! Half the time she didn’t even think he was aware he was doing it. He just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her.

To get her mind off of that, she asked, “Have you given any more thought to our plan of action once we make port?”

“Yes, before we sail to Lacross’s stronghold, we’re going to stop at Anguilla to find a woman with the same color hair as you, and reasonably the same shape, to make him think it’s you on board my ship. Then I’ll go in with the maps.”

She glanced at him. “Wait a minute, are you implying that I’m not going to be there?”

“Not implying, stating a fact,” he replied adamantly. “After what you’ve told me about this pirate, you aren’t getting anywhere near him.”

“But he doesn’t even want the maps,” she said. “I told you that, too.”

“All supposition,” he reminded her. “He
did
ask for them, his only stipulation being that you show up to deliver them yourself. So the fake you is present and accounted for, just not leaving my ship, the maps get handed to Lacross, and then your father gets released. All nicely accomplished with no one getting hurt.”

She rolled her eyes. “And if he doesn’t release my father until I’m standing in his presence?”

“He can’t very well renege just because I deliver the maps to him.”

“Like hell he can’t. Don’t for a minute assume he’s honorable. I need to be there in case your plan backfires and he ends up holding you hostage, too.”

“Does that thought…distress you?”

She blinked, then frowned. Was he fishing for a declaration of some sort? That she was worried about him? That she cared about him? She pushed the thought away, didn’t want it in the same conversation that Pierre was in.

So she said, tongue almost in cheek, “Of course it distresses me. If you get captured, then I’ll have two hostages to rescue, won’t I?”

He laughed, pulled her closer, rubbed his cheek against hers on the way to whispering by her ear, “I find it charming that you’d rescue me.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and smiled as she replied, “I’d have to rescue you so I could shoot you for being dumb enough to get captured in the first place.”

He burst out laughing. “Damn, Gabby, you are wonderful for the disposition. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as I have since I’ve known you.”

“I bet you say that to all your sweethearts,” she replied with feigned coquetry.

He gave her that stomach-fluttering smile of his. “No, I don’t believe I have. Only to you.”