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Authors: Susannah Merrill

Captives' Charade (22 page)

BOOK: Captives' Charade
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“And where did you manage to find a bath?”

Walking up behind her, he directed his reply to her reflection. “There’s a rather delightful lagoon but a minute’s walk from this wing. Remind me to show it to you tomorrow.” He bent his head close to hers. “Perhaps you might be encouraged to join me in my next partaking?”

Annoyed at his implication, Sarah hastily slid off the hassock, and occupied herself with smoothing the clinging gown. “I prefer something more civilized if you don’t mind. Tell me; were you able to get Tegan out of the sailors’ quarters?” Her concern for her maid appeared in a sudden widening of her azure eyes.

“Much to my surprise, d’Alava is being amenable to practically our every wish. Jeremiah said he found the idea much to his liking, after he told d’Alava she – he – was responsible for our meals aboard ship. I guess his own chef is average at best. I just hope ....”

“Stewart, you don’t think d’Alava would demand to keep her here, do you?”

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Now Sarah, don’t go borrowing distress. We will deal with any problems as they arise, not before. We have every reason to believe that we will be on our way in a fortnight – with the entire crew intact. Jeremiah and I looked over the work that d’Alava wants done, and it’s not extensive. Now just worry yourself with continuing your convincing performance, and we’ll take care of the rest.” As he spoke, he had gained her side and was putting his arms around her. Sarah cowered for a moment under his captivating onslaught, then began to struggle.

“My role begins out there,” she muttered through clenched white teeth, pointing her chin toward the door. “Not in here!”

Brown eyes caressed her face, then dipped to the nearly immodest display of creamy white skin above her bodice, while all the time his arms held firm. “My only wish is to help set the proper mood. Is it too difficult for you to imagine what d’Alava believes we are doing every hour we are alone?” He chuckled at her gasp of embarrassment. “It’s important that you look like a sated, thoroughly enraptured bride, fresh from her marriage bed yet stimulated by musings of the next joining.” She thrust her face away, her body hot yet stiff with indignation at being spoken to with such intimacy. Undaunted, Stewart pressed his face against the arched and straining neck she presented him and between titillating kisses thereon, he murmured, “Since you’re as yet unwilling to feel like a real bride, at least let me light a fire in your eyes ...”

Try as she might, Sarah could not control the racing of her heart nor stop her ragged breathing. Stewart’s lips were communicating with a part of her far more willing than her mind. Each touch of his mouth on her neck, her throat, her cheek, her ear, brought waves of pleasure that made her struggles seem sensuous rather than defensive. In a final effort to stop his experienced seduction, she nudged her upturned face toward him, choking, “Don’t ... please ....”

It was a fatal maneuver, for his lips captured hers and held them prisoner while his tongue Endeavoured to probe the sweet depths exposed to him. She was lost; overwhelmed by the need he had so skillfully brought to the surface. With a defeated moan, she brought her arms, which were suddenly freed, around his neck, and leaned her body closer to his hard form. He held her so for a moment, letting his hands run at will up her bare back and down to her softly rounded hips. Then he took a step forward and she ached with the blissful feel of his thigh pushing against the flimsy skirt covering her legs.

When it became apparent that he was as much aroused as she, Sarah was surprised that her own reaction was one of satisfaction rather than revulsion. So she, too, had the power to stir. The thought so overpowered her that she failed to realize he’d guided her to the bed until the back of her legs hit the cool wood and she dropped softly to the mattress, Stewart’s arm gently cradling her, as his other broke their fall.

Immediately she sti ffened as a gasp of panic escaped from her partially covered mouth, But Stewart persisted, carefully working to erase her fears with sweet, gentle kisses on her lips and face, his free hand taking her fingers that were pushing against his chest and returning them to his neck. His eyes, black glimmers in the dim candlelight, allayed her struggling somewhat, as they were warm and loving, with no trace of their usual arrogance.

Finally she relaxed again, twining her fingers into his wavy hair and letting her delicate tongue and teeth join her lips in pursuit of passion. It was then that Stewart allowed his leg to drive casually across her hips and in this sublime captivity, she felt his hand come up between them to the exposed flesh of her bosom. Her eyes flew open as his burning fingers explored the edge of her low bodice to find the ribbon fastening her chemise. She pulled him closer to her hoping to thwart his attempts, but her strength was feeble and she felt the undergarment give way.

With a voice gentle and persuasive, he began whispering endearments, and between kisses and feather-soft nibbles, he encouraged her acceptance of his caress. Her whole body shuddered when his strong but gentle hand pushed the bodice away from her shoulders, slid beneath the corset and brought forth a full, rounded breast, the rosy nipple peaking with excitement. He kissed her lovingly while he massaged her, his palm bringing excruciating pleasure until this moment unknown to her. When she thought she could stand it no longer, he took the tender tip between thumb and forefinger, rubbing it until she felt she would drown with longing.

As Stewart boldly exposed her other breast, his lips left her slackened mouth, burning a trail down the hollow of her neck to come to rest on a swelling bud, which his moist tongue teased mercilessly. A sob escaped Sarah’s spoiled lips as her senses went numb with shock, his actions so unimaginably persuasive. But at the same time, with her heart thumping so strongly that her ears rang, she awakened to the indescribable ache of passion in her loins – a phenomenon so new, so exciting, that she was rendered completely helpless by the effects. Unbidden, her trembling hands pressed Stewart’s head closer against her bosom as she basked in the heat of his lean and hard body, his hips moving ardently against her thinly-clad shape.

Sarah didn’t hear the knock on the door, but when Stewart suddenly raised his head, leaving her moistened skin vulnerable to the air, her mind reeled in shocked confusion. Stiffening when he calmly called out an inquiry, she held her breath as she heard Galena announce dinner through the closed door and then leave nearly as silently as she had come.

With a displeased growl, Stewart returned his gaze to the woman beneath him, expecting to look into dazed, navy blue eyes. But instead, Sarah’s fair face was contorted by surprise and horror as she saw, for the first time, the reflection of twining bodies and her own bare flesh on the looking glass overhead. With a cry, she began frantically pulling up her somewhat limp dress, casting her eyes up and down, embarrassed as though the glass were a shop window rather than a mirror.

Stewart chuckled indulgently and captured her flailing hands in his steel grasp, forcing her to glare at him when he still managed to fondle the heaving mounds she was bent on hiding. His slim, warm hand caressed her, and even though Sarah still burned from their lovemaking, his sardonic expression humiliated her and an angry, remorseful tear slid from her eye.

“What’s this? Tears?” he asked, an indulgent note in his deep voice. “I too am sorry we’ve been so rudely interrupted, but later ....”

“Stop it!” she sobbed through lips that felt too swollen to speak. With a lunge, she attempted to rise but the result was completely unsuccessful, so great was the weight above her.

“Sarah?” Immediately his voice was again warm and concerned as he moved to cradle her against him, his magical fingers brushing the tear away, just as another formed in the other eye. “What is it, love? What’s wrong?”

“This is wrong!” she gasped. “This tawdry setting. And you! Haven’t you an ounce of decency in your black heart? I am not some cheap lightskirt, and I see no humor in your conquest.” Ignoring the warming glint in his observant eyes, she added with a vengeance, “And don’t make it even more sordid by pretending you care about my feelings. It is quite obvious you do not. Now if you’ll allow me the dignity of covering myself ....”

His tone was instantly tough, sarcastic. “What? And risk changing your low opinion of me? Perhaps I should take your clothes away and force you to parade for my pleasure ....” His eyes burned her flesh with their smoldering perusal even as his words caused a tremor to engulf her. But when he saw the hurt and fear in her expression, knowing she believed absolutely that he was capable of heaping such humiliation on her, Stewart abruptly rolled away and swung himself up from the bed, angry, no longer with her, but with himself for his dark humor.

Sarah scrambled o ff the mattress and away from the stark reflection of herself in the mirror. Her limbs felt weighted and numb as she shakily repaired her dishabille. Feeling sharp brown eyes boring into her back did little to ease her troubled spirits. She knew Stewart was very angry with her and this made her earlier pleasure seem all the more vulgar and tragic.

Butwhatdidheexpectofher?Tohaveher fall happily into his arms, heedless of the consequences? His triumphant, disquieting mood had convinced her that his domination of her physical body was the only appeal she held for him. Where would she be left once she had made the ultimate sacrifice? The answer was more troubling than she cared to ponder.

But briefly, spurred on by the hot glow left by his skilled touch on her innocent flesh, she realized what a tender trap he had set. The awakening of this primitive need prompted an almost desperate longing for more caresses incautiously accepted. How long could she remain strong when she was forced to share intimate quarters and these all-too-dangerous private moments?

The threat was not even abated when they were in the company of others, Sarah realized dejectedly. For a man who held such a dim view of marriage, Stewart convincing husband proud and protective of his bride – the perfect mate. His words, breaking into her thoughts, startled her.
was an enthusiastic and

– affectionate, considerate,

“Are you ready to go?” It was impossible to tell what he was feeling, for his voice was even, unemotional.

“Y-yes,” she stumbled, not daring to look back at him lest her eyes give away her pain and confusion. She slowly began her walk to the door, willing herself not to flinch when his large hand embraced her bare elbow as he gained her side.

In silent agreement, both assumed their roles with seeming effortlessness as soon as they joined their host, despite the new level of tension between them. Survival was a great compromiser, Sarah mused cynically as she Stewart’s warm gazes and confidence of a woman used to her husband’s cherished adoration. But why? Why did his supple fingers grasping the curved wine glass have the capacity to remind her of their other, more formidable talents? If she couldn’t steel herself against such forbidden memories, how would she ever survive his persistence?
lovingly returned spoke with the

Though d’Alava and Jeremiah did not perceive it, and could have no way of knowing, the narrowly wed couple was keenly and desperately aware that their relationship had altered considerably in this short space of time since arriving at the pirate island. But neither could name the change sufficiently nor foretell its ultimate consequence.
CHAPTER 22

The bright dawn broke through bare bedroom windows, its brilliance only partially dissipated by the thick jungle foliage outside. Sarah stretched languorously, feeling hot and uncomfortable in her heavy, long-sleeved gown unsuited for this tropical climate. But quite necessary under the circumstances, she told herself, pushing a damp ringlet away from her flushed face. Her head turned tentatively on the pillow and her eyes rested first on the long bolster she had insisted on placing down the center of the wide mattress. The overhead mirror caught her attention and she could not help but look up, immediately taking notice of the long, partially draped body on the other side of the barricade.

An involuntary shiver possessed her as her eyes took in the bronzed chest, and more shockingly, a length of leg, muscular and firm, which had somehow lost its sheet. Quickly raising her view, she was surprised to find herself gazing into sleepy brown eyes that noted her observation with casual indifference. Snapping her eyes shut, Sarah rolled onto her stomach, pressing her hot face into the pillow.

Why had he commanded that they sleep in the same bed, she mused angrily. Hadn’t she unselfishly offered to take to the floor? The bath? But in his irritatingly reasonable manner, he had bade her to consider that the net-hung bed was the only place she would be truly safe from mosquitoes and other hungry insects. Her retort that such discomforts were signaled the end threatened to tie her within the grotesque chamber if she uttered another refusal. In mute defiance, she had flung the bolster down the center of the abhorrent bed, her steely blue eyes daring him to cross the boundary. With a chuckle he had shrugged, saving his final salvo for much later, when she had all but drifted off to sleep. “Don’t let this bag of cloth and feathers lull you into a false sense of security, my dear. I’m merely too tired to fight you – tonight.”
preferable to his nearness

of his patience, and he had

A knock at the door ended her bitter remembrances and she raised her head just as Stewart tossed the bolster above their heads. “Galena may not understand your perverted habits,” he grinned lazily. Without warning, he filled the void with his own body, bidding the maid to enter at the same time he slipped a sinewy arm beneath his wife and pulled her close to his bare chest.

“You brute!” she hissed between clenched teeth, enraged at his clever entrapment. There was not a moment to struggle but she made a discreet attempt to lift her cheek from the hollow beneath his chin only to find him using strong fingers to pin against his chest the hand she had used for leverage.

Therefore, when Galena entered with a breakfast tray of coffee and sweet breads, her eyes took in a most romantic scene. The bride, cuddled so close to her strong, handsome husband, looked flushed and embarrassed behind the gossamer curtains. Galena smiled at their inability to keep their hands off each other, though it was not surprising. Never had she seen such an attractive, devoted couple. With a pleasant smile and a happy greeting, she set the tray next to the bed and proceeded to push aside the netting.

BOOK: Captives' Charade
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