Authors: Sandy Raven
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance
Loving Sarah
“
Adventure runs in my blood.”
“M
y family was establishing trade with countries around the world for hundreds of years before I was born. Because I was born a female I am told I cannot share in those adventures. I cannot sail the oceans and climb the highest peaks. I am allowed an education, but no venue to practice it. That is not the world I want to live in.
“I did leave a note so my family would not worry. And though you may think me spoiled, dancing and parties is not all I do.” She was beginning to mellow now from the delicious wine. After taking another sip, she continued. “I’ll have you know that I devote a great deal of time to volunteering at the children’s hospital founded by my friend’s mother and her aunt. I also assisted in the formation of a lending library in our village, and I currently teach children to read at Haldenwood, our family seat.”
“Is this in between music and dancing lessons?”
“If you must know,” she replied indignantly. “My lessons were over four years ago. I’m going to be twenty-one years of age in just two months.”
“Hmmm…. So you’re nearly a spinster, aren’t you?”
Even with the thin veil of humor tinging his voice, she was offended by his comment. She knew that the clocked ticked louder for her to find a mate, having spent these past years more enjoying herself than finding a husband. She didn’t need her captain to remind her of this. So she tossed the slim volume of poetry, which had been under her leg, at him. In return, he grabbed her ankle with a firm grip and yanked her forward until her bottom rested against his thigh. With her legs over his lap, the heat of him radiated through the thin woolen material of her baggy trousers, and she became very aware of his hard-muscled leg against her buttocks. Bare under the trousers she wore, her breath caught in her chest as one of his big, calloused hands slid up a pant leg, burning a painfully slow trail up her bare calf to rest on her knee, as the other held her in place.
There was no turning back now. This was what she’d led him to, what she’d wanted. And more than likely what he wanted too, as he could turn down this unspoken invitation to a brief affair. The fact that he didn’t made her feel desirable and worthy of passion—yet aching inside with the fact that the love she desired probably wasn’t on this man’s agenda.
But at that moment she didn’t care.
“Stop me, Sarah.” The husky timber in his voice was pleading, almost begging.
His intent gaze held her mesmerized. She could hardly breathe, much less move away from him, but still she managed to shake her head as she mouthed, “No.”
His bare hand rested on her knee while his thumb gently stroked the sensitive skin on the inside of it. Her other leg fell open, and Sarah felt his hardened manhood beneath her thigh. Shocked, she sucked in a breath. Yes. This was what she wanted. With the sensations his touch caused and the desire pooling at her core, how could she stop? The man was insane. Pressure was already building within her to hurry him along.
She wanted his engorged member inside her, claiming her and bringing her to the ecstasy purported to occur after he joined with her. She was ready for this.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, my lady.” His voice was soft and raspy, yet filled with passion. “And with a man who has not had a woman in months.” His fingers caressed the inside of her knee and up a few inches higher. She saw the determined look in his eye, and the tight curve to his lips. “Be sure this is what you want. Once I start, I won’t stop until I’m satisfied.”
She met his carnal stare with one of her own and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I want….”
His large warm hand crept up her thigh slowly. Her breathing hitched. His look told her she had one last opportunity to stop him if she chose. But the aching void in the vicinity of her womb decided for her. “I want satisfaction…as well, Captain.” His hand squeezed the flesh of her inner thigh, just below her moist curls, and a moan escaped her. If she never married, or if she did, this was the moment she would always remember. When Ian asked and she replied.
“I want you, Ian.”
L
OVING
S
ARAH
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014, Sandy Raven
Kindle Version
ISBN-13: 978-1-939359-07-0
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Cover design by
The Killion Group, Inc
Formatting by
Author E.M.S.
Editing by Gail Shelton
Proofreading by
Editorial Inspirations
Dear Reader,
Loving Sarah
is the third book in my series, The Caversham Chronicles, and I hope you enjoy Sarah and Ian’s story too!
I fell in love with tall ships when I was growing up on the Texas Gulf Coast. I was fortunate enough to watch one being restored for several years while working in the building next to it. And almost from the time I could walk I remember loving hot tea (even in summer). As I grew into a voracious reader, I discovered this short period of time in the mid-1800s where they had tea races on tall ships from China to London, before the Suez Canal was built and steam engines made sailing obsolete. I fell in love with those stories and prints of famous paintings of tea clippers at full sail racing back to London with their hulls loaded with China’s finest offerings for that year. I always knew I was a writer, even when I was forced to pass algebra, and it was inevitable that I would write a tea clipper story.
Loving Sarah
and
Lucky’s Lady
are the clipper stories I had to write.
Because the timing is off by ten to twelve years for it to be official tea races, my fictitious setup to those races is here, where Lucky and Ian race each other home. In the next book, there is mention of the number of boats participating in the race home from China increasing.
Though the
Ann McKim
did exist at the time, she obviously did not come from Ian’s father’s shipyard because it did not exist. I created Watkins Shipbuilding, and Harbor Village, in the area called Curtis Bay to serve my story.
Also, there have been many spellings for the Chinese port of Fuchow (Fuzhou and Foo Chow). I chose to use the version my editor selected, though I have seen all of the above spellings in ship logs and other documentations regarding the tea trade.
In the summer of 2014, be on the lookout for the fourth book in the series,
Lucky’s Lady
. It picks up right where
Loving Sarah
ends.
In his book, Lucky falls in love with an incredibly intelligent young woman who is a naval architect designing ships for her elderly husband who owns a shipyard that constructs the famous Baltimore clippers. Mary Michael Watkins is a young woman who desperately wants to conceive a child before her husband dies, and he wants her to have a child too because it’s the one thing he could never give her. The man even goes so far as to help her choose Lucky as the perfect candidate for siring said child and facilitating their time alone. Knowing she’s running out of time, and acknowledging there is more than just an ordinary attraction with the captain, Mary Michael accepts Lucky’s flirtatious overtures knowing that once his business with her shipyard is over, he’ll leave her and she’ll hopefully have a child to raise—a son or daughter to inherit the shipyard and her husband’s fortune.
What she doesn’t count on is falling in love with a man to whom family, loyalty, and love mean everything.
I would love to hear from you! So, if you have any questions or comments, I’m online at
www.SandyRaven.com
,
www.Facebook.com/SandyRavenAuthor
, and
www.Google.com/+SandyRavenAuthor
.
Sincerely,
Sandy Raven
A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
To the Beta Crew: Rosetta Boydston, Mary Mallini, Melinda Hicks, Janet Firestone, Gabriella Ortiz, and Donna Padilla. You ladies are awesome and I adore you. You don’t gripe when I ask for a quick turnaround.
To my husband, mother-in-law, and both daughters: I love you more than you can ever know.
And a very special thank you to Michael.
C
HAPTER
O
NE
Liverpool, June 1835
“W
hat about her? She looks fast, doesn’t she?”
“Hmmm…
Aurelia
,” Ian Alexander Ross-Mackeever, grandson of the Earl Mackeever, mused as he strolled alongside his friend Lucky Gualtiero, brother of the Duchess of Caversham. “She may look fast, but she’s not built the way I like. Something about her shape…too curvy if you ask me. It looks like she might fall apart before the ordeal is over.”
“What about that one?
Evangeline
,” his dark, olive-skinned friend asked.
Ian turned his gaze to where Lucky motioned. “Too top-heavy, and her bottom’s too narrow to support her. She’ll tip over in a stiff wind.”
“What about that one?”
“Her bottom’s too broad. She’ll be too slow to tack.”
“Well, you can’t say the same about that one over there. She has a nice, well-proportioned hull. At least what I can see of it.”
Ian didn’t need to consider the vessel in question, for he knew her design well. He should, it was very similar to, if not exactly like, a design of his father’s. “Yes. Nice curves, sturdily built, and I think I know her owner. If it is who I think, he has a load of money, but no skill at the wheel.” He gazed at
Ann McKim
longingly. “She was launched five years ago from the very yard my father helped found and has already broken records for the fastest crossing times for the Atlantic and Pacific in both directions. But a ship like that could do far better with the right man at the wheel.” Sighing, he turned to Lucky. “What that lady needs is a man with a knowledgeable, soft hand and the experience to coax her on when she wants to give up.”
“So, do you think we stand a chance?” Lucky stopped and turned toward him.
Ian looked over the competition once more, and nodded. “Oh, I’d say the odds are very good. Next to McKim’s lady out there, we’ve definitely got the best boats in this race. A little smaller, a little aged, but well broken in. More importantly, both of them are lovingly maintained and handled.” They walked away from the dock and the preparations for the next day’s ceremony. “I believe everything is ready for the morning. God willing, we’ll have good wind.”
