Prisoner of Desire (16 page)

She smiled, there was no stopping it. Joy coated his words, that and hope. The tension knotting her neck loosened. But as one worry blew away on the new wind, another filled the vacancy. She was suddenly keenly aware they were alone. An entire crew was mere feet away, but surrounded by his personal space, it felt very intimate.

Their embrace on the beach instantly sprang to mind.

There was a part of her which liked that all too much. It flickered and built inside her. Her eyelashes fluttered before she found the strength to stop the nervous reaction.

"I brought you some muslin up from the hold." He placed a bundle on the table. Holly rolled over, interested in what he'd delivered. She hopped onto the table, her yellow eyes on the fabric.

"How thoughtful." It was too. Her chemise was becoming stale. She hesitated to wash it because that left her with nothing to wear while it dried.

Nothing save Warren's shirts that was. There were several of them stored neatly beneath the bunk she slept in. After three days of heat and sweat, her resolve to remain firm and refuse to wear his things, simply because they were his, was weakening.

"But I couldn't accept anything."

He snorted. A deep frown marred his features. "I brought you aboard with nothing but the clothing on your back. I believe it fair to give you a few of the bolts of fabric from my hold."

"You have more fabrics?"

He shrugged. "I am a merchant."

"Oh, I see."

His lips curved as he watched the surprise cross her face. "My country is young. The Huntress doubles as a naval ship, but I inherited my trade from my father."

"And your brothers did as well." Lorena looked at Holly, understanding making its way through her. The bird was not a vanity but something that had come on board during trading voyages.

Truly Warren had been driven to the edge of his endurance by the captivity of his brothers. He was as caught in the net as she was. The bundle of fabric represented the honest trade he made his living from, a decent, civilized trade. She might have met him at any formal dinner party and flirted with him.

Except she hadn't. Why was she having so much trouble recalling that fact?

"I simply cannot accept goods from you."

His face darkened. "And why not?"

"That is obvious. We are not family." And a lady did not accept gifts of clothing from a man. Not unless she was his mistress.

"And a damn good thing too, since I can't keep my mind off you, Lorena."

She stood up at the use of her first name. "It would be best if we maintained formality."

"So you keep telling me." He rounded the table and caught her chin before she managed to back up.

"Maybe I could do that if I hadn't tasted you." Hunger glowed from his eyes. "Formality behind a closed door is misplaced now that I know how sweet your mouth is."

She gasped. Shaking her head, she freed herself from his grip. Maybe he allowed her to but that did not matter. Her temper flared hotter than the Caribbean sun.

"So you believe you have the right to treat me familiarly, sir? One kiss does not make me your property."

"Kissing you made me your slave, Lorena. Hearing my name cross your lips brought me to my knees."

His words were raw. He reached across the distance and stroked her cheek once more. A shudder shook her, his keen gaze noticing it. His fingers played across her chin, lightly, so lightly she leaned forward to make sure the contact didn't end.

"Touching you was a fatal mistake, but I don't lament it."

He closed the last step between them. Her denial got stuck somewhere deep in her throat. She caught his scent again. It filled her senses,

overwhelming everything that wasn't a pure response. All of the practiced manners and logical behaviors became overshadowed by the man pulling her against his body.

"I just spent three days longing for another taste. Endless hours filled with me fighting off the urge to come down here."

He sealed her response beneath his lips. Firm and commanding, his mouth teased hers. He

cupped the back of her head, angling it to fit perfectly against his mouth. Her hands lay on his chest. Hard and sculpted into ridges, the fine cotton of his shirt didn't prevent her from tracing the muscles.

But she detested that fabric. What she wanted was skin-on-skin contact. The need bubbled up from her belly, hot and almost violent. She twisted in his embrace, trying to feed her needs.

His kiss deepened, letting his mouth become more demanding. The tip of his tongue slipped

along her lower lip, separating it from her upper one until he thrust it between them.

A soft whimper rose from her throat. Sensation spiralled down her body. She was caught

between equal parts of delight and yearning. Her heart accelerated, warming her skin. The layers of her petticoat became hated because they kept her skin covered. She wanted to be bare, wanted to be free to feel his hand gliding along her legs. She gripped his shirt, tugging on it in frustration.

The hand on the back of her head tightened, his tongue penetrating her mouth.

Sweet shock filled her but he stroked her tongue with his, teasing it until she mimicked him. His chest rumbled with a groan, deep and male, touching the yearning need which pulsed between

her thighs. It was hotter now, more insistent. She wanted his touch on that most forbidden of places. It was shocking but not frightening. A flood of sensation carried her into a furnace of flames that all danced in wild abandonment.

A bell began ringing. It only added to the insanity of the moment. But Warren lifted his head, a snarl crossing his lips. His arms tightened around her, holding her tightly against him, but the bell rang faster.

"Squall." His eyes burned with passion. He locked stares with her, unwilling to release her. "But I'm not sure if the one in here isn't more threatening than the one on the horizon."

"I quite agree." She could have bitten her tongue in half for letting the words slip out. He chuckled. She slapped at the hard planes of his chest, but he held her in place. It wasn't right that he was so much stronger than she, but what frustrated her the most was how exciting she found that fact. What she should be was offended, outraged and a few other things. Instead she fought the urge to stare at his mouth.

"Release me."

He stroked his hands down her back instead. A shiver went through her, slicing away at her

resolve to resist. He watched her face, hunger flickering in his eyes.

"For the moment I will, but I promise we are going to finish this."

She slapped his wide chest. But it was out of frustration, not anger. "You.. .you..."

One eyebrow arched mockingly. "Me... what?"

She sputtered. "You.. .American. With your rebellious nature and deviation from proper conduct."

He opened his arms and she staggered backwards. His face became pensive. "But the sea has long been a place where countries have less meaning than the person standing next to you."

He paused in the doorway looking too large and imposing for her to bear. No one should be able to undermine years of dedication to controlling her emotions.

Warren chuckled in the face of her disapproval. "But I rather like the idea of being different from the man you were sent to marry. I did you a favor by taking you out of that miserable fort."

Her temper cooled. Oh, it wasn't the correct thing to do, but she did agree with him. The ship suddenly dipped and she reached for the table to keep herself on her feet. Warren remained in place, his boots braced in a wide stance. He looked so confident, it radiated from him.

"In fact, I find myself thinking you might adapt to my country as well as you've adapted to everything else, Lorena."

"You cannot keep me, sir."

He raised that eyebrow once more. His lips curved in a sensuous grin which sent her heart

beating faster. His gaze lowered to her mouth, lingering there for long moments.

"I told you, Lorena, the choice will be yours." He stepped close and stroked one side of her face.

"But that doesn't mean I won't try to persuade you to my way of thinking."

That hand slid into her hair to capture the base of her neck. His grip tightened, holding her in place for another kiss. This one was hard and full of intention. His lips demanded, pressing hers apart until his tongue was able to thrust deep into her mouth. The hand on her nape held her securely in place for his mouth to ravish.

She kissed him back.

There was no stopping herself. She followed his lead, tasting his mouth. Sweet delight filled her, intoxicating her. Her hands reached for him, stroking over his shoulders.

The ship rolled again, hard enough to make the open windows rattle. Warren lifted his mouth from hers, frowning darkly.

"Later." He crossed the cabin before she drew enough breath to speak. He paused in the doorway, sweeping the cabin with a look of experience.

"Secure everything. We're about to see how well you adapt to rough seas." His eyes returned to hers, holding her gaze. "Lorena."

The Huntress pitched violently. She rolled and dipped all the while her crew manned her. Lorena could hear the shouts of the officers. Warren's voice boomed over the howling wind and she

recognized it even with the door closed. The scuff of boots vibrated through the ceiling of her cabin, telling her just how much effort it took for the men to remain on their feet. Rain pelted the glass windows, sounding more like gravel than water. As the ship pitched and heaved, white caps of waves were visible. Lorena checked the locks on each window several times before wedging herself in the corner of the bunk to keep herself from harm.

Lady Holly did not care for the rough weather. The parrot's cage was secured at the top and bottom but when the Huntress pitched so did the cage. The parrot finally gave up squawking

about it and settled for glaring at Lorena.

There was a wild excitement in the motion, a pinching feeling in the pit of her belly when the bow dipped downed. It reminded her of long-past days when her father had tossed her into the air while her mother warned him she would vomit all over him. She never had, not even when

her father swung her around and around while holding on to her wrists. He'd let her go and she'd tumbled head over heels in a heap of laughter and tossed skirts.

She was not afraid of the weather. She was more concerned with being hit by one of the chairs.

They had begun slipping and sliding

across the smooth floor almost the moment Warren left. There was nothing to tie them down

with, so she'd pushed them onto their sides and wedged them between the wall and table. Now the whole mass moved only when the Huntress rolled to an extreme angle.

But those instances grew less and less until they stopped. The rain wasn't pelting the windows any longer either. Lorena moved from her corner of the bunk toward the windows. It was

impossible to see anything, no moonlight in sight. Only a gray shimmer that allowed her to

barely make out the furniture in the cabin. She didn't dare light a lantern. The ship was still creaking as it bobbed on the rough seas. But the air smelled fresher. She drew in a deep breath, took a chance and opened one of the rear windows just long enough to allow the smell of rain inside.

"You do love the elements."

She dropped the window, the glass rattling dangerously. In the dark, Warren looked like a

spectre. Huge and imposing, but she could actually smell the water on him. It was a relief after the hot weather had seemed to dry out every plank of wood making up the ship.

"Not that I can blame you, considering the hot spell we just suffered through."

"It's over now?" Hope edged her words. "The water barrels full again on both ships?" And on him. She was jealous, her skin suddenly feeling even more grimy.

"Overfull. I came down to see if you want to come up for a shower."

"A what?"

He moved closer, the shadowy form shifting in the dark room. "You have adapted far better than I ever thought a woman might thus far. Now that the storm has lost its bite you can stand under the back sails and let the water pour down over you. It's a sailor's way of washing away the sweat and salt."

"Oh..." She clamped her lips shut against the impulse to say yes. It tempted her. Actually taunting her with just how good water would feel against her dry skin.

"I've sent my men to their hammocks and the ones on watch I placed on the bow. They'll mind where their attention goes or answer to me."

"I really couldn't." She hated civilized behavior. She wanted that shower. A fine tremor shook her because she longed for it so badly.

"Could be three weeks before we make port." His voice took on a velvet smooth edge.

"That's unfair. You're toying with me now. It's really quite unkind."

He reached out and captured her hand. His skin was warm and wet. "Only because I know what it's like to sail out and away from all the rules."

She gasped, too tempted not to stand. "I never thought about it like that."

He pulled her closer to the door. "You never envisioned me in top hat and tails, every inch the proper gentlemen?"

She laughed, unable to resist. The darkness was magical in a way. It was a veil that concealed their actions.

"Now who is teasing whom?" The cabin door opened and he pulled her through it. The sound of the storm was louder here. The crisp rhythm of rain drops striking the deck like music.

"I might have met you at a social gathering in Northfleet and you would have allowed me to sign your dance card gladly."

"Oh no. My stepfather forbade dancing or attending any gathering which allowed such."

Warren climbed the steep stairs to the command deck. A hatch was closed over the top of it and he pushed it up. Rain fell down and hit her face. Refreshing little drops that drew another happy laugh from her. The dry days had parched her skin. He reached back for her, his open palm an invitation she couldn't seem to resist. He held her securely while she climbed up to the deck. The air was cooler, deliciously so. It was dark still, no lantern flickering. A faint glow radiated from the other side of the deck. A set of windows marked where another set of stairs led down into the bow of the ship. The crew was there, making themselves comfortable after pitting their strength against the weather.