Savannah Heat (44 page)

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Authors: Kat Martin

BOOK: Savannah Heat
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There was a time he would have worried about his men, worried about appearances and the propriety of his actions. Now all he thought of was Silver. He should have known she would blame herself, take responsibility for what had happened even though it was he who should carry the burden. He should have gone to her that first night, knew he should, but felt such bitter remorse he could not face her.

Tonight he would make amends. He would worship her body, earn her forgiveness in the only way he knew how. Tomorrow he would speak the words in his heart.

Chapter 23

Silver slid her arms around Morgan’s neck and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her down to his cabin.

She felt as if she’d come home.

Morgan lifted the latch on his door, shoved it wide with a booted foot, then closed it behind them. “Every night, when I finally gave up and tried to sleep, I’d come in here and see you lying in my bed. I wanted you so badly that most of the time I wound up leaving again.”

“If you had come in a little earlier, you would have found me waiting for you.”

Morgan smiled at that. “I was a fool to put you through this, but I intend to make it up to you.” He bent his head and brushed her lips then settled his mouth over hers, fitting their lips perfectly together. Morgan let go of her legs, and she slid gently down his body, feeling the muscular contours, the ridges in his thighs, and finally his hardened arousal. Her fingers laced into the silky strands of his hair.

“I want you,” Silver whispered, feeling Morgan’s hands on her breast, cupping and caressing; then moving to the buttons at the back of her dress.

“Not nearly as much as I want you.” In minutes he had freed the confining bodice and peeled it away. Long brown fingers dipped below her chemise to her breasts. Then he bared one, lowered his head, and gently took her nipple into his mouth. Silver gasped for breath as she felt him suckling gently, teasing and nipping until the peak grew taut and achy. Shivers of heat raced through her body, erasing the last of her despair.

Morgan stripped away her garments, leaving her naked, his eyes bold and hungry. Then with hands a little unsteady, he lifted her up on the bed. She was certain he would remove his own clothes before he joined her, but instead he kissed her hard and began to place small, moist kisses down her body, trailing a path of fire.

“Morgan?” she whispered, unsure of his intentions as he settled himself between her legs.

“Let me love you,” Morgan whispered. “Let me make amends for the hurt I’ve caused.” Before she could form a protest, his mouth nipped teasingly along her thigh and his fingers slipped into the wetness at the juncture of her legs, easing out and then in in a sensuous rhythm.

When his tongue followed his hand, Silver instinctively arched against him, urging him onward, spiraling higher and higher. Morgan licked and soothed and sampled. The feel of his mouth stirred white-hot fires that shimmered across her skin, the sensations so delicious she could almost taste them. As if she could, her tongue wet the corners of her mouth and she moaned. Surely she should stop him, give him back some of the pleasure he gave her. She wanted to, she meant to, but Morgan fought any attempt to move away, and his skillful ministrations finally whirled her over the edge.

Trembling all over, Silver cried out his name, begging to feel him inside her.

He left her for only a moment, then his heavy weight settled at her side and he kissed her, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth in an age-old possession Silver gladly accepted. When she felt him part her thighs with his knee and guide himself to the warm wet opening at her core, she arched against him. Morgan drove home in one powerful surging stroke.

“I’ll never let you go,” he whispered against her ear.

Silver clutched him tighter. “I never want to leave.”

Morgan shifted on the bed, drawing her up on top of him. She rode him like a fiery wild stallion, her head falling back, her hair hanging down to tease his groin.

They made love for hours, Morgan teaching her joys she hadn’t imagined, delighting her, and allowing her to please him in return. Once in the middle of the night she felt warm tingling sensations and opened her eyes to find Morgan fitted against her, spoon fashion. He grinned and nipped her shoulder just as he slid himself inside. Silver gasped at the heated sensations, the feel of his rock-hard body, and the fullness of his shaft. Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to the long, deep strokes that aroused her to frenzy and let him continue his magic.

She wished he would say that he loved her, but for now the words didn’t matter. Morgan was back in her arms, and Silver was the happiest woman on earth.

Morgan awoke before dawn. For the first time in days he felt rested. He felt alive and whole, and he
owed it all to Silver. She stirred on the mattress beside him.

“Good morning.” He nibbled the side of her neck, and soft strands of hair tickled his nose.

Silver smiled. “Yes, it is. In fact, it’s a fabulous morning.”

He propped himself up on an elbow to study her face, saw the enchanting glow of her happiness, and felt a surge of leftover guilt. “These past few days have been a nightmare for both of us. It was my fault. I should have come to you, tried to explain the way I felt.”

“It isn’t easy for you,” Silver said. “It’s never been easy for me either.”

Morgan brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “We’ll just have to learn.”

She kissed him softly on the lips. “Where do we start?”

“We started last night. You came to me and now there are no more secrets between us, no dark mysteries, no worries.”

Silver glanced away.

“Are there, Silver?”

She forced a smile in his direction. “Of course not.” She knew she should tell him about her father; it was a secret that would always lie between them. Then she thought of what he might say, how he might feel … In the end she might have to tell him, but she couldn’t do it now. Going to him last night had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. She didn’t have the strength to deal with that kind of emotion again so soon. “Besides, we’ve got time to learn more about each other. We’ve got at least two weeks till we reach Barbados.” She wasn’t about to mention Katonga. That could come later.

“Yes,” Morgan agreed, his gaze moving over her,
“we have plenty of time.” But his jaw tightened at the lie he saw in her eyes—the lie he had seen there before. Bloody hell, when would they learn to trust each other? Yet how could he blame her after what he had done? If Silver hadn’t come to him, would he have gone to her, trusted her with his feelings? As soon as they’d returned from the prison, he had started to distance himself, to shield himself from his emotions.

After Charlotte, he had taught himself well.

“Neither of us is much good at trusting,” Morgan said. “But we care for each other—a great deal, it seems. In time trust will come.” He couldn’t say the word
love
. He just couldn’t. Not after the lie. Not until he knew the truth she had hidden for so long.

“About Hernández …” Silver said softly. “He was delayed while he searched for you. He wasn’t with me long before you arrived.”

Morgan sat up beside her. “I’m glad he didn’t hurt you, but even if he had taken you, it wouldn’t change the way I feel. Nothing he could have done would have made me stop wanting you.”

Silver lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the calloused palm. “Enough to move your clothes back in here?”

“That, milady, will be a pleasure.”

“You’re looking lovely, Delia.” William Hardwick-Jones stood in front of the tall window behind his desk, his large hands clasped behind his back. “Fertility seems to agree with you.”

Delia’s hand lifted protectively to the rounded swell of her stomach.

“You know why I’ve brought you here.” William’s hard black eyes fixed on her face.

“I don’ know where Miss Silver go. She don’ say. Mon jus’ say he bring her bock.”

“So you have no idea where he might have taken her.”

“No, suh.”

“I don’t believe you.” William rounded the desk and strode toward the willowy woman in her faded blue shift who stepped back at his approach.

“It’s de truth, I swear it.”

William gripped her chin. “One more week. That’s what I’ll give you and that black demon you call your man. If you don’t know where they’ve gone, find someone who does. There are boats in and out of here with supplies; someone somewhere must have seen them.” When he reached toward her, Delia tried to back away, but William caught her arm and dragged her up close.

His cold hand closed over her stomach. “That little bundle you carry belongs to me, just like you do. Find out where she is, or I’ll see it’s disposed of, one way or another.”

Delia stared at him in horror. A sob rose in her throat, and her fingers flew to her lips to stifle the sound. When William released her, she backed away.

“Remember what I’ve said,” he told her. Delia turned and fled the room.

“I don’t think she knows anything.” Sheridan Knowles got up from the tufted leather chair where he’d been sitting.

“Maybe not, but you can bet if any of the darkies know, she’ll find out.”

“I tell you she’s with Trask. Rumor has it they’re due back any day. The Frenchman who hired Trask’s mercenaries promised a two-month hitch. Time’s almost up.”

“Good.” William smiled thinly. “Double the welcoming
party. I want no slipups. I want her home, and I want her home now.”

In the days that followed, Morgan and Silver spent every spare moment together. They walked the decks for hours, talking about the future, discussing private dreams and goals, though it wasn’t easy for either of them.

“What do you want, Silver?” Morgan asked as they stood at the rail on a bright, windswept morn. The sky appeared blue, the sea frothy, and the sun felt warm overhead. “What would make you happy?”

She smiled up at him, admiring his handsome features, the strong line of his jaw. “I never asked myself that until I met you. All I could think of was getting away from Katonga. Trying to find some small bit of happiness that I could call my own. I liked being independent, even if it meant working in that god-awful tavern.”

“Is being independent so important?” He looked as imposing as he had the first day she’d seen him. The tan was back in his face, the bleakness gone from his eyes.

“In a way it is. But now that I’ve met you, I understand that two people can be independent and still be together. You make me feel that way, Morgan, as if I’m finally complete. Can you understand that?”

Morgan nodded. He wanted to tell her he knew exactly what she meant, that he couldn’t imagine life without her. But he didn’t. Damn, it was hard to tell her how much he cared. “Unlike you, I’ve always been on my own,” he said instead. “I was twelve when my father died; my mother died soon after. At fifteen I left England for good. My brother was five years younger, a big responsibility, but I didn’t
mind. He made me feel needed. After I got older, I didn’t think I cared about that anymore. Now I know differently.”

“I need you, Morgan.”

Morgan bent his head and kissed her, a gentle, reassuring kiss that made her feel safe and warm. “No more than I need you.”

They spoke about Jacques and Teresa, how happy they had seemed. “I think he fell in love with her the first time he saw her,” Morgan said. “She was a sassy little thing, just the kind of woman Jacques needs.” He cast Silver a hungry glance, and a corner of his mouth curved up. “Jacques taught me to appreciate a woman with fire.”

Silver smiled, but too soon she glanced away.

Morgan cupped her cheek with his hand, forcing her to look at him. “What is it? Tell me.”

“I know what you want in a woman,” she said softly. “I hardly fit the description.”

“You’re wrong, Silver. You know what I thought I wanted. I was a fool. It’s clear to me now, just as Jacques said, I could never be happy with a woman like Lydia Chambers or any of the others I’ve spent time with. I need a woman who isn’t afraid to stand up to me. A woman of strength and passion. I need you, Salena.”

Silver slid her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love in her heart.

Reluctantly Morgan pulled away. “Keep that up and I’ll haul you back to my bed.” He smiled roguishly. “Which brings us to another subject: How do you feel about children?”

Silver smiled, too. “I love children. Delia and I used to sit with the newborn babies on Katonga whenever we could sneak away. They were so tiny
and helpless. I’d love a little boy who looks just like you.”

“A little girl like you wouldn’t be bad either. As I recall, you were the apple of your father’s eye.”

Silver’s smile faded. “You won’t take me back there. I mean, you’ll take me to Georgia, won’t you?”

Morgan took her hand. “I’ve got to see William. I’d like his approval if he’ll grant it. I want him to know that you’re well and safe and that you’ll be cared for properly. As my wife you’ll—”

“Wife? But we haven’t talked about marriage. You haven’t even asked me.”

Morgan grinned. “My darling Salena, what do you think we’ve been talking about? I’ve been waiting for the proper moment. I wanted to do it right this time.”

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