Sea of Desire (32 page)

Yet she couldn’t make herself rise. He pulled
the damp cotton shirt over his head and she just sat and stared at
the strong muscles crossing his back. He shifted, slipping the
breeches over his narrow hips, and her mouth went dry. When he
lifted his hand to reach for her, Merideth lay down beside him,
cuddling close beneath the blanket and closing her eyes.

The uncomfortable sensation of something
tightening around her neck woke Merideth. She swallowed and her
eyes flew open.

“It’s pretty.” Jared brushed the pad of his
thumb across the intricate design etched onto the locket. Sunlight
slanted through the transom window, reflecting off the gold nestled
in his hand. “You wear it all the time?”

“Yes.” Merideth tried to ignore the effect of
his warm fingers against the sensitive skin of her chest. “It was
my mother’s.” All she had left of her mother.

He leaned further over her, supported on one
elbow, and the ribbon that held the locket tightened at the back of
her neck. “Pretty,” he said again, but this time she didn’t think
he referred to the necklace. He turned his hand and spread his
fingers, then slowly lowered his hand from under the locket. The
oval slid onto her skin, the gold hot from his touch, and Merideth
let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

His hand drifted lower, beneath the blanket,
the middle finger following the valley between her breasts. His
thumb and little finger rode the crests till they spanned her
pouting tip to pouting tip.

Merideth’s breathing deepened, and she wet
her suddenly dry lips. His gaze was on her, holding her in its
sea-green depths.

“You, Lady Merideth, are trembling. And
naked.”

“My... my clothes were wet.”

“Mmmm.” He nuzzled the blanket away with his
chin, and Merideth’s eyes drifted shut. His whiskers, shadowy dark,
abraded sensually. “I’m glad,” Jared informed her as his hand
trailed lower, taking the blanket with it. “I’ve never really seen
you... Not in the daylight.”

Merideth’s eyes popped open and she reached
down to cover herself—he’d managed to expose her to just past her
navel—but he was quicker. Clasping her hands in one of his, he
transferred them high above her head. “I haven’t had a good... look
yet.” He inched the blanket lower. Cool air licked at her body, but
the intense heat of his eyes kept her from feeling the chill.

His head lowered, the untamed hair feathering
over her breasts, and he kissed the soft skin of her stomach.
Merideth sucked in her breath, and her head lolled to the side.
That’s when she noticed his maneuverings had left him as exposed as
she.

He must have realized it too, for when he
raised his head, a devilish grin creased the dimple in his cheek.
“It would appear we can both see what we’re about this time.”

She wanted to push him away, to tell him she
had no intention of lying here with him, of seeing anything. But
the truth was, she couldn’t. He was beautiful to her, all dark hair
and steely muscles. Strong and powerful. As much as she wished it
weren’t so, she was addicted to him, to his touch.

He slid down her body, pausing briefly to
whisper his lips along the curve of her hips. Merideth could barely
breathe in anticipation of what was to come. Her stomach grew taut.
He slid his hands beneath her bottom, which raised up to meet him.
Closer, ever closer. His breath fanned the tight, golden curls. And
when he touched her, when his open mouth touched her heated flesh,
Merideth thought she would die from the exquisite pleasure.

His tongue danced over her, slowly,
sensually, and then, as she began to writhe, more aggressively. She
quivered, her body tight, her skin flushed. Then over the edge she
fell. As the storm caught her, shattering all but a modicum of
reality, Merideth called out his name. Over and over again.

He bent over her, his eyes glaring a path
down her body. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice low and
husky. And Merideth felt beautiful, and more exposed than ever in
her life.

She touched him then, her fingers curling in
the hair covering his chest, inching ever lower. Sweat broke out on
his forehead and he squeezed his eyes shut when her hand wrapped
around his thick staff. She stroked. She caressed. And all the
while he swelled, pulsating with need and desire.

“Merry.” The word gritted between clenched
teeth. His hand covered hers, held for a moment, tightening her
grip. Then he pulled them both away.

He poised above her, the only contact that of
their locked gazes. Then he plunged, deep and strong. Merideth
cried out and wrapped her legs around his body, holding him closer.
He filled her completely, then withdrew slowly. Again and
again.

Merideth arched to meet him and his pace
quickened. Powerful thrusts that stroked and sent her spiraling
toward the heavens. His mouth found hers, hot and open, and he
clung to her as his climax swept him away.

Then he could do naught but collapse on her,
his face nestled in her hair, his mind registering only the sweet
scent of her surrender.

He’d tried to bring her to a fever pitch, to
make her want him more than reason itself, and he had. He had back
at Land’s End. And he had again this morning. But there was a price
to pay for such total and consuming passion.

And the price had been him.

His desire. His need for her was as
overwhelming as hers for him.

Jared lay in the cradle of her body while
threads of reality filtered into his brain. To seduce her, to make
her so susceptible to him that she’d tell him all she knew,
required some finesse on his part. Finesse that eluded him whenever
he was around her.

Pushing to his elbows, Jared pulled away. He
was still firm, with very little effort could make love to her
again. But that would be for him. Not for any other reason. She
appeared fully debauched and satiated.

She didn’t speak as he yanked the blanket
over her and turned to wash himself with the bucket of seawater
near the door. He wondered if she watched him, but hadn’t the nerve
to turn and see for himself. Instead he rubbed his skin dry with a
piece of linen and dressed quickly in clean breeches and shirt.

It wasn’t until he reached for the latch that
she spoke. And then her voice was so soft he barely heard her.
“What’s to become of me?” she asked, and Jared swallowed before
turning to face her.

“When you’ve dressed you can come on deck.
Unless I say otherwise, you’ve the run of the ship.”

Merideth held his stare, never flinching till
he turned and left the cabin. Then very slowly she turned her head
toward the bulwark and let the tears flow.

Jared sat at the rough-hewn table of the
wardroom, elbows bracketing a pewter trencher of salt fish and sea
biscuits. He leaned forward, his head held in his hands, but it
wasn’t the platter he saw. It was Merideth Banistar’s pale face.
The way she’d looked at him when he’d left his cabin.

With a muffled curse he dug his fingers
through his unbound hair and slanted back in his chair, his long
legs crossed beneath the table. He’d forgotten to tie back his
hair, but then maybe it had been a conscious omission. He preferred
it loose, with the sea breeze blowing through it. It made him feel
wild and invincible.

Perhaps it was the pirate blood that flowed
through his veins, he thought with a grimace. He blamed too much on
the blood of an ancestor. Jack Blackstone had been a pirate true,
but one who had given up the rogue life to become a respected
planter.

Still, if he was going to act the pirate, he
might as well look the part. And he most certainly was acting the
pirate.

Kidnapping.

Ravishing a woman.

Shaking his head, Jared conceded that he
hadn’t forced Merideth to make love to him. But what he’d done was
almost as bad. He knew the effect he had on her—the same she had on
him. And he’d used that knowledge.

Jared sucked in air and shut his eyes. Could
she be the woman who had betrayed his brother? The “angel” of a
woman?

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you
everywhere.”

Planting his chair on all four legs, Jared
stared across the table at his cousin. His jaw tightened. “Aye.
Here I am.”

“I was just on deck.” Daniel paused to pour
himself a mug of grog. “It appears we weathered the storm all
right.”

“Aye, we did.”

Daniel hesitated momentarily while sliding
onto the bench facing the table. A single candle shone through the
glass panels of the lantern gently swinging overhead. “Do I detect
a note of disapproval in your tone, dear cousin?”

“I don’t recall seeing you after we came
aboard the
Carolina
last night. We could have used every man
during the squall.”

“I was below... trying to stay dry. I’m not
much of a sailor, I’m afraid.”

“Not much of a gentleman either.” Jared
leaned back in his chair, never taking his attention from the man
across the table. Daniel drew himself up, obviously taking
exception to Jared’s assessment.

“Pray tell on what you base that judgment.”
Daniel lifted the mug and sipped at the brew. When he finished he
dabbed at his lip with the corner of a lace-trimmed
handkerchief.

“That first rope sent over the side last
night was meant for Merideth. You took it without a second
thought.”

A smile spread across Daniel’s face. “Is that
all? You think I didn’t treat your paramour with enough
respect?”

Jared was out of the chair so quickly it
flipped back, crashing onto the wooden deck. Palms flattened on the
table, he leaned toward his cousin. He spoke each word calmly, in
sharp contrast to the agitated rise and fall of his powerful chest.
“What she may or not be to me is not the question here. Merideth
Banistar is a lady and thus deserves our respect and protection. A
Blackstone never—”

“Ah, but there’s the rub, dear cousin. We
both know I’m not a true Blackstone. You pointed out as much
yesterday, did you not?”

Jared hesitated only a second before pushing
away from the table. “It was a mere slip of the tongue. I was angry
at the time.”

“Of course, your temper. Something we’ve all
learned to tread softly around. But I think yesterday was more a
matter of declaring a spade a spade. A bastard is not something you
call someone who lays valid claim to the title... unless reminding
him of the fact is your goal.”

“Damn you, ‘tis not true and you know it.”
Jared’s fist came down on the tabletop. “We all decided—John, you,
and me—that your parentage was better left a secret.”

“Yes.” Daniel played with the lace on his
sleeve. “We can’t have anything mar the good Blackstone name.”

“That wasn’t the reason.”

“Don’t try to tell me it was to spare me the
humiliation.” Daniel’s face grew crimson with rage. “I know
better.”

“You and Aunt Rose. Aye, ‘tis true.”

“Ah, dear mother and her deathbed confession.
She could no longer live with the horrid secret of my conception.
Of course, she no longer had to live period. She could just tell
her dirty little story and die.” Daniel stopped fiddling with the
ruffle and looked up at Jared. “While I...
I
had to live
with the knowledge that I was a bastard. And I couldn’t even
conceal this bit of bad business and keep it to myself. She chose
to bear her guilty soul in front of the two people I most wished
didn’t know.”

“We never threw our knowledge up to you.”

Daniel shrugged. “Perhaps not. But I knew
what you thought of me.”

Turning away, Jared paced the small room.
“You’re `wrong about several things.” But right about a few too,
Jared thought, though he wouldn’t admit it. “First of all, Aunt
Rose did not have a guilty soul... a tormented one, perhaps. And
John and I never held what she told us against you.”