Taste of the Devil (24 page)

“I did.” He threw Cappy a saucy grin before entering the cabin and kicking the door shut behind him.

Ginny could hear the cheers of the pirates right through the thick wooden door. “For the last time: Put me down.”

“As you say, madam.” Unceremoniously, he tossed her onto his bunk.

Sputtering with indignation, Ginny raised herself up, palms flat on the bed, and–

Found herself at a loss for words.

The Panther stood at the head of the bunk, glowering down at her. A muscle ticked in his strong jaw, an outward indication that he was still furious at finding her aboard Creaze’s vessel. He tugged the scarf off his head and tossed it onto his desk. Long, black locks fell about his shoulders. Ginny decided that the two thin braids plaited in front of his ears made him look rather like a highland barbarian. She could see now that the braids were not tied off with human bones after all, but rather ordinary beads and what she assumed was a shark’s tooth. Just as effective, she granted. A shadow of beard shaded his lower jaw.

Good lord, he is incredibly, indecently, bloody...

Gorgeous!

No wonder he had become a legend of the ton.

Her husband placed his hands on his lean hips and arrogantly waited for an explanation of her behavior.

As if his being a pirate was inconsequential!

Ginny’s mouth pursed. If that was the way he wanted it, she’d be happy to oblige. She fired the first salvo, aiming the finger of accusation squarely at him.

“You consummated me!”

His beautifully shaped lips parted slightly as he hedged between disbelief, laughter, annoyance, anger, and exasperation. A slight curling of the mouth indicated that fond, salacious memory eventually won out. His words confirmed it.

“As I recall, madam, you did not seem to mind at the time.”

She had not been expecting him to be so blunt. It was an unseemly topic for genteel discussion. Ginny’s face colored.

Acknowledging her silence, he added, “Perhaps I should remind you of that pleasure in detail; just in case you’ve forgotten how you screamed my name.

Over and over.”

Despite her embarrassment, she recovered quickly.

“And what name was that Lord Pirate?” she flung righteously back at him. “You apparently have several.”

“Should we test the waters and see which one comes forth?” he offered slyly.

Her eyes widened and she scooted back on the bed.

“We both took pleasure from the experience, Ginny.

You are my wife in every way– you cannot deny it.”

She shook her head. “We are not in agreement. I shall not remain married to the likes of you. ‘Twas bad enough when you were just a randy rake– but a pirate to boot? It’s beyond the pall! I am going to the colonies and when I reach my majority I shall have you annulled from my life.” She snapped her fingers as if removing him from her reality was that simple a deed.

He blinked.

Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Hardened ruffians wouldn’t dare speak with him in such a manner. She did not hesitate one whit.

“What is so funny?”

“You cannot annul me, my tenderhearted sentimental lily bud. Nor can you annul our marriage.

We have slept together, c-o-n-summated the vows. You are as they say ‘caught’.”

“The devil you say!”

He sketched her a bow. “The devil just did.”

That nonplussed her for a few seconds. “Then-then we shall live separate lives.” She lifted her chin in the air to signify her higher ground.

“Why?”

“Why?” She was flummoxed. “You, you violated our agreement! Vigorously.”

He shrugged, tipping her a tiny grin. “Well, I am a pirate, love.”

She let out a long, exasperated breath. “Have you not been listening to me at all?”

“I have. I have not heard any denials that you enjoyed our time together. Why should we stop?”

“Because I do not want to- I do not want a husb... you tricked- you- you are a pirate, Tyler!”

He scratched his jaw. “Isn’t that what I just said to you?” He unclasped his belt, removing his pistols and sword.

Then he tossed a dagger onto the desk.

And small pistol from the cuff of his boot.

And a dirk hidden behind the back of his shirt collar.

And another dagger from the back of his waistband.

And still another concealed in his sleeve.

Ginny threw her hands up in the air. “Good lord, are you armed enough?”

“Sometimes not.” He stared evenly at her, driving home the point that he often engaged in ruthless fights to the death. It was the manner in which he apparently lived a good deal of the time.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

She wanted adventure in her life; not the gallows.

She sank onto her knees on top of the ruffled covers.

“Why do you do this Tyler? You have everything a man could want: wealth, a grandfather who loves you- you are heir to a dukedom.”

His face hardened at the mention of the Duke. “Keep your voice down,” he suggested softly. “There are only a few on board who I trust with that knowledge; I’d advise you to keep it to yourself. For both of our sakes.”

She nodded.

“Do not misunderstand me; they are a good crew but I have found it wise in this line of... work, to not tempt fate.”

A good crew? They were bloodthirsty scoundrels.

And her husband was their leader. Why?

He did not answer her question. That was his choice; her decision was to get away from him promptly. “Find me another cabin; and I insist that I am put off at the next port.”

“Do you?” he intoned dryly. He gave her such a piercing look that she scrambled off the bed and went to stand in front of the transom windows. There was something terribly imposing about that look.

Unlike Creaze’s cabin, this one was spacious, with a full wall of mullioned windows. It was also surprisingly clean. The same moonlight that had aided his raid streaked through the glass to partially bathe the room in silvery rays.

She could hear his bootheels tapping against the wooden slats as he strolled casually across the decking to stand behind her. Even those footsteps are intimidating, she realized. How had he disguised himself so?

Warm breath teased the back of her neck. “Apart from being your husband, I am the captain of this ship.

A captain’s word is law on board his vessel. I warn you, as I know well your nature to cause trouble, do not undermine me lest you put all our lives at risk. On this ship, you will obey what I say, Ginny. Do I make myself clear?”

She swallowed at the utter command in his voice.

“If you will respect my wishes; I will respect yours.”

“This is not about respect; it is survival pure and simple. You have led a sheltered life; you have no idea of the danger you have placed yourself and Mabel and even Henley in.” He paused. “Charles, no doubt, is more than able to fend for himself.” He smiled slightly while thinking of the scrappy cat who would undoubtedly fit right in with his bloodthirsty crew.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You jest at a time like this?”

“I wasn’t jesting.”

She shook her head slightly; then turned her attention back to the moonlit sea. “You haven’t answered me as to why I find myself married to the Panther.”

His satiny lips brushed the back of her neck.

“Good fortune?”

“Be serious, Tyler.” She shrugged away from his touch.

“You want me to be serious? Very well.” Strong hands clasped her upper arms, bringing her back against him.

“Did you know that Creaze is a slaver?” he murmured softly in her ear.

The information gave her a start.

“That’s right, sweet. He is the worst sort of villain.

How you came upon him, I don’t know, but I will find out. Thank your lucky stars I had to run him down, for your companions would already be dead or worse.

I will not tell you the fate he had in mind for you.”

She gasped. “That’s not true!”

“It is true. Ask anyone on this ship; they all know Willie Creaze and his dealings.”

Ginny shook as she realized how close they had all come to ruin. Henley’s intuition had been right. She had ignored her own misgivings as well– she would not make that mistake again. Not when it came to her beloved Henley, Mabel, and Charles. They had been very lucky indeed.

So Tyler hadn’t actually come to rescue them, but he hadn’t left them there, either.

Which was something, considering.

She stared at him over her shoulder, rather nonplussed. There were stories about the infamous pirate Blackbeard and his good lady wife; they said she disagreed with him in public one day and was never seen again. They said he took her to sea and gave her to his crew, effectively erasing her from life. Ginny’s departure from London was more than a response to a simple disagreement between spouses. What would this pirate do to her?

She bit her lip and cocked her head to the side.

“Do you plan to blot me out?”

“What?” he almost choked on air.

“Like Blackbeard did to his wife?”

Tyler arched his brow. A dimple popped into his cheek, delineating his sensual features. White teeth flashed in the moonlight, betraying an amused grin. “It’s what I’ll do before I do the ‘blotting’ that you should be concerned about.” Chuckling, he encircled her waist and pulled her back against his warmth. He nuzzled playfully into her neck.

Ginny refused to be wooed over, remaining rather stiff in his arms. His hot breath tickled.

“Really, love, do you think I would do that to you?” His teeth caught her earlobe and nipped. “Especially when we get on so well.”

Ginny’s heel ground into the arch of his foot.

It had no effect on him at all.

She stared mutinously at the water, trying her best to ignore his attentions. It was not easy. He was deliciously warm in the cold room and that masculine body pressed against her felt so utterly perfect.

“Do you like the flow of the ocean?” he breathed hotly in her ear. “The peaks and the dips...” The flat of his palm rubbed her stomach in a circular motion.

“There’s a wonderful rhythm to it, isn’t there?” The heel of his hand pressed her back into him. This time when she felt the hardness against the lower curve of her back, she knew exactly what it was. The part of him that got large when he was near her. The part of him that had been inside her.

Then his fingers dipped lower, between her legs.

He rubbed the thin cotton of the nightrail against her nether lips with tender, sweeping brushes. A velvety mouth played at her throat, drawing on the skin with little kisses and tiny scrapes of his teeth. The arm across her narrow waist held her so tightly to him that the juncture between her legs grew damp then wet with moisture. The rogue’s fingertips were like magic–

he knew when to lightly graze, when to press, when to tap. Like a master musician playing an instrument.

He slid the edge of his palm along the crevice, letting the sticky fluids glide his path as the material tugged against her. The blood pulsed between her legs; thick and hot.

A small sound issued from Ginny’s throat as he pressed down between her nether lips with his second and third fingers while his other fingers pressed the sides together, bringing incredible pleasure to her. Her honey flowed freely over his hand.

“Don’t you like me... just a little... Ginny?” he whispered. A silky tongue teased the canal of her ear, causing her to quiver.

He paused to catch her eye. Slowly, he swiped his tongue along the edge of his hand– the one he had slid between her legs. “I like you.”

She choked on her breath, shocked.

Smoothly, he lifted her arms above her head, draping them behind his neck. The back of his hands brushed the inside of her arms, and down the sides of her full breasts– both thumbs flicking simultaneously over the peaks. Cupping them in his palms, he felt their weight as he teased the hardened nubs between his fingers.

“You could rule the seas with these, love,” he grinned like a true rogue.

“And what good would it do me to rule the seas if I loose my soul,” she asked him pointedly.

He frowned slightly. Cupping her chin, he turned her face towards him. “There are some things worth losing one’s soul for.” His lips covered hers.

The marauder took her breath away with a deep, hard kiss.

It turned her whole body afire. And when she thought she might faint from the intense sensation, he lifted his mouth a mere hairsbreadth from her own to capture her lower lip and gently suckle upon it.

Ginny moaned despite her resolve to not succumb to his charms. How did he do this to her? One minute she was furious with him– the next she was clay in his arms.

With languid motions, he massaged her shoulders then sunk his fingers into the hair at the back of her head, tangling himself in the long tresses. Like the pirate he was, he fiercely plundered her mouth with a silky invasion of his tongue.

Those renegade lips trailed across her face, her forehead, her eyelids, her earlobe, and the side of her throat... Ginny could feel his hand behind her undoing the buttons on his breeches. His thick, hard member sprang free, scorching her right through the thin cotton of her nightrail. His manhood throbbed against her buttocks.

“Let’s see the truth of it,” he rasped.

Expertly, he turned her in his arms to face him.

Turned her so that he could have complete command over her flesh; to stroke and suckle and tease as he willed. He pressed his lower body against her, letting her feel the throbbing heat of his arousal.

Ginny’s arms were still around his neck; her fingers sank into the thick black mane, tangling with the strands. Lost, she tugged that handsome head down to hers for another of those wild kisses of his. The kind that stole away her breath and reason. His scent was of crisp breezes and rare spices. That hint of coconut and tropical flowers. He smelled of exotic adventure, and she could not get enough of him. She moaned into his mouth.

“I am on the path to treasure,” his hoarse voice feathered across her lips.

But, he edged his hips away from her.

Ginny dug her fingers into his shoulders and tried to coax him back, anything to alleviate the raging, mad desire he had incited in her.