The Pirate Takes A Bride (20 page)

Ashley frowned. “I thought it was because the ship was named the
Robin Hood
.”

Shanks shrugged. “Ship were named after the captain, lass.”

One of the men began to discuss the merits of gems versus coin, but Ashley heard nothing but the waves crashing on the shore. When Nick had told her he sold the items he stole from other ships and gave the profits to the poor and needy, she had thought he was making a poor attempt at sarcasm. But he’d spoken the truth.

She glanced at him, his face burnished by the firelight. For so long she had been angry at him, had convinced herself he was cold and heartless. But she could not lie to herself any longer, not when he sat with is daughter on his knee. Not when his men told her he kept nothing of his share of the profits from his piracy. Who was this man?

And if he was so tender, so compassionate, why had he treated her so poorly?

She was more than happy to snuggle with Rissa in the tent until the girl fell asleep, but instead of nodding off along with the child, Ashley remained awake. Her thoughts returned to that night so long ago at Lord Rundale’s ball. The night Nick had scorned her. Why treat her so, if he was a good man at his core? She deserved some sort of explanation, didn’t she? Perhaps it was time she demanded it. Perhaps she finally had the courage to confront him about it.

She rose, swaying slightly on her feet, and marched back to the fires on the beach. Nick was reclining on one elbow and did not see her coming until Chante poked him and nodded to her. Nick rose to his feet and gave her a wary look. “You look as though you should be in bed,” he said. Ashley half expected rude comments from the men sitting about the fire, but of course, this was their captain. They would make them later, out of his hearing.

“I have something I wish to discuss with you.” She glanced at the men. “In private.”

“We can discuss it tomorrow, when your head is clear.”

“My head is clear enough now. Walk with me, if you please, my lord.” She thought she heard him sigh, but after a moment’s hesitation, he excused himself from the men and followed her along the beach. She knew where she was going. There was a secluded spot not far from where the men camped. The island curved, and the trees jutted out so the beach there was hidden. A small brook ran nearby, and she and the women had followed it to a larger pond where they fished. Now she led him back, turning to speak to him when the trees finally obscured them.

The night was clear and the moon gave enough light for her to ascertain that they were alone. “I have something to ask you. I know the answer, but I want to hear it from your lips, just the same.”

Nick’s look was unreadable, but he did not wait for her question, before speaking. “Ashley, you are…if not foxed, close to it. We should have this talk tomorrow.”

“I want to have it tonight.” She folded her arms across her chest and noted how his eyes dipped to follow the movement. The night was warm, but the breeze from the water was refreshing. It chilled her slightly, making her nipples harden. It was too dark for him to see the hard points, of that she was certain, but she became more aware of them when his eyes lowered. Being this near to him made her more aware of everything—the sounds of insects nearby, the whisper of the breeze in the trees, the scent of the island flowers, and the warmth of his body. She remembered the way her body felt when he touched it, and she took a shaky breath before speaking again. “Tomorrow I might lack the courage.”

“If rum is required to give you courage, perhaps it is not a conversation we should undertake at all.” He reached out and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She hoped she did not look as disheveled as she felt. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d brushed her hair. “I can think of better ways to spend a night like this.” He glanced up at the sky, and she knew what he saw—millions and millions of stars. She’d lived in foggy, dirty London most of her life, and the sight of so many stars, seemingly so close she could reach out and touch them, was still a wonder to her.

“That’s what I want to discuss with you,” she said, keeping her gaze on him. “That night at the Rundale’s ball.”

He sighed. “Ashley, that is behind us now. You are my wife. Let’s forget the past.”

She swallowed. She wanted to forget the past. She was desperate to forget it, but she could not. She could not go forward without knowing if her supposition was true. “That night, when I found you in the library, you wanted me to find you, didn’t you?”

He raked a hand through his hair, so a lock fell over his forehead and shadowed his eyes. “Yes. I wanted you to find me. I wanted you to hate me.”

“Because you were too much of a coward to tell me the truth.”

“I couldn’t tell you. I could not risk telling anyone.”

Her mind swam, but even in her rum-induced state, she knew what he said did not make sense. “I don’t understand. If you didn’t want me, you could have just been honest with me.”

“That’s where you are wrong. I did want you.” He stepped closer and his warm hands settled on her shoulders. “I wanted you desperately, and perhaps that was my weakness.”

She swayed slightly, feeling as though her entire world was swimming. Nick had wanted her? Desperately? Then why had he spurned her? Was it possible her disfigurement hadn’t disgusted him? That he walked away from her for another reason altogether?

“I knew I would never have the strength to resist taking you in my arms again.” His fingers flexed on her bare skin, where the material of the blouse had been pushed to the edge of her shoulder. “If you walked away, if you hated me, that would end our relationship.”

“But why end it?” She knew the answer before he even spoke. “Because of the
Robin Hood
. Because of Yussef and the island. You did not want to involve me in your secret life.” Da—drat it! Would she never prove he was the scoundrel she’d thought him to be?

“I should never have become involved with you. I knew you were more than a dalliance, and I couldn’t afford more. But I couldn’t resist you.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips where his hand had been. Ashley clenched her jaw and willed herself not to give in to the pleasure of his lips on her skin. He seemed to speak the truth, but she had to know if that was all of it. She closed her eyes and forced herself to speak.

“Then it wasn’t my leg? It didn’t disgust you?”

His head jerked up, and when she opened her eyes, his gaze met hers. At least she thought it did. It was too dark for her to see his face clearly. “You? Disgust me? Never.”

She shook her head, backing away from him. He hadn’t seen her leg that night they’d made love so long ago. She had thought she’d been careful not to allow him to see, but then when he’d rejected her it was the only excuse she could think of. She hadn’t known he was a pirate, and she had assumed the reason he’d not wanted her had to do with her. “I have to go,” she whispered, turning to walk back. “I have to think.”

With three strides, he caught her arm. “Don’t walk away from me. You brought me here. Why did you think I ended our relationship? What about your leg?”

So he’d heard that. Damn! Rather, drat! “Nothing.”

She tugged, but he didn’t release her. “Why would I find your leg disgusting?” His free hand traveled up and down her arm. “There’s nothing about you disgusting. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head and tried again to escape him. Tears burned her eyes, and she wanted to escape before they fell and she embarrassed herself by weeping in his presence. “I’m not.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away.

He said nothing for a long moment, obviously surprised at her tears. “Tell me,” he said.

“I can’t.” She shook her head, allowing her hair to fall forward in a sheet, obscuring her face.

“Then show me.”

“No!”

When he reached for her skirts, she frantically pushed them back down. They struggled for a moment, and then he grasped her hands. “Let’s not fight.” He sank down to his knees, taking her with him. “I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I can only say that to me, you are perfect.”

Her head shot up, and she stared at him. “Liar.”

He chuckled. “Very well. As close to perfect as any woman could be. It was dark that first night. I saw far too little of your body.” He pushed her hair back from her face again, his hand lingering on her cheek. “That was my only regret. That I never caught a glimpse of you gloriously naked.”

She inhaled sharply. “There would be nothing glorious about it, I assure you.”

“You will have to allow me to decide that for myself.”

She shook her head, and he caught her chin. “But not tonight. It’s too dark for me to see any more than I did that night. But I can feel.” His hand stroked down her chin, across her shoulder, and along her arm. He dragged down the sleeve of the loose blouse, exposing the swells of her breast. She might have resisted, but her head was swimming with rum and new revelations.

“I can touch.” He bent to her breast. “I can kiss.” His warm lips kissed first one breast and then the other. His hands cupped her waist and slid up to test the weight of her breasts. When his thumb brushed over her extended nipple, she groaned. “Now it’s more than the material rubbing against you,” he murmured. His thumb worked her hard flesh in slow circles. “Are you aching for me? For my skin on your skin? My tongue on your skin?”

“Yes. Please.” His hands were suddenly gone and the bodice followed. And then his hot mouth covered her, replacing the shock of cool air on her skin. His tongue lapped the hard point and suckled her. She thrust into his mouth, and he sucked harder until she felt an answering pull deep in her belly.

He paused to lift his head and remove her blouse. She knelt, naked from the waist up, before him. The night was dark, but the stars were countless and bright enough that she knew he could see something of her body. He sat back, looked at her for a long moment, then reached for her again.

“Not so fast,” she said. “Take off your shirt.”

He grinned at her—at least she assumed he did from the flash of white teeth she saw. “Your wish is my command.” He pulled the shirt from his trousers and tugged it over his head. Tentatively, she reached out and ran a hand over his hard, muscled torso. She could picture his chest in her mind, and her breath quickened. His arms came around her, pulling her against him, so their flesh made delicious contact, and she felt that spot between her legs throb. He felt so good. Touching him like this felt so good.

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently, his hands on her back, making her shiver with his long, languorous strokes. His lips slanted over hers, tasting her, and then he entered her with his tongue, filling her and stroking her. As his kiss grew more passionate, so did his caresses, and soon his hands dipped into the waist of her skirt.

It took her a moment to realize he was slipping it off, and she cried out and pushed back. “No.”

He was breathing hard, but he made no move to grab her back. “What did I do?”

“I can’t—I don’t—” She swallowed. “My skirt stays on.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!”

He was quiet for a long moment, and then his arms came around her again. “Is this about your leg?”

She ducked her head, hoping her silence answered for her. Everything was spinning, and she was so deliciously warm. But she could not forget. She could never forget.

“I see, and I remember now,” he said

She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Remember?” She looked up at him, forgetting she could not see his expression. But she could feel his strong arms around her. She could feel the way he held her, the tension in his body, showing her that he wanted her, that he restrained himself only because she’d asked him to.

“That night. I wanted to lift your skirts and kiss you, but you kept pushing them down. You kept pulling my head back to your lips.”

She remembered as well. She’d been so afraid he would see her burnt flesh and shudder with revulsion. “I think we did very well, even without you kissing my legs.”

He laughed. “I didn’t want to kiss your leg, Ashley. I wanted to kiss you far more intimately.”

“I don’t…” She paused. “But you can’t mean…” She actually felt her cheeks heating as warmth flooded into her face. Thank God for the weak starlight.

“Why don’t I show you, my little innocent?” Gently, he pushed her back on the sand, and she felt its warm, soft texture on the bare skin of her back. She was so intrigued by what he implied, she forgot to resist when he lowered her to her back. But when he tried to lift her skirts, she batted his hand away.

“Ashley,” he whispered, his breath feathering the sensitive skin at her ear. “I promise you will enjoy this. You will beg me to continue.” He inched her skirt higher, exposing her calves. “I will not look at your leg. Even if I did, I can’t see anything.” His mouth lowered to her neck then her breasts. He kissed her slowly, and she felt herself relenting as his hands inched her skirts higher, exposing her.

If he’d touched her leg, if he’d tried to look at it, she would have fought him, but he kept his face turned toward hers. He kissed her breasts then her belly then moved between her legs. “One day I’m going to do this in the daylight, when I can see you.” His hands moved from her hips to the inside of her thighs and she gasped in a breath. His hand stroked her inner thigh gently, and she found herself opening her legs wider. She could not seem to stop herself. It was a wanton act, but she had always liked to think of herself as a little wanton.

His hand came to rest on her core, and the feel of his skin on that sensitive spot made her jump.

“You’re wet for me,” he murmured, sounding pleased. “You want me as much as I want you.” He moved his hand against her, stroking her, and she groaned. “Tell me you want me. I promised myself you would beg me before I touched you again.”

“I want you,” she said, catching her lip between her teeth when he stroked her again. His finger delved between her legs, finding that sensitive spot he’d made such satisfying use of that silent night on the ship. And then before she knew what he was doing, he bent his head and she felt the warm, wetness of his mouth where his finger had been. The feeling was so exquisite that she almost screamed, arching off the sand with pleasure.