The Raider (14 page)

Slowly, keeping her head steady, she threw back the covers of Alexander's bed. It's a wonder he doesn't sleep under pink satin, she thought.

“Good morning,” Alex called from the doorway.

“It's not good. Alex, I
hate
that coat,” she groaned.

He grinned. “It's new. They're lovers' knots and pineapples. I rather like it. Want something to eat?”

“Where are my boots?”

“Here. Jess, I think you should rest today.”

“Of course I should. Just sleep the afternoon away. How are the children?”

“Eleanor is coping fine. She and I raided the larder and there's more than enough food for them.”

“Taggerts don't—”

“Accept charity, I know. You want some help?”

Jess pulled on the second boot. “I have to go fishing. I have to—” She stopped suddenly because she remembered her ship was no more. “Did they burn her?”

Alex sat beside her on the bed and took one of her hands. “Yes, Jess, they did. I met Admiral Westmoreland—he's quartered himself and ten of his men at the Wentworths'—and I think I've persuaded him that you were never really involved.”

She jerked away from him. “That won't bring back my ship.”

“No, but if you stay away from the Raider, it might help.”

She stood, grabbed her head and stomach to steady them, then glared at him. “What do you understand? All you know is…is lovers' knots and pineapples. For all anyone knows the Raider is dead. He's dead, my ship is burned and I—” She stopped and turned away, but she'd break before she cried before this man who looked like a nest of fireflies.

“Jess…” Alex began, moving closer to her.

“Don't you touch me.” She moved away from him, unlatched the door and left the room. She didn't pause in the common room either, just called, “Come with me, Nathaniel,” as she passed and kept going. She refused to look at the townspeople who stopped and gawked at her. They were afraid of her now, afraid some of the trouble she was in would touch them.

She paused for a moment by the blacksmith shop. Ethan Ledbetter, bare forearms glistening with sweat, his sweaty shirt plastered to his back muscles, was hammering on a hot horseshoe—and Abigail was standing in the shadows, looking at him as a hungry child looked at a Christmas feast.

Hot tears came to Jessica's eyes. Was the reason the Raider hadn't appeared because Ethan now had Abigail?

“Jessie?” Nate said from beside her. “Mr. Alexander is coming.”

“Then we are going,” Jess said angrily and started walking quickly.

She worked herself without stopping for four days. At the end of the first day, Eleanor had given her a piece of her mind.

“You may try to kill yourself if you want, but you're not going to kill Nathaniel.” Eleanor had carried the exhausted child upstairs.

So Jess went out alone. She threw nets into the sea and pulled them back. She nailed together an old pushcart and hawked the fish she caught about town. Many of the people were afraid to buy from her. Her name was tainted now and everyone was afraid of the admiral and his soldiers.

The admiral walked the streets of Warbrooke from early until late. His soldiers jumped at every sound. One of them shot a little girl's puppy when it ran in front of him unexpectedly. The taverns by the wharf were closed.

Warbrooke was a town under military rule.

Three times Jess tried to talk to men about freedom, about protesting what was happening, but no one would listen to her.

At the end of the fourth day, she was at the little cove north of her house. Her hands were raw and blistered; she was cold; she was hungry. She thought of the children at home and she gathered her net for one last cast.

“Jessie.”

At first she thought it was only the wind saying her name.

“Jessie.”

She turned on her heel and looked into the darkness where the land formed a little cliff on one side of the cove. She saw nothing at first, but then out of the darkness came a hand, a hand extended toward her, palm up.

She ran to him.

The Raider held her in his arms so tightly her ribs nearly cracked. “Jessie, Jessie, Jessie,” he whispered over and over, clutching her, his face in her hair.

“You're here. You're all right,” Jess gasped, tears in her eyes and in her voice. “Let me see. Let me see where you were hurt.” Frantically, she began pulling his shirt from his pants, eager to see that he was indeed unharmed.

“Let me help you,” the Raider chuckled as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“I can't see. It's too dark.” She was so near to bursting into tears. She hadn't cried when they'd burned her boat and she hadn't cried when the people had ostracized her, but now she didn't know if she could hold back any longer.

“Then use your hands,” the Raider said softly. “Here, Jessie, I'm not worth crying over.” He pulled away from her long enough to turn his back to her. “The gunpowder sent some rocks flying. Feel the ridges? They're healed now.”

She ran her hands over his strong back, feeling the scars. She remembered all too well that he had received those while protecting her. The flood of tears could not be held back any longer. She buried her face in the skin of his back, mashing her nose against his spine, her mouth open, tears coming in a deluge. Her hands dug into his skin at his waist.

“Jessie, my darling,” he whispered, turning and pulling her to him. “You have more to cry about than anyone. Go ahead and cry.”

“I thought you were dead. Or married.”

“Neither,” he said as he picked her up, then sat with her in his arms, holding her close, her tears wetting his neck, his chest, his back. “I wouldn't marry a silly nit like Abigail. I want only the
best.”

Jessica began to cry harder.

He stroked her hair, caressed her back, then his hand moved down her hip and onto her thighs. “And I certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to let someone talk me into saying I'd slept with her when I hadn't.”

“She loves him,” Jess gasped. “I saw her.”

“You saw Abigail and Ethan, not me.” He began to unbutton her shirt.

“There was blood on my hands. Everyone said you were dead. Alex said you
should
be dead.” Her tears came harder.

“What does he know?” He pulled her shirttail from her pants, then unbuckled her belt. “Why do you spend so much time around him anyway? That coat he had on today isn't good for your eyes. It'll give you squints.”

“It's lovers' knots,” she sobbed. “Did you know they burned my ship?”

“Ah yes, my darling.” He drew her to him and lifted her up as he began sliding the loose, baggy pants over her hips. “There was nothing I could do to stop them. It happened too quickly. I hear you spent the night with Montgomery.”

She pulled away from him, looking into his eyes glistening behind the mask.

“Not
the way you mean. What in the world?!” She gasped in horror as she looked down at herself clad in her chemise, her trousers down to her ankles, and her boots still on her feet.

The Raider practically dropped her upper body on the rocky shore, then in one lightening movement, went to her feet and pulled off her boots and her trousers.

Jessica, sniffing, blinking to clear her eyes, was too astonished to move.

The bare-chested Raider began moving toward her like a panther, on all fours, silkily moving his body over hers.

“Why you—” she gasped, then hit him in the jaw with her right fist. She wasted no time rolling out from under him.

But he caught her ankle and pulled her back to him, pinning her beneath him. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Me?” she gasped. “If you think I'm going to let you touch me you're crazy. You—”

He kissed her.

“If you think I'm—”

He kissed her.

“I never planned—” she said more softly before he kissed her again.

“Jessie,” the Raider whispered against her lips. “You're driving me crazy. I think about you all the time. I love you, don't you know that? I've been in love with you for a long time and I'd make my declarations to you if I could. But I can't go any longer without making love to you.”

“No, I—”

He kissed her again. “You have a choice. We make love tonight on the soft, cool sand or I rape you tonight on the sharp rocks.”

Her eyes widened. “You wouldn't.”

He grinned at her. “I'll love it either way. It's your choice.”

“But…but that's no choice at all.”

“Maybe I'll start with one and end with the other. Although I've heard rape—especially on a virgin, if you are one—is painful. For a woman, that is. Some men, though, find that all that kicking and clawing and scratching spurs them on.”

“Of course I'm a virgin,” she snapped.

“I thought so,” he murmured as he moved his head down to her neck and began to nibble her skin. “Make up your mind yet?”

“A woman should only sleep with the man she's to marry.” Her eyes were closed as his lips began moving down her body.

“Maybe you'll marry me when I'm no longer the Raider.”

“And live where?”

He chuckled as he put his face between her breasts. He untied the laces with his teeth since his hands were holding hers above her head. “You'll live wherever I am. Jessie, Jessie, how beautiful you are.” His tongue was running along the roundness of her breasts. “Have you decided yet?”

“Decided?” Her voice sounded far away. “Yes, I'll live where you do.”

His tongue encircled her nipple. “Is it to be rape or lovemaking?”

She couldn't concentrate. “The church says I must save myself.”

“Ah, then, consider yourself forced.” He released her hands. “Jessie, how much I love you.”

Jessica didn't think anymore as his hands slid inside her underwear and deftly began to remove it. The night air on her skin was an added caress as he removed all her clothing. His hands seemed to be everywhere, running up and down her body, inside her thighs, on her calves. Then her feet were moving on his body, and she found her soft soles touching his bare legs. She could feel the hair on his legs and the coarseness of it felt wonderful, exciting and so different from her own body.

His hands cupped her breasts, kissed her body, his tongue moving down to her navel.

Jessica groaned as he moved on top of her.

When he first entered her, she felt the pain and began to fight him. He held her body and his still, and began to kiss her slowly and lingeringly until she relaxed under him. And when she relaxed, her legs began to open.

“Don't fight me, Jessie, love me.” He nibbled her ear and when he entered her fully, there wasn't as much pain. “I…Jessie, I need you.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I am here.”

After a few swift strokes, trying not to hurt her, he collapsed on top of her, sweaty, limp, sated.

“I love you, Jessie,” he whispered as she caressed his dark hair, feeling the knot of his mask.

For some reason, she did not repeat his words back to him but was silent as she clasped him to her, her legs tightly by his.

As Jessica began to come to her senses, she thought of the enormity of what they had just done. Now she was linked to this stranger for all eternity. She moved her head so that she could look at him and what she saw was a man in a mask. She didn't even know what this man who'd made love to her looked like.

“Mmmm,” he said, studying her look. “Angry at me for having my way with you?”

“Who are you?” she whispered throatily.

“I can't tell you that, sweetheart. I would if I could. Did I hurt you?”

“You're hurting me now,” she said and felt tears welling in her eyes.

He moved off her, then gathered her in his arms and rocked her. “You've been talking to people all week. What about?”

Her tears began to dry as anger replaced her other emotions. “Cowardice.”

“Whose? Theirs or yours or mine?”

“Theirs, of course. I don't believe I'm a coward and I know you aren't.”

He was caressing her bare skin. “Jessie, I want you to put your clothes on. A few more minutes of this and I'll be having you on the rocks again.”

Jessica hesitated.

“No, no.” He smiled. “Virgins need rest between bouts.”

She moved away from him and reached for her clothes. In spite of the lack of light and his mask, she could see his eyes' brightness as he watched. Her first impulse was to cover herself but then she began to feel powerful, as if only she could bring this magnificent man low. She arched her back as she pulled on her undergarments.