As she accepted his offered hand and stood, the bearded man spoke. “Cain! How long has it been? Three years?”
Yanked from his heady awareness of
India
, Cain squinted at the sailor. He wore a thick brace of guns. No less than three pistols hung off his thin frame, their silver muzzles sharp against his black attire. A scar bounced across his right cheek, tugging tight where it blended into his temple. The long black beard had thrown Cain, but he’d never forget that scar—he’d put it there when a childhood game of marbles ended in fisticuffs.
Cain thrust out his hand. “By God, Edward, I thought you’d be dead by now.”
Edward clasped his hand, drew him in for a brotherly hug, and pounded a fist on Cain’s back. Releasing him, he let out a snort. “Can’t kill me. Though Drake be tellin’ me how they tried t’string ye up.” His beady eyes narrowed beneath bushy eyebrows. “Can’t say that be a right frien’ly thing fer Richard t’do.”
“Aye,” Cain agreed as he cast a sideways glance at
India
. This was not the subject he wanted to close the night with.
“I came down here knowin’ ye’d be showin’ yer face. Crossed paths wit’ a lot in
Bermuda
, few weeks back. One o’ them be boastin’ bout dupin’ that Lieutenant Jacobs inta thinkin’ ye’d caught yerself a ship off th’ coast.”
Cain stiffened as did
India
, understanding hitting them both at the same time. Someone who’d been part of Richard’s plot. Alive. Nearby.
Edward patted the pistol
strapped
across his chest. “Made sure tae let
’
im know, I did, what I be thinkin’ of that. But not afore he be squealin’ how Richard be in
France
.” A slow smile crept across his face, revealing a row of crooked teeth. “Thought ye might be wantin’ tae know that piece o’ news.”
France
.
Cain’s pulse bounded. He must know more, but not in front of
India
. The subject was too sensitive, and he was in no mood for the inevitable argument, should he press for details while she stood at his side. He bent to her ear
.
“Collect your pet. I need a moment.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m certain you do.”
To her credit, she walked toward the table they had previously occupied. But the sharp tone of her voice told him
she cared as much for his pursuit of this conversation as she did for his pursuit of Richard.
Cain watched her go. When she stood near his earlier chair, he turned to Edward. Urgency filled his hushed voice. “Did this man say where in
France
?”
Edward’s broad grin held the secrets of the deep. “Har, he did! He be sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout makin’ rounds near
Bordeaux
tae collect
’
is pay.” Laughter gripped him hard, shaking the braided ends of his beard. “Gues
s ye’ll be thar tae collect on ’
is behalf,
aye
?”
Cain glanced over his shoulder at
India
, observing the ashen hue to her expression. They’d need to continue this conversation later. Already they’d said too much. With a subtle incline of his head in her direction, Cain suggested, “Tomorrow then?”
Understanding dimmed Edward’s grin. He stroked his bristly beard, eyes fixed on
India
. “Aye,” he answered slowly. “T’morrow. The
Revenge
be off th’ harbor, fifty yards tae th’ south.” He nodded toward Drake. “
Triton’s Jewel
be pullin’ up starboard when I be rowin’ in.”
Drake’s expedient flight from the tavern left Cain free to excuse himself and collect
India
, along with her expensive pet. Seeking to avoid any discourse on the subject of Richard, he ushered her out of Old Bess’s house and hailed a passing wagon.
When the rickety rig, more appropriate for hauling cargo than persons, pulled to a stop, Cain lifted his eyebrows to
India
. “Do you object?”
“Good heavens, no,” she answered with a laugh. “My feet are raw.”
Cain hefted the lizard inside the wooden bed, then fastened his hands about
India
’s narrow waist and steadied her as she climbed over the short rail. He passed the dark-skinned driver several coins, unconcerned about the fare. “To the harbor please. As far as you can get.”
As the wagon lurched forward, Cain’s head spun. Edward, Drake, and now Alex were all at hand. If he employed the three, and could somehow contact Royce, he might just stand a chance at fending off the French.
351
Bound By Decency
26
W
arm wind stirred
India
’s hair as the one-horse wagon clopped down the cobbled streets. She leaned against Cain’s side, soaking up the heat that radiated from his body and refusing to think about Richard or Cain’s plans for him. She’d tackle that obstacle later. Not tonight, when rum ran in her veins and she felt courageous and free.
She snuggled into his protective embrace. He was warm, comfortable, and strong, a presence that gave her a peculiar sense of safety. She tipped her chin up, admiring the handsome lines of his profile. Firm jaw, slightly crooked nose, long eyelashes. A smile spread from the inside out. “That Edward fellow was a bit fascinating. I can’t recall ever meeting a man who wore his beard in braids.” Or wore so many pistols, but she decided against mentioning that part, in case it prompted more discussion on Richard. “Do you know him well?”
Cain’s fingers roamed across her shoulder and down the length of her arm, a casual brush that left her skin tingling, even with the thin coverlet of her shirt. Her sleeve pulled as his hand skated back to her shoulder. “We were boys together in
Bristol
. Edward Teach.”
India
tucked her head against his chest. His heart thumped steadily beneath her ear. His unique shirt gaped where he hadn’t buttoned it all the way to the neck, and in the moonlight, she glimpsed the smoothness of his bare skin. “Tell me about these odd buttons.”
“They are more functional. You can wear a shirt partway, cool and protect at the same time.”
Pictures of men at various tasks, in particular those who worked the rigging, elaborated on his brief explanation. The way the ropes rubbed at abdomens and scraped shoulders conflicted with the men’s desire to cool their bodies as they worked. For a group of men who cared nothing for propriety, buttons made sense. They made the task of donning or shedding clothes far simpler.
They also made it easier to touch. She lifted her hand and traced the exposed sliver of bronze.
Cain stiffened at her light caress.
“Does that
offend
you?”
“No.”
The hoarse quality of his low whisper was as pleasant as the catch of her hair on his whiskers as he nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head. She almost reached up for him in fierce want to feel his mouth on hers. Only the movement of the driver, reminding her they were not alone
amidst
the song of insects and birds, stayed her hand. But it didn’t still her completely. Her voice dropped to a whisper. She pushed the fabric of his shirt aside and slipped her fingers in
side
to splay her palm over the taut muscle of his chest.
He drew in a sharp breath. His head dipped nearer. The tip of his tongue traced the shell of her ear. “Not here,
India
,” he murmured in a strained voice.
Embolden by the drink, by Drake’s earlier conversation, and the very nearness Cain’s effect had upon her senses, she withdrew to look him in the eyes. “Then where?”
One large hand reached toward her face, and Cain slowly dragged the back of his knuckles along the length of her jaw. With a slight shake of his head, he murmured, “I don’t know.” He gave her a lingering look, his eyes full of something frighteningly close to regret.
Regret
. The very word chilled her to the bone. He didn’t want this thing between them, would exercise the very dregs of his restraint to stop it from occurring. Somehow, last night, something had changed between them.
An inner voice of wisdom spoke words beyond her years. If she didn’t right this between them tonight, it would become too late. Any chance she had of finding the elusive heaven Cain offered would slide between her fingers
,
never to be reclaimed.
The Kraken
rose before
India
’s eyes. Sails furled, three tall masts touching the stars, she bobbed quietly in the night. Shadowy figures moved about her decks, behind small lighted windows on her hull. A high pitched feminine laugh descended from the rail, and
India
looked up to see a sailor swing a maid into his arms. She straddled his waist. And to
India
’s surprise, the unidentifiable seaman sat his lady on the rail and tossed her skirts to her waist.
India
lowered her gaze, feeling a strange mix of excitement and amusement. Tonight she’d witnessed things that would shock her proper
acquaintances
into their graves. Her gaze slid back to the contoured softness of Cain’s mouth.
If he would give her opportunity, tonight she would
do
things that would shock her proper
acquaintances
into their graves. Her stomach freefell at the thought.
The driver jerked hard on his reins, and the horse came to a stop. Cain jumped over the wooden sideboard, reached in for the lizard, and then set it on the ground. He held both hands out, inviting
India
into his arms. She braced her
palms
on his shoulders. He held her waist, firm and secure. Gently, he eased her to the ground in front of him.
When she should have let go, she laced her fingers behind his neck and pressed her body close. Her breasts grazed his chest. One knee slipped between his. She added a little weight to the leg and felt him all the way up to her thigh. Against her hip, his shaft stirred.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
“
India
—”
Rising to her toes, she took advantage of his parted lips and claimed what she wanted. At first his mouth hardened, refusing to participate. But when she nipped at his lower lip and traced the tip of her tongue along the tight seam of his mouth, his fingers bit into her waist. With a groan of resignation, he yielded.
His kiss was thorough and harsh, full of all the pent up desire that flowed between them both. She met the bold foray of his tongue with equal hunger
, c
raving,
needing
, everything he had to offer. Dimly, she heard the wagon roll away. Felt the rush of the breeze against her back as Cain worked the tail of her shirt free to slide his hands beneath.
Rough calluses scraped across her ribs. The pad
s
of his thumbs found the soft underflesh of her breasts.
India
’s world tilted as the scandalous caress stirred that all too familiar ache deep within her soul.
But the magic ended as quickly as it had begun. With effort, Cain tore his mouth away. He breathed as if he’d run through high sand dunes. He set his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed out of her embrace. “You don’t know what you want, or what you’re asking,” he scolded before he picked up her iguana, set one hand in the small of her back, and steered her to the ladder.
“I do,” she blurted out.
He gave her a nudge, forcing her to grab on to the ladder. She climbed a step up.
“You have had too much to drink,
India
.”
Outraged, she stopped to throw a glower over her shoulder. “I may have imbibed, but I assure you, I am well aware of my faculties.” To prove her point, she climbed faster, taking the rungs two at a time until she reached the top, where she vaulted over the edge and landed easily on her feet. Hands fisted at her hips, she waited for his arrival.
The lizard came first, making its appearance over the edge before Cain’s head rose above the rail. He set the cage on the deck, then, as if their argument was as insignificant as a hangnail, he took his time in bringing the rest of himself aboard.
Slowly, he straightened. His blistering gaze betrayed the anger he kept so carefully disguised. “That was a stunt. One which, had you fallen, could have killed you.”
India
threw her hands into the air. “For the love of Mary, it was no stunt!” As her voice rang out over the hushed murmurs of the water and the rumble of voices beneath the decks, the couple on the rail stilled. She summoned her courage, dismissed her fear of impropriety
,
and threw caution to the wind. Truth and honesty. Speak plain, Drake had said.
India
took a deep breath and softened her voice. “Nor was my kiss. Or the way I ache for you.”
The power of her words held a visible effect. In the silver light of the moon, Cain’s eyes flashed with predatory hunger. Slowly, one hand curled into a tight fist and pressed into his thigh. She watched the shallow breath he drew, the way he failed to expel it.
“Cain,” she whispered, “I’ve watched women make their desires known all night. Witnessed the response of men. I don’t understand why you turn away from me, when I know you feel the same longing.”
The breath he held broke free with an audible hiss. He closed his eyes, held them shut for a long moment. When he opened them once more, he swept his hand toward the door to his hall and cabin. “Go,” he instructed quietly.
****
C
ain followed behind
India
, feeling much like someone had bound his ankles with iron balls and dropped him over the rails to plummet to the bottom of the sea. He was so keenly aware of her. So close to casting aside all reason and forgetting why it mattered whether she saw Cain or Teddy, or which man she wanted. It had required a sheer act of will to recall their surroundings and not strip her bare where they stood at the base of
The Kraken’s
ladder.
Now, he must find a way to explain. A way that did not sound either lecturing or self-pitying. She claimed she knew what she wanted, when in truth, the innocent bird couldn’t possibly have any idea what that encompassed.
He unlocked the cabin door, pushed it open to let her in, then closed it behind them. She moved toward the windows, and he crossed to his desk to set the iguana down. Stalling to gather the words he required, he took a few moments to free the beastly creature from its confining cage and feed it. When he turned around, prepared to explain the multitude of reasons they could not indulge in desire, words lodged in his throat.
She stood by the bed, utterly bare, only her long hair cloaking one ivory shoulder and the pert mound of flesh beneath. No trace of embarrassment colored her cheeks. No touch of modesty sent her gaze skittering through the room. She looked him straight in the eye, her shoulders proud and erect, and took a step forward.
He couldn’t move as she closed the distance between them. Couldn’t look away, though he knew he should. He forced himself to breathe, to push past the pain of collapsed lungs and suck in shallow gulps of air through flared nostrils.
India
stopped, the tips of her toes touching his. She caught his hand, and never taking her eyes off his, lifted his palm to her breast. “Make love to me, Cain. That’s what I want. I know no way to be more plain.”
His hand moved against his will, shifting to cup her breast more fully. He squeezed the soft flesh, dragged his thumb across a rosy, pebbled nipple. His throat felt like baked sand, his tongue as thick as wool. In the bleary recesses of his mind, logic rose in hoarse protest. “
India
, I am not Teddy.”
She took a step closer. Nimble fingers plucked open the buttons on his shirt. “I know who you are.” Leaning in, she pressed a hot kiss to the center of his chest. “Cain, who has killed for his own means. Cain who calls thieves and cutthroats friend. Drake. Royce.” Her mouth worked a path of fire to his shoulder, moist lips touching his flesh as she listed off names. “
Jennings
. No doubt Nightshade too.” She nipped the side of his throat, then flicked the tip of her tongue out, the warm caress soothing the sting. “And Blackbeard.”
Surprised, he drew back a fraction. But the bold twinkle behind her eyes as she caught his other hand and brought it to her opposite breast as well, kept him trapped in place. An impish grin turned up the corners of her mouth. “Don’t look so surprised. I made the connection only just now.”
As his heart swelled to painful limits,
India
landed the final, felling blow. She dusted feather
-
light kisses against the corner of his mouth, then leaned back to look him in the eyes. Sincerity glowed fierce, her honesty unmistakable. “They are part of you, as you are part of them. I understand more than you think I do. And I want to be one with
you
. Tonight. In this cabin, where there can be no illusions of finer things.”
His resolve crumbled into pieces. He could not fight this. He’d go mad if he tried. Perhaps he already was. If so, he no longer cared. He gathered her breasts fully, kneaded his fingers into her warm flesh, and tried to ignore the violent tremble that rolled down his spine. Dipping his head, he indulged in the sweetness of her mouth. The heady flavor that was wholly unique and only described as
India
.
Her hands slid between their bodies to finish off the last of his buttons. When his shirt dangled from his shoulders, she arched her back, as hungry for the contact of flesh as he was. He released her to wind his arms around her waist and bring her flush against his body. The meeting of their skin sent a shock of pleasure surging through him. The hollow feeling in his gut grew to painful limits, and his cock swelled so fiercely it became a physical ache.