Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] (17 page)

Miranda stood, carelessly brushing aside the few leaves that had managed to stay in her skirt. “I am not!”

Jack stepped closer. “You are.”

Marching up to stand in front of him, close enough so that she could smell the salt water that glistened on his body, she crossed her arms. “I am not.” For someone whose only knowledge of arguments—before she met the pirate—consisted of discussing the merits of scientific theory, Miranda was definitely getting into the spirit.

Jack lowered his head till their noses almost touched. “You are. You’re crazier than a bat, to wander off alone when there are Indians around.”

Miranda raised her chin. “There is no scientific evidence that a bat is crazy.”

Jack only snorted. Leave it to this crazy woman to say something like that.

“And,” Miranda continued. “No one told me there were Indians in the area.”

Taking a deep breath, Jack glared down at her for a moment. What she said was true, still...”You didn’t have to know if you’d just stayed where I put you.”

Miranda’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t something to be put somewhere and expected to just stay like a... like a dog. “I did stay—”

“Ha!” Jack’s laugh was loud and short. “Are you trying to tell me you were sitting on the beach minding your own business and Nafkebee captured you? And before you answer, let me tell you he said he found you on the trail.”

“What I started to say was that I stayed on the beach for a while. Then I decided to take a short walk.”

“Short? We must be a mile from the creek.” Miranda ignored this outburst. “The Indian... what did you say his name was?”

“Nafkebee.”

“Nafkebee,” she repeated. “Anyway, Nafkebee didn’t find me because I wasn’t lost. I was simply minding my own business and he grabbed me.”

“Nafkebee was right.” Jack shook his head. “He said you need someone to watch out for you.” Actually he’d chided Jack for not watching out for his woman. When Jack had vehemently replied that she was
not
his woman, the Indian had merely shrugged in that way he had when he didn’t trust what Jack was saying.

“I do not need someone watching out for me.” Miranda turned on her heel and started back down the path.

“Oh, no?” Jack fell in beside her.

“No!”

“What about what just happened?”

“What did happen?” Miranda stopped and looked up at Jack beneath her lashes. “How come he let me go when he saw you?”

“Nafkebee’s a friend of mine. But you could’ve just as easily been kidnapped by a savage Indian.’

 “You mean like I was kidnapped by you?” Jack had the good grace to look chagrined, but only for a moment. Then his expression hardened, and he cupped her shoulders, turning Miranda toward him. “It’s not the same thing at all.”

“It isn’t? And just why not? It appears the same to me. A pirate steals into my bedroom in the middle of the night and spirits me away to—”

“I’m not going to hurt you, for God’s sake.”

“So you say.” Miranda tossed her head, sending the raven curls that tangled around her shoulders flying. “You tell me all sorts of things, yet I see no evidence of them.”

“Like what?” Except for his little indiscretion in his cabin, Jack felt he’d held to his part of the plan pretty well... at least as well as Miranda would let him.

“Like the messenger who’s to bring my ransom money. I think you made that up.” Miranda tilted her chin. “I think you have no plans to return me to Charles Town.”

“Oh, are you wrong there. We’re leaving tomorrow morning for Charles Town.” God’s blood, the chit didn’t honestly think he wanted to keep her.

“Tomorrow? We are?”

“Aye.”

“But your ship? You couldn’t have finished careening the entire hull.”

“I haven’t.” Jack let go of her and started walking. Why was it that every time he got close to her he felt like pulling her into his arms and kissing her? Especially now. He had more important things to think about like...

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

She stopped again and Jack faced her. “Why are we going back so soon? Did the messenger come with the money?”

Damn, the woman was full of questions. Jack sighed deeply. “No, the ransom didn’t arrive.” He held up his hand. “But there’s been a change of plans. I’m taking you back now and that’s all there is to it.” After what Nafkebee just told him, he wasn’t going to sit around here for another week. Henry would simply have to see that his daughter stayed away from the king’s revenuer. Jack resisted the urge to rub his neck.

“Is it because I wandered off, because if it is —”

“It has nothing to do with that.” Jack raked his fingers back through his hair. “Listen, I thought getting back to Charles Town was what you wanted.”

“It was... I mean it is. It’s just that—”

 “Then, no arguments.”

Miranda lowered her eyes at his loud demand. “I just don’t understand.”

“God’s blood, woman, it isn’t necessary for you to understand everything.” Her face lost its color, and she stared up at him with large, deep blue eyes. Jack groaned. As angry as he’d been with her before when he didn’t know where she was, he didn’t want to upset her.

“Hell.” Jack groaned again and turned away only to twist back. “Part of the reason I think it’s better to take you back now is this.” He waved his hand between them.

“What?” Miranda was perplexed. He wasn’t acting like the arrogant pirate now

“This,” Jack stated louder. “This thing between us. This... attraction.” He rubbed his hands down over his face. “God, don’t tell me I’m the only one that feels it.”

Miranda bit her thumbnail, then shook her head. “No. You’re not the only one.”

Jack laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know whether that makes me feel better or worse.”

Lowering her eyes, Miranda looked away. “I don’t understand it.”

Jack laughed again. Leave it to Miranda Chadwick to need an explanation. “It’s not that complex. I’m a man and you’re a woman.”

“Oh.” Miranda’s brows furrowed as she thought about his words. “That’s all there is to it?”

Jack shrugged. “More or less.” He searched for words to explain it. “It’s lust I suppose.”

 “You mean the desire to fornicate?”

Jack’s mouth dropped open. “Aye. You could call it that.” Would she never cease to amaze him?

“I understand about the human need to reproduce. It really doesn’t differ that much from animals such as —”

“God’s blood, what are you talking about, woman? I’ve no desire to reproduce. I simply meant—”

“Do you feel this way about all women?”

“What way?” She was the most exasperating person.

“Do you have this desire to for—”

“No, don’t repeat yourself.” He rubbed at his chin. “No... I mean yes. Not all,” he finally admitted. “But a goodly number.”

“I see.”

“Well, I am a pirate.”

“Yes, of course.”

God, was he making excuses for himself for enjoying other women? She didn’t appear pleased by the idea, but what did she expect? But in truth, Jack admitted to himself, he never had felt exactly this way. Was it because Miranda was beyond his reach? There could be no other explanation. The women who usually attracted him were of a different ilk than Miranda Chadwick. They understood the allure of a small flirtation. They not only wanted him as frantically as he wanted them; they were willing and able to do something about it.

“I do understand,” she said more for her own benefit than his. Miranda couldn’t help it. It was illogical and totally irrational, but she didn’t like the idea of his desiring other women. She’d certainly never felt anything like this for any other man. But perhaps it was because the only men she was ever around were older, and it was their minds she admired, not the way moisture glistened on the bronze of their skin. Or the way the gold ring in his ear tangled with his equally golden hair. Miranda swallowed and tried to glance down, but his finger caught under her chin. Again her eyes met his.

“You understand what?”

His touch made her so warm she almost lost her train of thought. “About reproduction and forni—”

“How do you know about that?” Until they started this foolish discussion, Jack would have bet his share of the
Sea Hawk’s
booty that she was completely naive and innocent. But now...

Her eyes widened. “Why, I’ve read about it, of course. And then there was van Leeuwenhoek’s discovery.”

Jack groaned. “I don’t want to hear about it.”

 “As you wish, but it’s very interesting.”

“I’m sure ‘tis.” Jack had never had a stranger conversation with anyone. He could hardly credit that they were standing in the middle of a footpath talking about making love in the most unromantic way he could imagine... and it was making him desire her all the more. “We need to get back to the ship.”

“I suppose so.”

“Aye, that’s what we should do.” He was saying the words, but Lord help him, his feet hadn’t moved one inch along the sandy trail. “Now that we both understand this thing between us, we can manage it with no trouble.”

Miranda didn’t think she understood anything. The way she felt had naught in common with the descriptions of reproduction she’d read. The pirate’s finger slid off her chin to caress a trail down her neck, and Miranda’s breath caught.

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.” Jack didn’t mean to say the words; they were simply out of his mouth before he could stop them. But she was studying him with languid blue eyes that made him want to forget everything but taking her in his arms.

“I was just wondering...”

“Wondering what?”

She swayed toward him, and Jack caught her shoulders in his hands.

“Well, since we can handle this so well, perhaps we could... I mean, do you suppose you could kiss me like you did before? Simply as an experiment,” Miranda added because she feared she was acting very bold.

“One kiss shouldn’t hurt.” Jack bent toward her.

“No,” Miranda said in all seriousness. “I don’t think it will.”

The touch of their lips was explosive. One moment, Miranda’s mind was attuned to documenting the experience; the next she couldn’t think at all. It was as, if her whole being was engulfed in a tidal wave of sensation.

The world smelled of him, musky and male. His taste overwhelmed her, drove her to want more. And the feel of him, hard and hot against her body as he crushed her in his arms, made her burrow deeper into his embrace.

Her fingers dug into the coiled muscles of his shoulders, then up to tangle in his golden hair. And all the while the kiss deepened, drowning her in its drugging power. His tongue thrust, first possessively deep, then shallow and taunting. But always in rhythm with the blood pulsating through her veins.

As his lips left hers Miranda sighed in disappointment, but the sound was quickly drowned out by her shivering moan. His mouth wet a path down her neck, a soft counterpoint to the rasp of his chin across her flesh.

She arched, trembling when he continued his foray to the pulse at the hollow of her throat. Her body ached, burned to feel more of him. The hands cupping her head slid down to press her closer. And his mouth roamed lower.

He nudged her bodice, making her wish herself rid of the cumbersome cloth separating them. But the fabric did not stop him. His greedy mouth nuzzled deep between her breasts, then clamped first on one taut nipple, then the other. He wet her through the gown, through the shift, as Miranda’s head fell back.

Her groan as he bit down on her nipple sounded sensual in her ears. He yanked her against him, grinding his hips and making Miranda’s mouth go dry. All her fluid seemed to well in one place, and the spot at the apex of her legs throbbed as he rubbed his hardness against her.

She neither knew nor cared how he managed to unhook her gown, but suddenly her flesh was free. The warm, humid air whispered across her naked skin heralding his hot mouth. He devoured first one delicacy, then the next, suckling and soothing, tightening the spring of desire that engulfed her.

His tongue was like a flame, igniting her passions. As the gown caught on her upper arms, Miranda fought to free her arms, jealous of the time spent unable to run her hands over the ridges and valleys of his muscled chest. Touching him, his sleek, smooth skin was such a wonder.

Her gown skimmed lower, nudged on by his impatient fingers. And each bit of new skin he discovered received the lavish attention of his burning kisses.

Jack peeled the petticoat away and sank to his knees on the sandy path. Her skin was pale and soft, sweet to the taste, and he couldn’t stop feasting on her, skimming the slight ridge of her hip bone, exploring the indentation of her navel.

His hands clamped over her buttocks, squeezing, kneading, caressing. Drifting lower till his fingers stroked the flames of need between her thighs. Moist heat greeted him, and he moaned, burying his face in the tight raven curls guarding her womanhood.

Miranda cried out when his tongue touched her. She shivered, slipping softly to the sand, her limbs no longer able to support her. His mouth never stopped loving her. Sand warmed her back as she twisted and writhed, grasping at his brawny shoulders to press him nearer.

His tongue ravished her again and again, forcing small whimpers, of pleasure from her parted lips. Lifting his head, Jack slipped his finger into the moist haven, leaving it reluctantly to fumble with the buttons of his breeches. His breathing was shallow, his body slick from sweat as he slid up her body. His mouth fused with hers, open and hungry, as with one plundering thrust, he entered her.

Pain stabbed through her, sharp and bittersweet. Miranda gasped, but the pirate gave her no time to think of anything but the wild wonder of his body joining hers. Her body stretched, accepted, reveled in the feel of him, hard and huge inside her.

He grasped her buttocks, driving himself deeper and deeper, stronger and stronger. Miranda arched, meeting his thrust with lusty abandon. Her legs, still encased in cotton stockings, instinctively wrapped around his lean waist as their movements became more frenzied.

She clutched at him savagely, grasping his shoulders in her small hands and gasping for breath as her world began to tilt. What started in the heart of her womanhood, spread over her entire being, tightening her breasts, and washing her in wave after wave of inconceivable pleasure.