My Seaswept Heart (16 page)

“Ye make a decent cabin boy,” Jamie said,
deliberately misunderstanding her.

“I mean about letting me stay aboard till you
find d’Porteau.” Her tone lost its accommodating edge.

“Ah, that.” Jamie stretched his arms high
above his head and yawned. “Perhaps I should think on it tonight.”
With that he stood, removed his shirt, reached for his breeches and
thought better of it, then crawled beneath the sheets.

And Anne was left standing in the dark,
holding his boots and wondering where she was supposed to sleep.
Asking him didn’t seem a good idea. For one thing she was trying
not to cause any trouble. For another he was already snoring. But
at least he said he’d think about letting her stay on board.
Thinking of that made the floor seem a little softer as she lay
down.

By morning it seemed almost comfortable.

Anne sighed and burrowed her body deeper into
the softness, her eyes popping open when she remembered there was
no way the deck could be soft.

She was in the bunk, thankfully alone,
nestled between the clean sheets she found yesterday in one of the
captain’s sea chests. Her head resting on the pillow she discovered
amidst a pile of dirty clothes. Yawning, Anne glanced about.

Sunlight poured through the windows,
splashing across the cabin’s shabby furnishings. There were no dark
corners this morn. There was also no Captain MacQuaid. It appeared
she would have to wait for his answer about keeping her with
him.

Unless, he already made the decision and was
heading back toward San Palma. Anne climbed out of the bunk slowly,
wondering when the captain put her there, and went to the window.
But try as she might, there was no way she could see the sun to
figure which way they were heading.

When she turned back toward the room, she
noticed something she’d missed before. On the desk was a wooden
trencher piled high with a rice and fish mixture. Beside it was a
pewter mug of rum. Without even considering it might be the
captain’s breakfast, Anne scraped the cabin’s only chair to the
desk and scooped up a bite.

She’d cleaned the plate, washing the sticky
concoction down with the rum when the door opened. Realizing she
forgot to yank the hat over her curls, Anne jumped up and dove for
the bunk. The captain’s voice stopped her.

“’Tis no need to worry. I’m privy to your
deception, remember?”

Anne just sent him a fulminating look over
her shoulder, that changed to a smile when she recalled her new
strategy. “I wasn’t certain it was you. And I wouldn’t want to do
anything to jeopardize your position on your ship.”

“How thoughtful.” Jamie glanced at the empty
platter, then back at Anne. She not only was without her hat, but
her jacket was missing, draped over the back of the chair. Without
its thick, camouflaging folds, there was no doubt of her sex. The
shirt was loose, but threadbare. Beneath it she wore none of the
female trappings. Her breasts were small, but standing in profile
as she was, with the windows behind her, obviously womanly.

And he could recall their taste.

Jamie started flipping through the rolled
pile of charts to get his mind going in another direction, hoping
the stirring in his loins would subside. He found what he was
looking for, and admittedly it took him less time than usual thanks
to her arrangement, then turned to leave.

“By the by,” he said when his hand rested on
the door latch. “We should reach New Providence by tomorrow
morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Anne whirled around. “But I
thought... You said...” He faced her, that cat-ate-the-cream grin
on his face, and Anne lost her temper. Hands fisted she propelled
herself toward him, striking first his chest then flailing for his
chin.

“Ouch! Damnit, Annie. Watch where you’re
hitting.”

He clutched her shoulders, making it
difficult for her to aim high. So she aimed low. “You scoundrel.
Rogue. Pirate!” Anne couldn’t think of enough bad names to call
him. She also could barely catch her breath. Rather than try to
hold her away, the captain opted to draw her against him, pinning
her arms to her side and her body to his.

She blew a tangle of curls from her eyes and
glared at him. “You never were considering taking me with you,” she
accused.”

Jamie shifted her away from his manhood, only
to have her body slip back into the
V
between his legs.
“You’re damn right I’m not keeping ye aboard. ’Tis what I said
since discovering ye.”

“But you led me to believe—”

“Ye were so busy trying to smother me with
attention, ye weren’t paying any mind to what I said. Did ye think
I couldn’t see through your ruse, Annie?” Jamie tightened his grip.
“Did ye?”

Anne’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“I don’t know.” She lifted her lashes, staring up at him, her eyes
serious. “But you don’t understand. I have to be there when you
find his ship.”

“Why, Annie? Why is it so important to ye?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I told ye I’d search for
him, and I will.”

She couldn’t tell him the jewels promised him
were in d’Porteau’s possession, not her own. No more than she could
explain the guilt she felt over her cousin’s kidnapping. All she
could do was slowly shake her head.

“’Tis not as bad as all that, Annie, girl.
Once home on Libertia ye can take a good soak, then sit in the
shade and wait for me to bring ye d’Porteau’s head.” Jamie grinned
when her gaze flashed to meet his. “’Tis but a manner of speech.
I’ve no intention of severing his head for ye. But I will bring ye
proof of his demise, and your cousin, be he—”

“Still alive?” Anne finished for him. “Of
course, I’ve considered the possibility that d’Porteau killed him.
And what that would do to Uncle Richard.”

“Be that the case, and I’m not thinking ’tis,
your uncle needs ye all the more safe and sound with him.”

Anne smiled sadly. “I suppose you’re
right.”

“Of course I am.” Jamie was trying to be
understanding, but it was difficult with her firm little body
pressed against his. He wondered if she realized the effect she had
on him. He supposed he should let her go. She seemed over her
temper.

But Jamie was having a difficult time getting
his arms to obey his mind’s commands. Even his hands seemed to have
a will of their own as they began rubbing the small of her
back.

“What are you doing?” Anne tried to fight the
heat flooding through her.

“What?”

“That.” Wriggling away from his hands only
plastered her more tightly to his hard chest and even harder lower
body. “Stop it.” Anne’s upper arms were trapped in his embrace, but
she could bend them at the elbows. She touched his hips to push him
away and realized she wasn’t.

His skin, through the nanskin breeches was
hot and erotic. Her fingers flexed.

“Annie. Look at me, Annie.”

She couldn’t seem to stop herself from
lifting her face. He was smiling but it wasn’t the devilish grin
she was accustomed to. This smile was warm and seductive.

He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, using
his thumb to wipe away a streak of dirt. “Ye can’t hide your beauty
from me, Annie. Not even with tar and oil.”

As he slowly lowered his head Anne realized
she was no longer his captive. Nothing but the slight pressure of
his fingers caressing her face held her to him.

But there was more than one way to conquer.
And the pirate, Jamie MacQuaid, ravisher of the Caribbean, was an
expert in such matters.

His prismed eyes, so reminiscent of the sea
itself, beguiled, seemed to suck you deep into their vortex. They
summoned, challenged you to resist. And if you failed they promised
all manner of erotic delights awaited.

Anne was no match for him.

Innocence rarely was.

Her heart pounded, a rhythmic beat that
escalated as his head lowered toward hers. His scent was wild and
free. His touch gentle. A most seductive tangle.

Anne’s lips opened in welcome, greeting his
in the age-old voice of surrender. Yet from defeat came sweet
victory. Anne relished the firm mastery of his mouth. The
conquering expertise of his tongue. Her head fell back and her arms
reached up, encircling his strong neck, digging her fingers into
the savage curls.

And all the while her body throbbed. Pressed
to his, the heat first seeped, then exploded inside her till she
writhed against him. The fasteners on her shirt lost their fragile
hold.

When his hands cupped her bottom lifting her
against his hardness, Anne knew instinctively ’twas what she needed
to assuage the ache deep within her. She clutched at his shoulders,
her fingers still tangled in the raw silk of his hair. She
whimpered when his lips left hers. Cried out when that magical
mouth clamped over her breast. Fire shot through her and she arched
back to give him greater access.

Her nipples peaked painfully, their only
relief coming with the carnal massage of his tongue. He nibbled. He
suckled. And Anne thought she might lose her mind, if she didn’t
burn to a cinder first.

And then it was gone. All the heat and power.
She stood on wobbly knees swaying toward him, wanting what had been
taken from her so suddenly. Slowly she opened her eyes, to be
greeted by the insufferable grin. Though this time it didn’t seem
as steady as usual. And it didn’t reach his eyes. They stared at
her with a mixture of passion and disdain.

“’Tis tempting,” he said, his voice a husky
timbre.

“Tempting?” His meaning was lost in the smoky
fog of her brain. Anne looked up, her expression full of question.
She was beyond tempted.

“Aye.” His jaw tightened. “But ’tis already
promised me if ye recall. And a bargain is a bargain.” He took a
deep breath. “Even when made to naught but a pirate.”

“I don’t...” She was going to say understand,
but unfortunately she was beginning to. At least with the distance
he’d put between them her thought processes had returned. Along
with a healthy dose of embarrassment and shame. Which only
intensified with his next words.

“I appreciate how eager ye are to stay
aboard.” Jamie’s gaze flicked down over her body, the rose-tipped
breasts still damp from his mouth, the flush that slowly spread to
pinken her neck and cheeks. “But this will not change my mind.”

When he turned to leave Anne could do naught
but stand as if her feet were rooted to the wide-planked decking.
Temper flushed away all remnants of desire, all thoughts of
self-reproach. She advanced on him not with punches and slaps,
which he’d proved had no effect on him, but with words.

“’Tis a bargain I shall never keep.”

The quirk of his brow when he twisted his
head to look at her spoke volumes. “We shall see, Annie. We shall
see.”

The door shut behind him. Though not slammed
or even closed with excess force, the sound seemed to reverberate
through her head. Slowly, for all the energy seemed to have drained
from her body, Anne lifted her hands and began rebuttoning her
shirt. When the first bit of moisture dampened her fingers she was
perplexed. It wasn’t until she reached up, tentatively touching her
cheek that she realized she was crying.

It had been so many years since she allowed
the tears to fall. Not since the sudden death of her parents when
she was eleven. They had been festive, happy people, more childlike
than their serious daughter ever was. Her father, the younger son
of a marquis, married the love of his life, the beautiful
enchantress Sophia, or so he had called her till his dying day. My
beautiful enchantress.

Anne smiled now at the memory as she scrubbed
knuckles across her cheek. Her mother was beautiful, blond, and
willowy with blue eyes that rivaled the summer sky and a smile that
lit up her husband’s heart.

Her father had adored his wife, buying her
jewels and gowns... spending more than they could afford. Anne
sobbed, wishing she could stop these foolish tears. Wondering why
now, after all these years she wept for her parents.

Or was it for herself?

The thought made Anne stiffen. It had come
unbidden and unwanted into her mind, and she tried to push it
aside. Gulping in a breath she grabbed up a shirt littering the
floor and wiped at her face. Never one to give in to
self-absorption, she wasn’t about to begin now.

There was too much else to worry about.
Besides, as soon as d’Porteau was found and her cousin returned to
Libertia everything would be as it should. Her uncle would snap out
of his despondency, or at least improve, Arthur could continue...
being Arthur. And she would take care of things as she always
had.

The pirate had given her a setback, but only
a temporary one. She would find a way. She always did. With a
determination she didn’t quite feel, Anne wiped the shirt across
her face, smearing it with grime. But there were no new tears.