My Seaswept Heart (28 page)

And her gaze kept sliding toward his.

“I should apologize,” Anne finally said when
the silence became suffocating.

“Why?” He didn’t even glance up.

Anne took a deep breath. “I made it seem this
afternoon as if you... as if I...” Pushing to her feet Anne turned
toward the whisper of the sea. She couldn’t do this. “Never mind.”
Before she could take a step her arm was grabbed from behind and
she was jerked around toward the pirate.

“Ye are going to have to face this sooner or
later, Annie.”

“I don’t know—”

“Don’t be trying to fool me or yourself” His
fingers tightened. “I want ye. I’ve made no secret of it. And I’m
wagering ye want me, too.”

Anne started to deny it, but couldn’t. He was
staring down at her, his eyes intense, and she could barely
breathe.

“I’m not a patient man, Annie. But I won’t be
forcing ye either.”

His hands fell away from her shoulders, and
Anne missed his warmth. He was waiting for her to say something...
anything. When she didn’t he turned and stalked away.

He took the path leading across the island,
and Anne told herself she was glad to have some time alone. She
cleaned up their eating area, then settled down to stare out toward
the sea.

“I’m not used to having someone always
underfoot,” she murmured to herself, then drew her knees up to her
chin. “Now I can think.”

But there was but one thing that filled her
mind.

Jamie MacQuaid.

She was obsessed with him. His smell. His
voice. The feel of his touch. Even his taste was vivid and strong
in her mind. They were alone on a tropical island. Would most
likely stay that way for the rest of their lives.

And he wanted her.

Anne hugged her legs, resting her cheek
against the rough fabric of her breeches. Around her the night
enveloped her like an obsidian cloak, making her feel alone and
lonely. She tilted her head, wondering what he would do if she
followed him. Knowing she wouldn’t.

So she waited, listening for any sound that
might herald his return. But there was nothing except the hypnotic
ebb and flow of the sea and the occasional rattle of palms.

~ ~ ~

Glowing embers were all that was left of the
fire when Jamie returned to the beach. He was foolish to leave. But
he said he wouldn’t force her, and leaving was the only way to
assure that. So he walked and tried to think of something other
than Anne Cornwall. An impossible task.

Now it was late, after midnight by the look
of the stars. Jamie crept to the lean-to, hoping he was tired
enough to lie beside her without dying of frustration.

She wasn’t there.

Jamie’s heart skipped a beat and he
straightened, looking around and wondering where she could be.
Damning himself for selfishly leaving her alone all evening. He
didn’t think at the time that anything could happen to her. But now
that’s all he could think of.

What if she decided to wade into the water
and drowned? Or hell, there could be wild animals on the cay. Just
because he hadn’t seen any didn’t mean none existed.

Jamie paced to the fire, then back, not
knowing exactly what to do. He glanced toward the path. Had she
followed him and gotten lost on the other side of the island? He
took several steps that way, then hesitated and turned toward the
beach.

At first he thought the dark shape was a
piece of coral. Then he recognized Anne, snuggled up on her side.
When he bent down and realized she was sleeping, he let out his
breath.

She looked so small and defenseless, Jamie
had another surge of guilt for leaving her alone. “Poor little
princess,” he whispered as he dropped to his knees by her side. The
moonlight caressed her cheek, the straight line of her nose, and
Jamie forced himself not to do the same.

He leaned forward to scoop her up... and
realized her eyes were open. In the near darkness they studied each
other.

Then she reached up, wrapping her arm around
his neck, and Jamie felt the blood pounding in his ears. “You’re
right,” she whispered.

“About what?”

Anne tugged him closer. “I do want you.”

And oh, how he wanted her.

Jamie swallowed, staring down at her tumble
of curls sugared by the sand, her sweet face, now tight with
desire. Her body was enveloped in the voluminous shirt and rough
breeches, but the sea and his imagination had revealed the
sumptuous beauty beneath.

Oh yes, he wanted. His own breeches were full
and heavy with that need. A need made more urgent by his earlier
fear for her.

He’d wanted and he’d dreamed and he’d waited
for this moment. So why did he hesitate? Why, when she slid her
cool fingers against his burning skin did he pull back?

A pirate took what he wanted, after all.

“Captain?” The question, the uncertainty in
her voice, made him look away.

“Why did you change your mind?” he asked when
she propped herself to sitting.

“Change my...” Anne shook her head, not truly
understanding the question or even why he asked. “I didn’t, not
really. You were right this afternoon. I wanted you then.” Anne
took a deep breath. “You must have known that.”

His only response was to stare at her, stare
at her so boldly, that even in the dim light, Anne could feel the
intensity in those sea-green eyes. She tucked up her legs, hugging
them to her.

When he still said nothing, Anne broke the
silence. “I don’t understand. I thought you... I thought this is
what you desired.”

“It is. It has been since the first time I
saw you.”

Warmth flowed through Anne at his
admission.

“Ye stood before me all cool beauty and
passion for your cause, and you reminded me of...” His voice
drifted off and a wry smile touched his lips. He wouldn’t dwell on
his other life. On the man he used to be. “When I saw you in the
street, when you seduced me, I thought I’d been given a glimpse of
heaven.”

“And I drugged you.”

“I’d have done the same, Annie,” he said with
a bit of his usual aplomb.

“So I don’t understand.”

“Why I haven’t stripped those ridiculous
breeches from your wondrous body by now?”

Anne couldn’t see his expression but she
imagined the cocky lift of his brow, the grin. “Yes, I suppose
that’s what I mean.”

With a grunt he settled onto the sand beside
her. “I don’t know for certain myself.” He laughed then. “Mayhap
the tropical sun has finally fried me brain.” His voice sobered.
“’Tis just that we may be here for a very long time, and I want ye
to be sure. I shouldn’t have wandered off tonight and left ye
alone. Don’t think it was some punishment for rejecting me.”

“You think that’s why I said that I wanted
you? So you wouldn’t leave me alone again?”

Jamie stretched out, elbow bent, chin cupped
in his palm. “It did cross my mind.”

“It’s not the reason.” Anne was glad for the
intimacy of the night. Without its concealing curtain she might not
be able to speak so freely. “I admit to being a bit angry when you
left. But being alone gave me a chance to think.”

“About me?” He sounded almost hopeful and
Anne smiled.

“Yes... and about me. You were right about
the path to the water, and the storage. We don’t need it.”

“
That’s
what ye thought about?”

Anne’s laugh drifted out to sea on a gust of
wind. “Not entirely. I also remembered how you taught me to float
and look at the clouds. I’d never done that before... I never
thought I had time.”

Jamie filtered sand through his fingers and
waited for her to continue. It didn’t take long.

“On Libertia it was important that someone be
in charge of the daily activities. The sugar works. Assigning
duties in the fields.” She shrugged. “Everything. Uncle Richard had
more important things to think about. And Arthur, well, Arthur is
like his father in some ways.”

“So ye did.it all.”

“I’m not complaining. Actually, I enjoy
making certain that everything works well. But it does take a great
deal of time.” Her tone softened. “Thank you for showing me the
clouds.”

“’Twas my pleasure, Mistress Cornwall.”

Anne leaned forward, feeling very bold, but
unable to stop herself. He lay perfectly still as she brushed her
lips across his.

“Have ye thought about the possibility of our
being rescued?”

“Yes.” Her breath mingled with his and though
he tried to seem aloof, Anne could hear the proof that he wasn’t
immune to her in the strained timbre of his voice.

“Next week, hell, tomorrow, a vessel could
come sailing into the bay. And what if ’tis a British ship of the
line? You’d be saved, and I’d be hanged, and ye’d be sorrier than
ye know that ye let me have my way with ye.”

Anne pulled away only enough to see the
glitter of his eyes. To wish she were closer to him. “What you say
is possible, I assume.” Anne sighed. “So perhaps I should have my
way with you instead.” That said Anne pressed against him, wrapping
her arm around his neck and touching her tongue to the seal of his
lips.

He tried, but couldn’t resist such sweet
torture. Jamie’s groan vibrated through his hard chest into hers.
He opened his mouth, kissing her now as he had before, with passion
and wanting and delicious desire.

They rolled together onto the beach, Anne
welcoming the captain’s heavy weight. His tongue thrust deep in her
mouth, the sensation spiraling through her body, pooling heavy and
molten at the juncture of her thighs. She could barely breathe, and
found she didn’t care.

It wasn’t until he pulled away, resting his
forehead on hers that she could suck in a ragged breath. “Oh, my,”
she gasped. “Oh, my.”

“Oh, my, ’tis right.” His own voice was as
raspy as hers.

He flattened his palm over her breast,
shaping it, abrading the sensitive nipple against the rough linen.
And her legs spread, allowing him to slide between. Allowing his
hard maleness to slide over her.

His mouth skimmed over her jaw, biting,
soothing. Anne arched back, giving him greater access to her neck,
loving the feel of his beard, of his mouth on her skin. Everywhere
he touched her she burned.

When the coarse fabric of her shirt blocked
his progress he ignored it, wetting the linen, clamping his mouth
over her nipple.

Anne’s fingers dug into the raw silk of his
hair, holding him to her. Her mind, her body, was swamped with
sensation and she couldn’t stay still. She writhed and whimpered,
wordlessly begging for something she didn’t understand.

Then his hands were at her waist, his long,
clever fingers untying the length of rope holding up her breeches.
Soft island breezes caressed her stomach, the skin covering her
hips as he inched down her pants. When his hand covered the tight
curls guarding her womanhood, Anne gasped with pleasure.

“So pretty,” he murmured. Two fingers slid
through the down, touching, igniting a spark that made Anne cry
out.

“Did I...?”Jamie could barely catch his
breath. And forming words seemed an impossible task. “Are ye
hurt?”

“No.” Anne grabbed for his hand, pressing it
back where it had been. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I will.” Jamie bent down to brush his
whiskered chin across her belly. “The first time, I can’t help it!”
The scent of her body drew him lower. “Oh, Annie.” He drew his
mouth across the smooth skin of her stomach, caught in the spell of
her.

Jamie pulled away long enough to tug off her
breeches, and then his own. Her shirt was next to go, leaving her
naked and wanting as he lowered her gently back to the gritty
sand.

“Ah, Annie,” he said as his palm skimmed down
her body. “I want to be slow with ye, and gentle.” He caught his
breath when she arched into his hand. “But I don’t know that I
can.”

“Then take me as you will.” Anne’s hands rode
the crest of his brawny shoulders as he lowered himself between her
legs. She could feel the heat and power where his hardness throbbed
against her inner thigh. It frightened her. It excited her.

And then it was his mouth inching up as it
had that night when she drugged him. But tonight there was nothing
to stop him and she moaned, deep in her throat when his tongue
found the tight bud of sensation. “Oh, Captain,” she managed, only
to have him lift his head.

“’Tis Jamie,” he rasped, his breath fanning
her tight curls.

“Jamie,” she said, repeating the name until
the exquisite torture made speech impossible. Her breathing came
between exquisite moans and still he tormented, spearing her with a
rhythm that opened a dam of pleasure, bursting forth in wave after
wave. She writhed, unable to keep her thighs from spreading for
him.

Jamie poised above her, allowing himself a
moment of anticipation. She was hot and wet, the tremors still
racking her body. He thrust forward until he met the barrier of her
maidenhood, then arched, impaling her. She stiffened and he
stopped, holding himself on bent arms.