He’d never imagined her arm banded across him would feel so right.
As he held her close, Blake’s mind went through the events of the previous night. It wasn’t difficult to remember what had taken place. A headache drummed behind his closed eyes; his stomach smarted where the glass had cut him, and his throat felt as though he’d swallowed sand by the bucketful. He’d expected all of those things.
What he hadn’t planned on was Alicia. He hadn’t planned on liking her. Hell, he’d tried hating her, had, in fact, managed it since he’d heard of her coming to live with his parents. But that all changed when he’d come to know her. He knew by the calluses on her hands and the strength in her arm when she’d made to slap him that she worked hard. She was fiercely loyal and stood up for her beliefs. His feelings about Jacob hadn’t changed, but Blake could appreciate Alicia’s unwavering support of someone who was dear to her.
He wondered what it would take for her to support him that way.
And that, Blake realized, was what was weighing on his mind. She’d slipped beneath his guard, and it wasn’t only because she felt so bloody good in his arms either. He’d come to look forward to having her on deck at the end of the day, so he could share a part of it with her, to see her face fill with wonder when she watched the sunset or the dolphins that frolicked in the wake of the ship. She’d come, in a disturbingly short amount of time, to matter to him.
If only he knew what to do about that.
He dared to open one eye and was rather proud of himself for not whimpering when it felt like someone smacked his head with an oar. Blackness prevailed outside his window; the lack of sound above suggested the majority of the crew had yet to awaken. It would allow him time to think without distraction. Alicia shifted, drew a deep breath, and snuggled in closer. The softness of her breast rested against his side.
This time there was no withholding his whimper.
If regret were gold, the ship’s hold would be bursting with it. Easing from Alicia, Blake tucked the blanket around her. Darkness prevented him from seeing her clearly, which was a blessing. His willpower only went so far.
Buttoning his shirt, he fumbled around the chairs, feeling for his coat. Luckily he remembered where he’d left it, and the ruckus he made kicking aside last night’s debris didn’t last more than a few seconds. The bed creaked and Blake hesitated, but Alicia’s breathing remained even and he knew she’d only rolled over. It would be easy to go back, to slip in beside her and taste her again when his senses weren’t dulled by rum.
He also knew—gauging from their previous reactions to each other—that if he gave in to the temptation of kissing her, it wouldn’t stop there. Because that wasn’t a step he’d take lightly, he shoved his lust aside and went above.
The first thing he noticed was nobody was manning the helm.
“Where the hell is Vincent?” he muttered. By the glow of lanterns, Blake made his way around the cannons, over the rigging lines. The plump moon guided him around to the main hatch. Pale light and Vincent’s whistling poured from the opening. Pots clanged and the smell of tea rose to Blake. Knowing Vincent would be up in a moment with a hot drink in his hands, Blake went to the bow, sat, and leaned against the gunwale.
At that level, even the faintest of breezes vanished. Around him curled the smell of damp wood steeped in sea-water. There wasn’t a smell he loved more.
Except possibly oranges.
His life had been wonderfully uncomplicated the last eight years. Not perfect, he’d admit. There were always trials involved in being at sea—sickness, boredom, fierce storms, and merchant ships who fought lethal battles to keep their wares. And, as Captain had reminded him earlier, he’d had a steady inflow of marriage proposals.
Blake didn’t put much stock in those. When women flocked to him, flaunted their bodies, and whispered in his ear, he chose carefully. He’d steered away from the young ones, often slipping money in their hands even as he declined their invitations. Sure, there were a few who cried a sprinkle of tears over his ability to walk away, but usually within an hour or so he’d see them back among the crowded tables, smiling sweetly as they tried to lure away the coins that jingled in the sailors’ pockets.
If only Alicia had slapped him when he’d kissed her. If only she wasn’t so damn sweet in her innocence. If only he didn’t want her with every breath he took.
He thumped his head against the gunwale. What a damn quandary he was in. He gazed up at the stars, recognized a few constellations, and knew in a handful of days they’d be in St. Kitts. He’d be rid of Alicia. Dammit, shouldn’t it be what he wanted? Yet the thought left him anything but happy.
He didn’t want her to go. And he wasn’t getting anywhere, he realized. Might as well keep Vincent company. He headed for the helm but stopped after a few steps, wondering why Vincent wasn’t singing or whistling. Vincent always made noise when he was alone. Nate figured it was because of all the sisters Vincent had been raised with; he was used to constant racket.
Blake crept steadily to the stern, eyes casting side to side. He missed Vincent completely on the first pass. A second look found his first mate on hands and knees near the hatch that led to the captain’s cabin. Blake stopped momentarily to decipher what exactly Vincent was doing. When he figured it out, he swallowed his curse and strode silently toward his friend, keeping a steady eye on his target. He reached Vincent just as the man seemed ready to lift the hatch.
Blake gave him a firm kick to the backside.
Vincent yelped, jumped, and managed to spin so that he landed on his arse, wide eyes facing Blake.
“Jesus, man, trying to scare ten years off my life?”
“If you’d been steering my ship, I wouldn’t have had to.”
Vincent wobbled his head in agreement.
“Fair enough. Give me a hand?” he asked, extending an arm.
Blake chuckled. “You managed to get yourself down there all by yourself, you can manage to get back up again.”
At the helm, Blake took the compass, double-checked his heading, and satisfied the stars hadn’t lied, left the wheel to watch the sunrise. There wasn’t much to see, just the black of the sky fading into blue.
“I thought you’d be asleep yet,” Vincent said from his side.
“And you had a keen desire to watch me do it?”
“Well,” his friend said slowly, “it was more the sleeping arrangements I was after discovering.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “What you need is a woman. A good strong one, someone who can keep you out of trouble.” He paused, made it appear as though he were thinking. “I know just the woman,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Maybe a quick stop in Barbados is in order once we leave St. Kitts.”
The color drained from Vincent’s face.
“Are you mad? The last time I saw that woman, she almost strangled me!”
Leaning back against the gunwale, Blake crossed his arms over his chest.
“Beatrice was only being affectionate.”
“Affectionate?” Vincent’s voice squeaked. “I was lucky to get away alive.”
“Now you’re exaggerating. She told me herself she wanted to bear your children.”
Blake nearly took pity on the man when Vincent stumbled.
“You head that way and I’ll jump overboard.” Vincent shuddered. “Anything’s better than Beatrice.”
“Keep that thought in mind next time you decide to meddle.” Blake put a hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “Now get some sleep. I’ve got the ship.”
It took Alicia three tries to fasten the last button on her gown. She ran her trembling hands down the front of her bodice, only to discover the buttons weren’t aligned. Chiding herself for being nervous, she began again. She had no reason to tremble; it wouldn’t be the first time Blake had seen her in a dress. However, it would be the first time she’d worn one
for
him.
Alicia fussed with her hair, tying it in various configurations of braids before deciding on a style that swept most of the tresses in a twist that she secured at the nape of her neck. She pinched her cheeks for color, then put her belongings back in her bag and set it underneath the stairs. She’d put the cabin to rights when she’d first awakened, and a quick glance confirmed there was nothing left for her to do below.
She took a deep breath, then another. Blake had kissed her last night. He’d kissed her and held her even after he’d fallen asleep. When she could have slipped away, she’d chosen to stay in his arms. Alicia pressed a hand to her fluttering belly. It was time to see just what he thought of that.
The hatch, like the rest of the ship, was well maintained and barely made a noise when she raised it. She stepped onto the deck and her eyes connected immediately with Blake’s.
He was so handsome. His hair ruffled in the morning breeze, and she had a moment of regret because she had no idea what it felt like. His brown eyes were clear and steadily watched her approach.
“Good morning,” she managed, wishing she knew what was going on in his head. Did he find her pretty? Was he happy to see her? Did he want to kiss her as desperately as she wanted to be kissed?
“You’re awake early.”
The fluttering died. She raised her chin. “I cleaned the cabin and straightened the bed. I didn’t touch any of your effects, I just thought that perhaps—”
“Alicia,” he interrupted, his mouth twitching.
“What?”
“It wasn’t an accusation, only an observation.”
She dropped her hands when she realized she’d placed them on her hips in defiance. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be angry with me this morning.”
“I could say the same thing.”
She smiled. “Yes, I suppose you could.”
“I’m not proud of my behavior last night. I owe you an apology.”
It wasn’t what her heart yearned to hear, but it was a start.
“Are you sorry you kissed me?”
Blake sighed. “Alicia, it’s not that simple.”
“It is to me. Are you sorry?” she asked again, closing the distance between them by one step, then two.
“Stop.” His voice held no conviction.
“We’re alone, we’re both old enough to make our own decisions.” She halted when her shoes touched his boots. “I want you to kiss me again.”
His eyes went molten. “It’s not a good idea.”
“I think it’s a fine idea.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re too young.”
“Do I look young?”
Her blood heated as his gaze glided over her. When it lingered at her breasts, a heaviness settled upon them and the peaks drew hard. She had no doubt, since she hadn’t brought along a corset, that Blake could see them through the thin cotton of her bodice. He muttered a curse and his eyes flew back to hers.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you are.”
“If I were older?”
He ploughed his fingers through his hair, while his eyes once again skimmed over Alicia until her skin burned. Then he trudged to the back of the ship, braced his forearms on the side of the ship, and with his mouth set, stared out to sea.
“You don’t still hate me, do you?”
He scoffed. “No, that would be easy. That’s not the way my life usually goes.”
“Is it my scar?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he growled, looking at her.
“Then kiss me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he rasped.
She slid between him and the side of the ship, knew a sort of victory when he didn’t back up. She had to arch her neck to look in his eyes, but it was worth the effort to see the desire wage a war with his chivalrous nature.
“Actually, I do,” she whispered. “Kiss me, Mr. Privateer.”
Pressing onto her toes, her hands braced on the solid mass of Blake’s chest, she reached for his mouth with her own.
Blake couldn’t have moved if a hurricane blew in. Nothing was as strong as the want—the need—that raged in his blood and drowned out every other sound but that of her breathing. It was essential to his very being that he know the flavor of her mouth again. For the first time since he’d acquired the ship that rocked beneath his feet, something else mattered.
“Alicia.”
Cradling her face in his hands, he gently took what she offered. Last night’s kiss had been hard and fast; he’d been unable to control the need. He wasn’t in a hurry now, Blake thought, his lips moving over hers in a gentle caress. He wanted to savor her. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter than Alicia’s mouth. Her movements were uncertain, definitely not practiced as some women’s were. But it was that innocence that touched Blake. The woman in his arms was precious and he aimed to see she be treated as such.
Her palms swept up his chest, curled into his hair. Blake’s knees trembled when she opened her mouth under his. Desire hummed in his ears. A fog curled in his brain, tried to obscure his logic and reason for not pressing Alicia into the gunwale and ravishing her. If he didn’t slow down, he’d soon be lost in the thick of it. But he couldn’t pull away either. One more taste, he promised himself, and he traced her lips with his tongue. As he moved his hands to the back of her neck, the fog thickened. She was so bloody soft.
“I’m surprised you’re awake. Thought for certain you’d be in bed nursing a dreadful headache.”
Alicia startled, her body stiffened, and she drew back. Blake pressed his forehead to hers, cursed Nate’s timing, while he tried to steady his breathing. Although perhaps it was good that they’d been interrupted as neither he nor Alicia had had the sense to stop.
Blake heard the man’s steps coming closer and knew by Nate’s misstep the moment he realized his captain wasn’t alone. Blake took Alicia’s hands from around his neck, kept one firmly grasped in his, and turned.
Nate grinned like a child given a shiny new coin.
“Ah, now I see,” he said. “Good morning, Alicia.”
Despite the color that rode high on Alicia’s cheeks, she returned Nate’s greeting.
They stood there like idiots until an itchy feeling settled between Blake’s shoulders and the headache he’d forgotten about while holding Alicia resumed its pounding. He pressed a hand to his eye.
“Head hurt?” his first mate asked, his knowing smile telling Blake he already knew the answer. “Why don’t you go below? I promised the lady I’d teach her all about the ship.”