Sea Panther (Crimson Storm) (23 page)

The redheaded pirate had attacked Robert’s ship, raising the
skull and crossbones along with the red flag, declaring a battle to the death.
Robert had turned tail and run, not wanting to endanger his men or the precious
cargo. LaRoux stayed on him. The ensuing battle turned fierce, until a lucky
cannon strike hit the powder reserves in the hull of LaRoux’s ship and it
exploded into toothpicks. They’d found no survivors. LaRoux escaped before the
blast. The man held a grudge and a burning desire for vengeance.

The paneled doors swung open, ending Robert’s reminiscing.
The butler called the men to join the ladies for the evening meal, thus
concluding the savage talk of depredations and plundering and robberies at the
hands of pirates.

Robert entered the hall and suffered the sensation of being
gut-punched.

The young man to his right snickered. “I see this is your
first glimpse of our delicious new belle, Mistress—”

“My God!” Robert rushed forward, but stopped short. Her eyes
went wide and her beloved features marred with confusion.

“Do you know me, sir?” The familiar voice trembled.

His Excellency laid a hand on Robert’s arm. “Do you ken the
lass, MacLachlan?”

The hopeful expression Kimberly wore cut Robert to the core.
He didn’t want to deny her, but needed to understand their situation better
before revealing himself or exposing her.

“My apologies, Mistress. I thought you were someone else.”

His chest tightened with the disappointment clouding her
melted chocolate eyes. Eyes, he missed gazing into. Damn, their journey in time
had gone afoul.

What had their time traveling set into motion? He hoped she
wouldn’t say or do anything foolish that would indict her as a witch.

“I’m afraid I’ve had an unfortunate accident, sir.” A
haunted gaze settled on His Excellency’s wife, Lady Anne.

The petite woman put a protective arm around Kimberly’s
waist and smiled at Robert. “Mistress Kimberly was thrown into the sea and
washed up on our beach where several of our workers found her. She cannot
remember how she came to be here, or from where she came. Nor can she remember
a family name. We hoped you might know her.”

Robert inclined his head politely. “I am verra sorry,
Mistress Kimberly. From a distance, you reminded me of someone I once kenned.
On closer inspection, I see I was mistaken. You are far more beautiful.” He
reached for her gloved hand. “Now that we have met…” He kissed the air above
the fingers. “I hope in the future you will consider me as your champion.”

Kimberly blushed, lowering her head as she withdrew the
hand. “Thank you, sir. You are too kind.”

When she raised her gaze, Robert experienced that familiar
ache in his heart. He had to make things right.

During dinner, it was impossible to keep his gaze from
drifting to Kimberly. God had designed her body to wear the costume of the time
and lure men to their untimely demise like mermaids in seagoing myths.

Her rose-colored gown was more than fetching. Not that he
minded the pants or shorts or short skirts, or the colorful blouses she usually
wore. But damn, the way the silk of the gown hugged her curves and plunged low
at her breast with a crimped frill was sinfully decadent, yet she exuded a hint
of innocence with her hair piled atop her head in glistening brown curls,
pleasantly devoid of the smelly powder most women wore.

He shifted in his seat and clenched a fist under the table.
If the cad to her right didn’t remove his gaze from her bosom soon, there would
be one more eunuch limping through its life.

“Captain MacLachlan, are you enjoying the swan?”

Robert inhaled a deep breath and forced a civil smile for
the blond chit sitting beside him.

“Aye, that I am, lass.” Though it was the beautiful swan
across the table he enjoyed, not the meat on his plate.

His dinner partner chattered on disclosing inconsequential
gossip about the planters and merchants who made Jamaica home. Bored beyond
endurance, Robert returned his gaze to Kimberly, and she blushed. Thank the
good Lord. She was still attracted to him.

How would he survive the rest of the damn meal? Watching her
made his breeches tight. He shifted uncomfortably and forced a smile at
something his dinner partner said. Finally, the men rose from the table to
retire to the library to smoke and drink brandy. Robert lazily followed. When
he passed Kimberly’s chair he nonchalantly leaned in.

“Dance with me later,” he whispered near her ear.

She gave a quick nod, and he watched a blush creep up her
lovely neck.

Before Robert left the room, he noticed a speculative
expression sweep across Lady Anne’s gracious features. Did he have an ally?

* * *

Heat flashed across Kimberly’s chest. Man, she wanted to
grab him, curl up into his body and stay there. Like the others, Robert
believed she had amnesia. If she weren’t scared, she’d tease him for a while,
letting him continue to believe she didn’t remember him.

It wasn’t the terrified-out-of-her-mind kind of scared.
Kimberly knew she wasn’t in danger of physical harm. Her fear was more of the
holy-shit-what’s-coming-at-me-next kind of scared. She desperately needed to
feel Robert’s arms around her. Have him assure her everything would be all
right. When they danced later, she would tell him the truth.

Kimberly never had the chance to pretend she was a ship’s
cabin boy as they’d planned. She fabricated a believable story after she awoke
naked in bed at the governor’s home and learned Lady Anne had already
discovered her gender. The lost memory story popped into her head when Anne
explained how slaves found her unconscious on the beach, wrapped her in cloth
and delivered her to an aide of the governor.

Not only did faking amnesia explain why she didn’t know how
she ended up in the ocean, but she could also blame it for a lack of knowledge
of the cultural mores of the time.

Her skin prickled and she glanced up. Lady Anne stared at
her, an assessing glimmer in intelligent gray eyes. Kimberly bit her lip. Maybe
she wasn’t a very good actress.

“Ladies, shall we retire to the ballroom and wait for the
men to tire of discussing business and politics and join us?” Lady Anne
gracefully rose while a servant held out her chair.

“If we wait until then, we will never see the men again,”
Lady Strafford quipped, flicking a fan open as she, too, displayed inbred poise
while rising from her chair.

The younger women giggled behind the flash of their
bejeweled fans.

Kimberly worried her bottom lip. She wasn’t comfortable with
the period gown or shoes or accessories. Though thankfully, when the servant
slid her chair back, she managed to stand and follow the others from the dining
room without falling on her ass and causing an embarrassing scene.

As a kid, she’d loved to play dress up. But trying to act
the part of a genteel early eighteenth century lady seemed far beyond her
acting ability. These women made it an art.

She perched on the edge of an ornate sofa, hoping to be left
alone. Unfortunately, the young woman with the tight powdered blond curls who’d
been partnered with Robert during dinner joined her in a quiver of silk cloth.

“Mistress, Kimberly, I ken I am being forward, not waiting
for an introduction, but I wanted to meet you after hearing about your
situation. Must be harrowing, not kenning who you are. Oh, I should introduce
myself. I am Jane, daughter of Lord Chalmers.

Kimberly swallowed. How had Lady Anne instructed her to
address a Lord’s daughter? Oh, what the hell. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Is it true? You dinnae ken where you came from or who your
father is?”

“Not at the moment.” The irony of the situation brought a
half-smile to Kimberly’s lips.

“Captain MacLachlan is taken with you,” Jane said as she
settled in. “He watched you all during dinner.”

“I don’t think—”

“You have only been here a couple of days and you have
already captured the interest of the only eligible bachelor on the island worth
pursuing.” Plump lips produced the most precious pout. “My father will be
annoyed with me. He wanted me to catch the captain’s eye.”

“Why?” The word flew out of Kimberly’s mouth before she
could stop it.

“For a match, silly. Father had hoped for a joining of our
clans.” Jane spread the skirt of her ice blue gown out to drape around her as
if she were getting ready to have a picture taken. “Dinnae worry, I will not
compete with you. The others will try to gain his attentions, but I promise I
will remain your friend. Captain MacLachlan is too dark and dangerous for me. I
want to marry a sweet man with a poetic heart.”

“How lovely.”

“Scandalous, actually.”

Kimberly’s expression must have given away her confusion
because the twit felt the need to explain. “Captain MacLachlan, I mean. He
never wears a wig or powders his hair. Disgraceful. Oh, I am sorry, you dinnae
powder yours either.”

“I’m allergic. Makes me sneeze.”

The young woman wrinkled her nose then leaned in close, blue
eyes glistening.

“I should not tell you this.” She glanced at the other
ladies who were absorbed in coy conversations.

Kimberly smiled fully. Of course, the simpering fool would
tell her what she didn’t care to know. She pretended interest.

“I should not even know about the place, but there is an
alcove in the garden behind the house designed for lovers,” Jane whispered from
behind the ivory and blue silk fan she expertly fluttered for effect. Then she
proceeded to describe the garden and explain how to find the secluded niche.

God, these women flirted. With the way they acted, it didn’t
matter whether the men joined them. The women seemed more intent on impressing
each other than attracting a man.

The doors opened and three men entered carrying musical
instruments. After tuning the strings, they started to play. Shortly afterward,
the male guests filed into the room. Kimberly searched for Robert, but he
wasn’t with them nor was the governor.

Couples danced in a country style. She remembered seeing
similar dance steps when attending a dance demonstration at a Scottish festival
at Old Westbury Gardens in Long Island while visiting friends of her father.
She started tapping a high-heeled, slippered foot to the music and an awkward
uneasiness settled in, making her feel a bit like a wallflower as she had in
grammar school when no boys asked her to dance.

Then she caught the eye of the gentleman who’d sat next to
her at dinner. Just great. The conceited jerk would probably ask her to dance.
She glanced around nervously, planning to escape before he approached.

She rose to flee and almost ran smack into Robert’s broad
chest. She’d been so intent on watching the dancers and then her dinner partner’s
approach she hadn’t seen Robert walk up from the side. Thankfully, he grasped
an elbow, steadying her, keeping her from falling.

After releasing her, Robert bowed. “Will you honor me with
this dance, Mistress Kimberly?”

She bobbed her head and allowed him to escort her to the
floor, positive she was making a big mistake. How would she dance in the heavy
long skirt? She could hardly walk without fear of tripping. However, after he
bowed and she curtsied, she quickly picked up the steps as the movements resembled
line dancing, and the skirts flowed with her as she swirled. They merged and
stepped with the other dancers, separating and coming back together.

He looked marvelous in the period clothing. The high collar
of the forest green velvet coat and the ivory cloth at his throat set off a
dark tan, making him appear more handsome than ever. He smiled. Oh, my. He no
longer had a scar across his cheek. The tawny long hair pulled back in a
queue—that would make any modern woman envious—enhanced the now smooth skin of
his face. Her stomach did a little hop.

Their fingers briefly touched. A thrill tingled along
Kimberly’s arm. Her breath caught as their gazes met. She couldn’t hold the
contact. The concern evident in Robert’s eyes made her feel guilty for the charade,
but she’d explain things as soon as they had a moment alone.

She noticed Lady Anne standing beyond the dancers, speaking
with her husband. Kimberly swallowed awkwardly, hating she’d deceived the sweet
woman.

Robert danced off as they changed partners again. Kimberly
laughed, amazed she hadn’t tripped over her skirts. The stress from days of
worrying and fearing for Robert slipped away and she smiled at him when the
steps brought the dancers in a circle to return to their original partners and
the music ended. Without a word, he placed a hand on her lower back and whisked
her away, through the open doors and onto the terrace.

K
imberly’s
warmth penetrated the flesh of Robert’s palm as he escorted her to the far edge
of the terrace. A shot of lust tightened already-taut muscles.

“I ken this is highly improper. I should not take you away
from your chaperone.” His voice too gravelly, he cleared a dry throat. “Ach,
well, I hoped we could share a word in private.”

“I know of a secluded spot in the garden where no one will
overhear us.” Kimberly’s brown eyes held a curious gold glimmer. Mischief?

Was she flirting?

Robert flicked his gaze toward the candlelit room beyond the
open doors. Yellow light fell onto the stone of the terrace near the doorway;
fortunately, he and Kimberly were well hidden from view within the shadows. No
one seemed to have noticed their departure.

“Will you show me the way?” he asked, hesitant, the teasing
gleam in her eyes making him uneasy. For God’s sakes, she didn’t know him. She
shouldn’t be looking at him that way.

Her tongue slipped out and moistened her lips, causing his
insides to flame. His need to hold her close chased away all doubt.

“Please.” He wasn’t beyond begging her favor.

She took his hand, and he followed along after her like an
obedient puppy following its beloved mistress. Robert kept a smile to himself,
glad Kimberly didn’t know how to behave properly. A well-bred lady of this time
would never take a man, stranger or not, alone into a garden unless…

She planned to be ruined?

Hmmm. Was it possible Kimberly believed she was an
eighteenth century lass and planned to trap a wealthy husband? Robert grinned.
Now there was an idea.

Torches burned throughout the garden to light the way. They
walked along a path laid with fragments of shells, through a courtyard with a
fountain where carved stone mermaids swam, to a secluded garden alcove with a
stone bench and tall shrubbery for walls. Kimberly yanked him within and before
he took a breath, her lips pressed against his and stole the air from his
lungs.

Blood rushed through his veins, heading south. Their tongues
met, and all he knew was texture and sensation and the fire in his loins. He
slipped arms around a slim waist, lowered his hands until he felt the luscious
curve of her bottom through the layer of skirts, and drew her forward against a
stiff arousal. Instead of pulling away and slapping him, as any young lass
should, she melted into him.

His conscience flared. But if she didn’t know who he was,
she shouldn’t be kissing him, dammit. Anger replaced the feelings of guilt, and
he released her from the embrace, ending the kiss and stepping away.

“God, I missed you,” she said breathlessly.

“What?” Sluggish to process the meaning of the words, he
slowly un-flexed the fists he’d unconsciously formed.

“I was scared I’d never see you again.” She grabbed the
lapels of his long coat and kissed him again. Hard. A kiss that branded his
soul.

When the kiss ended, he took a moment to compose himself
before speaking. “I dinnae understand. I thought you did not recognize me. That
you did not ken who I am or anything of yourself.”

“I’ll explain.” She led him by the hand to the bench and
sat. Then she patted the seat beside her. “Please, sit with me.”

Confusion made Robert dizzy. Maybe he should act upon the
suggestion and join her on the bench. He slapped back the flaps of his coats
and sat. “Mistress, I—”

She placed a gloved finger to his lips for a brief moment.
“I know who you are.”

“You do?” His voice sounded strangely shrill.

“Of course, I’m only pretending to have amnesia or
brain
fever
as they call it.” Kimberly removed her gloves, placing them in her
lap.

A rush of relief allowed him to breathe more easily. “What
happened?” After she explained the circumstances of the rescue from the beach
and the later meeting with Lady Anne, he understood the sense in the lie. “Good
thinking.”

“Thanks. Why do you imagine we became separated?”

“Could be my ship acted as an anchor for me and you did not
have anything in this time to draw you, to ground you in this time.”

“Glad that’s over.” Kimberly ran a hand over his smooth
cheek. “Your scar is gone.”

“Aye. The French pirate cut my face the night the curse
transformed me.” Robert chuckled. “I could have used my vampire powers to disguise
the disfiguration, but instead I chose to leave the damaged flesh visible.”

“Why?”

“Ach, well. The clumsy attempts of strangers not to stare
reminded me of my blunder. ’Twas a warning never to underestimate an opponent.”

“You were too hard on yourself.”

Robert released a breath and shook his head. “Nae. LaRoux is
dangerous and I was a fool.”

“Have you heard any mention of him since you’ve returned?”

“Rumor has him stalking the coast.”

She sighed, exhaling a heavy flow of air, and lowered her
gaze.

Robert removed the hand from his cheek and brought the palm
to his lips. Kimberly shivered in response. Then she tugged the ribbon from his
hair. The strands fell around his shoulders in waves. She grasped a handful and
playfully tugged. “I like it.”

Did he actually suffer the heat of a blush burning his
cheeks? She’d unman him if he let her.

“Robert, I can’t bear waiting another moment. I need to feel
you inside me.”

“Here?” Of course, his throbbing erection proved he wanted
her too. But not here. Not where someone could stumble upon them.

The hair ribbon dropped from her fingers. The green velvet
fluttered to the ground to land beside the bench. Her rose-colored gloves
followed.

He met her gaze. Golden flecks sparkled within the brown,
hinting at the sexual hunger burning there. His chest tightened and he found it
hard to breathe.

“Please.” She slowly raised her skirt hem, inch by
excruciating inch.

The mere sight of her ankle made his arousal hard as stone.
The line of her calf—

“Bloody hell, Kimberly, I dinnae think we should.” He
dragged a hand through his hair.

“I don’t see why not. It’s dark, and I’m not wearing any
panties under this gown. I need to feel you’re real and not a figment of my
imagination.”

His cock spasmed, and he groaned. She was killing him with
her logic. He rose from the seat, and she hiked up her skirt over her knees,
showing more leg as she straddled the bench. When she started bunching the rose
fabric at her waist, he looked away and released a strangled breath. He scanned
the area surrounding the alcove.

“Not here.” He took her hand and pulled her up from the
bench. “Come.” The word was a guttural command.

Kimberly stood, skirt dropping to hide her tantalizing
flesh. He led her along another garden path and onto the manicured lawn.

* * *

Lady Anne stifled an unpleasant shudder when she glimpsed
Lord Chalmers’ young daughter approaching. The lass looked as if she were a
pampered cat who’d swallowed her mistress’s favorite canary and knew no
punishment awaited. The girl dropped into a quick curtsy.

“Lady and Lord Hamilton, I would not normally tattle on an
acquaintance, but I fear for the reputation of Mistress Kimberly.” The veiled
accusation rushed from pursed lips.

Anne gasped. How dare Jane start a scandal?

“What has happened?” Archibald asked. “Explain yourself,
lass.”

“I am sure ’tis naught to concern us, dear.” Anne placed a
soothing hand on her husband’s arm, hoping to cool the heat of the girl’s
jealous words.

“Oh, but it is. I observed the infamous scoundrel, Captain
MacLachlan, boldly escort Mistress Kimberly from the terrace into the shadows
of the garden. Someone must protect her from the likes of him.”

No one needed to protect Kimberly from Robert. More likely,
he would shield her from others who would prey on a lost woman. He was known to
be of unquestionable honor.

“Do you accuse Captain MacLachlan of indecent action against
our ward?” Archibald demanded.

Jane Chalmers sniffled and raised a hand to her chest in a
good imitation of feminine concern. “I am so verra afeared for Mistress
Kimberly. She doesn’t seem right in the head, if you ken my meaning. She might
not understand the need to resist a wayward advance.”

Archibald stiffened. His face flushed red. “The man dares to
take advantage of my hospitality?”

“Let us not come to a hasty conclusion. Kimberly is probably
only showing the good captain the gardens.” Anne attempted to lighten the
dramatics. She dropped the hand from Archibald’s sleeve and glared at Jane.

“The brain fever has obviously impaired her good sense,”
Archibald said then turned to the Chalmers girl and patted her arm in a
fatherly fashion. “Dinnae worry yourself, lass, I will personally handle the
situation.”

“Now, Archibald, I think you overreact.” Anne loved her
husband dearly, but once he got a bur in his breeches, he was impossible.

“You must come with me, my dear, in case a woman’s touch is
required. Heaven knows, I have been accused of being too gruff on occasion and
your ward is of a sensitive nature.” He gently grasped Anne’s elbow. “We will
find Mistress Kimberly and ensure her safety.”

Archibald escorted Anne through the doors and onto the
terrace. To her annoyance, Jane followed in their wake. Fortunately, none of
the other guests noticed the commotion and joined in the search.

The crunch of shells beneath their feet grated on Anne’s
already annoyed sensibilities. She’d never cared much for the Chalmers lass and
the girl had given Anne more reason to dislike her. They strode the garden
paths in all directions and found no sign of the young couple.

Anne tugged on her husband’s arm as they entered the mermaid
alcove. “See, Archibald, false alarm, they are not in the garden.”

Jane released a squeal of delight and bent to pick something
up from the ground.

“Well, they
were
here.” She held a green velvet ribbon,
a color matching the long coat Captain MacLachlan wore, and a pair of
rose-colored gloves as if she’d won a prize at a fair. Anne stifled a smile,
recognizing the gloves as the ones she lent to Kimberly. Maybe she wouldn’t
need to push the couple together.

“Give me those,” Archibald demanded. “Mistress Jane, return
to the house.”

The girl reluctantly relinquished her treasure to Archibald,
and he slapped the gloves against a thigh. “My lady and I will ensure nae harm
comes to our ward.”

* * *

Kimberly’s heels sank into the lawn. She kicked off a shoe
and bent to remove the stocking, wobbled and slowly rolled the thick silk down
her calf and off, dropping it on the ground. A strangled masculine gasp made
her smile and she looked at Robert from beneath lowered lashes. His nostrils
flared, and he groaned. Although he sounded like a wounded animal, laughter
danced in his eyes.

“Come here. Let me lean on you.” She flipped off the second
rose-colored silk slipper.

Kimberly held onto Robert’s upper arm with one hand and slid
the remaining stocking off with the other, tossing it onto the lawn to join the
first. The cool grass tickled her toes, not the luxurious softness of Kentucky
Blue, more the coarse feel of Bermuda grass, but pleasant all the same. They waltzed
across the lawn, holding each other close, and Kimberly laughed aloud as Robert
whirled her into the tropical forest. He chuckled, too, the husky sound pure
pleasure to her ears.

She breathed in the unique scent of ocean and woods and
gazed at the man she loved. “I was terrified when I thought I was lost in time,
alone. Afraid I’d never see you again, Robert. Afraid I’d never return home.
Afraid… Well, enough to say, I was frightened.”

“I am sorry. I never should have allowed you to accompany me
on this quest.”

“I don’t want an apology. You had no choice. I wasn’t about
to stay behind.” She gave him one of her speed smiles. “Now that we’ve found
each other everything will be okay.”

“How can you say that? We have my worst night terror yet to
face.”

“Then we’ll face the worst together.” She grasped his upper
arms and squeezed before releasing him. “No more talk about nightmares, at
least for now. I want to make love. Please, Robert.”

“I am yours to command.” He waved an arm with a flourish and
bent into a low bow.

She giggled, actually giggled. “You’re playing the gallant
to the max.”

“Ach, well.” He stalked toward her. A devilish twinkle
glittered in his cinnamon eyes as he slowly backed her up until her rear rested
against the rough bark of a large tree. He leaned in close. Heat radiated from
his body as he pressed against her, surrounding her in loving warmth.

God was she glad she hadn’t allowed Lady Anne to talk her
into wearing one of those hoop petticoats—supposedly all the rage on the
streets of London. The tight corset was bad enough.

Robert’s mouth slanted over hers, and she forgot about
women’s undergarments. Their kiss—wet, potent, deep—made her bare toes curl
into the dirt at the base of the tree. She could feel each quick breath he took
as if it were her own. The rhythm of their hearts raced at the same breakneck
speed.

He tasted delicious—the peachy fruit of the brandy he’d
drank. He smelled good too.

She felt a moment of loss when he stopped kissing her. Then
his tongue caressed an earlobe and she moaned from the exquisite sensation.
Desire swept through her to pool low in her belly, and lower in her womb.

“Now.” She wasn’t beyond begging, and she tugged on his
silky hair. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He chuckled and lifted her skirts. Then it was as if the
world thudded to a stop, faded away. The satiny rasp of his hard length
entering her nearly pushed her over the edge. Pure bliss. She fought the
release though, wanting the sinfully sensual sensations to last forever.