Caution to the Wind (28 page)

Amanda quickly put her hand over her mouth when another giggle threatened. She glanced at Captain Stoddard and his officers to see if they had noticed, but they were in the midst of an argument over whether the French could be counted on to help the Americans shake off Britain’s tyranny.

Captain Stoddard hadn’t noticed, but someone else did.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough, my love?” Captain Stoakes whispered, his breath caressing her ear and sending tingles shooting down her arm to the tips of her fingers.

Had he just called her
my love
? She hadn’t really been paying attention, so perhaps she had misheard. She raised her gaze to his.

“Perhaps you might want to slow down a bit.”

Amanda tried to focus on the words as they formed on his lips. They were such delicious looking lips. His upper lip was well formed, but not at all feminine. And his lower lip was so pleasingly full that she felt an overwhelming urge to nibble on it. To the sides of his mouth, he had creases that grew deeper when he smiled. They weren’t visible now though.

She wondered what it would be like to trail little kisses over those lines. She had never kissed a man’s face before. She remembered the sharp prick of his whiskers against her fingertips. What would they feel like against her mouth? Her tongue? She licked her lips, tasting the slightly sweet remnants of wine, and imagined the feel of his whiskers as she nibbled on his angled jaw.

“But it is the Spaniards that have the best songs!” Lieutenant Bradley’s enthusiastic declaration drew her attention away from Will’s face.

“Songs?” Amanda clasped her hands together. “It has been so long since I have heard any. Will you sing one for me?”

****

Good God, what was that? Now that Amanda no longer threatened his self-control by staring at his mouth as though ravenous, he could think.

She giggled when the young lieutenant suggested a song whose title should have made her blush.

He recalled Bull saying she couldn’t hold her rum. He thought that had just been a story his officers had made up to defend her and hadn’t given it much thought when he had poured her that first glass of wine. Now into her third glass, her merry laughter and the openly sensual look she had just given him, suggested she had the same trouble with wine.

He had about come undone when her little tongue flicked out to moisten her lips while she stared hungrily at his. And people compared him to a predator? If they could have seen the look in her eye a moment ago, they might have thought twice about whom they called a wolf.

Of course, he might have devoured her if his guests hadn’t still been there. For a fleeting moment, he considered sending Captain Stoddard and his lieutenants back to their ship so he could haul her back to his cabin and make love to her.

Then the sprinkling of freckles across her delightful little nose caught his eye, and he remembered himself. Until he could propose a new arrangement, she still served under his command, and he would not take advantage of his position.

Amanda leaned forward and the bodice she couldn’t quite fill gapped slightly. Will’s body hardened when he caught a glimpse of one rosy tipped breast. It would be best if he sent her back to the quarters she shared with the doctor before he discovered just how far his honor extended.

He watched the three young naval officers serenade a sparkling-eyed Amanda and found he didn’t have the heart to end her evening prematurely. She was not to blame for the passions she provoked in him.

Will nudged his nearly full glass of wine away. He hadn’t drank much of his wine and alcohol never had much effect on him anyway. Nevertheless, it would be best to keep all his wits about him tonight.

He glanced up when James encouraged Amanda to join in him a song. He taught her the words, and her sultry female voice accompanied the deeper male voices in a harmonious combination. Although not a particularly bawdy song as sailor’s tunes went, Amanda’s husky tones made it sound suggestive, and Will fought another painful wave of desire.

After the song ended, Lieutenant Bradley took another turn to show off his talents, selecting a ballad that he proceeded to sing while gazing directly into Amanda’s eyes. Amanda looked down at her hands, her face flushed, when Bradley began to sing about unrequited love in his surprisingly clear, tenor voice. When he grasped her hand, Will pushed away from the table, the discordant scraping of his chair against the wooden planks turning all eyes to him.

“The night has grown late, and I suggest it is time to retire,” he said, ignoring James’s knowing grin.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The crew rowed Captain Stoddard and his men back to the
Venture
. Will watched until the dark night swallowed the small boat.

Gazing up at the moon slung low in the sky, he gave a harsh laugh. Poor James’s men must think him an insufferable boor. They had dined with him twice, and on both occasions, he had been an irascible dinner companion.

The first time, it had been because of his eagerness to get back to the
Amanda
. His ship represented more than a home, more than his livelihood. For a man like him, being ashore was akin to being cast adrift.

This time, however, it had been a different Amanda—one with green eyes that drew him in until he thought he might drown in their depths. Now that he had acknowledged his feelings for her, they had free rein on his senses, bringing him to dizzying heights then dropping him into the depths of despair. Having her near him was like trying to ride out a hurricane.

But if being near her was this painful, what would it be like after she returned home? In the midst of a hurricane, hope still thrived. Only when it passed could one really see the full extent of the devastation.

A star shot across the sky, vanishing when it reached the hazy horizon where inky black faded to charcoal gray. Will blew out a breath. Unlike his ship, the flesh and blood woman was not his to command. He could not order her to love him, any more than Odysseus could tame a siren.

Will laughed at the stars. Perhaps, if he had his men tie him to his own main mast, he could ride out this obsession.

Speaking of his personal siren, he needed to check on her and make sure she found her way back to her own hammock. He headed for the hatch.

His decision to allow her to stop hiding herself beneath a tattered tunic and canvas trousers had seemed like a good one at the time. Trying to keep her secret from his crew had been driving him insane, and it seemed only a matter of time before the rest of them discovered it anyway. Cookie hadn’t appeared too surprised, which led him to wonder if others had discovered what he had.

His gaze slid over hammocks filled with snoring sailors. It would all be a moot point soon.

He had toyed with the idea of keeping Amanda aboard ship, turning it, twisting it, and looking for a solution from every angle. He might not be able to keep her secret, but he could instruct Buck to assign guard duties to men he trusted. He, on the other hand, would have to be conveniently absent or occupied—or tied to the mast—whenever she brought his meals to his quarters.

Then he remembered the way she looked at dinner, a sea nymph in green satin. Even in a dress borrowed from the fishmonger’s wife, Amanda would be a distraction for any man. He had to let her go.

He squinted into the darkness, acknowledging the real reason he searched for Amanda. More than ensuring she made it to her hammock safely, he wanted to see her one last time.

In the morning, he would have a boat row her ashore. Buck would escort her to ensure she hired a reputable coach to take her back to the farm. He might even delay his departure so Buck could accompany her the entire way and make sure the British hadn’t burned her home to the ground. Even if they had, Buck could see her situated in town with access to her considerable funds.

“Oh, hello, Captain!” Amanda’s melodic voice came from somewhere on the other side of the darkness. Like a siren calling him to the rocks. “I’m afraid this ship has grown somewhat, and I seem to have misplaced my hammock. Would you be a dear and help me find it?”

“Would you keep it down?” Will growled, weaving his way between the remaining hammocks toward the sound of her voice.

He didn’t need the men to wake and find Amanda dressed like a woman and tipsy to boot.

Groping for her in the dark, his fingers found her delicate wrist, and he pulled her against his chest. His frown deepened when he gazed into her flushed face and heavily lidded eyes.

“The doctor’s quarters are at the other end of the ship,” he said in a harsh whisper.

“Oh,” Amanda’s eyes grew round, and she glanced about. “I must have gotten turned around.”

Will frowned. From now on, she had a one-glass limit. But it was too late to do anything about it tonight. He could not leave her, alone and unguarded, in this condition.

Dr. Miller had left with the men of the
Venture
to discuss medicine with Stoddard’s surgeon, an old friend of his. Last time they caught up with Stoddard’s ship, the doctor had lost track of time while discussing his latest experiments with his friend, and Will did not see his ship’s surgeon until late the next day. Without the doctor to look after her, Amanda would be on her own.

He couldn’t have her stumbling about in the middle of the night, in that gown, with the slight swell of her breasts peeking out above the neckline. He knew all too well the temptation she presented.

He cursed the saleswoman who had assumed he bought the gown for his wife or a mistress. She had assured him the design was just the thing for his ladylove. Of course, he couldn’t blame her for making the wrong assumption. No man bought a gown and undergarments for a woman he wasn’t bedding. No man except him. He tightened his grip on her arm and pushed her ahead of him into his quarters.

Amanda didn’t comment on their destination. Without waiting for him to leave, she reached for the buttons along the back of her gown, chattering on about the evening. She released the top two buttons then struggled with a third until Will took pity on her feeble attempts to undress herself. When he started undoing the row of tiny pearl buttons trailing down her back, she stopped trying to do anything herself and let him do all the work while she prattled on.

He slipped the gown from her shoulders, past her waist, and over her hips, satin whispering against satin. Gritting his teeth against a tug of desire, he helped her step out of it. Then he unlaced her stays and untied her petticoats, letting them fall to the floor at her feet. If privateering no longer paid, he thought humorlessly, he had a future as a lady’s maid.

“Your friend, Captain Stoddard, is a very handsome man, isn’t he?” Amanda stood before him wearing only her stockings and a gossamer shift.

“I wouldn’t know.” Will muttered.

The soft, flowing shift brushed her small curves, taunting his self-control. Beneath the thin fabric, twin, pink nipples jutted out, inviting him closer, drawing him in, unraveling his resolve. He cursed the saleswoman again for doing her job all too well. His siren needed no assistance.

Amanda seemed to have no intent of finishing the job of undressing herself, and he considered abandoning her in her shift and stockings while he sought refuge in her hammock in the doctor’s quarters. Then he reminded himself that he needed to watch over her. Having her wander the ship in a nearly transparent shift would be worse than the emerald gown. Locking her in his quarters had proved ineffective once, and he wasn’t about to chance it again.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, he picked her up and plunked her down on the edge of his desk.

“I understand he is recently married.” Amanda set her hand on Will’s shoulder to steady herself.

The breathy way she spoke about his friend had Will gritting his teeth once more. Then Amanda leaned in, bringing one pink nipple almost to the edge of his nose, and he thought he might grind them to stubs.

She didn’t even pause for a breath when he pushed her shift up to her knees and rolled a stocking down her calf, past her ankle, and off her foot. He reached under her shift to remove her other stocking. The heat from her thighs washing over his fingers, he probed for the garter holding her stocking in place. His gaze locked on her face, he tugged at the bow, pulled off the strip of satin and tossed it aside.

Through her wine-fogged brain, she must have sensed his gaze on her face. Her chattering stopped mid-sentence, and her green eyes focused on his. Her small pink tongue made a brief sweep of her upper lip, leaving it moist and glistening in the candlelight.

Will groaned and scooped her off the desk and into his arms. Without a word of protest, she entwined her arms around his neck and nuzzled his ear. He carried her to his hammock and set her down on his bedding. He stared at her, his resolve flowing from him like molten glass, melted by the heat of her expression.

“What am I going to do with you, my little siren?” He sat on the edge of the hammock and rested a hand on her thigh.

He stroked the fabric with his thumb, the warmth rising from her flesh making him all too aware that only a thin layer of cotton separated skin from skin.

Amanda answered for him. Propping herself up with one arm behind her, she moved her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him to her. Her green eyes shone with the same determination he had seen on that first day.

Will struggled against the storm of desire that raged within him. When her soft lips settled on his, and her mouth opened to allow her tongue to dart out to tease him, he nearly gave in. He wanted her, and from all indications, she wanted him too.

Had he overestimated her innocence? She nipped his lower lip, and he winced. Perhaps not.

She might be lacking in style, ignorant in the ways of making love, but she made up for it with enthusiasm. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. Three types of men signed on to privateers: the adventurous, the desperate and the stupid. Amanda certainly wasn’t stupid, and although she had signed on to protect her brother, the way she had taken to the sea showed a love of adventure that rivaled most of his men. Perhaps she saw making love as just another new adventure.