Caution to the Wind (34 page)

“That’s not what I meant. I am already on the brink from having you under me, and that may be more than I can take.”

“Oh. Then would this be too much?” Amanda giggled and ran a foot up the length of his leg.

When her toe trailed past the back of his knee, her hips splayed beneath his. Palms flat against his buttocks, she pulled him snuggly against her.

The tip of him pressed against her tender flesh. Warm moisture allowed him to slide inside her with ease, yet he held back. Will grunted and raised himself on his knees, straddling one of her legs. Amanda glanced up in confusion, wondering what she had done to make him pull away.

He bent forward to kiss her, and the confusion was forgotten when his tongue tangled with hers. He pushed forward, his hard thigh covered by soft springy curls fueling the fires within. Without shame or regard for her own modesty, she shifted so that her soft folds opened to expose the sensitive nub between them.

Will gave an amused chuckle and reached between them to stroke her more effectively with his thumb. Was he laughing at her again? Amanda no longer cared.

Will rolled off her and onto his side, even as his hand remained in contact with her. He continued to drive her to distraction with his thumb before parting the folds between her legs and gently inserting the tip of one finger. Amanda arched her back when he stroked her inner core.

Lost in a sea of sensation, her own soft moans reached her ears as if from a distance. She rode a wave of pleasure to its crest. In a brief moment of sanity, she cracked one eye open to gauge his reaction to her uninhibited response. Will had his head propped on one hand, his torso supported by one elbow while he made love to her with his other hand. His eyes glowed like golden embers, but his wolfish grin told her he enjoyed this.

The muscles in her abdomen, and those even deeper within, clenched. The intensity of the spasms made her gasp for air. “Will,” she called his name, her voice hoarse, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“You want me to stop?” Will’s hand stilled.

“Yes,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “I mean no. I mean...”

“I know what you mean.” He lowered her onto her back and rolled on top of her. He kissed her neck, then settled his knees between her thighs, forcing them open. He lifted his face and looked into her eyes. “Are you frightened?”

Amanda shook her head as she bit her lip. Perhaps she was, but not because of what they were about to share and certainly not of him. However, knowing that she might not be able to make this night last the rest of her life terrified her. She would always remember him and this moment, but she now understood that, once she fully gave herself to him, she would be more lost than ever without him. She would be that lonely old woman at the bedroom window, but at least that woman would have her memories to sustain her.

Will searched her face, and she sensed he needed her assent. The controlled captain had won out, for the moment, over the wolf within. He would send her on her way with no questions asked should she request it. Not trusting her own voice, she smiled her consent before his honorable instincts could assert complete control of him and she lost him forever.

“Wrap your legs around me, my love,” he said, and she obeyed.

Never taking his eyes off hers, Will reached down and parted her gently with his fingers before entering her slowly and cautiously. Amanda willed herself to breath lest she pass out and end the evening prematurely. Then Will thrust forward with his hips and easily broke the thin barrier between them.

In an instinctive reaction to the invasion, every muscle in her body tightened. Above, Will’s body tensed as well.

“Still doing all right?” he asked a moment later, his breath rustling the curls against her ear.

His voice was tight as though it took great effort to hold himself back. She nodded and he thrust his hips forward then retreated in a slow motion that, at first, matched the rocking of the ship, then in a faster, almost desperate rhythm. To compensate for the curve of the hammock and his lack of leverage, he rolled onto his side and pulled Amanda along with him, and used the strength of his arms as much as his legs to time her movements to his. Amanda gasped when he thrust deeper, filling her completely.

Amanda could sense Will watching her, measuring her response. She knew he would stop if she gave him the slightest sign. It bothered her that at this moment he could maintain that much control over his own desire.

Then her own rational mind deserted her. She reveled in the feel of the muscles of his back and hips working in rhythm under her hands. She slid her palms over them, pulling him to her. With each thrust, Amanda became more aware of her physical being and her surroundings faded until she and Will were all that remained.

Will shut his eyes, and a fierce look of concentration washed over his chiseled features. When he quickened his pace, she stopped her exploration and reached up to grab his shoulders. Will’s body thrust against hers, her body responding in kind, the two of them setting the hammock in motion. Her inner core trembled, and reason left her completely.

Will tightened his grip around her and deepened his thrusts, digging his fingers into her hips, straining against her. Then he stilled. His forearms wrapped around her back, his hands gripping her shoulders as though he too were trying to hold himself steady against the waves. He leaned forward, rested his forehead on her shoulder, and released a shuddering breath.

They lay, mingled together, for a few more minutes before Will withdrew. Then he put his arm around her waist and drew her to him, her backside nestled against his hips. Amanda sighed her contentment when he drew his quilt over them.

The hammock, once again swung in time to the gentle rocking of the ship, and Amanda melted into it, into him. Gradually, her awareness of the night noises that surrounded them returned, the creaking of the timbers, her snoring shipmates, the sound of the city just yards away. The warmth of his chest against her back seeped into her, and sleep beckoned her into its depths.

“Will,” she said in a hoarse whisper, feeling a desperate need to take full advantage of her final moments of consciousness.

“Hmmm.” His sleepy murmur made her wonder if she hadn’t lost her last opportunity.

Before she gave into her own need to sleep, she let the words spill from her lips. “I love you,” she whispered.

Tears stung the back of her eyelids. She might have put these final blissful moments to better use by bidding him farewell.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Will awoke the following morning in a state of bemused lethargy. His brain mired in a fog, he considered doing nothing more than lying in his hammock all day. As captain, he would normally be up and about before sunrise, but the harsh glare through the high windows told him sunrise had been hours ago.

Will yawned and stretched muscles unaccustomed to use. He considered rising, but only for a moment. Even a captain ought to have the right to sleep in every once in awhile. Hunger gnawed at his belly, but he didn’t want breakfast just yet. He glanced at the empty space next to him and gave a wicked little grin. In time, he would teach Amanda that one didn’t always need to be so attentive to duty.

The memory of his adventurous she-wolf only intensified his hunger. She had been a fast learner last night, unafraid and uninhibited, just what one might expect from a woman with enough daring to sign on to a privateer. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

Still, he had vowed to take his time with her, to ease her introduction to lovemaking and give her the leeway to retreat if she wanted to.

A vision of her, pale lashes sweeping against flushed cheeks, lips swollen from passionate kisses, hands reaching out to touch him in the most intimate of ways, made him groan in near pain.

She had enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he. Then, as they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, she had declared her love for him. He would have laughed with joy were it not likely to bring Buck running to see what addled his captain.

Sighing, he considered that he must at least dress. Eventually, he would be needed on deck. He eyed his blue woolen coat, slung carelessly over the back of a chair, a bulge in one pocket marring its crisp lines. In the heat of the moment, he had completely forgotten the peace offering, betrothal gift, farewell gift. That mattered little, he decided. He would have plenty of time to present it to her today—as a betrothal gift. After last night, there could be no doubt she needed him as much as he needed her.

Will stood to dress, taking his time so he might not be fully finished when Amanda returned to his quarters with his breakfast. He would satisfy one hunger at a time.

Alas, the anticipated knock at his door didn’t come until he had finished tying his cravat in the small mirror above the basin.

“Come in.” The mirror reflected an eager light in his eyes.

Damn, he looked like a man besotted, or at least one well satisfied. He would have to dim his enthusiasm a bit before he went on deck to preserve Amanda’s reputation not to mention his own. A ship’s captain should not be so affected by a night of passion, or a woman.

Cookie entered, carrying a tray in his chubby hands. “Mornin’, sir. Shall I set this on the desk, sir?”

Will nodded. The cook’s uncharacteristically formal manner set him on edge.

“Very good, sir.” Cookie laid the tray at the edge of the desk, and then proceeded to arrange Will’s breakfast things in a way that reminded him of Amanda’s attention to detail. Evidently, she had given him precise instructions this morning.

“Where is she?”

“Pardon, sir?” Cookie asked, looking up from the pitcher of cream he had just set next to the captain’s coffee.

“Amanda. Where is she?”

“Not here.” Cookie rearranged the cup and saucer, adjusting and readjusting the angle of the cup’s handle.

“I can see that,” Will said through gritted teeth. “But
where
is she?”

“I don’t rightly know, sir.” Cookie scratched behind his ear and studied the arrangement.

Will drew back the linen cloth that covered his breakfast. The light yellow of hard cooked yolks surrounded by charred whites interlaced with flecks of brown scrapings stared back at him. Cookie’s eggs.

“She didn’t make breakfast?”

“No, sir, I made it.” Cookie’s shoulders slumped.

Will wanted to strangle the full truth out of the portly little Irishman, but he grappled with his temper and decided to take it one step at a time. After all, if Amanda had deserted him, he still needed a cook.

“Did you see her this morning?” he asked

“Yes.” Cookie nodded, chins wobbling.

Will had hoped for a more effusive response, but at least the man hadn’t started out with a lie. In fact, he seemed eager to cooperate. Will suspected he would have said more had someone not given him specific instructions about what not to say. The way Cookie refused to meet his eyes left him no doubt as to the identity of that certain someone.

No matter. Cookie’s response so far suggested he simply needed to ask the right questions. Later, he would explain to his cook that orders from the cook’s assistant did not outrank direct questions from the captain.

“Where?” The one syllable held both question and command.

“On deck,” Cookie said with a slight hesitation, as though he were measuring his answer against a list of things he wasn’t supposed to reveal. Cookie tugged at his collar.

“What was she doing when you saw her?” His voice was slow, measured.

A look of panic flashed in Cookie’s eyes, and his gaze darted about the room, searching for a means of escape. Will knew he had chosen the right tack.

“Leaving,” Cookie said, his gaze dropping to the floor in defeat.

“Leaving?” Will roared, making Cookie jump. “With whom? And did she say where the hell she was going?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Doctor Miller asked from just outside Will’s door.

The doctor gave a silent signal to Cookie and the cook nodded. He hunched his shoulders and shuffled from the captain’s quarters.

“Didn’t tell me what?” Will ground out once he and the doctor were alone.

“She left early this morning to go ashore to live with her father,” Doctor Miller said. “I assumed you knew, given that you’ve been trying to get her off the ship for months now. With her father alive, she has no reason to remain. And there is your rule.”

“I don’t need you reminding me of my rules, Doctor,” Will said, his words laced with warning. He raked his hand through his hair. “She’s been a member of my crew for months now as well as my personal cook. You didn’t think it odd that I didn’t see her off?”

The doctor shrugged. “Well, actually, I didn’t see her leave either. I heard from the men when they returned with the transport boat. But don’t worry. Martin said they left her safely in the care of Mr. Blakely.”

Will stomach clenched. The last time she had been left in her father’s care, he had gone off to war, leaving his children to fend for themselves. What’s more, he still didn’t quite trust the elder Blakely’s good sense not to bring his daughter trouble. The man talked too much, and in his experience, those who did were often indiscreet.

It annoyed him that his men would have rowed her ashore without express orders from their captain. His recent conversation with Buck came back to him. Evidently, his men were as eager to please her as they were to serve him. Then he remembered that her new wardrobe had not yet arrived. If she wore that damn green dress again, and he knew that she had since he had dumped everything else overboard, they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. When he got her back, he would have a talk with her, and a few of his men, about who commanded this ship.

“Shall I ask Buck to send someone to bring her back?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you, Doctor. That will be all.”

After the doctor left, Will rubbed his hand against the back of his neck and blew a pent-up breath between pursed lips. She had thrown him overboard!