Sea of Desire (36 page)

“Aye, Merideth,” was all he said before
scooping her up. Her hair, now loose from its ribbon, fell over one
arm, her silk skirts over the other. He shifted, bringing her face
closer to his. They shared a breath, a soul-shattering moment of
anticipation; then she lifted her mouth to his. The kiss was deep
and long, and went unbroken as he carried her across the cabin to
his wooden-sided bunk.

Even as he lowered her onto the mattress,
following her until he rested in the cradle of her body, he
continued the kiss. Only a need for air, and to taste the rest of
her, broke the fusion.

Her throat was soft, sweet smelling and
sensitive to his touch. She arched, throwing her head back to give
him better access as he trailed a line of kisses down the slender
column. His tongue wet the flutter of pulse, sending the rhythm off
kilter.

“God, Merideth, you taste so good.” With his
mouth Jared followed the velvet stream of ribbon that led to the
locket nestled between her breasts. Ignoring the silken fabric
molded to her flesh, Jared nipped and suckled till she wiggled and
writhed beneath him. Till she tore at the shirt covering his back,
yanking the linen from his breeches and digging her fingers into
the crisscrossing cords of muscle.

“How?” he breathed, fumbling with the
fasteners on her stomacher. God, he should have undressed her
before he tumbled them both onto the bunk. Now all their efforts
were frustrated by their reluctant inability to let go of each
other.

Jared’s teeth and whiskered chin grazed her
shoulder as he managed to rid her of the gown’s bodice. Now only
the fine gauze of her chemise covered her breasts. The thin silk
couldn’t disguise her rosy nipples, puckered berry hard, nor the
distended centers that beckoned to his mouth.

Merideth lifted her buttocks off the bed as
he dragged the tangle of skirts and petticoats from her body. He
shifted to the side enough to peel clocked hose down the slender
calves, lingering a moment to follow the graceful curve of her
instep before tossing the silk to the cabin’s wooden deck. Then
with a flick of the drawstring, the shift’s neck widened, enabling
him to skim it down her ribs, over her hips, and further.

She lay before him, her body covered by
nothing but the flush of sexual arousal. He touched her, his long,
slender fingers splaying across her stomach from hipbone to
hipbone, and Merideth closed her eyes and moaned. When the heel of
his palm inched lower she shamelessly spread her legs, allowing him
entrance to her heated core.

But it wasn’t his hand that nuzzled between
her thighs. A sweep of his midnight hair tightened her muscles,
sending them into spasms that flowed and concentrated in the heart
of her femininity as his tongue probed, stimulating the sensitive
kernel of flesh.

The climax that shook her was so sharp, so
carnal, that a scream escaped as wave upon wave of sensual delight
spread through her body. Her head twisted to the side and her eyes
closed, but the bright celebration of colors continued, each vision
brighter than the one before.

Before the swells subsided, he slid up her
body. Somehow he’d shed his breeches, for the smooth tip of his
manhood, hot as a poker, pressed inside her.

Merideth’s body stretched to accept the size
and strength of him. She raised her knees, twining her legs around
his slim hips, and waited for the rhythmic power of his mating to
commence.

But he was still. Her lashes lifted and she
gazed into his eyes, smoky and dark with passion. The skin was
tight across his straight blade of nose. And his mouth was full and
beautiful.

Capturing her hands, he stretched them high
above the fan of golden curls till her knuckles skimmed the
headboard. Then he twined their fingers, tightening his grip as he
began to thrust deep inside her.

He withdrew, then entered with more power
than before. His sweat-slick chest skimmed a heartbeat above hers,
the tangle of raven hair brushing against her erect nipples.

“Please,” she whispered, barely able to
recognize her own voice, or to know what she begged for.

A flash of white teeth brightened the dark
intensity of his face, then the grin faded. His mouth tightened,
the tendons on his neck thickened, stood out in bold relief under
his sun-browned skin. When he could stand the anticipation no more,
he drove faster, deeper.

When she cried out, his mouth fused with
hers. He surged uncontrollably, the frenzied motion cresting into
an eruption of pure pleasure that seemed to go on and on.

They collapsed together, his face falling
into the tangle of curls above her shoulder, his breath rasping in
her ear.

When Jared regained a semblance of composure
he lifted himself, resting his weight on his elbows and framing her
beautiful face with his hands.

“We may have many differences,” he said, his
voice still warm and husky. “But we do have this in common.”

There was no doubt in Merideth’s mind what he
meant by “this.” Or that he was right. They shared an overpowering
passion, and there didn’t seem to be anything either of them could
do about it.

Then he drew her into his arms, kissing her
again, and she felt the swell of his body within hers.

And to her shame, Merideth knew she wouldn’t
stop this madness even if she could.

There was no doubt where Captain Blackstone
would spend his nights—no doubt, at least, in Merideth’s mind.

She readied herself for bed that evening,
wondering when he would come to her. She’d seen naught of him since
he’d left her late that afternoon.

Swiping the captain’s silver brush down
through her curls, she glanced toward the bunk. A rose-colored
blush darkened her cheeks. She had tried to straighten the linen
and blankets, but the mattress still looked rumpled to her. Maybe
it was simply her guilty conscience. Tim hadn’t seemed to notice
anything when he’d come this evening for his lesson. He’d been full
of talk of his day, of the measuring of knots, and the direction of
the wind. If there was ever a lad born to be a sailor, ‘twas Tim,
Merideth thought.

But he’d stuck to his word and worked hard at
his lessons, reading from the Buffon’s
Natural History
in
his halting style. He hadn’t even acted too relieved when Merideth
told him he could go, though she’d known he was.

Not that she hadn’t been as well. Truthfully,
Merideth had let him go earlier than their normal lessons ended.
She didn’t want him in the cabin when the captain came.

“ ‘Twas no need to worry about that,” she
mumbled to herself, starting to work the bristles through her hair
with forceful jerks. It was late, nigh on mid-watch, and no sign of
him yet.

Merideth tossed the brush onto the desk and
folded her arms. Why should she care?

She didn’t. “I don’t,” Merideth whispered to
herself.

This afternoon had just... happened. Neither
of them had wanted it to. After all, nothing was changed. She was
still his captive. He still doubted her word. And then there was
Daniel’s contention that Jared would kill her if he suspected she
had betrayed his brother.

And Merideth wasn’t convinced Daniel didn’t
speak the truth. She wasn’t even certain her innocence would save
her.

So why was she pacing the cabin, anticipating
the captain’s return?

Merideth tried to deny that that was what she
was doing, but saw no reason to lie to herself. She’d been in bed,
out of bed, stripped naked, covered by her shift and shawl; she’d
finally folded the shawl and tossed it aside. She’d read, paced the
cabin, brushed her hair... paced the cabin. And he still didn’t
come.

Finally, exasperated with herself and the
weakness that drove her to want him when she shouldn’t, Merideth
doused the candle in the lantern and lay down. The pillow smelled
of him... of his hair and the sea, and she snuggled her face into
it and breathed deeply. Then turned her head, disgusted that just
the smell of him would evoke such need.

Overhead the timbers groaned and she could
hear the faint tingling of bells. One, two, three... Eight bells.
Midnight. She’d learned to tell time by the ringing of the brass
bell that hung in the bracket near the edge of the forecastle. Each
half hour they rang as the sandglass was turned.

The night watch was over. Tired sailors would
be making their way to their hammocks. The thought made Merideth
drowsy. Closing her eyes, she sighed, telling herself she was just
as glad the captain had decided to keep to himself.

It was the exact moment the cabin door
opened.

Startled, Merideth sat up, the blanket
clutched to her breast. She recognized the captain silhouetted
against the lighted passageway and smiled. She couldn’t help
herself.

“I took the night watch,” he said, stepping
into the cabin and shutting the door behind him. “Seemed the least
I could do for missing my own this afternoon.”

Merideth waited for her eyes to adjust to the
dark. The moon was waning, offering no more than a shimmer of light
to the cabin. She sensed rather than saw him move toward her. “I
suppose that’s fair,” Merideth said. She could hear his boot treads
on the wooden floor. He was almost to her.

When his shadowy form settled onto the side
of the bunk, Merideth wriggled over to make room for him. He
hesitated, bending forward, his hands between his knees, his broad
back a spanse of white.

“I’m not sure why I came here,” he began,
then seemed to find his own words amusing, because he laughed.
“Actually, I do know why I came. I’m just not certain it’s the best
thing.”

“I’m not sure either.”

He turned to face her when she spoke.
Merideth caught a glimpse of his shining eyes. “But I don’t want to
leave.”

Merideth bit her bottom lip. Her breathing
had slowed and she forced herself to take a big gulp of air. “I
don’t want you to go either.”

He came to her then in the darkness, his
fingers braiding through her hair, his lips warm and firm. Heat
speared through her as he lowered her down on the mattress. Her
arms wrapped around his lean waist, kneading the slabs of taut
muscles across his back.

She loved the weight of him, the solid feel
of him as his body settled onto her. His kisses were tender at
first, less hungry, but no less intense than this afternoon, and
Merideth luxuriated in them. When he paused to rid her of the
shift, himself of his shirt, breeches, and boots, Merideth found
she missed him.

But soon he was back, slipping inside her as
smoothly as water over glass. She drew him in, cupping his buttocks
and meeting each long, slow plunge.

His mouth slid off hers, following the curve
of her jaw till it found the underside of her chin, the slender
line of her neck. “Merry, oh God, Merry,” he murmured, his breath a
hot brand on her flesh. Then she could hear nothing but the soft
sensual moans that came from both of them.

She tingled, the thrusts quickened, and her
mind hazed with anticipation. When her release came in long
undulating crests of pleasure, Jared linked their hands, bracketing
her head. Their fingers twined, staying that way long after they’d
coaxed the last shivers free.

Merideth lifted her lashes, and though the
cabin was dark she could tell he stared at her. But she could not
read his expression, and though she thought to ask what he was
thinking, the words wouldn’t come.

After a moment he settled down on the bunk,
pulled her to his side, and covered them with the woolen blanket.
Merideth rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep to the
lullaby of his soft snores.

In the morning he was gone.

Waking up with the first blush of dawn
shining through the stern windows, Merideth smiled, then stretched,
her arms stopping in mid spread when she realized she was alone in
the bunk.

Sitting up, she looked around the cabin. In
the gritty light she could see he’d taken his clothes. Not a sign
of him remained from last night.

“Which is as I expected,” Merideth said as
she clambered from the bed. Nothing had really changed between
them.

Except now they were lovers.

Not in love, though Merideth wasn’t certain
she didn’t suffer from that ailment. But it was obvious the captain
didn’t. He wanted one thing from her. Two, if you counted the name
of the traitor. But she couldn’t give him that.

Biting her lip to keep the tears at bay,
Merideth splashed water from the pitcher into the bowl, then onto
her face. She dressed quickly, tied back her hair, and stuffed the
old felt hat onto her head. With a smile forced on her lips she
went on deck.

The day was sharp and clear, a fresh wind
sang through the sails, and before she knew it, the smile was
genuine. She spoke briefly with Mr. Pochet, the ship’s carpenter,
then was hailed to the rail by Tim.