Lost Honor (9 page)

“Do you need help?”

She stilled. “I thought you were busy with your accounts.” Suspicion rang in her voice.

“I am, but your movements distracted me.”

“Well, don’t let me bother you.” She resumed her efforts.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled with enjoyment as she twisted, stretched, and bent. The stubborn virago would struggle all night before asking for his assistance. Pushing himself out of the chair, he crossed the room to stand behind her. “Be still.”

She jumped and spun, her hands flying to her chest.

“Turn around.”

“What are you doing?”

He held her shoulders and maneuvered her until her back faced him. “Helping you with the buttons.”

“I don’t need it.”

So she said. But she didn’t squirm while he attacked the fastenings. The material parted to reveal an inch of pure white skin. His penis sprang to life. He hadn’t given her a corset or chemise with the skirt and bodice, and he hadn’t felt either beneath her pants and shirt when he had thrown her over his shoulder. His penis grew harder and more rigid as he uncovered more of her silky, soft flesh his hands itched to caress.

By mistake—not quite—his fingers grazed her naked back as he released the next button. The sizzling heat shot through the tendons of his hand and up his arm.

She shivered and then stiffened.

What was he doing? Apparently, he had been too long without a woman. But it really hadn’t been that long. Susan…

He had to think of her. Of her possible condition right now and their future life together. He had to rescue his brother and get back to her. He wouldn’t leave her to suffer alone.

Summoning all his willpower, he quickly finished slipping the buttons from their holes and turned away from Arianna and the tempting, tantalizing, white seduction. “I’m finished.”

****

Fire seared her back and simmered the blood rushing through her veins. In fear or desire, she wasn’t sure. Even though what he did frightened her, she relished the glorious sensation of his strong, secure fingers skimming across her cold skin.

A delicious feeling she must banish. She was a member of his crew and could never allow him liberties. She wouldn’t permit any man to deter her from her set course.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spied Captain Danvers working on his books, a quill in his hand and a frown on his face. She dropped the opened bodice, threw the cotton shirt over her head, and shrugged her tired, aching arms into the sleeves before he turned his head. She brushed the snarls from her tangled hair with her fingers and quickly wove it into a braid. It was sticky and dirty, but she didn’t have the time to deal with it now. Arianna grabbed a pea jacket from her bag and headed to the door. As she placed her hand on the handle, Captain Danvers’s stern, firm voice rang out.

“Where do you think you are going?”

She spun to face him. “Up on deck. I still have three hours left on my watch.”

“You are not going anywhere.” His head bent, he perused his accounts.

She stepped toward him, her hands on her hips. “Why is that?”

He slowly lifted his head, granting her his attention. “I remember telling you not to wear those pants and shirt.”

“But the outfit you gave me is wet, and I didn’t bring another one with me.”

He shrugged. “Then I guess you will have to wait until it is dry.”

Her heart pounded. “Mr. Markham expects—”

He stood and circled the mahogany desk to the front. “I will deal with Mr. Markham.” His voice had taken on its dark tenor again. “I will not allow you to parade yourself before the crew and tease them with your shapely, swaying rear and long legs outlined in those pants.” He swept his hand down the length of her.

She gasped as her face heated. “I do no such thing.”

“Oh, yes, you do, and you know it. I will not subject them to your wiles.”

“How dare you…” Her hand shot out.

He caught her wrist before it connected with his face.

“Do you know the punishment for striking a captain?”

Her face drained of color. He had made her so angry she hadn’t thought of the consequences. She pictured her back torn and bloody. She shook her head, afraid to speak.

He yanked her against his hard chest and imprisoned her within the circle of his muscular arms. Before she had a chance to react, his hard, bruising lips attacked the softness of hers.

Fear spun through her, and she cried out under their brutal force. The pressure eased, and his lips tantalized and beguiled, seduced instead of punished. She fell under the spell they wove. Her blood still rushed, but he no longer frightened her. A comforting warmth spread throughout, along with an intoxicating tingling.

With one powerful arm around her waist, he pressed her tighter against him while the other hand clasped the back of her head to prevent her escape. Not that she wanted to. At the moment, she was a willing captive. His mouth slid over hers, nipping and licking. His tongue prodded her lips, urging them to part, and when she complied, he glided inside. Surging sensations overpowered her. His rough, velvet tongue explored the confines of her mouth, teeth, and gums and then flicked lightly against hers, persuading it to dance with him.

And shyly she did. Having never been kissed, this was all new to her, and she followed his expert lead. Right into his own hot, moist mouth where she learned its intriguing contours. He smelled and tasted so good, like an ocean sprinkled with spices.

A hand caressed and rubbed her rear. The rear he unfairly accused her of teasing the men with. His statement lacked truth. She wasn’t that type of woman. Only now she allowed him the privilege of touching it.

In the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong and dangerous, and struggled to regain her senses while his tongue pillaged and his hand fondled. Summoning the meager resources she had left, she pulled herself together and pushed against his chest to free herself. His strength greater, Morgan took advantage of the situation for a few seconds longer and then released her.

She stumbled back out of his reach, gasping for breath between swollen lips. Arianna stared at him and he at her, his chest rising and falling at a swift rate. Words failed her.

Finally, he broke the silence. “You will remain in this cabin until your skirt and bodice are dry. Go to bed. You are exhausted. We will speak in the morning.” He exited the cabin.

Dizzy with relief at his departure, confusion and tiredness muddling her thoughts, she staggered to the hammock and dropped into it.

****

In the corridor, Morgan fell back against the closed door. What had he done? He hadn’t meant to kiss her.

Oh, yes he had. He had been wanting to since the first moment he laid his eyes on her. He had thought if he permitted the urge free rein, it would flee. Men always desired what they couldn’t have.

A bitter laugh escaped. He was mistaken. He wanted her more.

And more of her.

His brain spun in a swirling circle. He always had been able to corral his emotions until she crashed into his life. “Bloody hell!” That damn pirate better attack soon. He wanted her off this ship and out of his life.

He pushed away from the door and hurried to the main deck. The smell of fresh, salt air and the sight of the calm, blue ocean soothed him and blew away his troubles. He wished a gale would sweep her away.

He scanned the deck. All seemed in order. His mind was another matter.

“Morgan, did Arianna change into dry clothes?”

Andrew knew of the incident. Maybe he could relate the specifics since the virago below would not. “Yes, and since she doesn’t own a dress, only those damn pants, she won’t return to her duties until the outfit I gave her is dry.”

“It is just as well.”

“What happened tonight?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Only that Briggs was involved. I found them together, but they both insisted there was no problem.”

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t get anything out of her, except it was a personal matter.” He slammed his hand down on the rail. “Bloody hell! I don’t want her near Briggs. He is mean and three times her size.”

“Morgan,” Andrew said in his thoughtful voice. “Maybe she should remain in your cabin for the rest of the voyage.”

Morgan lifted one side of his mouth in a parody of a smile. “Somehow, I don’t think she would stay there. She doesn’t follow orders well.”

“As I found out tonight.” Andrew rubbed his hands together. “It’s getting chilly. I had to order her to go below a few times before she actually went. She tried to return without changing, but when she noticed me waiting, she decided against it.” His short laugh echoed in the night. “She can be a handful. I don’t envy you.”

At least, Andrew knew a bit of what he dealt with, but he couldn’t reveal all to him. Especially the kiss. Susan was his sister. He wouldn’t take it kindly if he learned the man his sister was to wed kissed another woman.

He gazed up at the stars sparkling in the night sky but discovered no answers to his quandary there. He would have to keep a short leash on his emotions, even if her kiss was the sweetest, most sensual he ever experienced. She enjoyed it and was as lost in the sensations as he was. And he would bet his kiss on those softly curved lips was the first she experienced, or close to it. He was pleased to find her willing to follow his lead. Her hot, trim body pressed against his and the feel of her rear beneath his hand…

Stop it
. He angled his bulging erection away from Andrew and struggled to banish memories of her. That is what they would remain. Memories. And he refused to add to those. He glanced at Andrew, who watched him with that look that spied too much. “Keep an eye on Briggs. I don’t want him anywhere near Arianna.”

When Morgan finally dug up the nerve to return to his cabin, he discovered Arianna sound asleep in her hammock where he prayed she would be. His heart constricted at the way he had treated her. She was so exhausted she collapsed into the hammock without removing her clothes. A purple tinge shaded the area beneath her eyes. And even though she had been doused with water, dirt smudged her face and the backs of her hands and muted the shine of her lovely hair.

His boot nudged something soft, and he dropped his gaze to the floor where her few possessions spilled out of her open bag. He shook his head. Did she ever put anything in its proper place? He folded a pair of pants and a shirt and placed them neatly inside. Picking up what he thought was another garment, he discovered a rag doll. Only it wasn’t shaped like a person but like a cat. His brows lowered as he turned it over in his hands. Why would she have this? With no answer forthcoming, he stuffed it in the sack, closed the bag, and placed it in the corner by her hammock.

Snatching a soft, wool blanket off his berth, he gently laid it over her. She had been wet and cold earlier, and he didn’t want her to catch a chill. Then he removed the canvas shoes still protecting her small feet and placed them beneath her on the floor.

She looked so small and vulnerable.

If she didn’t appear on deck for her next shift, he refused to wake her. Arianna wouldn’t thank him, but possessing a reckless nature, she didn’t know what was good for her.

He blew out the lantern and padded to his berth. He wouldn’t sleep, would hear every sound she made, and suffer an ache in his groin as his body argued with his mind to pick Arianna up and imprison her in his bed with him, but he should attempt to rest. He plopped on top of the covers. Lying on his back, he concentrated hard on the familiar creak of the ship, the whoosh of the wind filling the sails, the clang of the rigging and the slap of the waves breaking against the hull as a beautiful woman with blue eyes and blonde hair struggled to intrude.

Chapter Six

Arianna turned over on the feather mattress in her cheerful room decorated in blue and yellow and landed on the hard, wooden floor of a ship. Her eyes flew open in shock and alarm until she remembered what had happened and where she was. A groan escaped. Every muscle ached. Grabbing the side of the hammock to lean on as she rose, a wool blanket fell on top of her head. She yanked it off. Where had it come from? She hadn’t brought one with her and didn’t recall curling up in its softness before falling asleep. Of course, she had been so tired she didn’t remember much.

Except the kiss.

Why did he do it? They were arguing one moment and the next, his passionate lips attacked hers. She struggled to her feet. At first, his lips punished, but then they softened and caressed. And she liked it. Too much. He wasn’t as cold and unfeeling as she thought. His kiss and hands heated her and created a tingling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

How could she face him, the captain of this ship, after what happened?

Unfortunately, she had no choice.

Was it a plan to bring her under his control? All men believed women the weaker sex who needed guidance, but she refused to live by their foolish notions. Maybe he thought kisses and seduction the perfect weapons to change her mind about becoming a seaman.

Well, he was mistaken, and she’d prove him wrong.