My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) (45 page)

“I’ve given up on that... for tonight.” Anne took a step closer. He was taller than she imagined when she saw him sitting. Over a head taller than she even while leaning against the tree.

“Oh?” Jamie lifted a brow. “So why are you here?”

Anne moved again till she was close enough to touch him if she chose, to smell him. “I wished to... to... She didn’t know how to say it but she hoped he could read her wishes in her movements.

He did nothing. Though she could barely make out his features in the dim light, Anne imagined his expression was one of amusement. Seduction was not an art she practiced. Straightening her shoulders Anne decided to force herself to attempt some of the things she’d seen in the tavern.

But before she could his arms wrapped around her and she was yanked against his hard, hot body. She didn’t expect anything so overpowering, so consuming, and without considering her plan she opened her mouth to scream. That’s when his head lowered and he caught her in a devouring kiss.

His tongue invaded her mouth and she tasted ale and something else, darker and more erotic than anything she’d ever known before. He was a pirate, crude and coarse, and she should have been repulsed by his touch, by his taste. Yet even as Anne pushed against the hot skin of his chest, trying to separate them, part of her wondered at the way he made her feel. The tingle in her toes. The weakness of her knees.

“No, please.” Anne angled her mouth away from his and tried to ignore the lips that now blazed a trail down the side of her neck. “Please stop. Stop!” Her tone held unmistakable panic.

Her words seemed to penetrate and he paused. Anne could feel the ragged gusts of his breath along the length of her jaw. Unbidden came the vision of the barmaid’s breasts where he’d kissed them, red and wet, and Anne’s own nipples, pressed against his naked chest seemed to swell with the memory.

And then he let her go. His arms dropped to his side and he leaned back again against the palm. “What ’tis it you want from me, wench?”

Anne sucked in air and tried to calm her racing heart. “The same that you want. It’s just that there’s no privacy here.” Anne swallowed. “I have a room on Bay Street. If we could go there...”

Anne couldn’t even finish saying what would happen if he accompanied her there. Everything she said sounded so false to her ears. But somehow he believed her lies. At least he appeared to. With a bow worthy of the finest gentleman he offered his arm.

Neither spoke during the short walk down the side street. All was dark when they reached the room she had let. It was on the ground level of Widow Perkin’s house, and Anne cautioned the captain to be quiet as they entered through the front door. He seemed to find nothing about her request unusual and managed to follow her to the small room without bumping into anything.

Once inside Anne struck the flint, lighting a candle and placed it on the table by the bed. She tried to keep her hands steady, but it was nearly impossible as she moved under the pirate captain’s steady gaze. She knew he watched her, could feel the heat of his stare, but it wasn’t until she glanced up meeting his eyes that she knew their intensity.

“I... this is it,” she said, feeling foolish and utterly unprepared for what she must do.

“So I see.” His stare didn’t waver, even when he folded his arms across his chest.

Anne tried a smile, then reached for the decanter beside the candle. “Would you care for something to drink? I’ve a fine Mader—”

“Nay, nothing.”

Disappointment and fear coursed through her body, though Anne tried not to show either. But when he spoke she couldn’t help her nervous jump.

“I must admit to a bit of surprise.”

“How so?” Anne stood awkwardly, wondering what to do next. Unlike on the street outside of the tavern the captain didn’t seem in any hurry.

“I expected...” His brow arched. “An impassioned plea for my help.”

“Is that what you wish? For if it is I can...” Anne’s voice trailed off as he stepped forward.

“’Tis not my desire.”

Anne’s heart pounded. “I thought not. You already made your position very clear.”

“Aye.” Jamie reached out to hook her chin with the tip of his finger, lifting her face toward his. “’Tis still the question of why you asked me here.”

Without looking down Anne reached for the laces of her bodice. He said nothing as she tugged on the bow with trembling fingers. His hand covered hers as the top of her corset yawned open. The heat of his palm warmed the curve of her flesh.

“Why are you doing this?” His words were as breathless as she felt.

Anne swallowed. “You find my desires surprising? What of that woman... those women in the tavern?”

“Ye are not like them.”

“You are so certain?” Anne slowly pulled her hand from beneath his. Now there was nothing between him and the swell of her breast. She prepared herself to bear the repulsion, surprised when it didn’t come. With her fingers she reached out, touching the hot skin at the base of his neck. “Perhaps all women are alike when it comes to you, Jamie MacQuaid.”

She expected the kiss, but not the fire that shot through her body. It left her unaware that he’d lifted one breast from her corset until the exquisite torture of his thumb became near unbearable.

“Please.” Anne pushed against him with the flat of her palm. His head lifted but his hand continued to circle the puckered tip of her nipple until she pointed toward the glass decanter. “I’m nearly parched. Some wine... please.”

She sank onto the bed when he reached for the bottle. There were two glasses beside the wine and she nearly wept with relief when he splashed amber liquid in both of them. The first he handed to her the second he drank as greedily as she wished to drink hers.

But she didn’t.

Before Anne could worry that he would notice he was on the bed beside her. She shoved the still full glass onto the table as he pushed her back onto pillow. His mouth covered her as easily as his body. The kiss was deep and searing and before it was over, Anne wasn’t certain which of them had been drugged.

* * * * * * * * *

written under the name:

Christine Elliott

The Captain’s Conquest,

written under the name:

Christine Dorsey

The Traitor’s Embrace

Southern Nights

Bold Rebel Love

The Captain’s Captive

The Rebel’s Kiss

Sea Fires

Sea of Desire

Sea of Temptation

Sea of Christmas Miracles
(novella)

My Savage Heart

My Seaswept Heart

My Heavenly Heart

Splendor

The Renegade

The Rebel

The Rogue

By the Book

Under His Spell
(novella)

The Way to a Man’s Heart
(novella)

A Bride’s Desire
(novella)

Christine Dorsey lives in Richmond, Virginia with her proof that there are “happily ever afters”, her husband of forty-four years, Chip. She has three grown children, a son and daughter-in-law, and four of the most delightful grandchildren imaginable... just ask her. She also has a Springer Spaniel puppy, Stella, who keeps the household more than lively. Besides her family and friends, reading, writing and love of the sea are her passions. The author of seventeen books and four novellas with more to come, Christine loves to share the stories and characters that had
Romantic Times Magazine
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