Pleasing the Pirate: A Loveswept Historical Romance (7 page)

Freckles
.

She had freckles everywhere, even the tops of her breasts.

Steam from the bath had warmed the room considerably, making it sultry, but Phin doubted his body was heated because of that. Her face was flushed peach. Damn but her entire body was flushed peach.

“I, uh …” He had no idea what he was going to say. His thoughts went south along with all of his blood. His cock was so hard he feared he’d split his skin.

The fire backlit her through the thin sheet, outlining the apex between her legs.
Holy Moses
, as Ezra would say.

He looked down at the garments in his hands and suddenly remembered his mission. “I brought clothes,” he managed, not at all sure how he forced the words through a throat closing up with a lust he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

She looked at the bundle he was holding. Large, loose curls fell over her shoulders, leaving wet spots on the sheet. Her nipples were erect and holy hell he wanted to touch them.

“Thank you,” she said. “I was loath to put on my gown again.”

He nodded, also loath to have her put on the gown. He’d never experienced this inability to speak before. His body was on fire. His blood pounded hot and sluggish through his veins, heating him from the inside out. He thought of her promise to him, of the payment he’d exacted from her. He should feel guilty for it, but at this moment guilt was the last thing on his mind. Unwrapping the sheet was the first and merely the beginning.

He took an involuntary step forward. Her wide, luminous eyes followed his movements. Good God above did she want him as much as he wanted her? The thought nearly buckled his knees.

She moved toward him. The sheet parted, revealing a creamy knee and a dainty foot. There were even freckles on her knees.

They stood an arm’s length away, the air between them heated by the bath and, he was entirely positive, by his thoughts as well. He couldn’t keep himself from touching her and neither did he want to. He skimmed his knuckles down her throat to the top of her breasts.

It seemed she’d stopped breathing. Hell,
he’d
stopped breathing.

“I wondered,” he said.

“You wondered?” She sounded breathless.

“If you had freckles everywhere.”

He lightly touched one just at the swell of her breasts, causing her chest to rise on a gasp.

“Yes.”

He quirked a brow. “Yes?”

“Yes. They’re every … where.”

He bit back a groan.

“I hate them,” she said.

“I love them.” Oh, how he loved them.

Raucous laughter from below snapped him out of the hunger that had taken hold of him.

He dropped his hand to his side and took a quick step back. He remembered that he was still holding Ezra’s clothing and he placed them on the stool beside the tub. “I’ll, uh, leave you to change then we’ll head downstairs to, uh …” Damn but he couldn’t remember what they were supposed to do.

She nodded, eyeing the clothing. “I won’t be long.”

He stepped toward the door, forcing himself to turn away from her. But the sight of her clothed only in that thin sheet would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Mairi’s skin burned where Phin’s knuckles had grazed it. The freckles she hated so much seemed to singe her. She touched the spot he had touched, her legs weak, her breathing a wee bit labored.

She had not expected this reaction to him; it disturbed her and excited her and confused her. God help her but she’d wanted him to touch her all over. And she’d wanted to touch him as well.

Sweet Mary and Joseph, what is wrong with you?

She looked down at the sheet encasing her and groaned.
He could see through the sheet
. He could see
everything
. Embarrassment, nay, mortification swept through her. Her ma would be so disappointed in her actions tonight.
She
was disappointed in her actions. She’d never acted like this, felt like this, wanted the things she wanted, ever.

And what a horrible time to be wanting and needing and yearning.

She snatched the garments he’d hastily placed on the stool. Frowning, she held out a pair of breeches and looked them up and down. This was not what she had in mind when Phin said he brought her clean clothes. She’d never worn breeches before. How did one even put on a pair of breeches?

She lowered the garment and looked at her wrinkled, damp gown flung carelessly on the floor. Most definitely she could not put that on again.

Well, nothing for it. She must do what needed to be done because she surely didn’t want to be caught in the sheet again. She stepped into the breeches and shimmied them over her thighs and hips. With nothing between her and the rough fabric she felt decadent and a wee bit uncomfortable. The seam rubbed a very sensitive spot. She attempted to adjust the fabric but it didn’t help.

Next she donned the shirt but discovered that without her stays her bosom was quite prominent. And the way the fabric rubbed against her nipples caused bolts of sensation to shoot through her and in turn caused them to stand erect.

No. This would not do. She could not go downstairs with her nipples in that condition. Every man down there would see.

She shrugged out of the shirt and donned her stays, grimacing because they were still damp from her near dunk in the ocean and now gray from days of wear. However, that wouldn’t do, either. She could now see the undergarment through the thin shirt.

Desperate, knowing Phin would walk in at any moment, she ripped it off, grabbed the sheet and with a silent apology to the proprietor, ripped the sheet into strips and bound her breasts. Ah, much better and the binding was much more comfortable than the stays. She could breathe and nothing poked her in awkward places.

Hurriedly she grabbed up her nasty gown and shoved it under the bed, not even wanting to know what forms of life lived under there. But neither did she want the gown—into which she’d sewn all of the money she possessed—in plain sight. She wished she could remove the money and stash it somewhere safer, but she didn’t have time.

Satisfied for now that she’d done the best she could, she walked to the door and suddenly stopped.

“Oh.” She took another step, then another and another, widening her stride with each step. Ooh, these breeches were comfortable. Yes, they still rubbed her in a most inappropriate manner, but the
freedom
, the lack of heavy skirts, of petticoats, was so liberating.

This would be so much better to wear when working out in the fields. Why did men keep this secret to themselves? She windmilled her arms and laughed softly at the exhilarating ease of movement.

Phin opened the door and stepped in. Mairi quickly dropped her arms and smiled sheepishly at him.

“When you said you’d brought clothing I didn’t expect this.” She plucked at the breeches and noticed that anyone could see the outline of her legs, not to mention her ankles.

Phin made a sound and swiped a hand down his face, cursing.

“Phin?”

“You are wondrous,” he whispered.

Her face heated in embarrassment and warmth. “ ’Tis nice of you to say even as I’m standing before you in men’s clothing.”

“No.
Because
you’re standing before me in men’s clothing.” He waved his hand in the air. “That didn’t sound right. I’m not attracted to men if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She smiled. “Well, I was wondering.”

“You were beautiful in just that damn sheet and now …” He made another strange, strangled sound and looked a wee bit bewildered. “I don’t know how I’m to keep you safe once we get downstairs.”

She smoothed the breeches over her hips. “I thought I was to look like a lad. Isn’t that the reason you gave me these clothes?”

“I gave you those clothes because I had no others. I didn’t have time to go into London and procure a gown for you. They’re Ezra’s.”

“Oh. Well, then. Please thank Ezra for me.”

He abruptly turned on his heel and reached for the door handle. “Let’s get you downstairs and try to find your brother.”

She moved to step around him, but Phin’s hand on her arm stayed her. They were so close she could smell his distinctive scent of fresh air and lemons. “Is something amiss?”

“This entire thing is amiss.” Then he kissed her.

Oh my. Any thought of pulling away fled as soon as his lips touched hers.

Ach, who was she kidding? There were no thoughts of pulling away. His lips were warm and soft, yet demanding at the same time. Her heart near to melted when his hands came up to reverently cup her face. She leaned into him, the breeches leaving less room between them than skirts and petticoats would have. She could feel every hard muscle against her, every ridge. Everything.

She sighed and put her all into that kiss, not wanting to miss one moment of it. Oh, but he was good at what he did.

Then suddenly he pulled away and his hands dropped to his side. He stared at her, his chest rising and falling as if he’d run a long distance.

“Let’s go,” he growled, and opened the door.

Mairi stood there uncertainly, still submerged in the kiss that he so cavalierly dismissed.

Find your brother, you ninny. That’s what you’re here for
.

As soon as she found Grant and convinced him to return home with her she would be well rid of Phin Lockwood. And good riddance. The nerve of him, kissing her like that. Except she couldn’t summon the righteous anger expected of her. Not when her lips still tingled and her body still burned.

She hurried down the steps in front of him. Mayhap, if luck was on her side, she’d
encounter Grant tonight and be done with all of this.

And then I won’t have to sleep with Phin
.

And yet, there was a wee bit of disappointment in that thought. Daft, she was. Completely daft. She didn’t want to sleep with Phin. She’d made the deal only because she was desperate to find her brother. That was all.

The main room was quite a bit more crowded than it had been a few hours ago. People stood at the bar; the tables were filled. The noise was near to overwhelming. Men’s voices rose and fell; a few arguments came from various places throughout.

Phin put his hand at her waist. Reassured by his touch, she leaned into it, forgetting for the moment that she should be peeved with him for kissing her in such a way.

He guided her to a table where a lone man sat and pulled a chair out for her. She attempted to smooth her skirts and remembered she wasn’t wearing skirts, which made her all the more uncomfortable.

Men from other tables stared at her in interest, starting at the breeches and stopping at her bosom. She had to force herself to keep from folding her arms over her chest and sinking down into her chair. A moment ago this seemed like a grand idea, but she was beginning to rethink that.

“Sebastian. Good of you to come.” Phin nodded to the man sitting on his right.

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” the man drawled. He studied her with cold blue eyes.

“Miss Mairi McFadden,” Phin said as a curt way of introduction while waving his hand in her direction.

“Miss McFadden. My pleasure.” He had the clipped tones of the nobility and that made her even more uncomfortable. He was fair to look at with piercing blue eyes and black-as-night hair. There were laugh lines around his eyes that made her think he was older than Phin.

Phin motioned for a serving girl to bring him an ale.

“Any luck with the other mission?” Phin asked.

“None,” Sebastian said.

The serving woman brought the ale and plunked it down so hard, Mairi had to rear back to keep it from spilling on her. The woman smiled thinly with a touch of evil tossed in.

“Mairi?”

She twisted around at the familiar Scot’s voice behind her.

“Connor?” She stood on suddenly shaking legs, bracing herself on the back of her chair.

Connor. Her brother’s closest friend, who she hadn’t seen in years. A clan member in the midst of all these Englishmen seemed heaven-sent.

“What in bloody hell are you doing here?” Surprise wouldn’t even begin to describe his expression. Stunned would be a better term. She flung her arms around him, squeezing tight. Oh, it felt so good to see someone she knew.

He pushed her away from him. “What are you doing here, Mairi?”

“I need to find Grant. Do you know where he is?”

Connor looked around, his expression suddenly frightened. His gaze landed on Phin, who was watching the exchange closely. Sebastian merely appeared to be amused.

“No. I don’t know where Grant is.” He took Mairi’s arm and pulled her a few feet away to lean close. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t be asking after Grant. ’Tis not safe.”

“I need to speak to him. Please, Connor, take me to him.” She glanced at Phin. His lips were pressed together and his eyes bored into Connor with a dangerous glint.

“It isn’t safe here,” Connor said. “You must go back to Scotland.”

“I can’t. Not until I find Grant. I’m safe. I have … people … watching out for me, but I can’t stay long. I
need
to speak to him, Connor. Take me to him.”

Connor shot Phin an uneasy glance. “I don’t know where he is.”

But he did. She saw it in his eyes, in the way he shifted from foot to foot and the frantic, frightened glances he shot toward Phin and Sebastian. If they hadn’t been present, Connor would have taken her to Grant, she just knew it.

She grabbed Connor’s arm and pulled him farther from the two men at the table. “Take me to him, Connor.”

“Absolutely not. You have no idea what danger you’re in, lass.”

Ah, so he did know where Grant was. Excitement and relief surged through her. “I must speak to him. Our clan depends on it.”

“There is no clan, Mairi. They’re all gone. Dead at the hands of the”—he looked over at Phin—
“English.”

“ ’Tis not true. There are still some and more who have come to us for aid. I can’t do this alone. We need our laird.”

Connor stepped back, his expression fierce. “There is no laird. The
English
made sure of it.” He darted a venomous glare at Phin and Sebastian, before turning to her and whispering urgently, “Get out of England, lass, as soon as you can. Go back to Scotland where you will be safe.”