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The Pirate and the Pagan

Page 28

by Virginia Henley


  He smiled. “Then you will like Madeira.” He added, “I hope you like French cuisine?”

  She nodded hesitantly.

  “Escargot—snails?” he asked.

  A look of horror came across her face and he relented immediately, his wonderful laugh rolling about the cabin. “Cat, I’m teasing you.” He handed her a goblet and clinked it with his own. “Let’s drink to a mutually enjoyable relationship.” Her lashes swept to her cheeks, but she touched her lips to the wine, acknowledging the toast.

  He smiled at her as she looked over the elegant table laid with damask linen and silver. “You choose. Will we do business first or dine?”

  “Why don’t I just open this jewel case so you can peruse the contents while we eat?” she suggested.

  He glanced once at the jewels, then fixed his eyes upon her where they remained throughout the meal. “Are they presents from admirers?” he asked casually.

  Her mouth curved into a wicked smile as she touched her neck. “These diamonds were a gift from the King!”

  He frowned for the first time and she laughed. “Now I’m teasing. They were a gift to Barbara Castlemaine. I won them from her fair and square at the card table. Well, perhaps not exactly fair and square.”

  He found it amusing that she cheated at cards and she thought to herself, My God, why can’t Ruark be like this?

  His eyes never strayed from her to the jewel case and she began to feel nervous. He is pretending disinterest so I’ll lower my price, she thought in a panic. But she was entirely wrong. He was all virile male and the vision before him lured him to taste her rose-colored lips. The frequent glimpse of legs clad in black silk stockings tempted him to part her skirt and run his hands over her thighs and then slip upward to caress her buttocks. But most of all he wanted to slide her gown from her shoulders to reveal the magnificent breasts he’d seen yesterday, and since that is what he wanted most, he decided that is what he would do.

  “Do you like peaches?” he inquired.

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  He took a silver fruit knife, peeled and quartered a succulent peach, then came around to her side of the table. He knelt down and held a piece of the fruit to her lips. She took it from his fingers, gingerly at first, in case she didn’t like the taste, then more boldly as she found out how delicious the fruit was. With the juice still upon her lips he bent forward and covered her mouth with his.

  Her mouth resisted instantly, but as he increased the firm pressure her mouth softened and yielded to the warm thrilling sensation. He lifted his mouth from hers only a fraction so he could murmur, “I wanted you to wear the frangipani for me.”

  Breathlessly she said, “I did wear it.”

  “I wanted you to wear only the frangipani for me.” His hands slid from her shoulders down her arms and carried the black lace gown down with them. Her breasts sprang from the confines of the neckline and he rolled his eyes heavenward in delighted appreciation of her charms. He chuckled in his throat, “Hellcat Helford, you have the most beautifully impudent breasts in the whole world; they cry out to be kissed.” Still kneeling before her, he put his hands beneath her armpits and pulled her down to him, then he laid her upon the rug and kissed her everywhere from her temples to her navel.

  “Please … no … Rory …” she gasped, having no will to struggle as she lay in his arms.

  “You need loving.” It was a statement of fact. He unclasped her necklace.

  “My diamonds,” she gasped.

  His mouth covered her throat where they had lain. “They are unworthy of you.”

  My God, what was it about this man that made her feel as if she was the most desirable, the most beautiful woman who ever breathed? “Rory, I can’t,” she protested.

  “I just want to look at you,” he soothed. His fingers unfastened the back of her gown and he took it from her slowly, inch by inch revealing her creamy flesh to his laughing eyes. She half believed that he would only look at her and go no further.

  He took off her black silk stockings, telling her she was far more beautiful nude than adorned in silk and diamonds. Indeed, all he allowed her to keep on was the frangipani. He even pulled off the tiny black patch from her cheek.

  He did nothing but look. His eyes caressed and made love to every pore of her body and she thought it the most intimate thing a man could ever do to a woman. She had a lot to learn. He sat back upon his heels and gazed at her body anew, then he stood and looked down upon her from his great height, studying her as if he wished to remember forever the picture she made. Then he reached down and drew her up to stand before him. He opened his robe and drew her inside.

  “Rory!” she gasped as if his flesh had burned her. Indeed her skin was so sensitive at this moment she wanted to scream each time his body came in contact with hers. “Please cover yourself,” she begged, “I cannot resist you and hate myself for it!”

  He laughed and fastened his robe. “Don’t hate yourself, sweet Cat. Take your pleasure where you find it—a man would.”

  “Oh, I know, Rory,” she said breathlessly. “I’m just not ready to be unfaithful to my husband yet.”

  He laughed softly and carried her to his inner bedroom. He laid her tenderly inside the flame-colored cocoon, spread her hair upon the pillows, and gazed down at her. When he reached down to touch her, her body jumped and he knew she was nearly mad with the need for him. His hands began to explore her body intimately and he said low, “You are trembling with need, darling.”

  She moved her head from side to side and moaned her denial. Rory’s eyes were stained almost black with passion. Since she would not let him make love to her with his body, he must do so with his mouth. She inflamed him with desire to the point where he felt enslaved. She was like a narcotic in his blood as he explored her slender body. He knew her breasts ached for his touch, and as his lips and tongue touched each rosebud she moaned in her throat at the exquisite pleasure he brought her. His mouth traveled over and over from breast to breast, then slowly traced down across her pretty belly until his mouth was buried in the black silken curls at the top of her thighs. He murmured against her hot center, “Beautiful, beautiful.”

  His words were like a love potion to her senses and she quivered with anticipation until his tongue touched her with exquisite torture. As he penetrated her with his burning tongue a sob of pleasure escaped and convulsively she reached for him, not knowing if she wished for much more or much less.

  Rory gave her no choice in the matter. His tongue explored thoroughly all the secret delights of her womanhood. His strong hands slipped beneath her bottom and he lifted her closer to his mouth so that his tongue could thrust deep inside her hidden softness. Every nerve in her body was centered where his mouth plunged with such sensual enjoyment. She panted and thrashed as wave after wave of incredible pleasure crashed over her until she screamed. Her very center jumped, exploded, then melted, leaving her unable to lift her heavy eyelids even to look at him.

  His body screamed for gratification, but his iron control would not allow him to ravish her. Soon enough she would consent to all his needs. She was well worth waiting for. She drifted off to a warm, magic place as if surrounded and protected by flame-colored swirling smoke. She knew not if it was paradise, heaven, or hell and she cared less.

  When she awoke much later, she was wrapped in his white robe. Her black gown and stockings were neatly laid beside her with a note which simply said, “I will bring you ten thousand pounds. R.H.”

  The blush would never leave her face again, she thought hotly as she remembered what he had done to her. True, she had not committed adultery, but what he had done seemed ten times more intimate than coitus.

  She put on her clothes quickly, grateful that his laughing eyes were not there to see inside her very soul. The ship was dark and silent as if all slept. She crept off the Phantom and found Ebony beneath the dark shadows of the trees.

  Her conscience and her dreams were filled with unrest, and when
she awoke early the next morning, she was angrier with herself than she had ever been in her life. She had come away from the pirate without jewels or money or clear conscience and she was consumed by an impotent rage that he had taken such complete advantage of her. She took out her pistol and weighed it in her hand. She would go down immediately and demand the return of her jewels. If he did not comply, she would shoot him!

  She ran up to the roof and eagerly scanned the river, but the Phantom was long gone. Her body demanded action. She rode Ebony with wild abandon, then she stopped at Roseland and on hands and knees weeded the whole vegetable and herb garden. By the time she was finished, she was hot and dirty, but she was not tired, nor had her anger at herself dissipated.

  She began to worry about her brother, even though she told herself repeatedly he could not go to London and back in under ten days. When her mind strayed to thoughts of her husband and his safety, it made her angrier than ever. It was absolutely no skin off her bottom if the King had sent him into danger. What in the name of hellfire did she care? He was going to rid himself of her and she would no longer be Lady Helford. But if he made her a widow, she would be Lady Helford forever. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek at the thought of harm coming to him and she dashed it away angrily with muddy fingers, leaving her face streaked and woebegone looking.

  She climbed down the cliff to the beach, stripped, and swam out about three hundred yards. How nice it would be to relax and just let herself drift away, then all her problems would be solved. Suddenly she was slapped in the face by a small wave. She swallowed a great gulp of salt water and gasped and spluttered for a few frantic minutes. A bit of a squall had come up suddenly and she had to stroke out strongly for shore. As she swam her determination hardened. She would survive her money troubles and her marital troubles. A woman’s lot in this world was by nature much harder than a man’s. She would use any means to beat them at their own game.

  The Helfords had certainly taken what they wanted from her, so she would do the same with an untroubled conscience, and if by chance she couldn’t get what she needed from the Helfords, why then there was always the King, a pushover for a pretty smile and a pretty pair of legs.

  Before Summer got into bed she slipped to her knees and prayed to St. Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes. She was not in the habit of bothering God and His apostles over everyday problems but she felt desperate. She feared that Black Jack Flash and her jewels were forever out of her reach, and if she listened carefully, the sound of his laughter could be heard mocking her gullibility.

  She sighed hopelessly and climbed into her lonely bed, hoping she would not have to again don the highwayman’s costume and take to the road. No sooner was she asleep than she dreamed of Ruark. He came to her as a supplicant, begging her forgiveness. He told her how very proud he had been of her efforts to entertain the King and the court. He confessed how he really felt about her, how much he had longed for her and missed her. He told her how deeply he loved her and how he could not live without her.

  She was in an agony of remorse. She was covered with guilt over his brother Rory and longed to confess all to her husband Ruark and be forgiven. But she knew exactly what would happen if she confided in him. His temper would flare out of control. He would do and say the most horrendous things to her and probably beat her to a jelly. She knew she loved Ruark and wanted him more than anything in the world, so she decided to keep her guilty secret. She suddenly felt him slip into bed with her and take her into his arms. She knew she had awakened from her dreams because this was better than any dream could ever be. His lips were against her ear, whispering, “Did you miss me?”

  “Oh, yes, I was afraid something terrible might happen to you.” Her arms twined about his neck and she lifted her mouth for his kisses. She clung to him possessively, her hands feeling the splendid muscles in his shoulders. “I was dreaming about you. I dreamed you came back to me and like magic you did.”

  His hands were sure on her breasts, her whole body, knowing all the secret places she longed to be touched, and she knew that no feeling on earth compared to his touch. He was so very tall that she could not kiss him and capture his shaft between her legs at the same time. She moved down his body until her cheek rested against the dark pelt of his chest and her tongue flicked out to taste his hard nipples. She arched her mons against him and immediately he nudged her thighs apart and thrust into her until she was filled with his hot, hard shaft.

  Her hands caressed his broad back then slipped down to his buttocks. He rolled with her from their sides until his hard length was on top of her and she felt the muscles of his body grow taut as he gathered the power of his body to fulfill its purpose. “Ruark, I love you so much,” she moaned against his chest.

  “Cat, sweetheart, it’s Rory,” he said in a low, intense voice.

  Her body contracted upon his so violently at his words that he cried out in a convulsive explosion and without any control over her own body she exploded the moment she felt his hot seed start. In the darkness her fingers trembled as they touched his face; she sought confirmation of his identity by running her fingers through his hair to search for the scar. The fine jagged line was barely perceptible, hidden beneath his long hair, but it confirmed her worst fears. “Rory, my God, what have you done?” she cried.

  “Fallen in love,” he murmured hoarsely, gathering her to him possessively. She hit out at him and struggled to light the candles.

  She stared at him unbelievingly as he sat naked in the bed. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  His laughing eyes caressed her face. “You knew the other night I hadn’t finished what I’d begun. I’m not nearly finished with you.” His gaze dropped to her breasts and he rolled his eyes heavenward as if giving thanks to the gods for such perfect wonders. He was the world’s most outrageous man and she longed to laugh with him. Amazingly she discovered she could not hate this man. He was a totally unscrupulous rogue, but every woman should be loved by a rogue at least once in her lifetime. All her anger was directed toward her husband, Ruark. Why hadn’t he come to her? Why wasn’t it he who had crept into her bed to make such passionate love to her? She threw on her bed gown and handed him his breeches. “You have just seduced me and you’re not even sorry for what you have done!”

  “Sorry? For making you purr, for making your body sing? I thought we agreed to be honest with each other … go on, tell me honestly that you are sorry.”

  “I’m sorry I ever met you … I’m sorry I ever met anyone named Helford!”

  He drew on his pants with great amusement. “Are you? Shall I keep the ten thousand pounds I brought you?”

  “Surely the jewels aren’t worth that much?” she asked.

  “Sweetheart, that’s not the point. You need ten thousand. If you asked me for fifty thousand, I’d get it for you,” he said simply.

  “Oh, Rory.” She bit her lip, wondering why she wanted to cry. “You can use the cellars at Roseland for cargo any time you have to,” she offered.

  “That’s most generous of you, Cat.” He sat down in a comfortable chair by the open window and stretched out his long legs. “Did you know the Dutch port of Stasia takes in a million pounds a year for warehouse space? The cargoes in these trading ports are beyond your wildest dreams,” he told her.

  “You sail into Dutch ports?” she asked doubtfully.

  He grinned. “I don’t fly the Union Jack, darling. My crew are all foreign, they come from every country in the world. The Phantom slips in and out virtually unnoticed, wherever she can make a profit.”

  “What kind of cargo do you carry?” she asked curiously.

  He laughed. “Not always what you might expect. Sometimes my cargo is human.”

  She puzzled on his words for a moment, then realized he smuggled spies. The question was, did he smuggle people in and out of Holland or in and out of England? She dared not ask.

  Suddenly he stood up and took her hands. “Come with me, Cat. Sail with me acr
oss to the continent. I’ll show you exotic places you never dreamed possible … warehouses piled with treasures from the East Indies … sun-drenched coasts with miles of white, surgary sand where we could swim naked.”

  For one breathtaking moment she was tempted. “It’s not possible, Rory.” She hesitated a moment. “There’s something I haven’t told you … Ruark said he was going to have our marriage annulled.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. His neck columns stood out strong and brown and his white teeth flashed in his face. “If he is mad enough to release you, you’re mine,” he claimed with authority. Then his head dipped and his mouth claimed hers in a demanding, sensual kiss that showed her exactly how susceptible she was to him. His lips traced a fiery path to her ear. “You will sail with me; it’s inevitable. You’ll love me, too,” he added with amusement. “In fact, I think you already do,” he added outrageously.

  “My windows and doors will be locked from now on,” she warned him.

  “It’s your heart you had better lock.” He winked and then he was gone, over her balcony.

  What in the name of God was the matter with her? She had just committed one of the most unpardonable sins a woman could ever commit. The guilt washed over her in waves. The trouble was that while Rory was close, she was under his spell, then when he left, she came to her senses and the realization of their sinful intimacy overwhelmed her. She prayed for forgiveness and swore an oath that she would never be intimate with him again. If her husband had their marriage annulled, then it would be another matter and she might someday consider accepting Rory’s love, but for the present she had to make him understand that nothing further must happen between them. She couldn’t change the past, but she must take responsibility for the future.

  At dawn she rode Ebony along the Helford River but there was no sign that any ship had ever been moored there. She spent long hours riding the beach each day and it was there she heard Spider call to her from the cliffs of Roseland. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Her happiness was extremely short-lived, however, as her brother imparted his news. “I’m sorry, Cat, I was too late. When Auntie Lil took me to see Solomon Storm, he told me he had already sold the mortgage on Roseland. He wouldn’t take the money, of course—he explained it would be up to the new owner whether he would redeem it for the twenty thousand owed or whether he would choose to keep Roseland. He warned me that the man would be a fool if he didn’t keep the estate. He gave me this sealed letter for you. I didn’t open it, though I was tempted.”

 

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