by Mary Martin
Being driven by an inner purpose he chose not to identify, Rayne Morgan moved from the shadows to where the raven-haired beauty lay sleeping.
Something warm and infinitely sensual brushed lightly across Starlin's palm ... the soft flesh of her wrist. She sighed with intense pleasure.
Something smooth, and ever so intoxicating, caressed her cheek ... the tip of her earlobe. The scent of sea wind and lime tantalized her senses. She came awake with a start, eyes wide.
He was there beside her, the savage brilliance of those cynical green eyes making her shiver. Her gaze strayed to his slightly aquiline nose, downward to the mocking slant of his full mouth. Slowly his lips descended to the throbbing pulse in her throat. She caught her breath. His head came up and she saw the look of undisguised triumph in his eyes.
Starlin wanted to fight him, longed to slap his face for taking such outrageous liberties with her. But she remembered that other time ... and how quickly he'd changed from gentle, wooing lover, his actions becoming brutal and unfeeling.
His lips curved upward in a half smile.
"You mustn't look as if you fear being gobbled up, little innocent. I don't intend to do so." Long brown fingers reached out to caress her lips. "Let your fear go, Starlin."
"You do not frighten me," she shot back defiantly.
His smile turned wickedly charming. He appeared able to see into the very depths of her soul and draw her to him. Moving swiftly across her deepest thoughts, he was all-consuming, dominant, feral. Fifes were stoked within her. His hands upon her skin were gentle, yet strong and sure, awakening familiar feelings that were so overwhelming, and, indeed, frightening. As her smoke-violet eyes met the heated jade of his, she discerned no mocking laughter in their depths, only passion, undisguised and wanting.
With a small cry, she attempted to roll free of him. "No—leave me alone!"
He caught her easily, grappling to hold her still. Starlin fought wildly. Arms and legs tangled. He flipped her onto her back and held her shoulders firmly against the straw-littered floor. Passion glittered in his eyes. They lingered on the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as he lowered his body over hers.
Starlin could not take her eyes off him. She stared wide-eyed as he raised his hand, one long finger tracing a feather-light path down her cheek, along the slim column of her throat. Realizing his intention, she knocked his hand aside.
With a soft snarl he grasped her chin between his finger and thumb and held her head still. He studied her for a moment, then his lips closed demandingly over hers. All thought of anything but his desire to make love to her left him. Revenge, hate, his need to take her without passion—he forgot it all.
Starlin did not know when she stopped fighting him. She only knew that his lips and tongue were weaving a sensual spell on her reasoning and that it was the most stimulating sensation she had ever experienced in her life. She moaned deep down in her throat and responded to his teasing motions. Her lips parted, welcoming the taste of him upon her tongue. Warmth began low in her abdomen, radiated outward, and soothed shocked nerve endings. With effortless ease, he unlaced her gown, the ribbons on her chemise, and gently cupped her full breast. His mouth left hers to trail downward and capture a sweet nipple between his teeth.
Her hips seemed to move in involuntary reaction to the feel of his hardness where it pressed between her legs. Starlin felt a whisper of cool air play softly across her skin and was vaguely aware that he was removing her gown, then her underthings. She lay naked beneath him. His fingers grew bolder. He stroked her until she was open and ready, her will crumbled; murmuring unintelligible things near her ear that were welcomed, soothing to her startled senses.
Slowly, she relaxed and gave herself up to the wonderful feelings coursing through her. He kissed her there between her legs, tonguing her hungrily, possessively. She tried to close her legs to the wild uncontrollable feelings making her twist and arch her hips. He pushed her thighs wide apart, fingers filling her. Then he was naked, poised above her. She closed her eyes. It was hard and hot as fire, searing into her, claiming her as no man had ever dared. His lips stilled her cry of protest, his hands her trembling, and before long, she was moving as one with him. He made love with abandon, as, she sensed, he did everything. Long, slow, delicious strokes that increased in fervor drew her
along on a tide of exquisite pleasure. Her nails raked his back with wild abandon and his muscles quivered in response. They surrendered all to passion until the fires were appeased.
"We can never do this again," she stated in a hushed voice when they were standing and he was helping her to dress. She was still feeling dazed.
He was lacing her gown. He didn't respond immediately. He was thinking how innocent she was, and how she did not realize the mysteries or the powerful lure of physical desire. But in remembering how she'd fought him with the fierce determination of a spirited tigress, he knew she was not innocent of any other emotions. She had pride, and until now, an indomitable spirit. It would not be easy to break her, but he had little doubt that in the end he would. She was the best of the Cambridge lot so far, and he was certain she would give him a battle unequaled by any of her predecessors. He almost wished Cambridge blood did not flow in her veins. It was a pity to have to destroy the fire that burned so brightly within her. He turned her in his arms.
"And if I should choose otherwise?' he asked softly.
Starlin was feeling half-mesmerized by stormy green eyes that would not allow her to look away. "You do not deny being a pirate, nor even seem to care that I remember your alliance with those other smugglers. Aren't you the least bit afraid that I might then choose to reveal your ... other activities?"
His fingers wound into her hair, arching her throat. He viewed her with lazy indifference. "And send me to the gallows ... is that what you mean, milady?'
Nothing in her dreams of him had prepared her for the man who was here now, in the flesh. His hand around her throat, so gentle but still threatening, reminded her of the uncertainty of her situation. "Do you not fear death?'
His voice mocked her. "Death is a game. And I have managed to cheat it so far. Tonight, I find life more daring."
"You . .. should let me go .. ." And firmer still. "Let me go—now."
"You don't really mean that," he said with a teasing grin.
His tone was like a slap in the face. He appeared so damned smug. She'd been a fool to allow her emotions to overtake her reasoning. "I mean it," she stated heatedly.
"Shall I prove differently?' he responded. She had no time in which to protest before his lips slanted across hers. The feel of him, the scent and heat of him were devastating to her reason. This man was so unlike any other that she'd known! Raw power emanated from his body to hers. She tore her mouth free of his, breathed raggedly beneath his piercing stare. What was behind that untamed look of his that could make her weak with wanting at just one glance, one searing kiss?
"This will not happen again," she said firmly.
"By the look in your eyes now, I think that you believe that. Do you also plan to shout to all of London that Lord Morgan is a lecherous pirate who robbed milady of her most precious gift?' he asked easily, grinning sardonically.
Starlin's eyes narrowed. "I just might—and from
every rooftop!"
"Revenge, sweet?" he drawled. Ignoring her flashing eyes, he suddenly released her. His smile hardened, became cold and calculating. "Should I tag along with you to make it easier for you." He paused. "I might, you know—and then stand back and watch while everyone laughs at your accusation."
She stiffened. "Damn you," she said slowly from between clenched teeth, so filled with humiliating anger that she felt like crying.
"You know, as I do, that your declaring Lord Rayne Morgan a pirate leader will only prompt raised eyebrows and snide whispers behind your back." He felt no regret at his harsh words and even took a measure of satisfaction at the truthful acknowledgment visible in her eyes. "No one will bel
ieve that, coming from you of all people. I am titled and greatly respected among the peerage, and can easily prove your accusations absurd." He bowed mockingly before meeting her gaze with a steely look. "While you, milady, are thought of. . ."
"What you are taking such delight in pointing out to me, is that my outspokenness is against me," she cut in tartly. "You bastard! I knew I was right about you from the beginning!"
"Which one of us are you referring to... the lecherous pirate, or the titled lord?" he asked teasingly.
Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "I find both of you despicable! And why I allow you near me I do not know."
"Because nothing you do, can keep me from you," he stated matter of factly.
Watching him closely now, she knew that this man could slip easily from one culture to the other, and fit any mold that he wished. Some overpowering aura seemed to surround him. It made him all the more dangerous, for one could never really discern the true character of such a man, or his actual intentions.
"Are you cutthroat or titled lord? Tell me, which role are you playing now?" she inquired tersely.
"You decide ... which suits you?"
"Fie! Nothing about either of you suits me. You are both impossible!"
His long fingers closed over hers. "And you are an equally impossible woman. We are a perfect match, I'd say."
Reluctantly, Starlin permitted him to draw her nearer. He held her so possessively. She stared up at his dark face. "Your bold implication that I will become your mistress shall never come to pass. What took place tonight was not something I wanted. It will not happen again."
Her words did not appear to bother him. There was a strange glitter in those emerald eyes. "Don't make promises you won't be able to keep, love."
Starlin felt the awesome lure of him in every thought and action, yet refused to yield. "Oh, but this one I will," she swore with a narrowed glare.
"You can't fight me. I intend to have you whenever I so choose."
She bristled at his insulting tone. "You may fool everyone else, but not me, Morgan. Your accent and your clothes are that of a gentleman, but your arrogance certainly leaves much to be desired. Why is that? Too long keeping company with thieves and murderers?"
Morgan smiled in cynical amusement. "Am I not
forgiven one small mistake?"
She spun away from him and sprinted forward. He only laughed, and caught her to him. An unwanted breathlessness seized Starlin. "Why do you want someone who despises everything abou.t you?"
"Because . .. even though you refuse to admit it, you and I are very much alike . . . tonight went far to prove that."
She laughed contemptuously. "There is nothing about us that could be similar."
He brushed the back of his hand lightly across her cheek. It was an intimate gesture that unnerved her. "Shall I refresh your memory a bit."
She turned her head. "I will resist your every effort." Yet even as she said the words, she knew how hollow they sounded.
He placed an arm on either side of her, palms resting flat on top the rails. "Sweet liar," he whispered huskily.
She breathed a little faster when she felt him draw closer. He lowered his lips to hers, no other part of him touching her, just that wonderful, persuasive mouth moving slowly, drawing away the last defense.
Starlin did not realize that she had moved to entwine her arms around his neck and draw him near, or that her body had molded itself to every masculine inch of him. Heady passion burst forth within her. She quivered when she felt his lips trail a path across her cheek and down to her throat, where he lightly tongued the throbbing pulse to life.
It was a gloriously maddening sensation, but she fought against it. She would never allow him to seduce her again! She pressed her mouth against his shoulder and bit down in an effort to suppress a groan.
Morgan felt her sharp little teeth sink into the hard muscle of his forearm, yet barely flinched. The feel of her, the scent and taste of her sent his emotions reeling.
Starlin slipped further into passion's lure, and caught between a strange sense of terror and exquisite ecstasy, found it impossible to resist. It took the sputtering of the lantern overhead to send her hurtling out of his arms. My God, had she been about to let him make love to her again? What kind of woman was she?
He raised his head, and found he was breathing as rapidly as she was. A current of tension flowed between them, still held them transfixed with each other. The light of awareness shone in her eyes once more. They were narrowed and smoldering, their slightly tilted corners giving her an all-knowing, sultry look that made him begin to wonder just who was seducing whom. Breasts heaving, hair loose and tumbling down around her shoulders, she faced him like a woman who knew exactly how to please a man, and was prepared to do just that. He knew he would never find peace until his need for revenge was sated and this woman put far from his thoughts. A range of troubled emotions added a husky quality to his voice when he spoke.
"You see ... we have much in commdh."
"I don't know what it is about you, above all other men, that enables you to sense what I feel, how I'll react, even before I do myself. But,. I know now, that you do ... don't you?"
He stared back at her through heavy-lidded eyes. "I think that you should go back to the house before I'm tempted to take you away from here with me. He raked his fingers through his tawny-gold hair, wondering why in the hell he should not do just that. Take her away, his inner self goaded. His face appeared grimly set as he glanced up at her. Perhaps the time was just not right yet. And seeing that she hadn't moved, growled, "Go—now! For once listen to someone who knows a bit more than you. Get out of here while you still can, foolish girl."
Starlin stiffened at the sudden change in his manner and the caustic clip to his words. He was such an arrogant, self-assured bastard that he thought all he had to do was crook his finger this way and that and she would jump each time he snarled. "A command or plea?" she stated sneeringly, glaring at him now.
"Whichever suits you," he replied with a shrug of wide shoulders. "It makes no difference, just leave me now."
"I will not take orders from you," Starlin said disdainfully before turning away.
"Women of your nature need a man to tell them what to do," he drawled.
Starlin spun around, face flaming. "What do you mean? women of my nature?"
"Willful, headstrong, and at times, easily led. Need I make it any plainer, sweet?"
Outraged, she flew at him, raised her hand to slap the mocking grin off of his face, only to cry out painfully when he smoothly caught her hand in his.
"Don't." One word. Yet it echoed like a gunshot within her head.
"Release me," she managed to grind out from between clenched teeth.
"I don't think you would like what would happen next if you should persist," he warned tersely.
Starlin wiggled her imprisoned wrist, her eyes meeting his defiantly. "Why doesn't the threat of physical violence from you surprise me?" To her wide-eyed disbelief, he grinned charmingly.
"I might remind you that I'm not the one who instigated it—this time." .
"You are despicable, Morgan," she said Harshly, her eyes alive with fury, "and you'll always be!"
"In that, at least, I must agree," he replied coolly. "One of my lesser faults, I might add." He dropped her wrist and stood raking her with those all-knowing eyes.
She rubbed her throbbing wrist. "I have no desire to ever again be soiled by your touch. And if you persist in pursuing me, I will most certainly see that you live to regret it." She saw a muscle in his lean jaw tighten at her sharp words, and for a long second they stared at each other without moving.
"You bluff well," he drawled at last, "but your threat sounds hollow."
Their eyes met and held.
"Don't ever underestimate me, Morgan," Starlin gritted.
"You've never truly forgotten me, Starlin. Do you think that after what transpired between us tonight that it will now be any e
asier. It won't."
"We'll just see!" she cried, storming toward the door.
"Yes ... we will at that." His easy mocking laughter followed her from the stable and prompted her to slam the stable door soundly.
Starlin sat in front of her vanity watching her maid Mindy gather up the combing cape and brush. It was quiet throughout the house, not a sound or person could be heard. The fire in the hearth crackled cheerily, and she should "have been anticipating her bed after such an eventful night, but she was not. Her fingers drummed upon the glass top of the vanity, and the devoted Mindy, thinking her charge impatient to be abed, quickly offered an apology.
"I'm sorry for not 'aving everything ready for you, milady, 'owever, I expected you 'ours sooner, and I must 'ave dozed off waiting. I only woke up when you came in." The woman glanced at the clock on the marble mantel. "Tis almost dawn," she mentioned pointedly. "You must 'ave been dancing up a storm to 'ave be this late."
Starlin stared after the woman as she offered up the cape for her charge to slip over her dressing gown. "You know full well the soir6e ended several hours ago, Mindy." Starlin threaded her arms through the cape sleeves and allowed the servant to secure it at the throat.
"Oh. .. but I was sleeping, I guess, and did not know that at all." She began removing the pins from Starlin's hair. "So, you took a long walk, hmmm?"
Starlin stared at her through the looking glass. "No—I did not take a long walk, if you must know," she huffed at the woman. She was accustomed to Mindy's affectionate concern, for the woman had been looking after her since she had come from Key West. "I went to the stable."
Mindy's fingers plucked several telltale strands of straw from Starlin's thick mane. "By yourself, no doubt," she said drolly, before applying the brush to her mistress's long hair.
"And just what are you referring to?" Starlin contemplated her maid narrowly.