by Mary Martin
"You take my breath away with your beauty." His voice was soft and husky, his hands so erotic as they gently stroked her breasts.
Starlin shuddered when his thumb began a slow circle around each aroused peak. Her back arched, bringing her body up against his. Whenever he was near like this, she could find no way to resist him. He was a master of seduction, and she his willing slave. Yet this was her decision. She knew if she but whispered one word of protest that he would stop. But she did not wish him to draw away. She wanted him—all of him— and was trembling from the force of her emotions. As always, he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. There was no need of words, or questions, only eyes that met and understood.
His mouth plummeted down upon hers, invading the trembling fullness of her lips, tongue seeking, conquering. Their wet bodies melded and clung, their hands eager to caress and please. Passion rose higher than the waves that tossed the sea, drawing them into a blaze of ecstatic delight, setting their battered hearts free from stormy waters for just a while, and drawing them into each other in fiery passion. They had denied themselves this closeness for so long in anger and pride that they were consumed by their need.
Mindlessly, Starlin writhed against his seeking hands, ensnared by the hot, heady desire that swept through her. The sensitive peaks of her breasts grew taut beneath the sureness of his fingers. He rolled the eager "bu6s beVwetn fmgtt ttftA Vrvvmfc tm& SV&v& fe\. searing flames lick deliciously between her legs. His lips trailed along her cheek, her chin, nipped lightly at the graceful curve of her neck, tasting of her silken splendor before moving downward to take a quivering peak in his mouth.
Fires that raged turned liquid and white-hot as they rushed through her body. She groaned down deep in her throat and attempted to shield her most vulnerable place as his hand dipped lower, caressed her trembling fingers.
Starlin bit into her lip as his hand moved over hers. His mouth hovered inches above hers, those alluring jade eyes glittering in the moonlight like diamonds ablaze. Her gaze met his and held, then widened as she realized his intention. His hand encompassed her own, began a devastating motion that pressed her flesh against herself. A spasm of hungry desire surged through her and her knees almost buckled from the intensity of it. Suddenly, with a low, keen cry she tore free of him and shielded herself from him.
"I am frightened of the way I feel. . . the things that you can make me do so easily." Her voice shook. He reached out for her and she attempted to shrink away, only to feel the hard surface of the wheel at her naked back and knew that there was really no place to run. Her eyelids fluttered closed.
"Don't deny me now, love." His fingers gently pried her crossed wrists apart, long fingers stroking her wet sleekness. "You're warm and eager," he whispered huskily, "and you want me to take you now—here. Tell" me, Starlin. Say the words."
She was gasping for breath, and ready to do anything just to obtain that wonderful starburst of ecstasy that he was leading her toward. "Yes! Yes, I want you so badly I hurt from it!" she said.
She felt the smoothness of teak press into her spine and struggled only briefly. His hands urged her legs apart and his mouth traced a path of fire over her cheek, nipped gently the throbbing points below her ear, making her blood sing through her veins. He cupped her slender buttocks with one hand and brought her to him.
Without further protest her arms went about his wide shoulders, slim fingers skimming over sleek bronzed skin—perfection, she thought, except for a long saber scar that curved down his spine. He groaned as his pulsing need was slowly encased in hot flesh. Smooth slim legs wrapped about his as hips melded and thrashed, their rhythmic thrusts increasing fevered desire.
The wheel was their mainstay, an aid to trembling legs that were weak with wanting and threatened to fold beneath them. Sounds drifted on ocean breezes and were soothing to the senses. A night bird calling to its mate, the wind playful in the rigging, and their throaty whispers of passion, soft and husky, all blended as one.
Starlin felt his hands slip around her to cushion her spine against the hard wood as his body moved so beautifully against hers. He was everything that a woman could want in a lover, she thought. He was all strength and rippling muscle, a steellike body with a touch of velvet in his fingertips. But his ardent words she could not listen to ... for she knew they were only whispers of desire. The only truth between them was the intense passion that held them spellbound.
Slowly, he teased, thrusting in and out, drawing her ever closer, then faster, deeper, making her want to match his hard driving rhythm, hips arching wantonly in pace with his. She was moaning softly, a primal sound of lusty pleasure that lured him ever closer to that final crest of pleasure. Exquisite agony held him suspended, then melted into liquid heat, pulsing through his body to every one of his nerve endings. He felt her nails digging into his back, her heels into the hardness of his buttocks, and lost himself completely within her burning heat.
Starlin was glorious in her uninhibited passion. Every part of her clung to him, moved with him, and sought the same sweet release. At last, it came . .. bursting upon her, a maelstrom sweeping through her, filling her, consuming her, and when it was over, leaving her feeling strangely bereft.
He was quietly holding her, his own passion sated, his breathing ragged.
"Did I hurt youT'
His soft words brought her plunging back into the real world. She was surprised that he appeared content to hold her against him, and, indeed, was supporting her entire body against the length of his.
Reluctantly, Starlin moved out of the circle of his arms. "No."
Rayne felt her withdraw from him. With that one word, she was all ice once again.
His hand reached for hers. She eluded it. "Don't turn away from me, Starlin," he ordered brusquely.
"Another command, milord husband?" she returned sharper than intended.
Before she could protest he'd swept her up into his arms and was making toward the stairs. "God's wounds, if you persist, I swear that I will bind your mouth this time instead of your eyes."
Starlin stiffened in indignation, but she did not open her mouth.
Upon reaching the tiny cabin, Morgan deposited her on the bunk, and when she made no move to scoot over and share it with him, slipped a hand beneath her rump and made room for himself. He stretched out beside her and casually drew the covers up around them both.
"Sleep well," he said pleasantly. After a contented sigh, he turned over and presented his back to her. He grunted upon feeling a finger poking his ribs.
"Are you going to sleep. . . here, with me?" she asked, surprised.
He rolled over. One tawny brow arched and a glittering emerald eye fixed upon the lovely vision leaning over him. "Do you object?"
"I... just thought that perhaps you would seek other quarters now that you are ..." Her words trailed off upon realizing what she had been about to say.
"Done with you," he finished for her.
"I wasn't going to put it quite so bluntly."
"Say what you mean." He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. "That way there's no reason for anyone to misunderstand your intentions."
At that moment she was glad she had stifled any passionate endearments.
"I can't sleep with another person," she blurted, "I... I've never had to before."
"Well, you have to now," he shot back, "unless you'd prefer to sleep on the floor. Sweet dreams, Princess. And try not to lie there too long thinking of ways to get even with me. Daybreak comes early out here. We'll be setting sail."
There was total silence, and then Starlin could contain herself no longer.
"To where?"
"You have to know absolutely everything, don't you?"
"When it concerns my welfare, yes," she returned, unruffled by his gruffness. Shapely calves entwined about his rock-hard ones and left him short of breath and suddenly very wide awake.
Starlin never ceased to amaze him. Any other woman would have sailed to the
ends of the earth with him, and have asked no questions. Just accepted her place in his life. But this one ... He glanced over at her—she was of an entirely different mind and spirit. He sat up, folding his arms across his knees.
"I think I'll take you to Antare."
Starlin was shocked. "The island ... in the Tri-angler
"You'll be welcome. And I did promise your grandfather that I would take you somewhere safe."
"For how long?'
"I can't answer that. I have business to attend to elsewhere. You'll stay until I return."
"Business?"
"Something I have been neglecting of late."
Starlin went cold inside. She did not even feel him enfold her fingers within his and gently caress them.
Was he going to abandon her on some godforsaken island and leave her thece forever? Was this the plan he'd been discussing with his mistress in the gazebo? He could return to England without fear of exposure and even proclaim her dead, lost at sea in a tragic accident. Not if she could help it, she vowed. He could find physical satisfaction with any woman. She was a fool if she thought for a minute that he felt anything more for her.
"I must know something, Rayne."
"Must we continue talking?' He moved to kiss her shoulder.
"Yes." Starlin drew back from him.
He frowned. "Don't push too hard, Starlin," he warned quietly. "My business is my own. I realize you are accustomed to meddling in your grandfather's affairs, but you will not stick that pretty nose of yours into mine."
"There is something you should know before you follow through with your plans for me," she said quietly.
"I'm waiting," he said tightly.
She swallowed. "I know, Rayne . . . everything."
He was still and silent. Starlin forced herself to continue.
"I heard you talking with Lady Ellendale in the gazebo. But I warn you, if I should mysteriously disappear your diary will be exposed."
His eyes hardened until they were almost black. "Susan Ellendale has nothing to do with my taking you to Antare. As for the diary, you must not have read very much of it, or you'd know there is nothing in it to link Scorpio with Rayne Morgan." He leaned forward slowly, his face inches from Starlin's. "I'm not that stupid, my dear."
She turned her face away. Was there no way to best this man?
He appeared to have read her thoughts.
"I'm leaving you on the island for your safety, Starlin. There's been trouble in the Keys. Many of my friends are being forced out of business. The mayor is an old friend. I've offered to help, and he has accepted." He made no mention of the rumors abounding that the pirate Scorpio and his crew were the very ones accused of the evil deeds, and that he was going to Key West primarily to settle an old score.
He could not tell her that he would seek out Benton Cambridge for their final confrontation. And after? What would he do with Starlin then? He pushed the thought aside.
"I have this feeling that you won't be coming back," Starlin said.
Rayne lay back on the mattress and flung one arm behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. "You have to admit you've given me enough reason not to return."
Starlin moved away from him. Immediately he reached a hand toward her. "Enough! Come here," he said huskily.
Starlin saw that he was of no mind to talk further, and despite her firm vow, found she could not refuse him. The pleasure he gave her with his body was like a drug to her senses. She allowed him to pull her down beside him and mold her pliant form against his. She could forget everything when he held her like this. Thoughts of future nights almost made her smile. Until she realized they didn't have a future.
Rayne was given to wonder, even as he held her with a fierce possessiveness against him, why thoughts of honor and revenge hadn't been nagging at him so much of late. Starlin stirred beside him, nuzzled her head beneath his chin. A tentative but bold finger traced the taut line of his flank, the hard ridges of his belly, then dipped with a feather-light touch to tantalize him with stroking motions. He writhed and arched against her seeking hands, and thinking became impossible. Starlin—beautiful, passionate, as fresh and innocent as the new morn, yet, when it suited her, unpredictable and luring as the darkest shadows of night.
Her mouth, when it sought his, was burning with passion and eager to please. He rolled over her and caught her roughly against him. Almost desperately, he made love to her once again.
She gave him so much that night, and so unselfishly, that he reconfirmed in his mind what he already knew. To keep the fires of revenge burning, he had to put distance between himself and Starlin. He could not. allow it to continue.
Sunbeams, warm upon her face and scented by the sea, teased lazy-lidded eyes open slowly, a delicate hand lifting to shield their violet depths. Lazily, Starlin rolled over and stretched sleek limbs. She lowered her hand. Her gaze swung to the open porthole where a hint of blue sky and clean, crisp air beckoned.
Rayne was not beside her, but then she had known that instantly, even before she'd opened her eyes. They had slept closely throughout the early morning hours, their bare limbs entwined intimately, covers draped in an unconcerned tangle about them. She'd first awakened several hours ago when he'd slipped out of bed. When he'd seen her regarding him through barely slitted eyes, he'd leaned over and kissed her, telling her not to get up just yet, that he would see the schooner underway, that she should sleep in.
He'd idly laced his fingers in her hair and had drawn her against him. The cover had fallen away, her bare breasts pressed against his broad chest. The kiss had deepened, become demanding and searching. And even though she'd been exhausted, her body had instinctively responded. Her slender form had arched upward into his arms. He made love to her with abandon. And she returned the same.
Starlin smiled dreamily and sighed with contentment. This seductive pull of forces between them was something she could no longer deny, or hope to banish. His lovemaking thrilled her in a way she had never thought possible. It was absolutely wonderful, beautiful beyond the physical sense.
She had only one thought as she rose in one lithe movement to drape the sheet about her and pad with bare feet toward the aft hatch. A sense of peace had settled within her.
Starlin passed through the hatch opening to stand for several minutes blinking in the bright sun. The day loomed large and spectacularly before her.
The sky was a bright blue and the sun warm, glistening off the brass fittings of the craft and drawing her eyes to an image reflected there. Rayne, his back to her, a wavering symmetry in motion standing before the massive wheel.
The magnificent vessel was skimming lightly over
the waves with the breeze, the hull slicing cleanly through soaring waves on a straightforward course with its only master at the helm.
Starlin's breath seemed to catch somewhere in the region of her throat as her gaze shifted, riveted now on his tall, bold form, the long lean muscles playing beneath that sun-browned back. His hair accepted the playful wind's caress, the thick tawny-streaked mane like spun gold in the sunlight, and a flutter of butterfly motions erupted in her stomach. She stood motionless clutching the thin cover to her breast. She kept reminding herself as she looked at him, that this man would never love her. Willing to accept that for now, she trod lightly across the cool teak deck to stand behind him.
He didn't acknowledge her presense. Tentatively, she reached out one hand to run her fingers along the jagged saber scar on his back. It surprised her to feel sorrow because of it. Lord, but she'd never guessed passion could make one feel this peculiar inside.
"How do you feel this morning?' he asked, eyes still fixed on the water before him.
"A bit light-headed from lack of sleep."
He half turned to meet her eyes. "But it was worth it, wasn't it?' he teased.
She thought he looked so different this morning. No longer did he appear the English lord, but more pirate once again. The dark breeches he wore were dampened by
sea spray and clung to every masculine inch of him. Turned-down jack boots encased his lower legs. The night they first met came back to her. Her pulse raced. She sought something in his gaze to reassure her. He gave her nothing. Starlin sighed inwardly. There was that same savage light and restless desire in the emerald gaze.
"Yes, it was," she replied a bit breathlessly.
He held out a hand to her. Starlin came eagerly to him. His lower arms were glistening with droplets of water. She laid her head back against his chest and felt the sway of his body against hers. There was something about the way he moved that could convey what he was thinking and feeling to her. A sort of language, she thought, and smiled, knowing that they certainly had that. She had learned the meaning of it last night.
"Are you hungry?' he asked.
"Starved."
"Can you boil water?"
She tilted her face upward to meet his eyes. "And if I couldn't?'
He brushed back a silken tendril of her flowing hair that had caught in the wind and wafted about his cheek. "I suppose I'd have to let you man the helm while I went below and fixed us some breakfast." His smile was devastating.
"I can manage a few things," she admitted, matching his smile and noticing the fires deep within his gaze flare as he watched her.
He patted her bottom. "Good. For I could use something hot right now." His hand lingered, caressed.
Starlin resettled against his solid frame. "I would have thought after last night.. . that you might wish something a bit cooler this morning," came her suggestive voice in his ear.
Rayne nudged her toward the aft hatch. "You are a lusty wench, Lady Morgan."
"We're a perfect match I'd say," Starlin moved away from him, her hips swaying provocatively beneath the thin cover.
"Be about your task before you brew up something more here than just a cup of tea," Rayne stated with a wicked gleam in his eyes.