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Rogue Pirates Bride

Page 34

by Shana Galen

taste his neck, to trail her tongue over the stubble on

  his jaw.

  “Mon coeur,” he murmured.

  Her heart stuttered. Did he mean it, or was it

  simply an endearment? Something said in the heat of

  this moment?

  It didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

  She lifted her head. “I’m going to need my hands.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I’m ordering you not to move.”

  “Yes, Captain.” He was grinning, amused by her,

  but when she scraped her teeth along his shoulder

  and down his chest, she heard his quick inhalation

  of breath. She ran her fingers over the muscles of his

  chest. She was reminded he might be an aristocrat, but

  he hadn’t lived the life of one. He was hard as steel, and

  his muscles tensed and rippled under her fingertips. She

  looked up at him, saw he was watching her as she was

  watching him. She let him see her while she admired

  his broad shoulder, his sculpted chest, his slim hips.

  And then her eyes slid lower.

  “Now what, Captain?” His tone was too easy, too

  light. She lowered her mouth to his erection, touched

  her tongue to him.

  “More of this?” she asked.

  “You’re the captain.”

  She smiled. His voice had been hoarse and strained.

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  She touched her tongue to him again, ran it up

  and down the length of him. When she looked up

  again, his hands were clutching the pillow. He saw

  her looking at him, reached for her, but she held up a

  hand. “I didn’t say you could move.”

  “Raeven—”

  “Shh.” She bent again, this time taking him into

  her mouth. She heard his groan as she tasted him,

  felt him tense beneath her. She teased him, liking the

  control, knowing he was on the fringe of losing his.

  “Raeven!” His hands clutched her shoulders.

  She looked up, shook her head. “I didn’t say—”

  “I need to be inside you. Now. Take me or I’ll—”

  She didn’t wait for him to finish. She straddled him,

  lowered herself slowly over his hardness, and took him

  inside her.

  She had wanted their lovemaking to be passionate

  but playful, but now when she looked down at him,

  she couldn’t keep her emotions in check. Her heart

  swelled as she moved over him. He cupped her neck,

  brought her lips to his for a tender kiss. She returned

  it and allowed him to reverse their positions.

  He moved slowly, gently, taking his time. He kissed

  her sweetly, and she had to swallow to keep the tears

  from spilling over.

  When she found release, it was slow and warm. She

  sighed her pleasure, and he sighed with her.

  He held her a long time—their bodies pressed

  together, their hearts beating together. Just when she

  felt his arms relax, felt him fall into sleep, he whis-

  pered, “Raeven.”

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  He woke alone. He was not in the room he’d been

  given. That room had been dark and masculine in

  color and décor. This room was much smaller and

  brighter. The walls were papered in yellow and the

  windows covered by white and yellow curtains. He

  lay in a small brass bed, the white coverlet tangled

  about his feet.

  Bastien sat, looked about the small room, and knew

  she was gone.

  He didn’t need to see her clothes missing. He didn’t

  need to ask the staff if she’d gone down for breakfast.

  He didn’t need to search for her in the garden or the

  library or any of the other rooms.

  She was gone.

  He felt her absence and could have cursed himself

  for not seeing this coming. She’d been different last

  night, and now he realized it was more than fatigue

  or eagerness to be with him again. She’d been

  saying good-bye.

  “Merde.” He sat just as her door opened and a maid

  stepped inside.

  “Good morning, Miss Russell—oh!” She gaped at

  his nakedness and hastily backed up. “I’m sorry. I’ll

  come back.”

  “Don’t bother,” Bastien growled. “She’s gone.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The maid closed the door, and

  Bastien pulled on his breeches and shirt and stalked

  out of the room.

  Julien met him in the hallway, rolled his eyes. “You

  might try being discreet. This isn’t a pirate ship.”

  “I wish it were. It’s harder to escape.”

  “Escape? Who’s escaped?”

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  “Raeven. She’s gone.”

  “I see.”

  Bastien brushed past him. “No, you don’t. I need

  to go after her. I’m going—”

  “Nowhere.” Julien grabbed his shoulder, held him

  fast. “It’s going to take several days to negotiate with

  the navy, and until then, you’re by no means safe

  from Newgate. If word leaks that Captain…” He

  paused, looked about. “That you are here, the public

  will clamor for your execution. You have quite the

  reputation for harassment of British ships.”

  “Exaggeration. One or two skirmishes with the

  British Navy, and everyone’s out for your neck.”

  “Yes, well, yours isn’t safe yet. You’re not going

  anywhere until I say you can.”

  “Oh, really?” Fury welled inside him, aimed more

  at himself than his brother, but Julien was standing

  there. “I’ll go when and where I want.”

  Julien crossed his arms. “Fine. But don’t come

  back here.”

  Bastien blinked.

  “You think this is just about you? You’ve been on

  your own so long, you don’t consider anyone else.

  Your being here puts me, ma mére, your whole family

  in jeopardy. Armand and Felicity will be here soon.

  You endanger them, as well.”

  Bastien scowled. “If I’m so dangerous, why the hell

  did you bring me here?”

  “You’re my brother. But I have a wife and child

  to protect. The Foreign Office would like nothing

  more than to find reason to accuse me of treason,

  spying. They’ve tried it before. These negotiations

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  with the navy are delicate and need to be kept from

  public scrutiny. I’ll undertake them, and I’ll win, but

  I need you to give me time before you show yourself

  in public again.”

  Bastien fisted his hands. “And Raeven?”

  “She left you.” The implication was clear. For the

  first time, Bastien felt himself doubting. Perhaps she

  didn’t love him. Perhaps she’d saved him only out of

  guilt. She’d lost Percy and couldn’t bear the responsi-

  bility of losing another pe
rson she cared about.

  He knew where she was. She’d gone back to her

  father, back to the Regal. And wasn’t that where

  she belonged?

  The hell if it was.

  “I’m going after her, Julien,” Bastien said. “So

  you’d better hurry those negotiations.”

  Julien looked grim. “I’ll do my best.”

  Bastien nodded. He’d give his brother two days,

  and then he’d go get Raeven. He only hoped he

  wasn’t too late.

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  Twenty

  Raeven stood on the deck of the regal and

  watched the men ready the ship for departure. They’d

  been docked for a week, and she’d spent six nights

  without Bastien.

  Six long, lonely nights.

  And he hadn’t come for her. She hadn’t really

  expected him to come, but that didn’t mean she

  hadn’t hoped, hadn’t longed, hadn’t wished on every

  measly star she could spot in this hazy-skied city. And

  the reality was Bastien wasn’t coming. He had his

  family now, had his title, and soon would probably

  have a rich, titled wife.

  A marquise. Yesterday she’d asked Fitzwilliam

  Wimberley for the title of the wife of a marquis, and

  he’d given her a strange look and then the answer.

  She didn’t care if he gave her a thousand strange

  looks. She didn’t care if the whole crew watched

  her with sideways glances. She knew she was just

  standing on the deck, not doing anything, not

  helping as she always did. She knew she was red

  nosed from crying. She knew she was clutching her

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  stupid skirts to keep them from tangling about her

  ankles in the wind.

  Why had she worn a skirt or brushed her hair? It

  wasn’t as though anyone cared what she looked like.

  A warm hand settled on her shoulder, and she spun

  around with a yelp. Her father tightened his grip to

  calm her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s my fault. I was thinking of something else.”

  “You were thinking of him. The pirate.”

  “No, I…” She looked down at the deck. “Yes,

  I was.”

  Her father nodded, seemed resigned. He studied

  the men on the yardarms. “I was surprised when

  you returned the day after we docked. I thought you

  might run away with him. I certainly made sure you

  had the opportunity.”

  Raeven gaped. “You thought I would—what do

  you mean you made certain I had the opportunity?”

  “He should have had an escort to Newgate of at

  least six soldiers. I detained four of them. I didn’t think

  even you, Raeven, could outwit six soldiers.”

  She stared at him, and when he looked down at

  her, he laughed at the bewildered expression on her

  face. “But why would you do that? Why would you

  help when you knew I might run away with him?”

  The admiral sighed, shook his head. “Because, dear

  daughter, you love him. He makes you happy. God’s

  nightgown, it pains me to admit it! You and a pirate. A

  rogue!” He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

  Raeven was relieved when his color returned to

  normal and he didn’t begin coughing. He’d been

  coughing too much lately.

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  “But you’re not my little girl anymore. You love

  him, and as difficult as this is for you to believe, I do

  want you to be happy.”

  The admiral had never been a man to show much

  affection, especially in front of his crew, but now

  Raeven wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Daddy!

  Thank you.” She buried her face in his blue coat. It

  smelled like him—oakum, boot polish, and the sea.

  He stiffened at her sudden embrace then awkwardly

  put his arms about her. Finally, she released him, stood

  back, and gave him a teary smile. “But you’re not going

  to lose me to a pirate. He’s found his family again. He’s

  home where he belongs.” She looked about the Regal.

  “So am I.”

  Her father shook his head. “You’ll always have

  a home here, but this ship is no place for a young

  woman. You need a husband, children.”

  She was shaking her head, but he ignored her.

  “Earlier this week, I asked for a few months leave

  from my post.”

  Raeven blinked in surprise. “You what? Why?”

  “I wanted to spend some time with you on land.

  See you settled.”

  “And your health—”

  “Is fine.” He waved away her concern. “But my

  request was denied. It seems the seas are heating up

  again. The Admiralty doesn’t think this peace with

  Old Boney will last much longer.”

  Raeven nodded. She was glad. Battles and action

  would keep her mind off Bastien.

  “And that’s why I’ve hired a new purser.”

  Raeven sucked in a breath. She’d known this was

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  coming, known one day a replacement for Percy

  would be found. She would be forced to accept her

  friend was never coming back. She cleared her throat.

  “Who is he?”

  He nodded to someone who stood behind her, and

  she turned and looked into cobalt blue eyes. Bastien,

  wearing navy dress, saluted her. She stared at him,

  turned to her father, and stuttered, “What is this?”

  The admiral shook his head. “It’s exactly what it

  looks like. He came here this morning, asking for your

  hand in matrimony.”

  “What?” She turned to stare at Bastien, who only

  shrugged.

  “I told the rogue no, of course. I’m not giving my

  blessing to any bloody pirate.”

  “And I told him I’m not a pirate anymore.” The

  sound of Bastien’s voice, the lilt of his accent, washed

  over her. It was years since she’d last heard his voice.

  “I’ve joined the navy. I knew you were in need of

  a purser.”

  Raeven shook her head. “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “No.” Her father looked tense. “I have orders from

  the Admiralty to accept him for Mr. Williams’s posi-

  tion. Apparently, money can buy more than freedom.”

  “It’s not just my brother’s money,” Bastien argued.

  “I am an excellent seaman.”

  Raeven simply stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  He looked her directly in the eyes. “I am very

  serious. I have signed on as purser on the HMS Regal.

  I know I can’t ever hope to replace Mr. Williams, but

  I will carry out his duties to the best of my abilities.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Why would you do this?”

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  He cocked a
brow. “Why else, ma belle? You left

  me. I figured I would have to come to you. I asked

  for your hand in marriage, but your father refused to

  give his consent.”

  The admiral cleared his throat. “But I would not

  be overly dismayed if you married against my wishes.”

  “It would mean abandoning my post,” Bastien

  drawled.

  “I think we will find a way to make do.”

  Raeven’s head was spinning, and her heart thudded

  in her chest. “I don’t understand,” she told Bastien.

  “You have your family now, your title, your—”

  He took her hand, and the admiral muttered under

  his breath and moved away. “But I don’t have you,

  mon coeur. I need you, mon amour. Without you, the

  rest is meaningless. I want you to be my wife.”

  His wife. “Your marquise,” she whispered.

  He grinned. “Yes, that’s right.”

  She shook her head. “But I don’t know anything

  about being a marquise. I don’t know anything about

  ducs and mansions and fancy balls.”

  “Then we’ll learn together. Or, better yet, we’ll

  build a ship and sail it around the world. I think you

  and I would suffocate if we were confined on land

  too long.”

  He was right, and she could imagine sailing the

  world with him. Just the two of them, making love

  under the stars…

  “But you don’t want to marry me…”

  He sighed. “Are you going to force me to bend a

  knee? Again? Very well.”

  And to her astonishment, he knelt before her. This

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  gesture generated calls from the Regal’s crew, most of

  whom had given up all pretense of working and were

  openly watching the scene. Bastien ignored them.

  “Raeven Russell, will you be my Mrs. Cutlass, my

  marquise, my petite cabin girl…”

  She frowned and looked away. He took her hand

  in his, and when she looked back, his eyes were dark,

  his expression tender. “My heart, my love, my wife?

  Raeven, will you have me, a so-called pirate and a

  self-confessed rogue, as your husband?”

  She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She

  couldn’t stand. She knelt beside him and wrapped her

  arms around him. “Bastien, I love you.”

  “Je t’aime, ma belle. I love you.” He pulled back,

  held her by the shoulders. “But you haven’t answered

  the question, and I confess I’m eager to know if I’ll be

  forced to wear this uniform much longer.”

  She laughed. “No. I mean, yes, I’ll marry you,

 

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