by Eliza Knight
“Did ye share one with Douglas?”
“Nay, but—” She stopped herself before she told him exactly why she’d never shared one with her previous husband, and not because they were noble—but because they were not lovers. Well, she wasn’t going to be Shaw’s lover, either, but she’d assumed that was only known to her. Was it possible that he…? She shook her head refusing to read more into it.
He was a pirate.
Anything he did would likely not make sense to her.
“This is your chamber. A place ye can seek refuge, dress, and whatever else it is that ladies do. I did not say this was where ye’d sleep.”
And there it was.
“Where shall I sleep?”
He jerked his head toward a wide oak door. “There. Come.”
She didn’t so much as follow him but was tugged along. He opened the door leading to an equally impressive and overly masculine bedchamber. Fit for a prince, and as lush as any pirate might love. There were massive wooden furnishings, fur coverlets, velvet, silks. Leather lined benches and chairs.
“Your chamber.” She knew but needed confirmation.
“Aye.” His eyes glittered on the bed, and when he turned back to her, they had darkened with passion.
Jane backed toward her chamber and watched a slow grin curl on his lips. “We will sleep here tonight, before we leave in the morning to find your Alexander.”
“He is not my Alexander.”
Shaw reached for her, stroking the side of her face with the backs of his fingers. “Aye, ye are no man’s but mine.”
She nodded, a warmth growing in the pit of her belly at the possession he had over her. That same spark of yearning that he’d ignited on the beach in Iona.
“Tell me, love, where are we going?”
For a moment, she’d forgotten what they were talking about. It was hard to regain her wits given he was stroking her skin so softly and making her think of kissing, making her think of being pressed deep into the thick mattress.
Somehow finding her tongue, she said, “He is in England.”
Shaw jerked backward, a fierce frown darkening his face. “What?”
“The last place Livingstone could find him.” She gave an apologetic smile.
Her pirate groaned. “Hell itself.”
Jane shrugged with a little laugh. “If ye think it so, then aye.”
“Where in England?” Shaw sauntered to a sideboard and poured her a glass of wine.
She accepted the goblet, their fingers brushing and sending a fresh frisson up her arm and through her chest, making her nipples harden. Saints! Could she not touch him without having such a visceral reaction? “London.”
“Bloody hell.” Shaw drained his own glass in one long swallow. “How are we supposed to get him there?”
Jane shrugged. This part of her plan, she’d not yet contemplated. “Ye’re a pirate. Can ye not figure it out?”
He bared his teeth in irritation and poured another round.
“Perhaps I could send for him?” she offered.
Shaw stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he thought over that suggestion. “Aye, that could work.”
“All right, I shall do it.”
“We will set sail and deliver the message when we arrive.” He ran his hands through his hair. “My men will not like it. We’ll have to make an arrangement with Poseidon’s Legion.”
“Who are they?”
“The English brethren. We’ve ties to them. If we dinna make an arrangement, they’ll attack us when we enter their waters.”
“Their waters? Are ye not all pirates? Can ye not enter any water ye please? Is that not the nature of your business?” She’d not realized there were so many rules about being a pirate.
Shaw chuckled. “If only, lass. We may be pirates, but we’ve a code.”
“What will ye offer them?”
Shaw shook his head. “Gold. Dammit, nay. That willna be good enough. Trésor Cove. ’Tis a pirate town north of Calais, a series of connected caves they’ve turned into a world of their own. The captain of Poseidon’s Legion wants control of it, and I’ve been putting off helping him in gaining it.”
“I’m sorry.” Jane wrung her hands, realizing he was having to give up much in order to help her.
Shaw shook his head. “Dinna worry over it, lass. ’Tis how alliances are made. Besides, the alliance I made with Constantine was in hopes that we’d someday control the majority of the ports in Europe.”
“How many ports are there?”
“Several in every country.”
“Oh.” An unimaginable number.
“Come on. Let us go below stairs. The men will be arriving.”
In the great hall, as Shaw had expected, the room was filled with pirates reveling in the return of their brethren, and all curious about the woman their prince had taken as a wife. It was rare for a pirate to wed, let alone a prince. Having a family was dangerous. Made a man weak.
“Our Savage Prince has returned,” shouted Jack. All in the room went down on their knee.
Shaw ordered the men to take a seat, and it was then she noticed how the great hall was set up. Instead of separate tables, there were many long far-reaching tables connected to form a circle around a centered raised dais with a massive round table. There were strategically placed breaks in the outer tables to allow entry into the center, where Shaw led her now.
It was amazing the way it was set up. So inclusive, rather than the prince looking down on everyone.
“We’ve a new treasure to unearth,” Shaw called out to his men. “One that will change the tides of all our fortunes.”
The men slammed their fists on the table in excitement.
“On the morrow, we set sail for England.”
The slamming stopped, and the men gaped at him as though he’d grown a second head. “My wife, your mistress, has given to us the greatest treasure in all of Scotland. We just have to go to England to get it.”
“And meet with Poseidon’s Legion,” Thor called out.
“Aye.”
“What will ye give them in return for allowing ye safe passage?” Kelly asked.
“The French port.”
The men grumbled at that, for they hated working with the English, but they also hated the brutal French pirates more. Shaw grinned. “I didna say we had to let Poseidon’s Legion keep the French port for infinity, lads. Once we’ve gotten our treasure from England, we can set sail for Trésor Cove and give them a run for their gold coin.”
The men all shouted their agreement, and then the room erupted with glee as Kelly leapt from his spot and began to dance a jig on the table. Lachlan tossed daggers at Kelly’s feet, and she flinched each time the pointed end sunk into the wood. Thor looked on with a stoicism she found eerie, and beside her, Shaw looked on with pride.
Jane couldn’t help but smile at the gathering of men and women, the jubilation, the sheer merriment. The pirate life certainly was different from that at court.
Beneath the table, Shaw squeezed her leg, and when she glanced at him, his pride was directed at her.
Chapter Seven
As the men feasted and drank, sang and danced, the hours ticked by quickly. Jane was a silent observer, smiling, taking it all in. She’d even stood up to dance with him. Shaw watched his wife’s eyes droop beside him. And then they’d closed altogether.
He waited for her to wake up, to startle when Thor pulled out his pipes and began to play, but if anything, she fell into a deeper slumber. In fact, he’d never seen anyone sleep so well in his life. Often, he’d heard the phrase slept like a bairn, but he’d not been around any bairns to know what that meant. But he would assume from now on that this was exactly what it meant. And the thought made him smile. Sweet Jane with a sensual kiss.
So he carried her upstairs to his chamber and laid her on the bed. Blond locks lay flat out on the pillow, creamy skin glowing in the hearth light. Triton’s trident, she was beautiful. Delicate, and y
et he knew just how strong she had to be to have gone through what she had. A surge of protectiveness crowded in his chest. Stroking his fingers across her forehead, he moved the hair away from her face and bent down to brush his lips in the same spot. She still smelled delicious.
As much as he wanted her, he wasn’t going to wake her tonight. He wanted her fully awake when he took her for the first time. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t sleep together, which meant he had to undress her. He might be a pirate, but he didn’t sully his bed linens with shoes or the clothes he’d worn that day.
Shaw lifted the hem of her gown to find her boots. Their soles were still covered in a dusting of sand. He unlaced them and slid them off, keeping an eye on her. She let out a sigh but did not stir otherwise. He unrolled her hose next, gritting his teeth as he touched the silky length of her long, curvy legs. Next, he managed to remove her gown. The threadbare, thin-as-air chemise had seen better days. Anger suddenly pierced through his fog of desire. A woman like her shouldn’t have to wear undergarments that were obviously in bad condition. He wanted to rip the offending fabric off her body. But he stopped at the laces of her chemise. While he slept in the nude, she likely did not. Well, not yet. His wife would definitely sleep in the nude soon, though. Besides that, she would likely give him hell for taking all of her clothes off.
With a grin, he tucked her under the blankets, still amazed that all through his ministrations, she’d not moved.
Hours later, the moon high and dawn still some time away, he lay there in bed, stiff as a board, and unable to sleep at all. Arms tucked up beneath his head, he stared at the canopy, nostrils flared, tormented by her sweet feminine scent. Every soft sigh and whisper of movement on the sheets made him groan.
And just when he thought the agony couldn’t get any worse, his tempting wife curled up on her side, her chemise riding up over her thighs and her hips, which wouldn’t be a problem, except that her naked arse was now pressed up to his hip, branding him. If he dared to roll onto his side to face her, that raging part of himself would be pressed to the very heat of her.
Shaw ground his teeth, working hard to count the threads in the canopy overhead—a near impossible feat given the limited light.
Just the thought of touching her, of feeling her glistening warmth on his skin, had lust coursing through him at a rapid pace.
Shaw wanted her. Wanted her with a desperation he’d felt for no woman, with an intensity that threatened to make him go mad, to make him forget everything, including his duties, his code.
Feelings like that were not good for a man. And they were dangerous for a pirate.
His life was constantly on the line. His men’s lives were constantly on the line. And now her life would be more on the line than it had been already. Just by being linked to him, she now had every enemy that had ever passed a threat his way hanging over her. Ballocks. Livingstone was nothing compared to some of the blackguards he’d dealt with.
Even more dangerous was the fact that he couldn’t seem to control himself when he was around her. Any attention paid to a woman beyond what pleasures she could give him in bed was a weakness. Left him vulnerable. Hadn’t he been down this road before, starting as a lad with his own mother?
Aye, Jane was bad for him.
But he couldn’t let her go, because he needed her to get to the treasure. Needed her…period.
This lust that he felt, he needed to slake it, be done with it and get her out of his mind, else he’d put his entire brethren in danger.
And what was more important—the safety of his entire fleet, his randy clan of Highland pirates, or giving in to that small plea of hers to leave her be? She was his wife. He’d bound himself to her in front of his crew.
A wife’s duty was to satisfy her husband.
Well, Shaw was in serious need of satisfying.
As if she could hear his thoughts, Jane wriggled her bottom closer to him, rubbing her feet against his calves.
Perhaps he was not the only one with desires that needed to be sated. It’d been five years since she’d been married, not that he thought her marriage to a boy would have left her satisfied in the least. But he could.
He rolled to his side, feeling the heat of her silky bottom slide over his turgid shaft. A shudder passed through him. Slipping his arm around her waist, he tugged her back. Her belly was soft, flat, and he could feel the silky undersides of her breasts pressed to the back of his hand. He let out a groan, and to his surprise, Jane answered with a lusty whimper, arching her back into him.
“Jane,” he whispered into her ear as he pressed his rigid cock tight to her lush backside. “I want ye.”
She let out a gasp, jerking her head back and hitting him hard in the chin, causing him to bite the tip of his tongue. Pain seared, and he had a moment of impaired vision.
“Blast!” he ground out, tasting metallic.
Jane flew from the bed, standing right in the stream of silver light from the narrow windows. She whirled around to glare down at him. Her blond locks waved wildly about her head, and if he hadn’t been certain Medusa lay dead at the bottom of the sea, he might have been convinced his wife was the fiery monster herself.
“What are ye doing?” Her voice was full of surprise as she gaped down at her threadbare chemise. The silver glow of the moon shone through the fabric and gave him the perfect view of her curvy, alluring figure.
Propping his head up on his bent arm, he patted the mattress. “Making love to my wife.”
“How dare ye undress me without my permission?” Jane wrapped her arms around herself, skin flushed.
“Ye were sleeping, lass.”
“And ye thought to make love to a sleeping woman? Is that the way pirates are?” She shivered, no doubt chilled out of bed. He liked to keep the room cool, and thus had pulled back the coverings from all four windows.
Shaw chuckled, amused by her outrage. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was a virgin bride and no marriage to William had ever transpired. “Ye were not asleep when I touched ye. Ye moaned, arched against me. Ye like my touch.”
She shook her head vehemently, those blond locks waving wildly. “I did no such thing.”
Shaw leapt from the bed to advance on her, stalking. “I beg to differ.”
“Are ye calling me a liar?” She swept her gaze over his naked body, fully exposed in the moonlight.
“Aye, ye’re a liar, Jane. Ye want me. I can tell by the way ye kiss me. By the way ye press your arse up against me, even in your sleep.”
“Ah-ha!” She uncrossed her arms to point at him, and he got a clear view of pink, taut nipples beneath the sheer fabric. “Ye see, I was asleep.”
God, she was every man’s dream. “Ye were asleep until ye were not.”
She frowned, re-crossing her arms when she took note of his gaze. “Ye’re trying to trick me.”
“Trick ye? I just want to lie with ye. Ye’re my wife.”
Jane shook her head, biting her lip. “’Twas only a handfast.”
“Good in the eyes of all.”
“Ye’re a pirate.” She pouted.
He wanted to bite those lips, to take them between his teeth and suck. “And ye’re a dead woman, lass.”
She had no answer to that, but her lower lip trembled, and he thought she might be very close to tears. Well, that wouldn’t do.
“Dinna cry, love. I’ll keep ye safe.”
“I never cry.” She stared at the bed. “I also never sleep.” She turned a frown back on him. “Did ye put a drought in my wine?”
Shaw raised a brow at that. “Ye think I’d resort to drugging my wife just so I can lie with her?” He shook his head. “Love, if there is one thing I’m not lacking in, its women willing to fill my bed.”
Her eyes widened as though he’d just revealed some great idea. “So, why do ye not go lie with one of them?”
“Because. I’m married to ye. ”
She shrugged as though that made little difference. “Husbands
are not always faithful to their wives. And pirates are notorious liars.”
Shaw stalked closer. “I should be offended at all the accusations ye keep tossing my way, lass.”
“I am not trying to offend. Merely stating facts.”
“Calling me a liar and philanderer. What else do ye think of me?” He was only a couple feet away from her now, and her eyes kept darting from his face to the space between his hips that jutted toward her like a battering ram. Her furtive, curious glances only made him harder. God, he wanted her.
“Big. Ye’re very big.” She licked her lips, changing the subject. “Tall, I mean. And broad.”
“We’ll fit, if that’s what ye’re worried about.” There was only a foot of space between them now. He stepped closer, half a foot, and then closed the distance, bringing his hands to her elbows, gently touching her as he gazed down into her blue eyes. “I know ye had a lad afore, lass, but let me show ye what its like to be with a man.”
“A man…” She breathed out the words, barely audible, and a shudder passed through her. But it wasn’t one of disgust, because her nipples had pebbled hard against him, and she was staring at his mouth.
“Aye.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.
Jane stiffened against him, arms rigid, mouth clamped closed. But that didn’t stop him, and she wasn’t saying nay just yet. He slid his mouth over hers, soft at first and then more firmly, running the backs of his fingers up and down her arms. With every breath, her rigidity softened until she was sinking into him and sighing, parting her lips.
Though he wanted to plunge his tongue deep inside her mouth, he waited, teasing her, until it was she who was first to slide the tip of her wet, velvet tongue over his lips.
Bloody hell, it was tantalizing torment, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to lift her up, find the nearest piece of furniture to leverage her against and swiftly plunge deep.
But the more she kissed him, the more he wanted. He ran his hand up over her ribs, cupping a breast at the same time as he clutched her bottom and lifted her enough to press his hard length against the apex of her thighs. She gasped into his mouth, clutched his arms, but she didn’t push him away. A brush of his thumb over her nipple had them both groaning. Shaw slanted his mouth over hers and let her have it, claiming her in a heated, carnal kiss that told her all he wanted to do with her, just not in words.