by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
Kate's breath caught at the feel of Sam's hands on her breasts. Her skin was slick and cool, his palms were warm. He rubbed his thumbs across her nipples in short, hard, demanding strokes, then clamped his hands at her sides and lifted her to his mouth.
The rush of pleasure made Kate dizzy. She had been near exhaustion mere moments ago, but now her body sparked with renewed energy. She was alive. And she was through running away from life. Never again would she hide from her passion. She arched her back and flattened her palms against the low ceiling of the cabin, pressing her breast more firmly into Sam's kiss.
His chest rumbled with approval. He circled her nipple with his tongue, his cheeks flexing as he drew on her. She hooked her legs around his waist and urged him on with sharp, wordless sounds.
The cabin rocked as the boat rode a wave. Sam staggered, his back crashing into a bulkhead. He slid to the floor with her on his lap, her legs still wrapped around him. She tunneled her fingers into his hair and caught his lower lip between her teeth.
She felt as if she couldn't get close enough. Every one of her senses was reeling with delight as she tasted, touched and smelled. It was the same as it used to be, this rush of desire. And yet it was different. Better. Necessary.
She stroked his back and felt the ripple of hard muscle under his damp skin. She spread her fingers possessively, rediscovering the ridges and dips she'd once known so well. And once again, she felt as if she were coming home.
Sam slipped his hand between them and rubbed his knuckles against the juncture of her thighs.
Kate cried out at the intimate contact. It was right. It was as natural as following the lightning for her first gasp of air.
Their wet clothes were hell to remove. Sam wasn't gentle as he peeled her pants and underwear down her legs and tossed her on the bunk. Neither was she when she lowered his zipper and reached for him. She bit his shoulder to muffle her scream of impatience as Sam groped in the pocket of his discarded jeans for a condom, but then he was inside her at last.
And despite the pitching boat, the rumbling thunder and the drumming rain, Kate felt as if the world had just righted itself.
Sam dug his fingertips into her buttocks, straining to get closer with each thrust. It was quick and savage and exactly the way Kate wanted it. She was alive. And she intended to live. She raked her nails down Sam's back and angled her hips to pull him deeper.
They climaxed suddenly, their damp bodies trembling as wave after wave sped through them. She heard him say her name. She felt him shudder.
Then thunder exploded directly overhead. Something heavy crashed onto the top of the cabin, and the ceiling light snicked out.
Kate jerked and lifted her head, her heart pounding.
Sam's weight left her immediately as he rolled to his side.
She thrust out her hand, groping for him in the darkness. She caught his arm. "Sam?" Her voice was rough. "What—"
"Lightning. We must have been hit. Looks like the electrical system's out."
She fought to get her brain functioning. "Oh, my God."
"Stay put. I'll check the damage."
"Sam—"
Somehow he found her mouth. He kissed her hard, his tongue plunging inside in an echo of the act they'd shared moments before.
She moaned, her body responding mindlessly. She dropped her hand to his thigh.
He broke the kiss, dragging his lips down her throat to nuzzle her breasts. With a muttered curse, he pulled up one edge of the blanket she was lying on and tucked it around her. "Stay put," he repeated.
"There's a flashlight...."
The bunk creaked. "Where?"
"In the locker beside the stairs." She gathered the blanket around her with one hand and swung her feet to the floor. "I'll get it—"
The boat rocked violently, throwing her forward. She collided with Sam.
He caught her around the waist and jerked her against him. He was still naked.
Kate opened her mouth over his collarbone, molding her body to his, absorbing his heat and the musky tang of his skin for a breathless, giddy moment.
But there was no time for more. The boat listed sharply to starboard, and water poured over her feet.
Chapter 13
The main mast was down, sheared off two feet above the boom. It trailed over the starboard side like a broken wing, held by the shrouds and what was left of the storm jib. Sam saw immediately that its drag in the water was making the boat heel on its side, allowing the sea to wash over the deck. Only the counterweight of the full lead keel was keeping them from capsizing.
"Can we pull it back on board?"
Kate was standing directly behind him, yet he barely heard her voice over the noise of the wind. He turned his head. "There's no point," he shouted. "We don't have the means to repair it ourselves. We'll have to cut it loose."
Lightning flickered, illuminating her rain-streaked face. "Okay. I'll get some cutters," she yelled.
They scrambled over the pitching deck, using their life-lines and each other as they grappled for handholds. When Sam crawled onto the boom to cut through the rigging, Kate was right behind him, wrapping her arms around his legs to steady him so he could use both hands as he worked.
He hadn't wanted her to come topside. He'd wanted her to stay safe and warm in the cabin. But he hadn't been surprised when she'd refused to be ordered. She'd retrieved the flashlight, pulled on her wet clothes without complaint alongside him and followed him up the ladder.
Was this the same woman who had fallen overboard and could have drowned? And who had left teeth marks in his shoulder ten minutes ago?
Yes, by God. And she was one hell of a woman, wasn't she?
"Hang on!" Sam shouted as he cut through the last strand of wire.
The mast fell away. Freed from the weight, the boat rolled sharply to the other side. They both clung to the boom until the boat righted itself.
But their problems were far from over. The lightning had knocked out the radio. The electric pump wasn't working. The water in the cabin was ankle deep, and they had to use a hand pump and buckets to bail it out.
For the rest of the night, they spoke little, saving their strength for their struggle with the sea. Sam lost track of time. It wasn't until Kate pointed to the twinkle of stars that he realized the storm was finally blowing itself out. Exhausted, they sealed the hatch behind them and discarded their wet clothes. With no energy left for modesty or anything else they wrapped themselves in dry blankets.
Kate was asleep before she reached the bunk. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen face first onto the mattress if Sam hadn't seen her going over. He scooped her up and laid her on her side, then stretched out behind her and drew her back to his chest.
The bunk was narrow, but that suited him fine. He pressed his lips to her damp hair. Every muscle in his body ached. His brain was fuzzy with fatigue. He craved sleep, but he didn't want to waste one minute of his time with Kate. He'd wasted too much time already.
"You're not getting away again, Lieutenant Mulvaney," he whispered. "You're mine, you hear me?"
Her chest rose and fell with the slow, steady breathing of deep sleep.
He draped his arm over hers and twined their fingers together. There was more he wanted to say. He was sure of it. But first he'd close his eyes just for a minute....
Sometime before dawn, Sam came awake with a start. Something was wrong. He was instantly alert, his senses searching for what had disturbed him. The boat rocked and dipped as it rode the swells, but the wind had dropped. The storm hadn't returned.
The sound came again. It was a low moan that made the hair on his arms rise. It came from Kate.
Sam lifted up on his elbow to look at her. In the starlight that streamed through the portholes he saw that her eyes were still closed. She was dreaming.
No, she was having a nightmare. Probably the same nightmare she'd had yesterday morning... and for the past five years.
Sam felt as if someone had
punched him in the heart. He wanted to help her, but he knew that his actions, however unknowing, had been the root cause of her pain. The words he'd shouted in anger the day before had only made it worse.
They'd made love yesterday without any words spoken. They'd been swept away by passion and an adrenaline high. He'd known then that their relationship wasn't as simple as sex. No, it wasn't simple at all.
He'd hoped they might have had more time together before the complications had come crashing back on top of them.
"Oh, Kate," he murmured, stroking her hair back from her forehead. "Kate, I'm sorry."
It started out the same as it always did. Kate was running, trying to find the baby. Her lungs were bursting, she couldn't get enough air, but she kept going. She wouldn't give up. She couldn't.
She drew her knees to her chest, curling into a protective ball, but the pain came anyway. It gnawed at her belly and shot down to her toes.
The baby. She was losing the baby.
"No." She groaned, splaying her fingers and reaching to stop the inevitable. "No, please, no."
Kate, I'm sorry.
She strained forward, Sam's words weaving themselves into the fabric of the nightmare. Sorry. She was sorry she couldn't move faster. Sorry she wasn't able to try harder. The baby. He wasn't here. She had to find him.
The hospital corridor stretched in a gleaming tunnel. The pain was tinging everything red. The doctor's voice was weary. "I'm sorry. We did everything we could."
She moved her head back and forth. No! This time she wasn't giving up. She wasn't running away. She was going to see this through.
"He's gone." The doctor was turning away. "He was too small. I'm sorry."
Kate pushed through the pain. No. She wasn't finished. Didn't they understand? She was through running, damn it. From everything.
The red haze faded to white as the pain slowly ebbed. Kate breathed hard, her throat tight. The dream was changing. For the first time in five years, it was different. Hope unfurled in her chest. She reached out her other hand.
The baby. Maybe this time she'd find the baby. She had to save him....
Something warm touched her face. A whisper of air on her cheek. She whirled.
There was no baby. No doctor, no hospital. No pain.
Only a butterfly.
Sunlight gleamed from wings of gold lace. The butterfly was so beautiful it took Kate's breath away. It fluttered a heartbeat beyond her grasp. She stretched out her arms and hurried after it, wanting to catch it....
But then her steps slowed. Something that delicate wasn't meant to be captured, was it? It would be selfish to force it to stay with her. Those lacy gold wings weren't made for the earth. It shouldn't be chained. It was meant to be free.
Kate dropped her arms.
The butterfly hovered for an endless, dreamy moment as if... as if it were saying goodbye. Then it spread its wings and spiraled into the sky.
She watched it soar. It danced on the breeze, playing in the clouds, rejoicing in the freedom to finally go where souls have always gone.
And softly, painlessly, a piece of Kate's heart broke away and went with it.
She woke up sobbing.
Sam was leaning over her, his fingers in her hair, his breath on her cheek.
But she couldn't see him. Her vision was blurred by tears.
"Oh, Kate." He stroked her shoulder, his fingers trembling. "Kate, I'm so sorry. Don't cry."
The tears came faster. She swallowed hard, she closed her eyes, but she couldn't stop crying. It was as if a dam had burst... or as if...
As if a wound that had been festering for years had finally been lanced.
Sam pulled her into his arms. "Kate, I was wrong. So wrong. I was angry and hurt, but that's no excuse. I never should have said those things about your miscarriage or your nightmares. I'm sorry."
She felt the warmth of Sam's body draw her out of the dream. She gradually became aware of her surroundings. With wakefulness came the memory of the last twenty-four hours. The storm. The sex. Falling overboard.... and the accusation Sam had hurled at her that had sent her there.
She pressed her face to his neck as another surge of tears washed over her. "No, Sam. I'm glad you did."
"I wasn't being fair. I couldn't possibly understand what you went through."
"Maybe not, but you were right."
"I was cruel."
"I needed it."
"Kate—"
"I had to... let go, Sam." Her words mixed with sobs. "I had to let him go."
He stroked her back, not saying anything more, just holding her while she cried. And she needed to cry. She'd believed she'd sucked up the pain and gotten on with her life, but she hadn't. She'd been fooling herself.
Everything she'd realized during those desperate moments underwater came back to her. She hadn't had the chance to think it through until now. She should have thought it all through years ago, but she'd been too busy blaming Sam and running away.
As cruel as his words had been, he was right. A part of her was relieved when she'd lost the baby. Deep in her subconscious she must have known she wasn't ready to have a child. She would have loved her baby, but she was afraid of loving anyone.
That was the real reason she hadn't contacted Sam. That was why she hadn't let go of her pain. The guilt that had haunted her had been buried too deeply to heal, but now, because of Sam's honesty, it had been exposed and was finally draining away.
And so she wept for what might have been. She grieved for the tiny life she and Sam had created that magical, star-filled night in the Keys. With each tear she shed, she let go of more guilt and more pain. When the tears ran out, she remained where she was, safe in Sam's embrace as the boat rocked gently in the breaking dawn.
His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath her ear. His arms were secure around her back. His chin rubbed the top of her head, his early-morning beard stubble catching her hair. He smoothed her hair with his palm, then wiped away the last of her tears.
Kate turned her head to look out the porthole over the bunk. A new day was about to begin. For the first time in much too long, she felt she could greet it without looking back. She lifted one hand to her throat, rubbing the place where the familiar necklace had been. It hadn't weighed more than an ounce or two. Why, then, did she suddenly feel so much lighter without it?
"Kate?" Sam's voice reached out to her as warmly as his arms.
She returned her head to his shoulder. Oh, how she loved this man.
Yes. She loved him. That's why she had resisted him for so long. That was the final piece of truth she had to face, but it was the easiest part. She was hopelessly in love with Sam Coburn. She probably had been from the moment they'd met. That's why the sex had always been so good. She was letting her body express what her heart and her mind had been too afraid to admit. They weren't just having sex, they were making love.
She splayed her hand, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breathing. Even now, with her body bruised and aching from the battle with the storm, she couldn't ignore the tingles that chased over her skin wherever he touched her. The passion that had exploded last night had been inevitable.
Facing the truth was a good start, but there were still issues she and Sam needed to resolve. They had both made mistakes. They had hurt each other. She wanted another chance to repair their relationship, but would she get one?
The boat tilted lazily as it rode up the side of a swell. Kate used the motion to slide her leg across Sam's thighs and roll on top of him. She pressed her lips over his heart.
"Kate?"
She slid lower, raking her fingernails along his hips, tracing the sharp contours of his bones, following the lean bulge of his muscles. Her lips brushed a ridge of puckered skin beside his navel. It was one of the scars he'd acquired while he'd been gone. He'd healed. Her emotional scars would heal, too. The process was already beginning.
"Kate, I hope you're awake," Sam said.
"Mmm?"
> "Because if you're not, I'm not feeling particularly noble."
"Oh, I'm awake, Sam." She rubbed her cheek along the silky line of hair that arrowed downward from his navel. "And I know exactly what I'm doing."
"You do, huh?"
She could hear a smile in his voice, and her lips curved. "Uh-huh. Whatever else we've messed up, we always got this part right."
He stretched. It was a long, lazy, masculine stretch as he straightened his legs and tensed his muscles. His hips lifted from the mattress, carrying her upward before he exhaled slowly on a gravelly moan. "Yeah. We did always get this part right."
She closed her eyes and inhaled, savoring the scent of Sam's skin. She didn't fight the memories that flooded her. There was no longer any need.
Sam curled forward and caught her under her arms. He pulled her up his body until their faces were level, then pressed his mouth to hers.
It was a slow kiss, a tender kiss. The passion was there in the tremor of his hands as he held her close, but he was taking his time, as if he, too, wanted to savor. He kissed her thoroughly, using his lips and his tongue and his teeth until she had to pull back simply to take a breath.
He moved to her ear and leisurely repeated the process, then worked his way downward. He took the time that neither of them had wanted to spare during their frenzied lovemaking the night before.
They were already naked. There was no need to struggle with the nuisance of clothing. As if of their own accord, their bodies moved together.
Kate gasped as she felt Sam fill her. It was more than sex. It was life. She hooked her leg over his and clasped his buttocks, no longer wanting to go slow.
But Sam wouldn't be rushed. He caught her hands and drew them over her head. With their fingers laced against the rail at the head of the bunk, he settled himself more comfortably on top of her.
"Sam..."
"We're getting there, Kate." He kissed the side of her neck and rotated his hips. "Trust me, it will be worth the wait."