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In Deep

Page 12

by Chloe Harris


  He squeezed her stinging bottom, a purely possessive gesture. Jaidyn’s pulse skittered. “Yes,” was all she could manage as goose bumps covered every inch of her body.

  “So, one day after we’d been sailing together for a while and had become closer as friends as well as captain and first mate, I tested him. We were charting and I told him that his work was shoddy. He was sitting at the table and I stood beside him with my hand on his shoulder and told him that maybe he needed to be punished for it. The work was fine, really. He’s very good at charting. But instead of balking at the accusation, he bowed his head even more and said ‘Yes, sir’–and, of course, his britches told the rest of the story.”

  She tried to picture the scene between the two men; Maxfield bent over the table or tied like she’d just been. Jaidyn’s skin was ablaze and her center pulsed.

  But then a chill ran through her. Maybe she was intruding? Jaidyn wanted so much not to care, but she did. Sitting up, she pulled the coverlet up to her chin. “If I’m in the way … if you’d rather be with–”

  “Jaidyn, stop it.” Connor shook his head and all but ripped the coverlet from her grip, exposing her once again. “As I told you, Maxfield loves Drusilla best he can. For now I give him something he craves that she can’t. In time he’ll have to find someone who can give him what he needs or he’ll have to learn to live without it. I hope for his sake it’s Drusilla. But–” Connor gently pressed her down onto the bed. His head dipped to take one tender nipple into his mouth. “Can we not talk about them any longer? I’d much rather wrap my arms around you and feel you close to me while we talk some more, if you like.”

  Jaidyn didn’t understand who anyone was anymore. Not Connor, or herself, or the now enigmatic Mr. Parrish. Connor’s lips laving and soothing the ache from her throbbing peak wasn’t helping.

  His mouth moved toward her other breast, giving it equal attention. When his gaze found hers again, his mouth curved upward. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

  Did Jaidyn want to know any more? Or did she just want to feel? Just live in the moment and forget about what was past–and what was to come.

  His dark blue eyes dawdled here and there as they slid down her body, starting anew the keen tingle.

  “So before, you said you felt contented?”

  “Yes.” For the fraction of a second, Connor narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  Wrapping one leg around his waist, Jaidyn straddled him.

  “Pity.” The word came out a bit muffled as she leaned down, mimicking his earlier actions and sucking the delicious pebble of one of his nipples.

  “Because …” Trailing wet kisses across his chest to his other nipple, she let her tongue dart out and flick over it quickly. “I thought if you felt …” Gyrating her hips against his crotch, he hardened in response. “… up to it, I could see to your pleasure now.”

  Connor smirked. “You are insatiable. You may be the death of me.”

  “What a way to go,” Jaidyn whispered, scrambling down his body. “Don’t you think?” She dragged the flat of her tongue in one slow stroke up his member.

  “But if you don’t want to,” Jaidyn said and sat up, her thumb swiping over his weeping head. She brought her hand up and sucked the wet digit, her eyes half closed as she savored the seductive taste.

  Connor’s hand snaked around her head and pulled her back down. “Woman,” he growled, his handsome, calmly smiling countenance darkening. He used that steely tone on her again. “Finish what you started. Now.”

  Aye, sir, Jaidyn thought with a grin as she set to pleasuring him.

  9

  _____________________________

  The smell of the apple tarts surrounding her, Jaidyn sat at a small, rough-hewn table in the undersized galley, busily cutting carrots. It was nice of the cook, a Mr. McCutcheon, to let her pass some time pretending to be of assistance in the clean and serviceable ship’s galley. Even she could see she wasn’t doing a very good job, although it helped some to keep her mind off things. The poor carrot was mauled rather than diced, so distracted was Jaidyn by her growing feelings for Connor and how they spent their nights together. Cook just shook his bald, wrinkled head at the mess but didn’t complain.

  In the last few days she would wander in from time to time and Mr. McCutcheon would give her something small to keep her hands busy, like cutting vegetables or kneading dough. He was trying to teach her a few things here and there. She was willing to learn, but it was going as badly as her chopping was.

  The sailing had been fair, the winds brisk enough to keep them moving at a steady pace. She often found herself with time on her hands while Connor went about his duties as captain. At times she was glad for the distance to be alone with her thoughts. But other times, like today, the last place Jaidyn wanted to be was alone with her thoughts.

  Sometimes she would stroll on the deck or stay in the cabin and read. Connor had a nice collection, and they weren’t even all about ships. She wished she had the patience to sit and read more. But either the subject matter didn’t engage her enough to keep her thoughts from straying, or she’d start something like a book of sonnets that reminded her too much of the man whose room she occupied. It was better when she was busier and didn’t have as much time to worry about what would happen when they reached their destination and she had to leave Connor.

  Despite that, her favorite thing had become watching Connor as he worked. She told herself it was another way to try to figure out what about him intrigued her so much. He was quick to help out with a snarled line or a torn sail. That he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty was admirable.

  Thinking of how the small calluses on his hands from such hard work felt when he touched her sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

  Jaidyn refused to let her mind veer in that direction. Shaking the memory off, she thought of how much she enjoyed listening while he instructed some of the more educated members of the crew. He taught the coxswain and boatswain the business of reading charts and working with the instruments, so that they’d be fit to be first and second mates one day.

  Jaidyn finished one carrot and picked up another. She’d already had a feeling that she wasn’t the only one hiding something. She’d seen those furtive glances some sailors threw her way. She’d also picked up on the way some, Connor included, avoided talking about their destination. She wondered about what else Connor might be hiding.

  One thing at least was obvious. Earlier today she’d seen Connor working on something again that he quickly stashed away when he’d seen her. Jaidyn had no idea why he didn’t want her to see it. As far as she could tell, it looked like something for the ship. From what she’d seen, all it was were strips of leather.

  But, she sighed, moving the knife haphazardly through the orange flesh, what was one more vexing thing on top of everything else?

  It was quite apparent Connor was wooing her, seducing her into giving in. He’d made no secret about it in St. George’s. Everything he did now was screaming it louder than words ever could. He wanted her to become his mistress.

  With each day that passed, Jaidyn found it more difficult to not imagine what it would be like to continue to fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the same arms that made her feel safe, cared for. And in a way … loved. In those hazy moments between deep sleep and almost wakening, she knew whatever happened, in his arms everything would be fine.

  It was tempting. He was tempting. And that was exactly what he was counting on. That sneaky man.

  It could never be. And soon she’d have to tell him why, but like a coward she continued to put it off. The reminder of what was awaiting her was like a splash of ice-cold water.

  “There you are!”

  At the sound of Connor’s voice, Jaidyn yelped in surprise, nicking her finger with the knife. She quickly set it down and brought her finger to her lips, trying to stop the flow of blood with her tongue. The look she gave him should have chided him sufficiently, but he proved imperv
ious to it. Connor sat down on the bench beside her, pulling her finger from her mouth.

  “Here, let me see that.” He examined the cut, which was very small and the bleeding had almost stopped already. Connor quickly pressed his lips to it and then held her hand in his lap. “See? All better.”

  He gave her that boyish grin again that always made her pulse pitch. Vexing indeed. Of course he would think it was his little kiss and not her own swift action that fixed things. And why wouldn’t he be so cocky? The whole crew practically fawned over him.

  Well, she wasn’t going to let herself fall for it. “Did you need something, Connor?”

  “I thought you might want to come up on deck to watch the drills.” He seemed much too excited about drills.

  “What kind of drills?”

  “When the sailing is fair like it is now, I don’t like the crew to get too idle. So we often do foul-weather drills or gun drills.” Connor shrugged and leaned back, waving his hand as he explained, “We haven’t done a gun drill in a while. I thought it might be good for them. We all enjoy a good loud run with the cannons.”

  “A gun drill?” Jaidyn didn’t like the idea of hearing the guns at all. “Do you expect trouble?”

  Connor calmly caressed her hand. “No, of course not. There will be no trouble while you’re aboard my ship.” He leaned in closer, brushing her shoulder with his other hand. “You must trust me when I say, what happened to you was out of the ordinary. With so few pirates nowadays, merchant ships rarely have trouble beyond Mother Nature. Especially those from a Dutch-based company not involved with the French and English troubles.”

  “Yet you have guns on board.” Jaidyn didn’t need to be coddled. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it fast.

  Bringing her fingers to his lips again, Connor kissed each knuckle lightly. “Pfft. They’re mostly just for show these days. Makes owners of the cargo feel better about our services.”

  And it helped her feel more protected too. He didn’t have to say it; Jaidyn was smart enough to figure it out herself. She wrinkled her nose.

  Last night she’d had the nightmare again, and he’d woken her out of it. She hadn’t told him what it’d been about, but he’d probably guessed. The last thing she needed was for him to be overly kind and attentive.

  With the bright smile of a man who seemed to think he’d picked the right card, Connor pulled her to her feet. “The crew enjoys playing at war every now and then. We make a friendly competition about it. You’ll see.”

  Wonderful. They were all going to have a blast; she, on the other hand, wouldn’t.

  Although, and there was no denying it, Connor thinking of her and working to make her feel better did feel good. Yes, it felt very good–and that was bad for many reasons.

  Maybe the drill was much better distraction than mangling helpless vegetables. Cook would probably be relieved too that she was nowhere near his kitchen. So Jaidyn let Connor pull her along without resistance.

  While all the crew took their positions, Jaidyn stood to one side at the forward end of the deck. The youngest of the crew were acting as powder monkeys, running back and forth with black powder and wadding. She guessed there was no sense wasting actual balls on a drill.

  Two or three men manned each gun. The Coraal boasted four nine-pounders and half a dozen six-pounders. A coxswain or boatswain directed each crew, and they all raced to have the best time in aiming, loading, and firing. They went through several rounds with the leader of each crew shouting orders and each gun crew racing to win the extra mug of rum apiece promised to the most efficient team.

  There was so much going on, Jaidyn hardly knew where to look. One man got his foot tangled up in a coil of rope and fell, sending black powder everywhere, followed by the shouts of his whole team voicing their annoyance. Another team screamed encouragements to cajole their powder monkey to a faster pace. A member of a third crew blew out the wick of the team closest to him, but Connor didn’t miss a thing and quickly barked they’d be disqualified that round.

  It all seemed like more of a sport than a chore. And once again, as much as she wished it wasn’t happening, Jaidyn was in awe of Connor’s leadership and his command of his crew. He knew when to be stern, when to be congenial, when to punish, and when to praise. It was obvious just how much his crew respected and cared for their captain.

  Damn him for being such a good man! Things would be so much easier if she could find him more lacking.

  After four rounds, the scores were tallied and the drills ended. Connor announced the winning team. The crew took a short break for food and rest before the ship went back to its normal daily routine.

  Jaidyn decided to check on May Hem. She spent time with May Hem every day, not only because the horse appreciated her company, but also because May Hem was a wonderful listener. She walked May Hem as much as she could up and down the length of the hold, groomed her, and taught Georgie, one of the younger boys, how to help with her.

  When she reached the hold, her would-be groom, a thin lad around fourteen with shaggy brown hair and eyes the same color, was spreading fresh hay in the stall. “Hello, Georgie. How’s our girl today?”

  “She’s good, miss. I stayed with her during the whole drill. She got a little skittish, but I talked her through it.” His chest puffed with pride.

  “You’ve been a great help, Georgie, or Mr. Jones, I should say.”

  “Thank you, miss.” He looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, not quite comfortable with the praise. Once, the boy had confided in her that he was hoping Connor would help him secure a position as a groom on a large estate up north. As far as Jaidyn was concerned, he was more than qualified.

  “Go on to your other duties now. I’ll brush her down.”

  Smiling, Georgie handed over the reins and skipped away even before Jaidyn had led May Hem to the stall.

  “How are you today, girl?” Jaidyn moved the brush in long, soothing strokes down the horse’s flank. “Things are so simple for you, aren’t they?”

  Wouldn’t it be nice to have such simple needs? Jaidyn could hardly imagine how her life could be much more complicated–or infuriating, for that matter.

  At her father’s death, Jaidyn’s mother had fallen into a deep lethargy she’d never recovered from, and she’d followed him soon after, but not without revealing what Jaidyn would have never believed: that Randal Alexander Donnelly wasn’t Jaidyn’s real father; instead, a certain Neil Flaherty, a mere commoner who had been transported for smuggling weapons and other banned goods into Scotland, was her father.

  He had built a new life in the Colonies vowing to send for Jaidyn’s mother, but her growing belly could not be hidden any longer and she accepted Donnelly’s courtship.

  With both parents gone, Jaidyn was easy prey. Before that, Jaidyn really had had a pleasant life that wasn’t tainted by worries graver than how to avoid a tea party in order to spend time with her horses. All of a sudden she’d become the rich, albeit eccentric heiress, and fortune hunters were running down her door. That’s when things started to deteriorate.

  In a weak moment she’d sought shelter in the arms of an unworthy man. To escape him and all those stifling rules society pressed upon a lady like her, she’d mustered the courage to write to Neil Flaherty–who had come up with a brilliant plan, in Jaidyn’s opinion.

  But then things had gone from bad to worse.

  And now things were not just adverse, they were infuriatingly complicated and tangled. It felt like a knot in her belly, a knot so thick she feared she couldn’t sort it out.

  And the reason for it all was that Irish devil on deck!

  Oh, she’d thought it would be so simple spending some time with Connor while on her way to meeting her real father. Theoretically, it would have been simple, but Jaidyn hadn’t taken into account that despite her efforts, she’d developed feelings for Connor. Strong feelings. She liked him. Very much. Perhaps too much.

  “What should I do, girl?” she asked
May Hem with another stroke to her chestnut coat before she moved to the horse’s left side and began again.

  After all they’d shared, after having spent all those nights in Connor’s bed and enjoying all the wicked things they did, she couldn’t deny her feelings any longer. But the more she cared, the more it hurt to think of leaving him. She didn’t really have a choice in the matter because she had to keep her commitment once they docked.

  Trapped in a damned vicious circle, that’s what Jaidyn was. She had to focus on things she didn’t like about Connor, which were innumerable, she was sure, if she could find any.

  Oh, yes. He was overbearing. A little. All he did was pursue one goal, trying to convince her that she should become his mistress, showing her what would await her once she agreed. But that was totally out of the question, because–

  “Do you want to hear something funny?” Jaidyn stood on tiptoe to whisper in May Hem’s ear. “Connor thinks the idea of a proxy marriage is barbaric.”

  The laughter died in her throat. Jaidyn set down the brush and wrapped her arms around May Hem’s neck, trying her best to hold back the tears. “He’s here,” Jaidyn made a small fist and thumped her chest right over her heart. “I don’t know how or when he’d gotten there. I tried so hard to keep him outside. But somehow he’s forced his way in.”

  Now all she could think of was him. She wanted him there, in her heart, but it was tearing her apart at the same time. Sooner rather than later, she had to let him go. Connor would always be a precious memory in all those cold nights that awaited her.

  How was she going to be able to walk away?

  Finally, the tears couldn’t be stopped, hushed sobs obscured by May Hem’s withers. “My sweet girl, what in the world am I to do?”

  How could she tell Connor that she belonged to another man?

  And how could she tell her husband that her heart belonged to Connor?

 

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