Sea of Desire

by Christine Dorsey

  Jared’s teeth and whiskered chin grazed her shoulder as he managed to rid her of the gown’s bodice. Now only the fine gauze of her chemise covered her breasts. The thin silk couldn’t disguise her rosy nipples, puckered berry hard, nor the distended centers that beckoned to his mouth.

  Merideth lifted her buttocks off the bed as he dragged the tangle of skirts and petticoats from her body. He shifted to the side enough to peel clocked hose down the slender calves, lingering a moment to follow the graceful curve of her instep before tossing the silk to the cabin’s wooden deck. Then with a flick of the drawstring, the shift’s neck widened, enabling him to skim it down her ribs, over her hips, and further.

  She lay before him, her body covered by nothing but the flush of sexual arousal. He touched her, his long, slender fingers splaying across her stomach from hipbone to hipbone, and Merideth closed her eyes and moaned. When the heel of his palm inched lower she shamelessly spread her legs, allowing him entrance to her heated core.

  But it wasn’t his hand that nuzzled between her thighs. A sweep of his midnight hair tightened her muscles, sending them into spasms that flowed and concentrated in the heart of her femininity as his tongue probed, stimulating the sensitive kernel of flesh.

  The climax that shook her was so sharp, so carnal, that a scream escaped as wave upon wave of sensual delight spread through her body. Her head twisted to the side and her eyes closed, but the bright celebration of colors continued, each vision brighter than the one before.

  Before the swells subsided, he slid up her body. Somehow he’d shed his breeches, for the smooth tip of his manhood, hot as a poker, pressed inside her.

  Merideth’s body stretched to accept the size and strength of him. She raised her knees, twining her legs around his slim hips, and waited for the rhythmic power of his mating to commence.

  But he was still. Her lashes lifted and she gazed into his eyes, smoky and dark with passion. The skin was tight across his straight blade of nose. And his mouth was full and beautiful.

  Capturing her hands, he stretched them high above the fan of golden curls till her knuckles skimmed the headboard. Then he twined their fingers, tightening his grip as he began to thrust deep inside her.

  He withdrew, then entered with more power than before. His sweat-slick chest skimmed a heartbeat above hers, the tangle of raven hair brushing against her erect nipples.

  “Please,” she whispered, barely able to recognize her own voice, or to know what she begged for.

  A flash of white teeth brightened the dark intensity of his face, then the grin faded. His mouth tightened, the tendons on his neck thickened, stood out in bold relief under his sun-browned skin. When he could stand the anticipation no more, he drove faster, deeper.

  When she cried out, his mouth fused with hers. He surged uncontrollably, the frenzied motion cresting into an eruption of pure pleasure that seemed to go on and on.

  They collapsed together, his face falling into the tangle of curls above her shoulder, his breath rasping in her ear.

  When Jared regained a semblance of composure he lifted himself, resting his weight on his elbows and framing her beautiful face with his hands.

  “We may have many differences,” he said, his voice still warm and husky. “But we do have this in common.”

  There was no doubt in Merideth’s mind what he meant by “this.” Or that he was right. They shared an overpowering passion, and there didn’t seem to be anything either of them could do about it.

  Then he drew her into his arms, kissing her again, and she felt the swell of his body within hers.

  And to her shame, Merideth knew she wouldn’t stop this madness even if she could.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There was no doubt where Captain Blackstone would spend his nights—no doubt, at least, in Merideth’s mind.

  She readied herself for bed that evening, wondering when he would come to her. She’d seen naught of him since he’d left her late that afternoon.

  Swiping the captain’s silver brush down through her curls, she glanced toward the bunk. A rose-colored blush darkened her cheeks. She had tried to straighten the linen and blankets, but the mattress still looked rumpled to her. Maybe it was simply her guilty conscience. Tim hadn’t seemed to notice anything when he’d come this evening for his lesson. He’d been full of talk of his day, of the measuring of knots, and the direction of the wind. If there was ever a lad born to be a sailor, ‘twas Tim, Merideth thought.

  But he’d stuck to his word and worked hard at his lessons, reading from the Buffon’s Natural History in his halting style. He hadn’t even acted too relieved when Merideth told him he could go, though she’d known he was.

  Not that she hadn’t been as well. Truthfully, Merideth had let him go earlier than their normal lessons ended. She didn’t want him in the cabin when the captain came.

  “ ‘Twas no need to worry about that,” she mumbled to herself, starting to work the bristles through her hair with forceful jerks. It was late, nigh on mid-watch, and no sign of him yet.

  Merideth tossed the brush onto the desk and folded her arms. Why should she care?

  She didn’t. “I don’t,” Merideth whispered to herself.

  This afternoon had just... happened. Neither of them had wanted it to. After all, nothing was changed. She was still his captive. He still doubted her word. And then there was Daniel’s contention that Jared would kill her if he suspected she had betrayed his brother.

  And Merideth wasn’t convinced Daniel didn’t speak the truth. She wasn’t even certain her innocence would save her.

  So why was she pacing the cabin, anticipating the captain’s return?

  Merideth tried to deny that that was what she was doing, but saw no reason to lie to herself. She’d been in bed, out of bed, stripped naked, covered by her shift and shawl; she’d finally folded the shawl and tossed it aside. She’d read, paced the cabin, brushed her hair... paced the cabin. And he still didn’t come.

  Finally, exasperated with herself and the weakness that drove her to want him when she shouldn’t, Merideth doused the candle in the lantern and lay down. The pillow smelled of him... of his hair and the sea, and she snuggled her face into it and breathed deeply. Then turned her head, disgusted that just the smell of him would evoke such need.

  Overhead the timbers groaned and she could hear the faint tingling of bells. One, two, three... Eight bells. Midnight. She’d learned to tell time by the ringing of the brass bell that hung in the bracket near the edge of the forecastle. Each half hour they rang as the sandglass was turned.

  The night watch was over. Tired sailors would be making their way to their hammocks. The thought made Merideth drowsy. Closing her eyes, she sighed, telling herself she was just as glad the captain had decided to keep to himself.

  It was the exact moment the cabin door opened.

  Startled, Merideth sat up, the blanket clutched to her breast. She recognized the captain silhouetted against the lighted passageway and smiled. She couldn’t help herself.

  “I took the night watch,” he said, stepping into the cabin and shutting the door behind him. “Seemed the least I could do for missing my own this afternoon.”

  Merideth waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. The moon was waning, offering no more than a shimmer of light to the cabin. She sensed rather than saw him move toward her. “I suppose that’s fair,” Merideth said. She could hear his boot treads on the wooden floor. He was almost to her.

  When his shadowy form settled onto the side of the bunk, Merideth wriggled over to make room for him. He hesitated, bending forward, his hands between his knees, his broad back a spanse of white.

  “I’m not sure why I came here,” he began, then seemed to find his own words amusing, because he laughed. “Actually, I do know why I came. I’m just not certain it’s the best thing.”

  “I’m not sure either.”

  He turned to face her when she spoke. Merideth caught a glimpse of his shining eyes. “But I don
’t want to leave.”

  Merideth bit her bottom lip. Her breathing had slowed and she forced herself to take a big gulp of air. “I don’t want you to go either.”

  He came to her then in the darkness, his fingers braiding through her hair, his lips warm and firm. Heat speared through her as he lowered her down on the mattress. Her arms wrapped around his lean waist, kneading the slabs of taut muscles across his back.

  She loved the weight of him, the solid feel of him as his body settled onto her. His kisses were tender at first, less hungry, but no less intense than this afternoon, and Merideth luxuriated in them. When he paused to rid her of the shift, himself of his shirt, breeches, and boots, Merideth found she missed him.

  But soon he was back, slipping inside her as smoothly as water over glass. She drew him in, cupping his buttocks and meeting each long, slow plunge.

  His mouth slid off hers, following the curve of her jaw till it found the underside of her chin, the slender line of her neck. “Merry, oh God, Merry,” he murmured, his breath a hot brand on her flesh. Then she could hear nothing but the soft sensual moans that came from both of them.

  She tingled, the thrusts quickened, and her mind hazed with anticipation. When her release came in long undulating crests of pleasure, Jared linked their hands, bracketing her head. Their fingers twined, staying that way long after they’d coaxed the last shivers free.

  Merideth lifted her lashes, and though the cabin was dark she could tell he stared at her. But she could not read his expression, and though she thought to ask what he was thinking, the words wouldn’t come.

  After a moment he settled down on the bunk, pulled her to his side, and covered them with the woolen blanket. Merideth rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep to the lullaby of his soft snores.

  In the morning he was gone.

  Waking up with the first blush of dawn shining through the stern windows, Merideth smiled, then stretched, her arms stopping in mid spread when she realized she was alone in the bunk.

  Sitting up, she looked around the cabin. In the gritty light she could see he’d taken his clothes. Not a sign of him remained from last night.

  “Which is as I expected,” Merideth said as she clambered from the bed. Nothing had really changed between them.

  Except now they were lovers.

  Not in love, though Merideth wasn’t certain she didn’t suffer from that ailment. But it was obvious the captain didn’t. He wanted one thing from her. Two, if you counted the name of the traitor. But she couldn’t give him that.

  Biting her lip to keep the tears at bay, Merideth splashed water from the pitcher into the bowl, then onto her face. She dressed quickly, tied back her hair, and stuffed the old felt hat onto her head. With a smile forced on her lips she went on deck.

  The day was sharp and clear, a fresh wind sang through the sails, and before she knew it, the smile was genuine. She spoke briefly with Mr. Pochet, the ship’s carpenter, then was hailed to the rail by Tim.

  “Lady Merideth,” he said, his hazel eyes full of excitement. “We spotted sail near dawn.”

  “You did.” Merideth shaded her eyes. “Where?”

  Following the line of his finger, Merideth could make out a tiny speck on the horizon. “Cap’n says it’s a merchantman probably bound for Kingston from Canada.”

  “It’s English, then?”

  “Cap’n says more’n likely.”

  For hours Merideth watched silently as the spot of white grew larger, till she could finally make out the shape of sails. Tim had left her, to carry on with his duties, so she no longer had his running commentary. Even without it she could tell the Carolina was in pursuit.

  Visions of another bloody battle came to her, and with it the memory of the men she had nursed... the men who had died. She glanced about the deck, at Mr. Pochet, and at Tim. At Padriac, and at the bo’sun who told her such wonderful tales of pirates. She imagined them burned and bleeding. She drew in a shattered breath and her gaze searched the quarterdeck.

  “He can’t seem to let well enough alone.”

  “What?” Merideth hadn’t noticed Daniel approach her until he was by her side.

  He nodded his wigged head in the direction Merideth looked. “My dear cousin is determined to take yet another prize. It doesn’t seem to matter to him that our hold is already full.”

  Glancing around, Merideth stared at him, not knowing what she was to say. But apparently Daniel expected no response. His eyes were still fixed on the captain and he continued. “But that’s like Jared. He wants it all. He always has.”

  “You sound as if you don’t like him very much.”

  His attention shifted to her quickly. His winged brows lifted. “Not like Jared, my own flesh and blood? Why, that’s unheard of.” His smile sent a chill down Merideth’s spine. “We Blackstones stick together. It’s a rule. Almost a sacrament. We never speak ill of another Blackstone.”

  “You seem want to adhere to your own maxim.”

  “What?” Daniel lifted his hand, slender fingers spread. “Because I point out a few of my relative’s deficiencies?” His smile turned ingratiating. “But that’s just to you, dear girl, and only because you’ve become important to me.”

  He reached out, catching a lock of Merideth’s hair, twirling it around his finger before she could step away. He seemed to sense her discomfort, but Merideth was certain that wasn’t the reason he let go before she raised her hand to slap at his. His laugh was chilling.

  “But then here comes our revered captain now.” Merideth glanced up to see Jared approaching, a sober expression on his sun-darkened face. “I’m sure he’ll tell you the same. Won’t you, dear cousin?” he added, raising his voice for Jared to hear.

  “Won’t I what?” Jared stopped before them, wondering why it annoyed him so much to see the two of them together.

  “I was just giving our lovely Lady Merideth an explanation of why blood is thicker than water.”

  Jared’s eyes narrowed and Daniel brushed the explanation aside with a flick of his wrist. “ ‘Tis nothing. Certainly nothing so important as what you’ve come to say.”

  Merideth was sure the captain would find the tone of sarcasm in his cousin’s voice offensive—she certainly did—but he merely stared at Daniel a moment before turning his sea-green eyes on her.

  “I think it best you go below deck, Lady Merideth.”

  He spoke with a detachment that belied the intimacy of the previous night. A detachment that offended Merideth. She raised her chin. She could be as haughty and distant as he. “Is that because you plan to attack that innocent ship?” Merideth pointed to where the merchantman was now clearly visible.

  Jared didn’t bother to turn his head. “Aye,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “That would be the reason.”

  The words were spoken without inflection, but Merideth could tell she’d sparked his ire. Though his chiseled face was covered with a day’s growth of black whiskers—apparently he’d been so anxious to leave her this morning, he’d neglected to shave—she could see the telltale tightening of his jaw.

  She held her ground.

  Daniel, however, did not. “I suppose I shall retire below deck. Are you coming, Lady Merideth?” When he received no answer, not even a shift of attention his way, Daniel bowed. “Well then, till later.”

  Neither Merideth nor Jared noticed him leave. Towering over her, his expression as dark as the tangle of hair that whipped back and forth across his face, he said nothing.

  Trying not to feel intimidated, Merideth cleared her throat. “Look at the poor vessel.” Though her words demanded an action, neither head turned. “It doesn’t even seem to be running from us.”

  “ ‘Tis no matter. We could catch her anyway.” When the sails were spotted by the morning watch just as dawn paled the stars, he’d set the Carolina on the same tack and course. He’d ordered canvas unfurled to match the merchantman, and set her position in his compass. He was pleased when her sails drew a point
aft. But even if they could outsail the low-riding merchantman, there was no call to cause the enemy ship’s captain alarm. Jared didn’t want any of her cargo jettisoned in an attempt to outrun a privateer. So he depended on a bluff.

  “The ship isn’t sailing from us,” he told Merideth. “Their captain thinks us to be another merchantman.”

  “But how—”

  “Our gunports are covered with painted canvas, for one thing.”

  “Why, that’s—”

  “And we’re flying an English ensign, for another.”

  Her gaze did leave his then—briefly—to search out the flag snapping sharply from the mainmast. It was a brilliant white, sporting a red cross. “... not fair,” she finished.

  “Ruse de guerre,” Jared said with a shrug. “I thought you knew war isn’t fair.”

  She did. Hadn’t she learned that the hard way? Merideth closed her eyes. When her lashes lifted, the captain had stepped closer. “Now, will you kindly go below?” His voice was low, familiar, reminding her of his long, hard body pressed to hers.

  Merideth swallowed. “And if I don’t?”

  “I shall have to toss you over my shoulder and take you myself.”

  “You wouldn’t.” But even as she voiced the words, Merideth knew he most certainly would. He’d done it before, and the gleam in his eyes told her he would do it again. She took a step back, then another. He made no move to follow her, but Merideth decided not to tarry.

  Casting a nervous glance over her shoulder as she made her way to the main hatch—the captain no longer stood by the larboard rail—Merideth bumped into a tar she knew as Fleets. He carried two buckets of sand linked by a wooden yoke that rode the curve of his burly tattoo-covered shoulders.

  He grabbed her arm. “Beggin’ yer pardon, yer Ladyship.”

  “No, no. It was my fault.” Merideth gave him a wan smile and skirted his wide body. Now that she looked about, the deck was full of activity. Sailors were moving here and there, bringing barrels of powder from the hold and stacking handspikes, rammers, and powder horns by the cannons. More tars climbed into the rigging. But to a man they worked in a quiet, casual way that Merideth assumed was meant to throw off the English captain if he happened to be observing through his spyglass.