My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1)

by Synclair Stafford

  “I would suppose so, seeing as you do not like to see me drink.” Far too angry now to trust his actions, it was imperative he take her somewhere private so he might cool down, and perhaps speak to her in a more rational manner.

  Bloody hell, that would be difficult. All his previous attempts for levelheaded actions with this woman seemed to fly into thin air.

  “Your consumption of alcohol was never an issue, until you became quite foxed, love.” Her shoulders lifted on an agitated intake of breath.

  “I was not foxed.” She turned those bright, angry, emerald eyes on him, lips open with indignation.

  Pursing his lips together, he placed his fingers under her arm, gently, but forcefully instructing her to rise. She stood, but jerked back from his touch.

  “I can stand on my own. I’ve not consumed that much ale, thank you.”

  Frowning, he gripped her above the elbow as she continued to try to dodge his touch, pushing her toward the back of the tavern. He gave the barkeep a meaningful glare. It was a Don’t mind us, we’re going into the storeroom kind of glare.

  Anne continued to jerk away from him, “How dare you?” as he guided and semi-shoved her into the back room.

  She sputtered and cursed him along the way. “Damn you, what are you doing? Don’t touch me, damn you.”

  Once inside, he was surprised to find light filtering in through two windows at the top of the back wall. He turned to the door and closed it, slowly.

  Then, he dropped the latch to bar anyone from opening it, and barring her from escaping the fierce punishment she deserved.

  Anne turned to give him another tongue-lashing, but seeing the door closed, her eyes widened in surprise.

  “I think it’s time for you to explain, my love, why I have found my bride in a nefarious, dockside tavern.”

  Chapter 15

  Anne swallowed the sudden fear in her chest, and the anticipation swirling in her loins. It didn’t stop her heart from pounding against her ribs or the sudden dryness in her mouth.

  The latch banged with finality. Addison’s broad shoulders dwarfed the door behind him. He turned to face her in the small room and she shivered at the dire look in his eyes.

  She stepped back and bumped into a wooden table. There was no escape, only several tankards and cups collecting dust on the table, and beyond, stacks of barrels and crates. She couldn’t possibly crawl through the one small window situated high above her head. No doors besides the one on the other side of the quietly brooding, gorgeous man leaning against the small, but heavy wooden door.

  Swallowing hard, she would play this to the end. If she were going to send this man packing and win back her freedom, she’d have to continue with her act. These were methods she’d not batted an eye at in the past, but under his intense gaze, her fortitude shredded like rotted gauze in a storm.

  The stories she had told thus far had not been embellishments, but true stories of her experiences as a pirate. But, she truly was trying to settle down with her babies and just be . . . normal. Or, as normal as she could for the sake of her children.

  “Nefarious?” She shrugged, nonchalantly looking down for some imaginary filth on her fingernail. “This is nothing.”

  “Nothing. So, you’ve frequented establishments worse than this one, eh?” His tone held a note of disbelief.

  Tension nearly poured from his tall form, still blocking her exit. She could just imagine his facial expression upon hearing the truth. She inspected the fingernails on her other hand.

  “Many.”

  He regarded her with a slight twist to his lips, as if she were amusing him.

  Anne squared her shoulders and raised her chin.

  “Name one, then. Any tavern you’ve been in so frequently that is unfit for a lady.”

  “The Old Dog, for one. I know the owner of the establishment very well. His name is Peg-leg Jim.”

  Addison’s eyes were as silver as the fork she’d used at Henry’s manor, a deadly color that made him appear roguish and dangerous. “Hmmm. And, where is this illustrious tavern?” His eyes narrowed.

  Anger, heat, and passion kept her feet firmly rooted to the floor, but she wanted to smack her forehead with her hand. Why had she mentioned the most obvious pirate hideout in the sea?

  “Tortuga.”

  The grin he displayed melted every bone in her body, or so it felt. Shivers traveled up and down her arms, her legs . . . in her very center.

  “You claim to associate with pirates now? How . . . adventurous.” His gaze dipped down her body, sending another pulse of desire down into her core. “Tell me, were you looking for pirates today, my love?” His voice had lowered to a slow drawl, seductive and coaxing. The same purring sound he’d used in Henry’s study.

  Remembering their previous encounter did nothing to calm the furious pounding inside her chest. She should be frightened at the look in his eyes. She should be pleading for him to open the door. But, pleading and fear were not two words she liked to give any credence.

  “Why is it that a lady cannot retrieve a good tankard of ale, and homemade biscuits of her own accord?”

  “Aye, that she can, but a lady with any sense would get an escort to a restaurant and not the dockside taverns. Otherwise, she could be abducted and forced into—let’s say, a store room.”

  Smiling—the way he smiled when he was about to touch her in ways no man had ever cared to touch her—he spread his arms wide. What? Intimidation, back to lessons on the proper behavior of a true lady?

  Her eyes were immediately drawn to the muscles straining against his shirt at the gesture, the tapering of his waist, and long legs in snug breeches. She swallowed again. Fear, anxiety, anticipation, desire . . . she did not know, anymore, her own reaction to this man.

  An overwhelming surge of desire for him would have her body betraying her in a second. She raised a hand to her throat, trying to dispel the traitorous feelings of her body.

  She wanted him. Wanted him inside her.

  “No one but you would dare abduct me.” Trembling fingers moved over her neck and back down to her side.

  Pushing away from the door, he slowly and deliberately advanced on her.

  She waited for the assault—craved it more than anything at this moment.

  “An obedient lady would not need to be abducted.” Stopping before her, he reached his arm out, knuckles caressing her cheek. “Such a rebel.”

  She could not allow him to believe she would concede to his caressing her again, even though she would not be pleased until he did.

  Swatting his hand away, she breathed vehemently. “Obedient! That is something I’ll never be. Not for any man.”

  His nostrils flared for just a moment. His jaw clenched, followed by a grinding of teeth. Hands fisted at his sides, he glared down at her.

  “You will be obedient, future wife, and stop evading my touch.”

  She threw her head back. “Or, what? Will you whip me? Break me? Make me a servant in your home?”

  The vein in his neck ticked furiously, but he did not raise his voice.

  “I’m not above spanking you, wench.”

  Rackham had called her a wench many times, and just remembering that coward enraged her.

  “You arrogant, son-of-a-bitch.” Anne stood up on her toes and slapped him across the cheek.

  Flinching, he grabbed her hand and held it there as she panted, his teeth grinding together.

  “I’ll—”

  She had no idea what he was about to say, nor did she care. She reached up with her free hand, grabbed him behind the head, and brought his mouth down to hers.

  It was the thing riding her the most. The fire, the passion, the desire. He could end it, or stoke it.

  Addison remained still for only a seco
nd, then all hell broke loose. Her passion and anger urging her on, she opened her mouth, and plunged her tongue through his supple lips. He opened immediately, crushing her body into him, a growl erupting from his lips as his tongue delved inside her mouth.

  Moaning, Anne tugged on his hair with one hand and began to pop the buttons from his shirt as her fingers ripped down through the opening. She fell into the hot, open-mouthed kiss as if diving from the cliffs of Curacao. She could not tell if he growled, or the noise came from her own throat. Buttons hit the floor as his hands found her hips, rotating her to bring his hardness against her core.

  His strong hands grabbed her buttocks, gripping them tightly, and slid her up and down against the part of him she desired most. “Ohhhh!” The sensation was too great. A wetness pooled in her core.

  “You drive me mad, woman.” His ragged voice only served to increase her frenzy.

  Their tongues mingled and caressed. Her skirts raised, his fingers finding her undergarments, and pulling them down. Her head spun as their open mouths collided.

  Having her most secret place bare to the air, and yet, still wearing her skirts left her devilish and wicked. Calloused fingers found her moist core, rubbing deliciously over her special nub. Her body jerked with each caress. His fingers sought the slick folds and delved inside.

  Moaning into his mouth, she pulled his head further into the kiss. Weak knees barely held her upright. She strained toward the magic of his fingers.

  More. She craved more, but was unable to do aught more than moan as they dueled with their tongues.

  As if she’d spoken aloud, he broke the kiss, making eye contact with her. Ragged breathing accompanied the deep passion in the gleam of his eyes. Grabbing her by the waist, he turned her away from him to lean over the table. Tankards and cups scattered and shattered as they hit the floor, the table moving a good three inches from the force.

  Anticipation and desire were riding her hard. His hand slid down the front of her blouse, his fingers kneading her breasts, pulling her backward into him, his mouth sliding along the side of her neck. He fumbled through her skirts, pushing up the folds of fabric.

  He lifted her leg slightly, and she felt the smooth, silky hardness of him slide swiftly up into her passion-moistened center.

  Shocked at his entry, she gripped the table for balance. A moan escaped from deep within her throat as he slid hard and solid into her. She bit her lip at such exquisite friction.

  His hips undulated to create a circular, tornado of sensation as he drove in and out of her, his hand guiding her hip to increase the sensitivity. He kissed the side of her neck, nipping the skin with each sleek pump of his hips.

  The building, spiraling sensation within her was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Assisting the rhythm along by moving her hips created a delicious ache that continued to build, as if she would implode at any moment.

  Vision dulling, the pressure mounting. Addison groaned into her ear, deliciously tickling the sensitive skin there. He reached around her, his fingers finding that special nub, rubbing it with gentle pressure. She closed her eyes during the onslaught, and could do no more than utter, “Oh God,” and the tension exploded. Her body shattered into a million starbursts and tremors, the force of such pleasure making her cry out.

  Still riding the bliss and tightening inside, Addison groaned with one last pump of his hips, and she felt his seed spilling warmth into her womb.

  Moments later, one hand remained sprawled across her breasts as they panted heavily in unison, his member still firm and silky inside her. Desire stoked again.

  Cold air replaced the warm spot his hand had filled upon her breast as he leaned back and away from her. Her chest heaved and her legs shook as she pulled her undergarments back into place. Given the explosive way they’d just made love in a tavern storeroom, she doubted her attempts to remain regally dignified had met its mark.

  Smiling to herself, she realized this man could show her many delectable things, and she’d just tasted a small portion of it. Not wanting him to see it, however, she elegantly hoisted her breasts back into her gown and began righting the tankards and cups strewn along the floor.

  “Well, that did not go the way I had planned.” He panted, his voice tinged with awe and tenderness. A slight laugh escaped him.

  “I’d say not.” She could hear him arranging his own clothing behind her.

  His hands rested on her shoulders as he turned her to face him. The silver eyes were now a turbulent gray, a green ring around the iris, startling her with their unique beauty.

  He kissed her swollen lips without warning, and she felt herself melt into him in an instant. The passion and desire exploded throughout her body, all over again. His lips coaxed hers open, his tongue reaching out to trace her bottom lip. She felt his lips turn up into a smile.

  Frustrated at how easily she had been disarmed, and knowing the sweet bliss at the end of any more dalliance with him in this storeroom, she pushed away from him. His wolf’s grin appeared.

  “The next time will be in a proper place, Anne. I promise you that.”

  He allowed her to stalk past him and to the door. Most likely looking a fright, and still feeling the heat suffused upon her cheeks from passion, she straightened her shoulders. How dare he presume she’d allow this to happen again?

  She mustn’t.

  The road to pleasure with Addison led to maddening danger. Her heart could well become entangled in those silver eyes of his. Yes, her plan must remain in play.

  “Is that where a lady would do it, then . . . a proper place? I’m not sure I would know where that might be.”

  He stiffened. She’d agitated just the right nerve, scoring a direct hit.

  “Madam, we’ll never leave this room if you keep that up.” He advanced on her, his eyes narrowed. The teasing tone of his voice was but a memory.

  Unlatching the door, she bolted through it . . . and a bark of laughter crowned her humiliation.

  Chapter 16

  Exiting the tavern and averting her eyes from the wanted poster, she caught Raphael’s bored gaze as he leaned against the tavern’s exterior wall.

  “I thought I’d sent you back to the boat?” If she were honest, she was actually quite grateful that he disobeyed a direct order. Otherwise, she’d need to ride back, probably in close quarters, with Addison. And, the way her body had betrayed her recently, no. That wasn’t the grandest idea.

  “Well, let’s find the carriage, shall we?” She gave Raphael a bright smile.

  He pushed himself away from the building, and she followed him down the street and around the corner to where a lad sat guarding the rental. He tossed the boy a few coins. The lad ran away smiling and waving in Raphael’s direction.

  Anne gave in to the urge to turn and look behind her, wondering if Addison had followed her from the tavern. The street was deserted except for a couple of sailors, no doubt heading to the taverns for their supper. Shaking her head, admonishing herself for worrying about it in the first place, she climbed in the carriage, her faithful guard holding the door open for her.

  Sitting in the hot carriage on the ride to their longboat and a patiently waiting Artie did nothing to calm the wild pulse that still beat at her throat. The entire journey up river to Cranford Hall went thusly. Her skin fairly tingled from the friction of calloused fingers smoothing over her fevered flesh, her nipples tightening at the memory, straining against her gown.

  Anne swiped her brow with the back of her hand, pulling her disheveled braid up high and away from the heat of her neck, and blew out a heavy breath. Between the warmth of the day, and the wild lovemaking with Addison, she just might faint.

  Had making love been so exceedingly satisfying, shattering, and explosive with Jack, she may have enjoyed the act, and even insisted upon partaking in it more o
ften. But, Jack was no comparison to Addison, and he’d certainly never given her so many keen sensations, or physical frustrations for that matter.

  Those unique, green-rimmed irises and silver pools of color that were Addison’s eyes floated in her mind. So mesmerizing. Full lips possessing, and hot, and the feel of his touch . . . everywhere. She swallowed hard remembering how heated, solid, and full he’d felt inside her.

  Blast and damn.

  A fan. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a blasted fan?

  Daydreaming made for a quick voyage back to the plantation. John appeared to help her from the boat, and she thanked him with a tight-lipped smile, frustrated at how disarmed she continued to be. Realizing she’d not need to project her feelings, she smiled fully as John nodded.

  “John, from whom do I request the tub and hot water? I’m afraid I do not know everyone’s duties here.”

  White teeth flashed. “I can have that done for you, ma’am.”

  She touched his arm in appreciation. “Bless you, John. Can you have it brought to my room?”

  His eyes widened slightly as if he were surprised she would touch him. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And, please, call me Anne.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rolling her eyes was another bad habit she could add to her arsenal of bad habits. He grinned.

  Sighing, she walked up the steps, into the entryway, and directly up the stairs to the nursery. Eliza had assured her the wet nurse Addison insisted be found to help ease Anne’s burden of caring for two at one time would feed the babes today. Even so, Anne had a need to feed them. She found both children to be hungry, however, and she enjoyed the hour she spent nursing, cuddling, and singing to them.