Bound by Decency

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Bound by Decency Page 29

by Claire Ashgrove


  She was not innocent. She’d lain with him before, known the certain exquisiteness of what it felt like to feel him deep inside. She just couldn’t recall it, a fact he didn’t realize.

  The words felt foreign and awkward, and she couldn’t bring herself to speak them. She chose, instead, to show him. Sliding her hands down the smooth hard muscles of his chest, over the rigid contours of his abdomen, she dipped her fingers inside the waistband of his loose trousers. She felt the tip of him, the smooth satin width of his erection against her fingertips. He sucked in a short breath through his nostrils, and for one suspended heartbeat, his mouth stilled.

  India plied at the two wooden buttons. They popped free, loosening his waistband enough that she could slip her hands inside and around to shimmy the fabric down his hips. Cain dragged his mouth back to hers. As he nudged her lips apart and touched his tongue to hers, his hands followed the path hers had taken. Together they removed the last bits of clothing that separated them.

  When they were completely bare, Cain lowered his body into hers and lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. The wide thick head of him nudged against her swollen folds, and she parted her legs to make room for his broader hips. He framed her face between his palms, his breath hard. Tenderness unlike any she had ever known filled his eyes and softened his chiseled features. He did nothing more but study her face for several moments. As if he sought to etch into his mind the memory of this moment. And then, Cain closed his eyes, caught her lips with his, and with a gentle nudge of his hips, entered her.

  India lifted into him, opening her legs as she opened her heart, giving herself body and soul. A prick of unexpected pain registered in the back of her mind, but the nip of Cain’s teeth against her lower lip focused her awareness on the sharp sting on her mouth. She moved to turn her head, and became aware of the way he surrounded her. The weight of his body atop hers. The heaviness of his shaft deep inside her womb. He lay still, and the pain passed as he made love to her with his mouth alone.

  Understanding registered. He’d breached her maidenhead. Which meant…

  A wealth of emotion rushed forward to bring tears to her eyes. This was the first time she’d given herself to Cain. She hadn’t lost that moment to a fever that muddled memories. And heaven above, he felt right, more right than anything she had ever known. So strong, so powerful, so unbelievably tender. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight.

  He stretched her wide, almost to the point of uncomfortable. But the burn was beyond pleasant. Ecstasy rippled down her spine. Yes, this. This was what she recalled from her dreams. The heat of him. The sublime feel of his skin sliding against hers. She squeezed his buttocks and let out a throaty mewl.

  Cain stilled. His lips clung to hers as he dragged in a short breath. Then another. A shudder rolled through him. He pulled in one last ragged gulp of air before he kissed her hard and moved within her. A feeling of such profoundness stole her breath. She turned her head to gasp for air. He lifted onto his hands, holding his body apart from hers, and slowly thrust into her once more. Bewildered and astounded by this newness of feeling, India could do no more than hold his intense gaze. She didn’t know what to do, how to move. How to please him. But where that realization would have panicked her moments before, when she’d believed she was experienced in love making, she embraced innocence. “Show me,” she whispered.

  He guided his hand to the small of her back and lifted her body in rhythm with his. Oh! This was more pleasant than even fantasy. No, not pleasant—glorious. Pleasure burst all the way down to her toes. Her womb clamped against a fierce wave, and she locked one ankle around his calf. “Oh, Cain.”

  “You are heaven, India,” he murmured against the side of her neck. “I could spend forever inside you.” He withdrew, nearly to the point of leaving her completely, but as his tongue traced the shell of her ear, he slid in deep. Deeper than he had been before.

  His steady thrusts stirred the familiar crest of pleasure, bringing her to that place where magic flowed between them. Where she craved more. Needed everything Cain had to offer.

  He gave it to her freely, and as he pushed hard within her again, he stroked the sensitive nub between her legs. She moaned at the shock of ecstasy that surged through her veins. She dug her hands into the tight flesh of his buttocks and arched her back off the bed. His breath came faster. Harder. His arms twitched with the effort of holding himself up.

  Nature took control of India’s body. Caught in the building tide of pleasure, she moved against him instinctively. Perspiration slickened their bodies, made the glide of his skin against hers even more incredible. They moved together as one, their breaths shared, their voices intermingling. Drop by drop he filled her up. Inch by inch he broke her into pieces. Sensation overflowed until she could take no more. With a quiet cry, she surrendered to wave after wave of ecstasy that washed through her, then burst with all the power of a firing cannon.

  He moved hard within her, then again, and again, until he choked out a hoarse groan and his body went as still as stone. Deep inside, she felt his shaft pulse as he spilled his seed.

  “Cain,” she murmured as she clung to him, trembling.

  It took a moment for the rigidness to leave his body. When it did, a soft smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I will make the next time better. But for your first, I wanted to be gentle.”

  Better? She blinked as the rest of what he said registered. “You knew? How?”

  Cain chuckled. “You did not?”

  As a flush crept into her cheeks, she shook her head. “I had dreams.”

  “Aye, dreams that drove me to near madness.”

  “I thought they were real.” A grin threatened. Goodness, she’d behaved like a complete wanton, all the while as innocent as the first flower of spring. She could not bring herself to regret it.

  He laughed again and dusted kisses against her lips. “No, little wren, I have thoroughly corrupted you.”

  Wrapping his arms about her, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, keeping them joined. She laid her cheek against his damp chest and listened to the pounding of his heart. For long moments they lay entangled in each others arms, struggling to regain control over their ragged breathing.

  Contentedness ebbed through her. He was hers here in the quiet. No obstacles lay between them. No quest for revenge placed them at opposite odds. They were as close as they could be, in body and in spirit.

  “India,” he whispered as he pulled his fingers gently through her hair.

  She tipped her head back to look at his face. Long eyelashes dusted the high arch of his cheekbones. “Yes?”

  “That house on the bluffs is a beautiful place.”

  She swallowed hard. Did she dare tell him she knew of such a place? Would broaching that subject spoil the beauty of this night?

  No, it could not. He held the dream. She possessed the means of fulfilling it. She snuggled deeper into the protective circle of his arms. “I can take you there, to the real thing.”

  His hand stilled. He tensed beneath her. “What do you mean?”

  “My father owns a house that overlooks the sea. It’s not much in the way of grandiose, just an abandoned two-story made of stone. The roof is sound, though. The floors are solid.” She traced a lazy circle over the expanse of his chest. “It is part of my dowry. I always loved the place, but before he left for Bordeaux, Richard said he would tear it down and erect something more fitting to his status.”

  Slowly, Cain lifted to his elbows. A deep crease marred his brow. “What did you say?”

  She peered at him quizzically. “I said I own a cottage.”

  “No.” Grasping her by her shoulders, he lifted her off his body and eased out from beneath her. He rolled her onto her back, his gaze harsh, his jaw set. “About Richard. How did you know he was in Bordeaux?”

  Panic seized India. For the love of the saints she’d not meant to let that slip. She searched her mind for a plausible explanation and breathed a
bit easier as she remembered Edward. With a light laugh she summoned a smile. “I was there when Edward told you.”

  “No.” Abruptly Cain sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Bending, he grabbed his trousers. “Edward only mentioned France in your company. He told me Bordeaux after you left.” He stuffed his legs into his pants and stood, buttoning them with haste.

  India bolted upright. She caught his hand. “Wait, Cain.”

  He twisted free, retrieved his shirt from the floor, and yanked it over his head. Fully dressed, he turned to her with a dark glower. “You knew all along!”

  “Cain—”

  “Do you deny it now?” His voice rose into a harsh bellow. “Do you sit there in my bed and deny the truth still? Damnation, woman, I trusted you!” He spun away and stalked toward the door.

  “Cain, stop!” India scrambled out of the bed. “Let me explain.” Hurrying across the room, she caught him by the elbow. “Please. Let me explain.”

  Refusing to look at her, he reached for the door. “There’s nothing to say. Nothing I care to hear.” With a fierce shake of his arm, he dislodged her hand. He stormed through the door, slamming it behind him.

  In the deafening quiet, a sturdy click issued from the lock.

  Horrified, India stared at the door. Sweet Mary, what had she done? How could she have been so thoughtless? Cain valued truth more than anything—it was what brought them here in the first place. And by her own slip of the tongue, she admitted she betrayed him. Just as Richard had.

  She tried to swallow around the rising lump in her throat. But the effort proved worthless, and she choked out a sob. He’d locked her in, returning her once more to the unmistakable place of captive. God’s teeth, she had to make him understand she’d kept silent to protect him, not with any intent to mislead.

  She rushed to the bed and the key she’d stuffed under the mattress. Yet as her fingers closed around the cold metal, she hesitated. If she revealed she possessed a key, it would only make things worse. Not only would she be a betrayer, but Drake as well. No, as much as she wanted to chase after Cain, she didn’t dare go now. The truth would have to wait until he returned.

  If he returned.

  India withdrew her hand and swiped at her tears. A chill descended on her. She donned her shirt to stop her shivers. She’d wounded Cain. Confessed her love, gave him her body, and cut him to the quick. In twenty years of being an only child, she’d never felt more alone. The silence in the room was deafening. The creak and groan of the ship as grating as the sound of breaking glass.

  If he didn’t return soon, she’d go mad. Even if she couldn’t restore his faith in her, she couldn’t let him believe she’d kept Richard’s location to herself out of malice. Or worse, out of loyalty to her feckless intended.

  India walked the room, sifting through her thoughts, carefully constructing the words that would make Cain understand. Yet no matter how she tried, nothing sounded good enough. Strong enough. Frustrated beyond all measure, she dropped her face into her hands and groaned. She could be no more foolish if she’d stood before a cannon and ordered the gunner to fire.

  With a heavy sigh, she dragged her hands down her face and let her shoulders sag. Fretting would accomplish nothing. She had no choice but to wait until he came back to the cabin. When he did—and he would—she’d speak from her heart. Let everything pour out until she could find no more words. Until that time, she refused to think about it. She’d sit with a book. Pretend tonight hadn’t happened and read until his footsteps graced the hall outside.

  She went to the low burning lamp on his desk to turn it up and better see the titles on his collection. As she looked to the neat rows of books, however, the glint of gold captured her attention. Drawn by the small box’s beauty, India crossed to the tall shelf and picked up the bejeweled trinket. Spanish treasure. Or was it French? It came from France, yet was bound for the Spanish king. She supposed it didn’t matter. The box originated with royalty, and the families were related.

  But what could it hold? Jewels perhaps—although it was a bit large to hold mere jewelry. She gave the box a gentle shake. It didn’t rattle like it held anything of weight. Yet clearly someone designed it to protect something important—the lock and key could possess no other meaning.

  If she hadn’t already branded herself as a betrayer, she’d dig for the key and find out for herself. By all rights, she could excuse doing so with claims it belonged to her family. A stretch, given the generations that spanned between her and King Philip, but certainly true. Still, breaking into the box would only compound matters with Cain.

  With great reluctance, she set the glittering container back on the shelf. Sighing, she went to Cain’s desk and ran her finger down her pet’s spiked spine. When she fixed this mess, she’d ask again to peek inside the box.

  ****

  Cain walked the forecastle aimlessly. The motion of his feet helped to soothe the clawing at his heart, but it did nothing to stop the chaos in his head. Betrayed. By India.

  Moments ago he had glimpsed heaven. In her arms, he experienced unspeakable bliss. An absolute perfection that he had never before known. Her confession of love spiraled him to dizzying heights, and he had never dreamed that hearing such a thing could make such a difference. Could matter so much.

  Then everything shattered. When he should have been savoring the afterglow of the most incredibly intimate encounter he could imagine, he’d been ripped from the embrace of ecstasy by a stumble of her tongue.

  Again he had trusted. Again he had erred.

  If he’d pressed her that first night in the rain, he could have resolved this entire matter by now. France was, at most, a week off England’s coast. He’d wasted five weeks. Plenty of time for Richard to move on. To slip deeper into hiding or to return to England and embed himself so securely there could be no hope of drawing him out. Especially if he knew—which he inevitably did by now—that India was aboard The Kraken.

  Even if she hadn’t meant to, India aided Richard’s flight.

  “Ye be wearin’ a hole in the deck.” Alex’s voice drifted up the stairs.

  In no mood to deal with more of her sharp tongue and heedless words, Cain cringed. He braced his hands on the rail and drew in a deep breath, hoping his silence would send her away.

  Her footsteps padded across the planks. Her hand fell onto his shoulder. “I suppose I didn’t realize she’s special to ye.”

  Cain winced. It was an apology, one long overdue, and now worthless. He ignored her offering. “Why aren’t you with Drake?”

  Mirroring his position, Alex leaned on the rail. Exercising her favorite tactic of evasion, she answered, “I suppose, it might be possible too, that I be a mite bit jealous ye’ve lost yer heart. To a bloody landlubber no less.”

  “Jealous?” Cain chuckled. “You? Territorial is more apt. You’ve no more desire to be tied down to me than I have to you.”

  A slow grin crept across her face. “Aye, I’d be afeared I’d have to kill ye when ye did something foolish like turn tail and run from the Navy.”

  Cain grunted. Drake had evidently felt it necessary to brief her on every detail of their voyage.

  Alex’s smile dimmed. She looked down at the sea and bounced a restless toe against the deck. In a quieter voice she said, “Ye’ll kill her, Cain. Out here, with us, ye’ll lead her straight to her death. She’s not made for this.”

  His heart twisted with the harsh reality. He closed his eyes against the lancing of pain, and murmured, “I know.”

  In truth, that was what had forced him from his cabin. Not India’s revelation she knew where Richard was, although that stung, indeed. But before she’d mentioned the cottage, he’d been seconds away from telling her she could stay. Hell, asking her to never leave. He’d hoped to shame Richard, and tonight, he brought greater shame to India. He had spilled himself inside her. If she conceived his child, even her father would turn from such a disgrace. If he allowed her to stay, not only would h
e doom her to a horrific fate, there’d be no question she would bear his child.

  Alex heaved a sigh that matched the heaviness in Cain’s heart. In a voice he had to strain to hear, she commented, “Some matches, no matter how magnetic, just aren’t meant to be.” Her grim demeanor, however, vanished with the swish of her hair as she pushed off the rail and straightened. “How long have ye been out here broodin’?”

  He shrugged. “An hour or so.”

  She gave his arm an affectionate pat. “Go rest. Hold onto her while ye can. Enjoy what the heavens be fittin’ to grant ye. But if ye do, indeed, care for her, prepare to let her go.”

  Cain shook his head. “She betrayed me.”

  Alex’s light laughter rang through the still air. “Oh, Cain, sometimes ye can be so infernally noble. We’ve all betrayed ye. Ye’ve betrayed us as well, here and there. There’s no use in lettin’ it fester. Unless she’s held a pistol to yer head—has she?”

  “No,” he answered begrudgingly. “She’s known where Richard is and denied it.”

  His answer seemed to stoke Alex’s amusement, for she laughed harder. When he quizzed her with a frown, she shook her head. “Tell me ye wouldn’t be doin’ the same if some stranger be tellin’ ye he intended to kill someone ye knew.”

  Not at all impressed with her candid observation, his frown sharpened.

  “I tell ye exactly what ye be doin’.” She patted his shoulder like an indulgent parent might pat a child’s head. “Ye’d deny knowin’ his whereabouts an’ gather all the information ye could to warn yer friend.” In the blink of an eye, Alex sobered, her expression stern, her voice flat. “India doesn’t possess the cunningness to plot like that. She’s too…decent.” She gave his shoulder a mighty shove. “Now get. Go live. We’ve got a ship to be findin’ in the morn, an’ I aim to have ye at yer best.”

  His best was doubtful. No matter how tonight ended, it had turned him inside out and upside down. He wouldn’t be recovering from the conflicting emotions that warred inside him any time soon. Love her. Hate her. Trust her. Doubt her. Keep her. Return her—every option held appeal. Every option also left him wide open to abject misery.

 

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