My Timeswept Heart

by Amy J. Fetzer

  " 'Tis well I do not, love, yet if you continue

  324

  touching me like that," he moaned when feminine muscles squeezed him more fully inside her. "Ahh— there are other parts of me I fear shall swell quite rapidly for your pleasures."

  Tess laughed, husky-soft and mischievous. "My, such an accommodating man I married."

  Dane saw the startled flash in her eyes. "What ails you, Tess?" he asked with a frown, feeling her grow tense beneath him. Dane shifted his weight, lying on his side, and curling close around her.

  "Jesus, Dane." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm not wife material." Her whispered words sounded al­most panicked. "I don't know the first thing about being one in this century. I can't cook without elec­tricity. I lived in a world with machines and pack­aged food and—"

  "Tess," he interrupted calmly. "You will not lift a finger if that is your desire. The servants will see to such matters."

  "You have servants!" she wailed. "Oh, that's just great! I can't get used to Duncan puttering around me, let alone an entire staff." She paused, eyeing him cautiously. "Just exactly how rich are you?"

  His lips twitched; she looked a bit insulted at the thought, "You will want for naught, love."

  "Careful, Dane, that's a loaded question to any woman."

  "Spend me into the poor house, my little witch," he murmured, bending to sample the lush morsels displayed for him. "I freely admit I did not wed you for the domestic tranquility you would bring to our marriage." His mouth opened.

  325

  "Then why did you marry me?" The words tum­bled from her lips in a frightened rush, her body growing still as glass beside him, and Dane paused on his way to his target. He settled back a bit, his gaze searching her features. And he saw her heart laid open for him, braced and ready to take the plunge of cutting words. Ahh, love, he thought, what a brave and fragile creature you are.

  "Because, Tess," his knuckles fanned across her cheek, "I'm mad with love for you."

  Her eyes widened a fraction, and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

  "You're not just saying that 'cause I made an honest captain out of you," she managed in a small voice. "Are you, Dane?"

  Tender humor lit his features. "Oh, nay, my sweet, nay."

  Hot tears pricked her eyes, pewter soft and glossy. "I—I didn't think any man could." Her low­ered lip quivered, and she bit it to hold back the flood, squeezing her eyes shut. The crystal droplets trickled down her cheeks. Her voice broke as she whispered, "I love you, too."

  Dane's heart slammed against the wall of his chest, ceased pumping, he swore, for an entire beat, then thundered wildly. His vision blurred, and he swiftly gathered her close, raining kisses over her face and throat. She cried, the sound ripping him in two.

  "Ahh, God." He pressed her head to his chest. "Do not weep, Tess, I beg of you. I cannot bear it."

  "Oh, shut up, it's a woman thing. You wouldn't

  326

  understand."

  "If you insist."

  "Do you have a choice?"

  He grinned above her, loving it when her curves yielded against him. "I think mayhaps I've loved you since you boldly confessed to searching my rooms," he said after a moment.

  "Cabin," she corrected with a sniffle, draping a leg over his thigh. "That was so long ago. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  His hand moved to the curve of her buttocks, filling with the plump mound. "I did not want you to believe I was saying the words merely to keep you here."

  She gave him a shove. "Lame excuse, Blackwell. It's not like I've got a rip in time handy." Then she leaned back, baring her bosom to his hungry gaze. He leered suggestively, lowering his head.

  She pushed at his shoulder. "You know, I don't even know where you live—or do you just ride the seas for the American cause?"

  God, he loved the way she talked. "My family purchased land in the Florida Territory. 'Tis just be­gun to yield sugar cane and fruit from trees I'd im­ported from the tropics," he said, then sought the skin denied.

  She held him back again. "Those wouldn't be or­anges, by any chance?"

  He groaned, his lips hovering over her taut nip­ple. "Why do I sense you already know that?" He met her gaze and saw laughter dancing there. "Speak what is on your mind, witch."

  327

  "Florida is noted for its oranges in my time, Dane, along with its beaches, seafood, and resorts." Her pitch rose as his lips closed over the rosy crest, taking it fully into his mouth.

  Briefly Dane wondered what might become of his plantation but was more interested in making love to his wife again. If she'd cease this prattling.

  "Wh-what's the name of this place?"

  Her hand, soft as a kitten's paw, burned over the skin of his chest. "Last I was there, 'Coral Keys' graced the gates."

  She stilled, lifting her head from the pillow. "But—that's where I lived! Good grief! Do the citi­zens have you to thank for it?"

  He gave a small shrug, his lips and tongue worry­ing the plump underside of her breast, a hand mas­saging her buttocks. " Tis but three families within the lands surrounding my home," he murmured against her skin. "The city is half a day's ride."

  "Well, ah—you'll be pleased to know Coral Keys doesn't sta—ohh, jeez—!" His fingers found her, warm and wet, and Tess couldn't speak as he thrust into her.

  Dane refrained from asking if she knew of his family's heritage, his descendants. Nay, their de­scendants. Would the future change now that Tess was here in his century and married to him? Sweet Jesus, it was too confusing to ponder overlong on the theory, especially knowing she was ready for him. Their time was now, and it made him even more determined to get back what was rightfully his. The plantation would not survive long without

  328

  him. And he would not survive without Tess.

  He suddenly found himself shoved onto his back with a force he wouldn't have believed her capable of. She was like a prowling cat, feline grace and that black Jaguar draping her back as she slithered on top of him.

  Her lithe body was like glowing embers searing his skin, woman-hot and musky, nearly painful it felt so good. Her fingers slid into his hair, holding him captive, and Dane's head reeled when her lips feasted on his own. Briefly she caught his lower lip between her teeth, nibbling, sipping, then brushed her tongue across his teeth, savagely outlining the inside of his lips, before thrusting deep inside his mouth. Dane thought he'd come apart at the seams with the wild thrill of her. He was stone rigid and burning to the point of agony when she spread her thighs over him, and he tried to muster the strength to move his arms. He never got the chance.

  She sat up, straddling his hips, her raven tresses an untamed swirl about her. A devilish grin coasted across her lips as her fingers wrapped around his arousal, slowly stroking him until he thought he'd explode in her hand. His muscles went rigid with excitement, the blood pulsing in his groin as his hands molded up her thighs to cup her buttocks and bring her closer to his heat.

  "Come to me, Tess. Quickly."

  "I love you, pirate," she whispered, holding his gaze as she guided him smoothly inside her. "Let me show you."

  She did, the ride white-hot and primitive. Mo-329

  ments later Dane arched, his hoarse growl of rap­ture scorching the walls of the house.

  Thundering hooves vibrated against the deserted

  shore, water fountaining out behind in a cool salty mist as the gray roan raced across the ocean's hem, kicking up clumps of sand and broken shells in its wake. Feminine laughter tumbled over the crush of waves, the pure sound ringing down the barren coast. The rider's clothing clung to her, thin and damp from the spray, molded to her body like a second skin, outlining supple curves, firm breasts taut with cold. Snugly behind her sat a bare-chested man, dark breeches covering him from waist to knee, his hands familiarly around her slender waist. A full moon hovered in the onyx sky, splashing the couple with gentle strokes of silver.

  The mount veered shar
ply toward the tree line,

  and upon reaching the seclusion of the private la­

  goon, they slid from the steed's back, coming to­

  gether in a heady embrace, their silhouettes

  blending into one beneath the shroud of palms.

  Liquid crystal flowed effortlessly down the jagged

  rocks, spilling into the tidal pool with a soothing

  trickle. The tiny realm captured the lovers, yet

  abandoned them to their desires, the elements.

  A solitary figure stood motionless, watching the

  lovers with dispassionate eyes from his perch on the

  rise above. A thin smile twisted the observer's lips

  as the man peeled off his breeches, then drew the

  thin nightrail up over her head, tossing it carelessly

  330

  aside before he drew her into the waters with him. The stranger watched her. Her body was sleek and muscled, a perfect sculpture in alabaster, he decided as she vanished beneath the water. He observed the lovers' frolic, his lips on her skin, her breasts, his hands striking her most delicate places. His ears caught the soft husky murmurs of their lust. Abruptly the man lifted her onto the rocky edge, spread her thighs and entered her swiftly, the pounding rhythm of his body increasing until her cry of delight filtered up to where the stranger stood on the incline.

  Bored with the view, Phillip turned away. He'd seen the like far too often since last eve, having ob­served the pair in their sexual play from across the avenue. The spyglass was truly a handy instrument, he thought as he swung onto the saddle of his horse and began his cautious descent. The tolling of the church bells had sent the curious to the chapel and the less honorable to Phillip. Little coin had left his purse to discover who had wed. His only adversary was here. On his island, Phillip even owned the house Blackwell and his bride occupied. Phillip owned everyone. And what a lark, he thought with a throbbing in his loins, for Dane's bride to be so lovely and young,

  "You are a bloody fool, Blackwell," he whis­pered. "You have placed your only weakness at my feet."

  Phillip hovered on the fringes of darkness, watch-

  331

  ing the pair inside the stable. Dane wasted his time currying the beast while that lovely bit of flesh stood patiently near the doors. Phillip moved si­lently closer, wanting "a better look at the woman, the soft light and her transparent nightrail giving him a display of her shapely assets. His gaze honed in on the darkness between her thighs, and his groin tightened sharply. His fingers itched to have her beneath him, any way he desired. And to have Dane know of it in glorious detail. Mayhaps even watch, Phillip considered, then quickly stepped back when she abruptly faced the doors. Unknow­ingly she moved toward him, her step cautious, her head turning left and right, searching. She lifted the gown, walking off to the right. He smiled when Dane catapulted himself out the doors seconds later, looking very much the panicked husband, calling out to her. So — Black well, your weakness has a name. Tess.

  The sun spilled its soft radiance into the chamber as Dane loosened the ties to the transparent netting, allowing it to shroud his sleeping wife in a feathery cocoon. His gaze slowly drifted over her still fea­tures, smooth and flawless, to the cloud of black contrasting against the creaminess of her slim, bare back, to the sheet tucked haphazardly around her hips and that sweetly rounded bottom. The most passionate creature he'd ever know. Or will know, he thought with a tired grin. He was exhausted, spent like an old pipe, losing count of the times they'd

  332

  made love since vows were spoken. The lusty witch, he thought, then reluctantly turned away, donning his shirt, then slipping into his boots. He'd worked up a healthy appetite, now ravenous for something more than his bride, and after stealing one last look at her, he quietly left the room.

  He rapidly descended the staircase, frowning when he heard noises from below, and quickened his pace. His nostrils caught the aroma of sausage, and he followed the delicious scent, his mouth wa­tering. When he entered the kitchen, he discovered Higa-san shuffling back and forth between the counter and table, ladling porridge into a bowl, then forking sizzling fat brown sausages onto a plate.

  The ancient man glanced up and, with an elegant gesture, directed Dane to the chair. He poured steaming Brazilian coffee into a china cup, then pushed it toward the captain. Dane didn't waste a moment and seated himself, snapping out a napkin and grabbing up the utensils. Tess would be ap­palled at this breakfast, he thought, slicing pork, then shoving the greasy chunk into his mouth, yet it was far better than the meager finds he had man­aged on their "midniqht grazing," referring as she had to their foraging through the cupboards last eve. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor with a moan, then devoted his attention to the meal. He was on his third helping when the back door burst open and Duncan barreled inside, his arms laden with sticks of wood.

  "Afternoon, sir," he beamed, then looked past

  333

  him, his smile faltering a bit. "The lady, sir, she is not with you?"

  "Sleeping, old man, and let her be for a space."

  Duncan chuckled, dropping the wood into a bin. "Tired the lass out, did you?" he teased good-na­turedly, dusting his hands on the seat of his breeches.

  Dane grunted a noncommittal response, knowing nary a soul would give him peace for staying abed with his bride for more than a day before showing himself. Twould shock the bloody lot of them, he decided, if they knew 'twas she who had exhausted him.

  Soon after, word went out that the captain wanted his officers assembled and crewmen ac­counted for. Unnoticed, Higa-san shuffled in and out with buckets and trays, and as the day pro­gressed, the house gradually filled with men, most holding their heads in their hands, shushing anyone that spoke above a whisper.

  "And the location of Captain O'Keefe?" Dane queried, hovering over a sketch of the warehouse as he covered a yawn.

  When his question received no response, he glanced up. Men exchanged cautious looks between themselves, their reluctance to offer an answer evi­dent. Dane tossed the graphite on the table, relax­ing into his chair. Only his eyes shifted to the Triton's first mate.

  "Been holed up in his cabin, sir, since you wed Lady Ren—ah—Mistress Blackwell." The red-haired officer said it as if he was betraying his captain.

  334

  Dane's expression didn't change. Was Ram's heart still bleeding for Tess? he wondered, then quickly cast aside the notion. Ramsey O'Keefe's loyalties with the gentler sex shifted more frequently than the currents of the sea.

  "Did not one of you loggerheads bother to see if the man was alive?"

  "Aye, Capt'n. Dumped 'im in 'is rack meself," the coxswain answered, his mammoth arms blocking Dane's view as he leaned across the table and snatched a sweet pastry from the platter. "Proved himself a buck of the first 'ead 'afore he winked out tho'," the sailor chuckled as he examined the con­fection, deciding where to bite first.

  Dane groaned. "I suppose I should consider my­self fortunate he failed to start another row," he muttered into his coffee.

  The room went instantly silent.

  Dane cursed viciously, slowly setting down the fragile porcelain, grinding his teeth. "Damn! 'Tis vi­tal we not bring attention to ourselves. Get me O'Keefe. NOW!" he roared. Men scattered. "And those involved in the brawl are held by the code, confined to the ship and docked a week's pay! Blast!"

  His temper had not cooled when the sound of horse hooves thundered outside the house over an hour later. Officers filed inside, expressionless when they saw the look on the captain's face. Dane re­mained in his chair, toying with the cup handle as Ramsey entered, a huge package wrapped in white cloth firmly in his hands. Grinning from ear to ear,

  335

  Ram carefully set the flat parcel aside, then dropped into a chair, slapping Dane on the shoul­der.

  "Ahh, Blackwell, you've the look of a man well-loved."

  Dane turned his head slowly, his expression carved
in stone as he said, " "I would take a century to be loved enough by Tess."

  "Where is the lass? Don't tell me you've ex­hausted h — "

  "Enough, Ram," Dane gnashed. The man's de­bauchery would cost them their lives. "My wife's state of wellness is none of your affair."

  "Someone mention me?"

  Heads swiveled around at the feminine voice, mates leaping to their feet.

  "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she responded to the greetings, yet her eyes focused on her husband. Her smile was for him alone as she swept into the massive kitchen, her command to sit down drop­ping sailors like obedient puppies onto their seats.

  Dane felt a goodly measure of pride as Tess strolled toward him. She took his breath away and, if he calculated correctly, that of every man in the room. Her skin glowed from her bath; her hair, a mass of smooth onyx, was caught simply off her neck by a thin ribbon. Burgundy satin and heavy lace rustled as she walked, the enticing sound com­peting with the pounding of his heart.

  Dane held out his arm, and she flew to him, kiss­ing him firmly on the mouth, uncaring of the spec­tators. Her fragrance, of spice and wildflowers,

  336

  filled his head, her nearness alone easing the rage that boiled in him.

  "I love you," she whispered, yet all heard. "And I you, my sweet," he replied freely, tucking her close to his side.

  Tess turned to the group, zeroing in on the man at the opposite side of the table. "Ramsey O'Keefe! Well, I thought I'd find you sprawled on the floor by now." She glanced at Dane. "Your voice carries quite well," she pointed out.

  Dane bent his head close. "I apologize, love. Did I wake you?" he whispered into her ear.

  Her hand rested on his chest, smoothing the fab­ric. "No, I missed you lying beside me," she mur­mured just as softly, and Dane groaned, his grip at her waist tightening.

  Unaware of the exchange, Ramsey shifted around the table edge. "Good day to you, lass." He grasped her hand, lightly placing a kiss to the back. "Mar­riage becomes you." He enjoyed the gentle flush of her cheeks.