by ML Guida
Uneasiness swept up Ronan’s spine. “I never said I loved Angelica.”
Kane snorted, giving him a knowing look like he wasn’t fooling anybody. He caressed the butt of his pistol. “I know what it’s like to be powerless. I’ll never forget her anguished pleas, her soulful eyes, and D’Aubigne’s piggish grunts.”
Ronan gritted his teeth. D’Aubigne was a foot shorter than Palmer. Shite! Angelica must have endured hell with the beast of a man. Why had he said he didn’t love Angelica? Hell, he didn’t know what he felt about her. But love? Could he really be in love with her? She wasn’t human, but then he’d not been human for a long time. Either way, he had to make sure Angelica stayed safe and that Palmer never laid a finger on her tender flesh again. “I need to see her, Capt’n. I promise na to wake her. Please.”
“Very well. But put some clothes on, man.”
“Aye.”
He dressed, refusing to allow Kane to help him. It took him longer to put on his trousers and button his shirt, but he wasn’t a bloody eejit, and he could dress himself. He followed Kane down the corridor to his cabin. His heart pounded. Why hadn’t he seen what happened to the lass? He was too damn wrapped in his own misery. A selfish bastard, he was.
“Donna wake her.” Kane opened the door. “Or Hannah will have me sleeping with the crew.”
“I wilna.” Ronan slipped inside and shut the door quietly.
A lantern glowed and cast small shadows on the wall. Soft snores warmed his heart. He stepped close to the bed. Blond hair draped over a pillow, and Angelica was curled into a ball. Her long lashes graced her cheeks. Even in sleep she was beautiful. He wanted naught more than to undress and crawl into bed, curl beside her, holding her in his arms.
Fighting back his urge to love her, he sat on the bed, and with a shaking hand, pushed her silky hair back behind her ear. “Such a bonny lass.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she rolled over on her back. He stared into her eyes. His mother had always told him that you could tell if a lass was pregnant by her eyes—they sparkled. Angelica’s were blue, the prettiest he’d ever seen, but did they sparkle? Damn it, he couldn’t tell.
She stretched her arms, and the sheet lowered. She wore a shirt, and he blinked. ’Twas one of his.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “Hannah offered for me to wear one of the captain’s but it felt too strange. Mariah brought me one of yours.”
“No, I donna mind. You look better in it than I do.” Unfortunately, she looked tempting, and he ached to slip the shirt off her, feasting his eyes on her lovely curves.
She smiled. “Thank you. What happened to your cheek?”
“My face?” He rubbed his cheek and winced. “Nothing.”
“I don’t remember your face swelling when you landed on the Soaring Phoenix.”
He shrugged. “Enough about me. I wanted…” The words swelled up in his throat.
She took his hand and kissed his knuckles, her tongue flickering over his cuts. “You wanted to do what?”
His heart quickened, and his cock hardened. He groaned. He wanted to lean over and kiss those luscious lips, but he wasn’t here to lavish the lass. He was supposed to be making sure she was safe and well, not satisfy his own lust.
He pulled his hand away, and Angelica gave him a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes clouded, and she turned on her side. “They told you, didn’t they?” Her voice cracked. “They promised they wouldn’t tell.” She curled into a tight ball, pulling the covers over her.
He stroked her hair. “Who’s they?”
“Hannah and Mariah.”
He had to strain to hear her.
“They didn’t. The capt’n did.”
“He knows?”
He couldn’t stand the dread in her voice. “Aye.” He picked up a lock of her golden hair and inhaled. He detected flowers. Lavender.
She edged further away, pulling the strands out of his fingers.
“Angelica, what did Palmer do?”
“Why?”
“I must know.”
She jerked around, tears flooding those beautiful blue eyes. “You want the sordid details?”
He winced. “No. I just canna…”
“Bare to touch me? They didn’t rape if that’s what you’re wondering. Not that you care.” She flounced back onto her side, her back facing him, and sobbed.
He clasped her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.”
He snatched back his hand. “I’m sorry. ’Tis my fault.”
“Your fault?” she sniffed. “How is this your fault?”
“I should have defended you. I’m a vampire. I should have been able to protect you.”
“Ronan, you were strapped to the rack.” She glanced over her shoulder. “How could you defend me?”
“I’m a vampire. I should have found a way. I never wanted you to get hurt. I swear I didna.”
“I’ll heal. Just leave, Ronan. Please.”
But the tears glistening in her eyes pierced his heart. “Angelica.”
“Please. Go.”
Her soft whimpers tore his gut. He was as bad as Palmer and couldn’t bear it. Going back on his vow, he stretched out on the bed and pulled Angelica into his arms. She pushed on his chest, but he held her. She buried her face into his chest, her fingers clutching his shirt. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back.
“I couldn’t...fight...him.” She looked up at him, her cheeks wet. “If I did, he said he’d hurt you. I couldn’t bear it.”
He stilled. She offered herself to Palmer to save him? “Why? I’m immortal. I wouldna die.”
She stared into his face. “Because I care about you, Ronan. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”
“Bloody hell, lass.” His resolve weakened, and he kissed her face, tasting her sweet tears. He pushed open her mouth with his tongue, wanting to wash away any doubt that he desired her. The lass had sacrificed herself for him freely. No lass had ever done this. How could he deny his feelings for her?
He swept kisses over the slender arch of her neck down to where his shirt shadowed the mounds of her flesh. He detected no bruises around her neck which was strange. Palmer wasn’t known for being gentle with women. The whores in brothels often were bed-ridden after he left, their bodies battered and bloody. His heart nearly broke thinking of Angelica sharing their same fate.
“Love me,” she said. “I want to forget what he did to me. I want to forget the stink of his breath, his hands, his smell. Please. Don’t make me beg.”
“Angelica, I canna.”
She lowered her gaze, pushing on his chest. “Please leave.”
He rolled on top of her pinning her. “I want you, Angelica.”
“But you can’t stand that Palmer touched me.”
“No, that’s not it.”
She turned her head away.
“But ’tis naught what you think. ’Tis Zuto.”
She pushed his hair away from his face. “’Tis how you got the bruise, isn’t it? He came to you in a dream.”
“Aye.” He rested his forehead on hers. “He wants our child.”
“He thinks I’m pregnant?”
“He’ll never come close to you.”
She put her hand on her abdomen. “How can he know I’m pregnant when I don’t even know?”
Ronan shrugged. “Black magic.”
“And you believed him?”
“I donna know. He’s a crafty demon.” He rubbed the bridge between his nose. “Hopefully, it’s not true.”
She stiffened. “You don’t want a baby, or you just don’t want a baby with me.”
He lowered his hand. “I’m cursed, Angelica. A vampire. I have the most ruthless pirates on the open sea wanting to chop my head off. Can you imagine what Palmer and his maggot crew would do if they knew I had a child? I canna risk it.”
She didn’t answer for a long painful minute as if she was battling not to cry. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.
/> She cleared her throat. “Why does he want our child?”
“If it’s a lass, he wants to use her for some blasted spell, but if it’s a lad, he wants you to miscarry.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s a fiend.”
“He’s a blood-thirsty demon.” He caressed her hand. “I promise I wonna let anythin’ happen to you. We need to get you someplace safe.”
“Where? Ronan, we can’t leave in fear about what will happen. We have to live each moment as if ’tis our last. I could die tomorrow or a year from now. I’m aboard the Soaring Phoenix. I know he’d have to kill all of you before he could get to me.”
She kissed him, and he groaned, his will crumpling. He untied her shirt and slipped his hand inside to cup her breast, and she cried out.
He stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
She smiled. “No. It just feels so good to have you touch me, and it helps me forget Palmer.”
“Did...did...he rape you?”
“No. He forced me to lay next to him, but I was fully clothed.”
He frowned, trying to determine why Palmer wouldn’t satisfy his own lust. Palmer cared little for the dignity of his female captives. None had survived once taken aboard the Fiery Damsel. He left them bruised and drained, then handed him over to his men, who made them wish for death. “Donna get me wrong, but why didna he?”
“Because Zuto threatened to kill any man who did.”
“Never thought I’d appreciate the demon.”
Terror flickered in her eyes. “But Palmer said...he said...once Zuto was done with me...”
She clung to him, and her body trembled. Her hair shrouded her face. A knife sliced his heart in two. How could a man threaten such a bonny creature?
He cupped her quaking chin. “He’ll never have you. I swear.”
Tears glistened in her huge eyes. “My brave pirate. Kiss me.”
Ronan could no longer deny her. Hell, he needed to kiss her just as much as she wanted it. Zuto could rot in hell.
He lowered his head and captured her soft lips, his tongue gently opening her mouth to taste her sweet honey again. Their kiss deepened into desperation as if both of them were afraid this would be their last.
Angelica ran her hands lightly over his back, and he covered her body, hoping he didn’t hurt her. Her abundant curves crushed against him, and he’d never tire of her body molding to his. She was his and would always be his. Their hearts had the same frantic beat, their skin the same heat. They were one.
He ran his hand along her curves down to her buttocks.
She jerked and yelped.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Keep kissing me.”
“Angelica., I’ll naught continue unless I know what caused you pain. I thought you said Palmer didn’t hurt you.”
She glowered. “He didn’t. Well, at least, not that way.”
He put his elbows on either side of her face, forcing her to look up at him.
“What did he do?”
“It wasn’t just him, Ronan. ’Tis just bruises. They’ll heal. I don’t want to argue.”
Fury flooded Ronan’s body. There had been more than one? What had the bastards done? Not waiting for her to answer, he rolled off her, yanking the blanket.
“Ronan!”
He ignored her shocked look and flickered his gaze over her scantily clad body. The shirt she wore barely contained her curves. There weren’t any bruises on her arms or creamy thighs—a small relief. But something made the lovely lass cry out.
“Roll over.”
She tilted her chin. “No.”
He raised his eyebrow. “No?”
“I told you I’m fine.”
“You’re not foolin’ me.” He clasped her arm and forced her to turn over onto her tummy. He hated being a brute, but she left him little choice. He lifted the shirt. Ugly purple and blue bruises marred her backside. ’Twas as if she’d been beaten with a paddle. “By the gates of hell, next time I see the crew, they’ll pay for touching my woman.”
“Your woman? How can you say that when you toss me around like they did?” Ice replaced her warm tone and anger flashed in her eyes.
Ronan clamped his jaw tight. “I wouldna have, if you’d done what I asked.”
“Done what you asked? You are like them.”
He caressed her hair. “No, I’m not. I’ll never hurt you, Angelica. I just canna bear to see you hurt. Doc has some salve that can ease those bruises. Will you allow me to attend you?”
She lifted her head over her shoulder—an angry tempting goddess. She was more beautiful than Aphrodite.
“Since you’re asking—yes.”
Ronan exited quickly before she changed her mind. When he returned, Angelica lay exactly how left her—her bruised, but luscious backside barely covered with a blanket. He hurried to her side and put the jars of salve on the stand next to the bed.
“What’s in those jars?” she asked.
He unscrewed a lid. The smell of freshness and mint filled the room. “Doc’s salve. Mariah gave me some oils she was making, too. I think she knew I needed it. Damn uncanny.”
“Mariah and Hannah already put some salve on me.”
“Trust me, love.”
His heart skipped five beats, and he forgot to breathe. He stopped turning the lid on the jar. Had he just said love? Blimey, he was more rattled than a cabin boy during his first battle at sea.
Angelica hadn’t said anything or responded, and lay quietly.
Forget it. ’Twas a slip, ’twas all. “Lay still.”
She moved, pulling the blanket tighter.
He sat next to her. “Pull the blanket down.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Hurt echoed in her voice.
“You won’t,” he said. “You’re a bonny lass who should be worshiped—a yellow butterfly caught in a spider’s web. Now, let me untangle you.”
She stuck out her chin, doubt flickering in her eyes.
“Please, Angelica.” He hoped his voice was tender enough for her to trust him.
The fierceness around her tight mouth lessened, and her rigid fingers, clutching the blanket, slowly relaxed. She tossed the blanket aside. “Fine.”
He rubbed the salve onto her buttock, careful not to hurt her. Long finger marks were imprinted on her sweet cheeks along with cruel black, purple, and blue bruises.
As he rubbed it into her skin, she tensed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I donna mean to hurt you.”
“’Tis just tender.” She hugged her pillow.
He couldn’t resist and leaned over to kiss her pearly shoulder. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”
She looked at him. “Why did you do that?”
“Because you’re beautiful.” He avoided her eyes, afraid he’d say something else he was to coward to admit. Changing the subject, he said, “Doc swears this aids the healing process.”
“Has he used it on you?”
“Aye. And I’m a quick healer.” He laid a warm poultice on her backside.
She squirmed. “Now, what are you doing?”
“It’s a poultice made of mint, flax seed, and comfrey. It will help heal your bruises and ease the pain.”
He poured some of Mariah’s oil onto her back.
She jerked. “What are you doing now?”
“Relax. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
She flashed him a wary look but laid her head back down onto the pillow. He slid his palm across her bunched-up muscles, manipulating the oil across the rim of her shoulders and into the crook of her neck. He used his thumb to depress the knots and tightness he found there, stroking, kneading, and maneuvering each knuckle of her spine to draw out the neighboring tension. ’Twas slower and clumsier than usual since he did not have the use of his right hand. He wanted this to be special for Angelica, to ease the memories of the Fiery Damsel.
She gave him a low,
throaty moan of approval. “Mmmm, your hand is magic.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m just getting started.” He ran his fingers down her silky thigh to her lovely calf. He raised his eyebrow at her toned calves and thighs. She wasn’t like Mariah, who was soft as a kitten. No, Angelica was strong as a tigress, ready to battle when he needed her.
A fine sheen of moisture broke out across his brow as he fought not to seduce the lass. He returned to the attention of his task and stroked, kneaded, and manipulated her tender flesh, enjoying a tickling squeak for his hard work. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, ’tis...I don’t know what to say.”
He laughed at her gasping voice. When he worked his thumb into the arch of her foot, she wiggled on the bed as if it were a sexual tryst. He ran his hand down her other leg, grinning as her hands flexed and curled into fists while she muttered under her breath.
“Ronan,” she whispered.
“Aye, my lady?”
“Please kiss me.”
He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “Kiss you?”
She rolled over, the blanket falling away revealing her beautiful breasts and curvy body that stole his breath, sending his heart beating at a nervous pace.
“Don’t make me beg.”
The plea in her voice and lust in her eyes broke the last of his will.
***
Angelica’s heart pounded, afraid Ronan would turn away, but he didn’t disappoint. He lowered his head, capturing her parted lips, kissing her with a thoroughness that left her breathless.
She needed to lose herself in his lusty kiss. Zuto had said she was pregnant. Undines were different in their gestation than humans. Humans would feel a baby moved at fifteen weeks, but she wasn’t human. She’d know after one week, but she couldn’t tell him this, not until she knew. Or should she tell him? He’d made it clear he didn’t want a baby.
Pushing aside her worries, she put her hand around his neck and pulled him to her. She slipped her hands up his back, running them over his muscles that were as hard as a solid plate of armor.
“Angelica,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”
He stretched out his body on top of hers, centering his flesh in between her thighs. She wanted him inside her again and knew he wanted her. Why would he deny them this wonderful pleasure?