Luke’s answer was stalled by Jacqueline’s return. The soft tapping of her shoes on the hard floor silenced Luke, but the storm brewing in his eye told her they weren’t finished.
Yes, they were, Sam thought. As soon as her arm was sewed, she was walking out those doors. And Luke Bradley be damned.
In the end, she simply had neither the heart nor the energy to leave. Jacqueline had offered her a bath. A real hot bath with rose-scented soap and jasmine bath oil. After that she’d been brought a tray of steamed asparagus, rosemary potatoes, tender lamb, and rice pudding rich with cinnamon. It was a feast and Sam relished every bite, her meal made all the sweeter by being able to eat it in peace. Luke had remained downstairs with Jacqueline, sparing Sam the agony of having to look at his deceitful face.
Exhausted, clean, and well-fed, she hadn’t the energy to leave. The four-poster bed that dominated the room had been turned down, and begged Sam to sink into its warmth. But she wouldn’t sleep. Couldn’t, despite the luxurious room.
Still, there was no sense wasting Jacqueline’s candles, so she blew out the flames that lined the dresser, leaving only one flickering on the bedside table. A thin veil of yellow light pooled from its wick and wax beaded down the thick pillar. Sam sat on the feather bed, the softness of which she’d forgotten over the years.
The things she’d taken for granted as a child were now a luxury. Lying on her side, Sam watched the candlelight dance exotically. Dervish had taken her family, and now she was closing in on him. Would tomorrow be the day she found him? Would her family’s massacre finally be avenged?
Then what?
She sighed, rolled onto her back. The house was silent around her. She’d heard Jacqueline come upstairs earlier; her room was directly next to her hostess’s. Jacqueline. Luke’s sister. Married to the governor’s brother, she’d proudly announced after Sam had had the courage to ask. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in her head. They were sleeping in a house they had no right to be in. If they were discovered, they’d hang. So might Jacqueline, whom Sam had come to like very much.
Luke had tricked her into coming to this house. He’d risked her life. For what? She eased from the bed and paced to the window. Surely Luke had a reason other than her arm for bringing her here. What was it?
Looking out into the darkness that enveloped Barbados, Sam wondered how the Revenge was faring. Had Willy finished the repairs? Had they spotted Dervish’s ship?
There were too many unknowns for Sam’s peace of mind. Since taking Mr. Grant’s ship, she’d been in command of her own life. The only question that remained was Dervish’s location. But from the moment she’d taken Luke on board, Sam had felt less and less the mistress of her destiny.
Tonight, however, she was too tired to consider it all. Tomorrow would be soon enough to start regaining her control. For the moment, she’d be happy with a small distraction. Remembering the tall bookshelf she’d seen in the parlor, Sam tied the borrowed pale blue robe over the matching nightgown, took the candle, and eased open the door.
Sam crept down the stairs. The doors to the parlor were nearly shut, and she pushed them open. In the corner next to the flickering hearth sat a candelabra with a fistful of burning candles. Next to it, the outline of a man she both wanted and feared.
“Luke.”
He raised a glass to his lips and drank. Sam closed the doors behind her. Forgetting she’d come for a book to help ease her mind, she went straight for him.
“Why are we here?”
An unreadable gaze peered at her over the half-empty glass. His shirt gaped open, revealing a chest which for once was free of gold chains. His legs were boldly spread wide, and Sam fought to keep her gaze level.
“How’s the arm?” he asked.
“It’s fine, but don’t distract me. You’ve strung me along long enough.”
She set down her light and crossed her arms, waiting. Luke’s gaze slid warmly down the length of her wrapper to her bare toes and back up again. Sam shifted.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice not much louder than the cracking flames in the hearth.
He was smart enough to know how to distract her, and his strategy hit its mark. A fracture split down the middle of Sam’s resistance. He’d never called her that before. Actually, he’d never complimented her without a teasing lilt to his voice or a twinkle in his eye. But as he stood there, his stare unwavering, Sam saw there was no twinkle in his eye this time. In its place was a deluge of desire.
Despite the quiver deep in her belly, despite being drawn to that hunger with all her soul, she refused to be swayed by her feelings. She needed answers. She deserved them, by God. She held up her palm and took a step back.
“No, Luke. You can’t distract me. Before any of this goes further, I need you to tell me the truth.” Her eyes begged him to understand. “I need to know Luke Bradley.”
He brought his left hand to his mustache and combed it with his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve heard the tales that follow me. What’s left to know?”
Wanting to take full advantage of his willingness to talk, Sam sat on the sofa. She tucked her feet beneath her. Luke watched intensely as her bare legs slipped from the folds of her wrap before she hastily tucked them away again. He ran his tongue around his teeth.
“Why would you risk everything to come here? What’s in this house you needed so badly?”
His gaze slowly raised from her legs.
“What makes you think I need anything?”
“Three years and you haven’t seen your sister. You’re not fool enough to risk capture for a few sutures and some brandy.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of good brandy, luv.”
She didn’t return his smile, but kept her gaze focused.
“I left something of mine here and I needed it back.”
Sam leaned forward. “I’m not a simpleton, Luke. Whatever you’ve come back for is very valuable or you wouldn’t risk your life. What is it?”
He sighed and sat beside her. “I’ve had treasure hidden in Jacqueline’s cellar for years. This was the first chance I’ve had to reclaim it.”
Treasure. She should have known he’d risk both their lives for damned treasure.
“She doesn’t know, does she?”
His lips twitched into a grin. “Not even an inkling.”
Which was probably for the best, Sam realized. Jacqueline couldn’t disclose to the authorities what she didn’t know. Still, it wounded Sam to know he’d risked her life for money. His excuse of needing a place to tend her wound, to have a good meal and bath, was not the real reason Luke had brought her here. He was. It was always about him.
He turned and ran a slightly calloused hand down her cheek. “You were never in danger, luv. Nobody knows who you are.”
“And if I was? Would it have changed your plans to come here?”
His gaze pierced hers. “No.”
Disappointment fell heavily onto her heart.
“I’d still be here. You, luv, would be tucked safely on board the Revenge. I’d have found another distraction.”
There was no doubt he was genuine. She’d seen him cavalier and obnoxious, could usually tell when he was up to no good. His gaze held no secrets now, and his sincerity let her know it mattered to him whether she believed him or not.
She nodded, and he inhaled deeply.
“When did Dervish take your eye?”
Luke took a slow breath and fingered the black swatch that covered his left eye. “If I tell you, will I get you into bed sooner?”
The twinkle was back, but she knew he wasn’t jesting. If she wanted his honesty, she’d have to give him hers. Her heart sped with the words that formed in her mind.
“Maybe. If you tell me that, and a few other things.”
His eyebrow arched and his tongue made another quick sweep of his teeth. Sam’s stomach constricted. He draped an arm over the back of the couch. The tips of his fingers tickled her neck. He didn’t look a
t her, but over her right shoulder.
“My ship hit a storm, one I couldn’t escape. By the time the worst was over, she was sinking fast. I managed to sail her a little longer and got within hailing distance of Tortuga. She sank as I rowed to shore. Next night, Dervish walks into Doubloons, looking to increase his crew.
“As I was without my own ship, I thought I’d sail with him for a while, get some money, and be on my own again within a year. I was on the Devil’s Wrath for a few months, had myself a nice share of the plunder tucked away. We dropped anchor in Barbados one night, after sacking a very wealthy merchant ship.”
His fingers crept into her hair. She shivered, drawing his attention back to her face.
“Dervish’s first mate had sailed under me once before, before I caught him stealing and threw him off my ship first chance I had. Well, it seemed he held a grudge. When we left the Devils’ Wrath, I made sure I was last off. I took my bag of treasure and disappeared into the forest. I didn’t know he’d seen me until later.”
“That’s the treasure you’ve come back for?”
He nodded. Sam shifted closer to Luke, her hand drawing his free one into her grasp. Luke watched their fingers entwine and squeezed gently.
“Two days later we weighed anchor. An hour’s sail out of Barbados, Dervish and his first mate came to me and accused me of taking more than my share of the plunder.”
His gaze burned with conviction. “I didn’t take anything that wasn’t rightfully mine, but Dervish’s suspicion and his first mate’s word that he’d personally seen me tuck away more than I should have sealed my fate. Next thing I knew, the whole crew wanted my blood. As I didn’t have any treasure with me, or with my belongings, I couldn’t disprove their accusations.”
He shrugged. “Dervish drew his sword. His crew made sure I didn’t have a weapon. A quick slice”—his hand ripped through the air and made Sam jump—“and my eye was gone. Before I could do more than grab a rag to stop the blood, I was being thrown over.”
Sam was horrified. “How did you get help?”
Luke rubbed lazy circles on the top of her hand with his thumb. He told the tale very calmly, with little emotion, but that was another of Luke’s mysteries. The main emotion she’d witnessed from him so far was desire. Everything else was tucked away, hidden behind indifference and a casualness that belied the storms she’d witnessed in his eye.
“A small fishing boat happened to be nearby, and I hailed it over. They rowed me to port. I shocked poor Jacqueline out of her skin when I turned up with blood pouring down my face.”
The image that formed in Sam’s head was awful. If she could have crawled into the vision, she’d swim him to shore herself and get him the help he needed, to be by his side so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone.
She loved him.
Her heart did a little jig as the truth dawned, but it didn’t overwhelm her. The fact that he was a pirate, and what that entailed, she’d deal with tomorrow.
She came to her knees and cupped his freshly shaven cheeks with her hands, then leaned in and laid a soft kiss on the patch that covered what used to be his left eye.
“I’m sorry, Luke. That must have been awful.”
When she drew back, a ravenous gaze met hers. If he knew what she’d just acknowledged to herself, he said nothing. The only clue that he suspected something had changed was in the darkening of his eye. As she remained on her knees next to him, they stared at each other. There were things to be said, but they both knew none were going to be spoken. She’d resisted Luke until now, fought her feelings for him. Tonight, a wall between them had crumbled. It was time to see what lay on the other side.
His hands came around her waist, squeezed, and lifted her up. Sam didn’t protest as he lowered her onto his lap, her nightgown and wrapper sliding up to her knees. He laid his head back. Heat radiated from his eye, from his whole body, until it seeped into her. The thin wrapper did nothing to conceal the firmness of his grip around her middle, nor the proof of his desire that pressed against her.
“It was worth losing it if you’ll just sit there all night long.”
Heat swirled where their bodies met. Desire folded in and clouded her mind. Strong hands crept up her back and buried in the waves of her hair. Gooseflesh broke out down her torso.
With the slightest pressure he guided her head down to his.
“Kiss me like you mean it,” he challenged.
He needn’t have dared her. She’d every intention of doing just that. Too long, it seemed, she’d danced around her burgeoning feelings for Luke. She’d already suffered unsettled nights and days thinking of him, wondering. Wanting. There were many things she’d yet to learn about him, but tonight was no longer for questions.
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned down, angled her head and poured everything she felt into the kiss. She wanted to take away the pain he’d suffered, to show him how knowing the truth about his eye eased some of the torment within her. He wasn’t simply a pirate with a colorful history of pillaging. He was a man who’d been wronged.
Boldly she slid her tongue against his, thanking him for that piece of his past.
He groaned, shifting his grip from her head to her shoulders. His fingers dug into the taut muscles, then eased around to skim down her chest. He stopped at the swell of her breasts, letting his hands rest while their mouths mated. Her heart beat frantically under his hands. She wanted more, so much more. She became the aggressor, gliding her tongue deep into the warmth of his mouth. His lungs filled with air and brought his chest teasingly close to hers.
Accepting the unspoken invitation, her hands slid into his open shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders. Then, with fingers tingling, she discovered every lean muscle beneath the silky expanse of his chest.
His heart thudded beneath her explorations. He tasted of rich brandy. She drank as though dying of thirst. Feverishly, she twisted on his lap and gasped when his arousal ground against the wetness that had pooled between her legs.
“I’m no saint, Samantha. Stop, or I’ll take you right here.”
Then, ignoring his own words, his hands lowered. He cupped her heavy breasts in his hands, lifted them up and pressed them together. His thumbs teased the nipples into tortured peaks.
Sam’s neck lost all capability to support her head. Her eyes fluttered closed as hunger ripped through her body. Her head fell back and she arched her neck, exposing both her throat and her breasts to Luke’s mouth. He wasted no time. Wet, hot, slippery lips tugged and lashed her nipples while clever hands found the pressure building between her legs. Sam gasped and dug her fingers into his broad shoulders.
“Luke,” Sam moaned, licking her lips as his fingers found the center of her lust.
“Samantha.” Luke arched his hips, grinding his arousal against her.
His mouth fused with hers in an explosion of untamed desire. Her body had never felt so alive, so incredibly beautiful. She gloried in the way his hands touched her, leaving no area unexplored, unwanted. Following his lead, she buried her hands in his hair, scraped nails across the flat nipples of his chest. Her eyes saw everything, from the way his nostrils flared when her hands neared the waistband of his pants, to the extent of his desire that reached for her when she raised her hips.
It didn’t scare her. Knowing the effect she had on Luke, that he was as lost to his needs as she was to hers, empowered her. This wouldn’t be a taking, but a sharing.
Drawing a deep breath filled with his musky scent, Sam unbelted her robe and slid it off her shoulders. It fell silently to the floor. Luke’s gaze narrowed and his hands clenched around her waist. His head, however, moved from side to side.
“Don’t, Samantha.”
She stilled. She’d be mortified if she didn’t know he wanted this as badly as she did.
“Why? You’ve said yourself it was going to happen.”
He raked a hand through his hair, hair already a mess from her fingers.
“Not her
e. Not like this, in my sister’s parlor.”
Boldly Sam reached back and trailed her fingers along his upper thigh. The muscles twitched beneath her palm. His eye wavered, then closed.
“You want me, Luke.”
In a quick move that startled Sam, he grabbed her wrist and stopped her actions. His eye opened.
“There’s no denying that. But I won’t be like Dervish. I won’t take you here. I’d pictured at least a bed when we did this.”
“I don’t need a bed. Just you.”
He released his grip. She went for the waistband and began to tug it down.
“Samantha.”
The seriousness of his tone drew her gaze from what she was doing back to his face.
“I’m a pirate, remember that. You want to be taken, by God I’ll take you. But know who it is that’s bedding you.”
Passion lay heavy in his eye, but so did something else. She smiled. Luke Bradley was worried about her. Feeling wickedly free, she tugged his pants lower. He accommodated her by raising his hips and the material slid over his backside, down his thighs, and gathered below the knees. The bodice of her nightdress was damp from his tongue, the skirt bunched around her waist. With his arousal in plain view, Samantha looked down at the man she wanted. She’d never have believed it possible, but she wanted to make love for real. With Luke.
“I don’t know what to do now,” she whispered into his ear, embarrassment adding to the heat that already consumed her, but not enough to deter her from what she wanted most. “Show me.”
He did. He loved her with his hands and lips, using his mouth and fingers to tease until she was in a frenzy. Nerves tingled and sang in every part of her body. Open-mouthed, he worshipped her breasts, ran his tongue over her throat, and whispered delectable, naughty words in her ears.
He allowed her only so much of her own explorations before taking her hands, kissing the tips of her fingers, and sucking on each one. It was as though a string connected her fingers to the core of her womanhood. Each slow suction pulled at her and left her restless.
What a Pirate Desires Page 13