by Lora Thomas
“Yes, Mother,” Kristina whispered.
“It’s time to wake up now, Kristina.”
Kristina’s eyes flew open. She shot up, breathing heavily, and looked around the room. She blinked rapidly and rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the fog of her dream. As she looked around the room, she realized that Max had not returned last night. Throwing the covers off her legs, she slid out of bed. When her feet hit the floor, something went darting past her. She let out a faint screech and hopped back in the bed. She watched as a mouse went scurrying under the bed.
“Damn little rodents,” she mumbled. She moved to the edge of the bed and stretched out, attempting to reach Max’s cutlass where it hung from the chair. Her fingers were just inches from reaching her target. She stretched further out, afraid to get out of the bed thanks to the sight of that stupid mouse. “Almost got it,” she mumbled as she strained just a bit more. At her last stretch, she fell out of the bed. Panic set in as she realized she was now on the mouse’s territory. She sat in the floor, frozen. She watched as the mouse darted under the door, out of the room. A relieved breath left her body.
The coolness of the floor reminded her of her intention. She needed to dress and go to the galley to prepare breakfast for the crew. As she stood, a pain shot through her left hip. Rubbing the area, she lifted the hem of the white shirt, looked down and noticed a faint bruise making its appearance. She winced as she took a step. This is all Max’s fault. If he hadn’t called her names, they would not have fought, and he would have been her now to protect her. He said he would always protect her! Granted he meant from people, not vermin, but still it was the principle. As she dressed, the prior evening’s events entered her head along with her mother’s words. Well, if he thinks that all women are useless untrustworthy whores and her mother said to give him space, she would grant them both what they wanted. Max had told her the storage room was hers and now it was going to be.
Max gazed out at the dark sea and Alex’s words kept returning to him. Throughout the night they ran through his head. He did look at Kristina like Alex’s parents looked at each other, but he didn’t know why. Was Alex insinuating he was in love with her? He didn’t even know what love was. The only women who had ever showed him any type of kindness were Alex’s mother, Helen, and Alex’s housekeeper, Mrs. Potts. But it was only kindness they showed him, not love.
It was still dark out, but he could sense the morning coming. The crew was beginning to stir. He peered out across the dark ocean and the faint call of a distant sea gull could be heard. He could make out the shadowy dark image of a squadron of pelicans as they flew to their hunting grounds.
Samuel approached him. “What do you want, boy?” Max asked without turning around. He knew the sound of the youngster’s footsteps. Samuel had tried many times to sneak up on him, but to no avail.
“Where’s Kris?” Samuel asked, his concern apparent.
“She’s not in the galley?” Max question. Samuel shook his head. “What about our quarters?”
Samuel shook his head a second time. “I knocked, but no one answered.”
Max pulled his mouth tight, quickly left and preceded below deck. He opened the door to his quarters. The room was empty. All the broken glass from last night had been cleaned up and the bed was neatly made. As he turned to leave, he heard a faint noise coming from the storage room next door.
When he opened the door to the storage room and found Kristina inside, it felt like a huge weight had been removed from his chest. The tension in his body was replaced with curiosity as he watched her. She was trying to move a heavy crate. She had her back pressed against it, her legs strained against the weight inside the crate, but it would not move. She whispered a curse word and kicked the crate.
“What are you doing?” Max asked.
She glared at him through slanted eyes, her anger and hurt apparent. She didn’t answer him, but tried to move the crate again. As she strained against it, the only thing that slid was her booted feet. She was determined to move the crate. She would be damned if she was going to sleep in that room again with that man!—despite what her dream had told her. If she could get this crate next to the other one, it would make a suitable place to sleep, off the floor, away from mice—away from Max. She made an unladylike sound, placed her back to the crate and shoved it again. The crate screeched in protest as it began to move, but she slipped and fell to the ground, landing on her backside beside it. Tears of frustration and anger began running down her cheeks. She crossed her arms over her knees and laid her head on her forearms as the tears came.
Max crossed the room to her. He knelt down beside her and reached for her. Before his hand touched her, he heard a faint, “Just go away.”
He watched as her body moved from her silent sobs. “Kris,” he whispered in return as he placed his hand gently on her arm.
She jerked her arm back and raised her head to glare at him. “Why are you here? To lash out at me again with that razor tongue of yours? To call me names?”
Max watched as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss them away. The realization of what he was feeling hit him with the force of a hurricane. Gathering his bearings, he told her, “Samuel couldn’t find you. He was worried.”
“Samuel?” she questioned bitterly. “Figures. I should have known you wouldn’t be worried about me.” She pressed her back against the crate and attempted to move it again.
She was trying to start a fight. He ignored her barb and instead asked, “What are you doing?”
Kristina snapped her gaze to his. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to sleep in that room with you ever again. You said this storage room was for my use, so I’m going to use it as my quarters.”
Her defiance enraged Max. “Like hell you are! You’re my wife and you will sleep with me in my quarters.”
“Oh, is that how it’s going to be now? As I recall, last night you made it quite clear that you have neither a need nor a desire for a wife. So why should I oblige you? Just because the captain and his arbitrary will says we’re married doesn’t mean it’s so!”
Max stood up, and in one swift move, swept Kristina up in his arms. Her struggles against his strength were futile. She was no match for this well-toned muscular man.
“Put me down!” she demanded.
He ignored her demands and proceeded out the door and into his quarters. He walked to the bed and dropped her on it. As she struggled to right herself, he walked to the door and locked it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled.
To be honest, he had no clue what he was doing. She kept him so confused. He was frantic with worry when he thought she was missing and ecstatic when he found her safe. When she was crying, he wanted to comfort her, but in the next instant he wanted to strangle her for her fury. Now—well, now he wanted her, plain and simple.
She jumped out of bed and stormed to him. She pounded on his chest with her fists. In one quick move, he pulled her to him and kissed her. She fought him at first, but as his kiss lingered on her lips, she began kissing him back, their anger fueling their passion. His tongue quickly darted into her mouth, meeting resistance only when hers found his. He pulled her close as the kiss became more passionate.
She groaned into his mouth. She didn’t want to give into this man. He made her so angry, but yet she wanted him. She had wanted him from the first time she saw him. She still wanted him, even now, even though he did not want her as his wife and never would.
She could feel the coolness of the room on her skin as his hand pulled the laces loose on her blouse. His hand quickly found her breast and began roughly kneading it. He took her nipple between his fingers and roughly rubbed and caressed it, causing a small gasp of pleasure to escape her mouth. Her nipples reacted to his touch, becoming pert and hard under his commanding touch.
She pulled at his shirt, needing to feel his muscular chest under her hands. She tore away from his kiss
and desperately pulled his shirt out of his pants. She grabbed the bottom and pulled it up over his head. She watched as his chest rose up and down with each rapid breath. Her index finger traced the muscles on his chest. Capturing her hand in his, he pulled her hand to his mouth and suckled her fingertips.
His desire for her was evident in his dark smoldering eyes. He had never wanted another woman like this before. He craved to be buried deep inside her, to feel her warmth, her wetness, surround him. His hands went to work on her clothing. Before he knew it, they both stood naked in the center of his quarters. He wrapped his arms around her body and assaulted her senses again. The feel of her naked body pressed to his intensified his arousal to the point it was almost painful.
She could feel his manhood pressed against her belly, so thick and hard, and it excited her, causing a fire deep inside her. She pressed her body to his and lifted her leg to his side, needing to feel his body closer. She felt his hands on her backside as he lifted her off the floor to him and she wrapped her firm legs around his waist.
He turned their bodies. Suddenly, she felt the wall against her back. Before she could respond, he entered her in one swift move. Her back arched with the pleasure of his shaft entering her. She could feel him move in and out of her with such fury, such passion. The position he placed her in allowed him to embed so deeply inside her it was if he had invaded her soul.
She clung to him and moved her hips against him. With each thrust, she could feel her back move up and down against the wall. As she would slide back down, he would penetrate deeper into her core.
She was so wet, so warm around him. With each thrust, she became wetter. A loud moan escaped her parted lips as he thrust ever deeper inside her. No matter how much he pumped her, he just couldn’t get deep enough. He wanted to explode inside her so badly, but not yet. He wanted to see her face as she climaxed. His lust began to overpower his senses. He felt her nails run down his back as she clung to him. She moaned again as her back arched, leaving her throat exposed to him. Leaning over, he gently nipped her neck. She wrapped her hands around his head. He kept thrusting harder, deeper, and when he didn’t think he could hold on any longer, he felt her body tighten around his and felt her wetness run down him. He felt her every shuddering spasm as she climaxed. He went over the edge then and exploded inside of her.
Kristina clung to his body after her pleasure subsided and felt a shudder run along him. Both were breathing heavily. She laid her head on his chest as he carried her to the bed.
He lay down beside her and pulled her to him, engulfing her tiny frame in his large arms. She snuggled down in his embrace, feeling safe—protected. Neither spoke, the contentment of the aftermath of their passion consuming them both. She didn’t want this to end.
Neither had slept well the night before and they began to drift off to sleep. A small smile crossed Max’s face as he felt her move closer to him. He loved the feel of her body against his. A small sigh escaped her as he pulled her closer, needing to feel her. As she drifted off to sleep, a faint “I love you,” escaped her mouth.
Chapter Fifteen
She loved him?! No, surely he had heard wrong. He must be mistaken. If his own mother couldn’t love him, then no woman could. Pulling her closer, he looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms. Her long dark lashes rested on her high cheekbones, her full red lips were slightly parted as she slept. The corner of his mouth curled upward as a faint snore exited her mouth.
She had turned his world upside down. Never in his life would he ever have imagined a woman disrupting his life the way she had. He acted and behaved in ways that weren’t in his nature. When he saw that man’s hands on her the other day, he would have killed anyone trying to stop him from getting to Ronald. He wanted to protect her. No, he needed to protect her, and he would continue to do so.
The realization of what had transpired hit him full force. They had argued about getting a divorce, yet as he lay there with her in his arms, he realized he didn’t want a divorce. He enjoyed her company. She was smart and witty. He never knew what she would do or say—which normally infuriated him—but coming from her, he found it refreshing. He found himself wanting to please her and keep her happy.
He hadn’t planned on getting a divorce until he made sure his babe didn’t grow in her belly. A thought crossed his mind—as long as he kept her in his bed, a baby would most definitely be made. Would that be such a bad thing? Sure, a ship would not be a desirable place to raise a child, but it would ensure that he stayed married to Kristina.
Why was it so important to him to remain married to her? This marriage was not planned; it was thrust upon both of them by Alex in his frustration. Max was outraged about it, that much was true. But wasn’t Kristina as well? Didn’t she say she did not want to be married to him? No, she said it would have been nice to have him as a husband. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to feel that way. He didn’t know the first thing about being a husband. Mr. Bailey, the owner of the tavern he grew up in, was far from a role model to base husbandly actions on. He knew she wanted love. What little love he had was ripped out of him thanks to the bitch that brought him into this world. He wasn’t even sure if he knew what that emotion was anymore.
The soft chime of the clock struck six. They had been resting for over an hour. He knew he should wake her, that Samuel would be coming to find her, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He placed a faint kiss on the top of her head. The subtle scent of her rose-scented hair invaded his senses. She so loved her nightly baths.
Easing his arm out from under her head, he quickly dressed. He watched her sleep for several more minutes before he left his quarters. As he closed the door, he turned towards the sound of Samuel’s footsteps.
Before Samuel could speak, Max instructed, “Kris is still sleeping. Fix the men a light fare for breakfast.”
Samuel nodded his head as he quickly headed back towards the galley.
Max made his way to the deck. Several of the crew were bustling about sleepily, still not fully awake for their four-hour watch. Smitty was at the helm. Max didn’t think that man ever slept. In their ten years together, Max had always seen Smitty awake. Even when they went on their jungle excursion, Smitty was always the one taking watch.
He approached the old pirate. Smitty just stared at Max, but said nothing. Max knew Smitty was waiting for him to say something about what had transpired last night, but he did not want to give the old sea dog the satisfaction.
Smitty just kept starring at Max, not saying a word. Finally Max couldn’t take it. “Is there something you would like to say, old man?”
A small snort escaped Smitty. “I see you and yer wife made up.”
Max could never figure out how Smitty knew everything that transpired on this ship. Every last intimate detail he knew about. There wasn’t a secret safe on this ship. Max believed if someone so much as sneezed, Smitty would know about it before the person becoming ill did.
“What makes you think so?”
“Cause. Ya’ve been below deck too long. Figured you two either made up er killed each other. Since you’re a standin’ here,” Smitty said as he looked Max up and down, “and appears ta be no harm done ta ya, figured you two made up.”
Max ignored the man’s insightful observation. “When do we make berth in Nassau?”
Smitty chuckled at Max’s change of subject. “Three or four days,” he replied before continuing with the conversation he wanted. “So where is she now?”
Smitty’s inquisition was working on Max’s nerves. He shot Smitty a look that told him to mind his own business, but it didn’t work. Smitty had been on The Abyss with Max too long for the younger man to intimidate him any longer. When Max first came aboard, Smitty made sure to take a wide berth around the gigantic man with the devil’s temper. After several months, he befriended Max and began to learn his moods, his temperament. Smitty knew just how far to push before Max exploded.
“Well, pup? Where is she? Ya didn’t kill he
r, did ya?”
“No,” Max grumbled.
“Well?”
Max took a frustrated breath. “She’s asleep.”
Smitty nodded his head at his acceptance of Max’s answer. He had become quite attached to the spirited woman. They hadn’t had many conversations, but he always had an eye on her. He observed how well she treated Samuel, which pleased him as well as the captain. She had great patience with the boy. Samuel had been cautious of trusting anyone since his mother’s murder.
As if she knew she was the topic of conversation, she appeared from the shadows, up the stairs towards them. Kristina was dressed wearing one of the outfits Jules had given her. She had on a pair of black trousers that hugged her hips. The red shirt she was wearing was tucked into the waist of her black pants. The ocean breeze caught one of the oversized sleeves and pulled it tight against her arms. She pulled the tapestry print vest around her tight, in order to keep the front of her blouse from filling with the warm ocean air. A long strand of her braided hair had escaped its confine and wrapped around her face. She caught the escaped tress and tucked it behind her ear.
Max just watched her, mesmerized by her beauty. Never in all his days had he ever seen a more beautiful woman. She was from the tales of stories and legends, not flesh and blood.
Smitty looked over at the younger man and shook his head. He knew it! He knew Max was intrigued by this beauty, but the look in his eyes was beyond fascination. If Smitty had to put a word to it, he would call it love. Smitty smacked Max on his back and broke the siren’s spell over the younger man.
Max’s lowered his gaze to slits. “What the hell is she doing up here?”