When her body felt fully satiated, she realized that Hawk held her against him and he’d removed all of his clothes. She buried her face in the hair on his chest, her face burning with embarrassment and glad of the darkness. Hawk kissed the top of her head.
“I told you I’m a man of my word.”
“You are so smug,” she said, but her words were spoken with tenderness for this man who could give such pleasure to her. She lay within his arms for some moments, her eyes growing heavy with sleep.
“Beth?”
“Hmm?”
“We’re not finished yet.”
Coming awake, Bethlyn wondered what he meant. What was there to finish? She realized how naive she must seem to him when he took her hand and guided it to his hard shaft. Suddenly what Mavis had told her about mating all of those years ago registered in her brain and finally made sense.
“What do you want me to do?” she innocently asked.
“Oh, Beth, you are so very good that I almost believe you’re a true innocent. But, sweetheart, the time for playacting is long since over. I want you, I ache to fill you with me. Open your legs for me, open them now.”
Instinctively Bethlyn opened herself to him, wanting more of the pleasure she’d recently experienced. She was a true innocent, but she wouldn’t tell him she’d never been with a man before. Probably he wouldn’t believe her and, more than anything, she wanted him with a fierceness which undid all of her staid and proper upbringing. She couldn’t bear for him to seek out someone like Della or stand for him to pleasure another woman in the same way. He’d have to discover her virginity for himself.
Leveling himself atop her, Bethlyn felt him guide his manhood into the folds of her flesh. She clasped him to her, urging him to enter her more deeply, which Hawk was only too glad to do, but a quick, sharp ache took her breath away and she bucked.
If she’d seen his face she’d have been quite aware of his shock.
“You’re a virgin.” He sounded hoarse.
“Y — yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Does it matter now?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Just having his length fill her now stirred up the desire and heat within her. She gave an involuntary wiggle which seemed to nearly drive Hawk out of his mind when he issued a lusty groan.
“No,” she told him, but her answer would have made no difference, for his shaft drove fully and deeply within her. Pulling him closer against her with her slender legs, she reveled in their complete, mindless joining. All she could feel was the heat of him as he took her to a new level of desire, and finally when he gave a particularly lusty thrust, her cries of ecstasy tumbled from her mouth. An instant later Hawk grew still and cried aloud as his seed filled her.
~
Hawk’s lips caressed the top of Bethlyn’s head, which rested against his chest. He knew she was asleep by her soft, easy breaths, and for a moment he longed to wake her and take them both to paradise again. Hawk resisted for two reasons. Her body would, no doubt, be sore from his lovemaking. He’d give her a day or so to recuperate before he loved her again. However, never one to take a girl’s virginity lightly, he felt moments of qualm about this turn of events. He’d have sworn she was a seasoned prostitute and much too beautiful not to have remained virginal for long. She looked about twenty to Hawk’s trained eye, and he couldn’t help but wonder why no man had seduced her before now.
She’d given herself freely, willingly, to him. Why? This question led him to the second reason for not waking her and loving her. He needed time to think. Questions rolled around his head like the ship’s wheel. Why was Beth on a ship filled with doxies, why had she allowed him to believe she was one of them? Granted, she had fought him and practically killed him to defend her honor. His chest still ached at times from the cut she’d inflicted. Beth had told him he wouldn’t have believed she wasn’t one of the women, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that she was right. He wouldn’t have believed her.
And Mavis, Beth’s friend and the woman Crane loved, was she one of those women? Apparently not. If neither of them was being sent to Philadelphia for the British soldiers’ amusements, then why were they on Nightingale in the first place?
Only one answer made sense, and though he longed to push the thought out of his mind, he couldn’t. Too much was at stake; his work could be endangered if what he thought turned out to be true. He decided to bide his time and watch this sleeping tigress well. But until she made her move, he’d find pleasure in the taking of her lovely body.
Beth stirred and stretched a bit, then growing aware that Hawk held her in his arms, she stiffened but relaxed to recall the memory of the wondrous love they’d recently shared. With feather-soft touches, her fingers traced the angled lines of his face, and in the darkness she smiled.
“Have I been sleeping long?” she asked.
Hawk’s hand traced the soft curves of her backside. “No, but you deserved a nap, little tigress.”
Bethlyn giggled and planted a kiss onto one of his nipples. She sighed, much contented and extremely pleased with herself. She belonged to Hawk now, body and soul. The faded memory of her husband prodded her conscience some, but she’d deal with Ian Briston later. For the moment, her world was Hawk.
Lovingly, she stroked his face, delighting in the feel of his stubbled chin against her palm. Then she traced the outline of his lips, his nose, his eyes, and finally buried her fingers within the fullness of his hair.
“I’m pleased you aren’t bald,” she told him.
“Why would you have thought that?” Hawk gathered her more closely against him.
“I’ve never seen you without your head covered. I’d like to see your face.”
She felt him stiffen. “I don’t show anyone my face.”
“You’ve never shown Crane, any of your men? They have no idea what you look like?”
“Barely a handful of my men have ever seen me, and these men I trust with my life.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“No.”
“Not even after what just happened between us?”
“No.”
His voice was curt, much too cool and sounded strangely suspicious to Bethlyn. “I’d never turn you in, Hawk. Not now.”
“At least I know you think me a good lover. Thank you for small favors, Beth.”
He started to push her away and get up, but she clung to him. “Tell me why you hate the Crown. You’re an Englishman.”
Hawk said nothing at first, and she thought he was going to leave her. Instead, he settled back against the pillows. “I’m an American, not an Englishman. There’s a difference which only those people born on American soil can feel. We’ve come into our own, and as soon as the king realizes this, the better off everyone will be.”
“Then if you hate the British, you hate me also.”
In the darkness she heard a ragged sigh. “Again, Beth, you don’t understand. I can’t explain my purpose to you, because you’ve closed your mind to liberty and equality. I’d think that you, a girl from humble origins would understand. The king and the aristocracy can’t fathom what people like myself want. We want to be self-governing, and we are. A Declaration of Independence was signed only one year ago, and as far as I’m concerned, America is free of British tyranny. I won’t rest until the British are driven from our shores.”
She wondered how he’d truly regard her if he knew that she was the Earl of Dunsmoor’s daughter and the rightful owner of the ship he’d captured, but she weighed his words and found some substance to them. However, she was a loyal subject of the king who couldn’t change her allegiance any more than he could change his.
“We’ve reached a stalemate,” she murmured and felt him heave up and leave the bunk.
“It appears we have, but I doubt our political opinions will keep us apart.” He kissed the top of her nose, and she heard him dressing in the darkness.
“Where are you going,
Hawk?”
“I must tend matters on deck. Go back to sleep.” He pulled open the drapes, and moonlight filtered into the cabin. Bethlyn saw that he was fully dressed and he wore his mask.
~
Later that morning, a gentle tapping on the cabin door woke Bethlyn, and she opened her eyes to find Pearl peering thoughtfully at her.
“Sorry to be waking you,” Pearl apologized and eased herself into the room, carrying three gowns with her and two pairs of shoes. “Captain Hawk said I was to tend to you this morning.”
Bethlyn sat up and pulled the sheet about her, not able to still the blush which rose to her cheeks to be found in Hawk’s bed.
“Thank you, Pearl, but I can manage on my own.”
Pearl grinned. “I wonder about that. You and that friend of yours ain’t like the rest of us.” Bethlyn rose from the bed, not aware that Pearl had suddenly stopped speaking or that the woman’s eyes had grown wide when her gaze settled on the bed sheet, still on the bunk. “You ain’t like the rest of us,” she said with finality.
Bethlyn turned at the disbelieving tone in the woman’s voice and saw why Pearl sounded so convinced. The crimson color which rose to Bethlyn’s face matched the bright stains of blood on the sheet. Bethlyn looked away, and Pearl industriously went about changing the bed linen. When a knock sounded on the door, Della and the young girl Bethlyn remembered as Annie stood there with a large bucket of water held between them. Pearl ushered them into the room to dump the warm water in the tub, and Bethlyn didn’t miss the hatred festering in Della’s eyes.
Seconds later, the two were gone and Bethlyn stepped into the bath. She fleetingly wondered why Hawk had commissioned Pearl to wait on her, but the bath relieved the tensions which had built inside her after Hawk had left her during the night. She sensed she’d displeased him by her questions and also felt a bit used by him to so cavalierly dress and take his leave. A part of her wondered, now that he’d finally gotten her into his bed, if he’d seek out another woman. Such an easy mark she’d been, throwing herself at him like she’d done. More than once, during the hours alone, she’d asked herself what had gotten into her to act so wantonly.
Pearl handed her a clean towel when she’d finished bathing, and after Bethlyn dried off, she reached for one of the gowns she’d laid on a chair when she’d entered the room. Bethlyn suddenly recognized this and the other two gowns as those she’d packed for her voyage on Nightingale. The gown wasn’t one of the most elaborate she owned, those still being at Aunt Penny’s. In fact it was rather plain, but a becoming deep shade of violet with fine cream-colored lace on the cuffs and rounded neckline. Pearl pulled it over Bethlyn’s head and stepped back to admire her charge.
“You are a pretty one, miss, with your beautiful thick hair. An unusual color it is, too, almost like a daffodil, but a deeper shade. No wonder Captain Hawk prefers you over that Della.”
“How do you know that?” Bethlyn dared to ask.
“Well, look at yourself in a mirror sometimes. You’re beautiful and refined. Not like that common Della, not like me. Besides, I was on deck when that Crane fellow was carrying a few of your pretty gowns from Nightingale. I guess he’d taken the trunk off the ship, and he came right up to Captain Hawk, Mavis was with him, and told Captain Hawk that you might like your pretties with you. Well, that Della was standing there and she reached out to take one of your dresses, but the captain took her arm and gave her a look that could kill. That was when he motioned to me to bring your clothes to you and told me to tend to you. I think Captain Hawk is right smitten with you, miss.” Pearl smiled a toothy smile and picked up the soiled bed linen.
Bethlyn remembered how he’d left her when he finished making love to her and she disagreed. “I doubt Captain Hawk cares anything for me. I can’t wait until I’m free of the man.”
“Shouldn’t be too long,” Pearl informed her and made for the door. “I heard that Crane fellow tell Mavis that we’ll be reaching shore soon. The voyage is near over.”
A sinking sensation in the pit of Bethlyn’s stomach caused her to sit down. If the voyage was almost over, then they’d probably be set ashore soon. She’d never see Hawk again. Granted, he’d made love to her and left her, and she knew she should be more than glad to be free of him, but a part of her couldn’t bear to be pushed out of his life, never to see him again.
“Did you happen to hear how much longer until we land?”
“No, maybe Mavis or Crane can tell you. Ask Captain Hawk.” Pearl left the cabin.
She wouldn’t ask Hawk anything, somehow afraid he’d assume she might care for him, which she did. The memory of his voice, filled with suspicion the night before, came back to her. For some reason, he didn’t entirely trust her, and if he knew she dreaded the moment when she’d leave him, he might not want to love her again. She sensed he hated clinging women, and in his line of work, he didn’t need entanglements.
Besides, she had a husband in Philadelphia. She’d forgotten him during the last hours and her reason for taking the voyage in the first place. Now, however, Ian Briston didn’t matter. No self-respecting husband would want her, not after he learned she’d been a conquest of the notorious privateer, Hawk. A willing conquest, she reminded herself. Any hope of salvaging her marriage died within her. She’d never have the homelife and children she so desperately wanted. No doubt, she could convince Briston to quietly annul their marriage now. She’d simply have to tell him the truth when she saw him. The solution to ending her marriage appeared so simple to her that she shivered.
With her mind made up about her status as Briston’s wife, Bethlyn turned her thoughts upon Hawk. She knew nothing about him, except that he was a wonderful lover, an expert captain, and she felt a gentle person, but a man who’d been hurt and disillusioned by life too many times. His shell was hard, but his heart was soft. She understood that he had no place in his life for her, but whatever time they had left together, she wanted to fill that time with passion, to savor the memory of his kisses, his embraces, and the fiery need of his body for her.
She’d fill up her heart with memories of Hawk to sustain her for the rest of her life.
10
In the wavering candlelight the high sheen of perspiration glistened on the naked bodies, entwined together. Twin sighs of completion echoed within the cabin, and soon Bethlyn felt the touch of Hawk’s lips upon her forehead. Despite her sexual satisfaction with this man, a feeling of desolation welled within her. She sensed this would be their last night together, though Hawk hadn’t mentioned anything about landing in the morning. When he’d entered the cabin an hour earlier, he’d scooped her up into his strong arms and undressed her in a lazy fashion, almost as if fate had promised them forever.
Bethlyn knew differently.
In the morning he’d bid her farewell, and her heart would break. She vowed she wouldn’t cry. She doubted that tears would move a man like Hawk, but she’d smile bravely and somehow, someway, continue with her life. First off, she’d find Ian Briston and free herself from his shadowy memory. She found she couldn’t remember his face any longer, which was just as well, she told herself. Their marriage was a sham, and she’d be glad to be free.
To be free of Hawk — well, it would take a very long time to be free of his burning kisses, the intimacy of his warm hands on her skin. She lifted herself up on an elbow and gazed down at him, noting that the usually wakeful Hawk slept soundly, something he never did after making love to her. The previous night he’d loved her until dawn crested the horizon and then loved her again after the sun had colored the sky with golden streaks. Hawk was an insatiable lover, and she the willing participant, but he never slept, always leaving her to fall asleep alone.
Now, she noticed that his mouth had grown slack with sleep, and his wonderful, male body fit snugly against hers in a trusting, relaxed state. The only thing which obscured her view of his face was the mask, and the dark scarf which covered his head hid the color of his hair.
She’d
never see him after tomorrow, and Bethlyn ached to know what Hawk looked like. Would he be handsome? She didn’t care if he were ugly and bald. This man had given her hours of intense pleasure, had awakened her to the hidden delights of her own body. Somehow, seeing his face would dispel the feeling that she’d dreamt all of this when on land again. She wanted to see his face.
With tentative, shaking fingers she reached for the string at the back of his head and worked it loose. Hawk uttered a sound in his sleep, and she stiffened a moment, but with a careful hand, she grabbed the mask and gently began to remove it from his face. Swallowing hard, her whole body trembling, she gazed upon the face of her lover.
Inhaling slightly, she knew that she’d never seen a more perfect-looking man. Hawk’s eyes were closed, and long lashes rested on bronzed cheeks. An aquiline nose completed the portion of his face she’d never seen, and a thrill of excitement coursed through her at his rugged handsomeness. She even thought that his ears were wonderful looking. With an urge to see more, she pushed back the ebony scarf to discover that Hawk’s hair was the same deep black shade as the scarf.
“Oh, Hawk,” she breathed, shameless in her renewed desire for him and strangely close to tears. She wanted him to wake and make love to her again; she wanted to see his passion for her on his face when he filled her with his love.
As she watched him, Hawk’s eyes opened, and she knew without a doubt that they were a bright, gleaming green. He watched her, not with unveiled desire, but contempt. She mouthed his name again, but this time her voice shook with fear, and suddenly she wished she’d never removed the hated mask.
“Memorize my face well, sweetheart,” she heard him say. “It shall be the last familiar one you see for quite a while.”
“Hawk, please.”
He grabbed her wrist, and jerked her along his naked length. “Please what? Am I hurting you? Sorry, sweet.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, but very, very angry. “You know, Beth, I would have loved to have trusted you, but I learned long ago that women are a sorry lot to trust. No man is safe from any female. But I admit, I nearly gave you the benefit of the doubt, your being a virgin and all. However, it was your virginal state which led me to think that you were less trustworthy than the others. I mean, you were so interested in seeing my face, knowing the color of my hair.”
Pirate's Bride (Liberty's Ladies) Page 15