"Shh."
Without conscious thought, Sin-Jin inclined his head and gently kissed away her protest. It wasn't meant to be any more than that. Just a simple kiss to comfort her, to let her know she was not alone in this grief that yawned before her like a deep, bottomless abyss. To let Rachel know that he would be there to hold her for as long as she needed.
But Sin-Jin had forgotten about his own needs. And hers, those that were shimmering like rainwater in a barrel, just below the surface of the opening, waiting for someone to reach in and touch it. When he did, the water overflowed.
The kiss grew, heated, until the passion that beat madly within them like the wings of a hovering hummingbird broke free.
She knew that this was madness, that she should stop. But she needed something to make her forget the pain and the guilt that enshrouded her like a living death. She needed to feel this hot, demanding surge that pulsated through every part of her body, making her feel alive. She wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her, making her feel safe. She wanted to feel his hands on her, feel the hot imprint burning through her simple nightshirt. Purging her of pain.
She moaned as his mouth skimmed her jaw, her chin. It trailed along the sensitive skin of her throat as her head dropped back. She gripped his shoulders as the vibrations within her increased. Movements, responses materialized from some faraway portion of her soul, taking command as if she had always known of them. It was as if she had learned a dance in her sleep and knew all the steps without knowing how she knew. Her body just took over. Instincts suddenly seized control, leading her to a land she had never inhabited. Taking her there as if it was old, familiar ground and not forbidden terrain.
Sin-Jin had made love for the first time at fifteen, in a hayloft with an overripe scullery maid who was far more interested in stripping the young master of his clothes than she was in cleaning. She had been a lusty and able teacher and he an eager, willing student. During their times together, she had instructed him well in the ways of pleasing a woman. Other women had followed with fair regularity.
But now, with this trembling, willing virgin, he felt as if it was his first time. Wanting to show her only gentleness, for the first time in his life, Sin-Jin felt clumsy, afraid that he would hurt her somehow. She was trusting him with something very precious, and he was humbled.
He saw the desire in her eyes, the willingness to complete this journey, and he knew there was no turning back for either of them. He pressed a kiss to her throat and felt her heart beat frantically, like the heart of a newborn kitten. Was it from fear?
"Oh Rachel, Rachel," his words whispered along her skin, "I won't hurt you."
She knew she could trust him. Despite all the prejudice that had existed in her soul, all the hatred she bore to men born of English soil, she knew she could trust him. "I know."
Rachel trembled as Sin-Jin slowly lifted the nightshirt from her, exposing her silken skin by degrees. Dropping the white homespun garment to the wooden floor beside their bed, his hands delicately worshipped her body, like a Renaissance sculptor reverently touching the finished product of his genius.
It was as if every inch of her had been set on fire, as if she was ablaze with desire. Eagerly, Rachel splayed her hand over his bare chest, desperately wanting to make Sin-Jin feel the way she did. Wanting to entrap him in this fiery prison she found herself in. He had to feel this too. This was too wondrous to keep only to herself.
Gently, Sin-Jin lay Rachel on her back. His eyes held hers for a moment before he began to wrap her in a blanket woven of kisses, a blanket that kept her far warmer than any one that was fashioned from wool.
When his tongue encircled her breasts, she gasped, then arched, desperate to have the newly created sensation build and sweep her into oblivion where only feelings mattered.
Keeping his own desire under tight rein, Sin-Jin discovered secrets for her that she had never known existed, coaxed sensations from her that robbed her of her breath as swiftly as a highwayman cuts free a purse. And all the while, as he was teaching her, showing her, there was this wild, insistent drumming within her loins.
It was something, she knew, to be ashamed of. But shame never touched her. There was no room for it in this swirling cauldron of feelings he had created for her.
He could have feasted on her forever. She was a cornucopia of delicious tastes and scents, so easily molded, so easily instructed. Yet her simple innocence had been a far more deadly trap for him than the wiles of a far more experienced woman. He treasured every response, lost himself within every gasp and surprised sigh of pleasure that she uttered.
As her body moved against his, greedily savoring his touch, Sin-Jin could feel his own blood pounding throughout his body, demanding release. And still he toyed and suckled, savored and adored. Until he could no longer rein himself in.
Aching, he arched his body over hers.
Rachel's eyes flew open like daisies turning their heads toward the sun. He saw the fear and was awed by the shadow of trust that existed there as well.
Sin-Jin framed Rachel's face with his hands, his fingers stroking her skin. "It'll hurt the first time," he warned, "and I'm sorry for that. I would want your first time to be filled with nothing but glorious sensations."
Her eyes never left his. "It already is."
Rachel encircled Sin-Jin's neck with her arms. Raising her head, she pressed her mouth to his. His last shred of resistance crumbling, Sin-Jin groaned. When he entered, sheathing himself in her, he felt her arch and tremble once, drawing away. The startled cry that came from her lips echoed on his mouth.
And then she stopped pulling back. The pain was fading, even now forming a distant blur. A whirlwind of pleasure was spiraling up in its place, sweeping her away with it. She grasped his shoulders, surprised, delighted, confused as the rhythm of his hips brought forth a mate within her own. She moved with him, shadowing his actions as the tempo increased more and more rapidly.
What was this? Damnation couldn't follow. A merciful God couldn't create something so wondrous and then make it forbidden. She moaned as Sin-Jin initiated her in the ritual of mutual ecstasy.
Her breath grew ragged as her movements became more frantic. Whatever this was, she wanted it to never end, yet she knew that if it continued she would surely die of it. And die happily.
They were swept away to the pinnacle together. Sin-Jin made sure of it. He didn't want Rachel's first passage to be taken alone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It seemed almost a hundred years later that Rachel finally opened her eyes again. The sensations she was experiencing were much like floating down to earth on a gentle cloud; at least that was what she would imagine floating from a cloud would be like.
She turned, still dazed, to look at this man who wove such magic with his mere touch, with just his mouth. Her skin was slick with sweat and her heart felt as if it would never cease its joyous hammering.
So this was what it was all about, she thought, stretching lazily like a cat who had gotten into the cream. Why was it such a secret? She felt like shouting about it from the crow's nest.
Sin-Jin's heart quickened as he looked at her. God help him, but he wanted to do it again. She looked so beautiful, lying there. And still so innocent.
Sin-Jin raised himself on one elbow and traced her lips with the tip of his finger, guilt gnawing small holes in his soul. He had lost control and taken her innocence from her. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
Rachel's face tensed as her joy shattered like a looking glass dashed upon the cobblestones. So he was sorry. Damn his hide to hell. She fought back angry tears as she pulled the sheet to her and held it tightly in place.
Her mouth felt like cotton. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to have regrets."
"Regrets?" Sin-Jin echoed incredulously. His eyes narrowed at the hurt in her voice. "Is that what you think I'm having?"
Oh, her kingdom for a good club to use on this infuriating man. Was he going to play
with words now? Now that he had bedazzled her soul and was even now abandoning her? "Well, what else am I to be thinking you're having, the way you talk?"
Though she had stiffened like a nightshirt left on the line to dry in midwinter, he managed to tuck her against him. "Minx, if it's regrets that I'm to have about this, the only one I have is that I didn't take you that very first night I saw you."
She softened slightly as she regarded his face, searching for the lie. There was none. The slightest hint of satisfaction lit her lips. "It was good?"
He laughed and hugged her. The sheet slipped and his hand was in the way so she was unable to pull it into place again.
"Good is a very poor word to use in this situation." His eyes skimmed along her face lovingly. "Wondrous is more in keeping with what just happened here."
Her chin lifted, along with her spirits, but there were rules to play by. "You're mocking me."
"Never." Sin-Jin laughed, then lightly kissed her temple.
She could feel it happening again, that awakening, that voice that cried out within her for him. She reached for the sheet, though her movement was far from quick. "Let me cover myself."
His fingers wound around her wrist, keeping her hand in place. He wanted nothing to obstruct his view. At least not yet. "In a moment. Have pity on me. Let me tarry in this paradise just a little longer."
The hue that rose to her cheeks rivaled the glow of a roaring fire. Perhaps she had snatched up happiness a little too soon. "You are mocking me," she accused.
Oh no, he was well acquainted with that tone. Sin-Jin wasn't about to let her withdraw again. They had come too far to retreat now.
"You misunderstand, Rachel. You're always too quick in your opinions about me. Far from making sport of you, this is humbleness you see displayed before you." A smile curved his mouth. "You are beautiful."
With an annoyed huff, Rachel looked away. Undeterred, Sin-Jin took her chin in his hand and forced her look at him. "And when I said this shouldn't have happened, it was my own weakness I was referring to." The smile, she saw, had reached his eyes. "But I am only human, Rachel and you are divine temptation."
There was nothing divine about temptation and they both knew it. She found herself on shaky ground, unfamiliar as to what her reaction should be. She knew what was required, but also knew she was not given to lies. To pretend that he was right, that he was responsible for her "fall" would have been a lie. She had never enjoyed anything so much as she had enjoyed this lovemaking they had shared.
But his words demanded a reply. As she opened her mouth, there was suddenly a deafening roar that rocked the ship like a toy bobbing haplessly in a child's bath water. Sin-Jin and Rachel heard the mad scrambling of feet and panicked shouts above their heads.
Rachel looked at Sin-Jin in stunned bewilderment. The hour was much too late for such furious activity. "What is it?"
Sin-Jin threw aside the blanket and reached for his breeches. Despite the uncertainty of the situation, Rachel couldn't help looking at him unabashedly. Admiration shone in her eyes. Unlike the pathetically pale and paltry flesh that had hung from Lancaster, Sin-Jin's body was firm and magnificent. It warmed her down to her toes just to look at him.
Sin-Jin saw the way she stared and he laughed. She was going to be a handful and a half. But he was man enough for the task. Cupping her face in his hand, he kissed her quickly. "Vixen. I don't know what's going on above, but until I do, I want you to stay here."
As he moved from the bed, Rachel scrambled from it and reached for her nightshirt. She dragged it on over her head defiantly. Shaking her hair free, she pushed her arms through the sleeves as if she was delivering twin punches to the air.
"The hell I will."
Nothing had changed. She was still impossibly stubborn and foolhardy. "Rachel, I have no idea what's happening, but it might be dangerous." He reached for the sword he kept as a reminder of his past and strapped it about his hips. He glanced at her. "And the sight of you parading in the moonlight in your nightshirt might be more temptation than those poor devils can stand."
If he meant to frighten her, and he did, he realized he should have known better. She didn't have enough sense to be frightened, he decided, annoyed.
Rachel scowled at him as she shrugged into the robe that Krystyna had given her as a parting gift just before they put out to sea. She stood next to him, her chin lifted pugnaciously. "I'll not be left behind, to cower in the dark and wonder what's happening."
"I can't picture you cowering." He pulled his sword from its scabbard. Resigned, he put out his hand toward her. He knew her well enough to know that there was no way short of hitting her over the head and knocking her out that would make her remain.
"Very well, then. Come," he snapped. Now he spoke like the lieutenant he had once been. It was an order he gave her, not a request. "But stay behind me."
She yanked the ties of her robe tightly into a knot. "Like an Indian squaw?"
Even this she had to argue about. He had to be daft to be in love with this she-devil. "Like something that you're not. A sensible woman."
Rachel opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her short, slicing the air next to her with his sword. It whooshed and hummed, backing her into momentary silence.
"Another word, woman, and I'll leave you here tied to the bed." His eyes were dark and there was no room for argument. "Do I make myself clear?"
She clenched her teeth together and nodded. Rachel had no doubts that he could make good on his threat. "Perfectly."
They made their way up the darkened stairway cautiously. The sound of their movements was lost in the din.
The full moon bathed everything in yellow and cast eerie shadows in its wake. The noise and confusion mimicked a scene from hell. The deck was crowded with colliding bodies vainly seeking refuge from the enemy without. It was as if a madness had ignited aboard, with men screaming and crying in terror. The sound of a cannon being fired only underlined the horror.
Sin-Jin squinted as he tried to discern individual faces amid the milling bodies around him. Releasing Rachel's hand, he grabbed the man closest to him by the arm.
The sailor spun on his heel, panic flashing in his eyes. "Let me go!" He twisted vainly around, trying to free himself like an animal caught in a trap.
But Sin-Jin kept a firm hold of the man's arm. "Not before you tell me what's going on."
"Are you blind? It's pirates!" the man gasped, pointing a shaky finger to the starboard side. There was a ship not far off. "Can't you see her? We'll all be lost." The words tumbled out in a sob. "Slaughtered and sent to a watery grave."
Sin-Jin's expression hardened. He felt Rachel's hand on his shoulder. "Don't be too quick to die yet," Sin-Jin ordered. "Where's your captain?"
The thin man was shorter than Sin-Jin and his knees buckled as he trembled. He looked around frantically, as if he was searching for somewhere to hide from the deadly cannon fire.
Sin-Jin shook him, attempting to free the man from his stupor. "Your captain, man?"
Rather than answer, the sailor pointed again. This time it was toward the front of the ship. The captain lay sprawled out on the deck, wounded. Two young sailors, not old enough to place a blade to their faces, milled around the man like sparrows about a chick that had fallen from their nest.
The sky lit up as another volley thundered into the night. The ship lurched from the force of the cannonball sinking not a foot off its starboard side. Rachel pitched forward, but grabbed the mast to steady herself. She hurried past Sin-Jin to the captain. On her knees, she cradled the man's head in her lap. He was unconscious, but still breathing.
All around them, sailors were scattering like mice before a cat. They were aboard a merchant vessel, not a fighting man o' war. Sin-Jin looked at the older of the two sailors. "What's happened here?"
The boy, his nightshirt stuffed into his britches, gave Sin-Jin the same befuddled look the other sailor had had.
"He's hurt," he blurted out, as if it
wasn't apparent to anyone who looked. "He went down in the first assault." He pointed over their heads. "The mast broke and a piece of it stabbed him in the shoulder," he added brokenly. "Are we going to die? Will they haul us off in irons?" He hiccupped as he tried to keep from crying and disgracing himself.
"We're not defeated yet," Sin-Jin told him. Although we probably will be. He looked around. Why wasn't there anyone in authority trying to organize these men? "Where's your first mate?"
Shoulders the thickness of twigs rose and fell. "Sick," the boy admitted.
His friend scanned the sky nervously, waiting for the next assault. "Rum poisoning's more like it," he grumbled under his breath.
"Oh God, we're lost," the first sailor lamented. Eyes that belonged to a hunted animal looked to Sin-Jin for deliverance.
Sin-Jin saw Franklin hurrying toward them, his heavy robe flapping on either side of his spindly legs. The captain stirred.
Rachel tugged on Sin-Jin's breeches. "Sin-Jin, he's awake."
The grizzled-looking captain opened his eyes and stared unseeing at the men who were gathered around him. "Someone has to take over the ship," he said weakly. Sin-Jin leaned closer to hear him. The captain grasped his shoulder and blood oozed from between his fingers. "They're going to board us."
And he had hoped, with the pending peace, that they were done with this. The war seemed endless. "What cargo are you carrying?" Sin-Jin demanded.
"Tobacco." The captain swallowed, trying to gather enough strength to stay conscious. "But they have no way of knowing that."
Sin-Jin straightened and felt Franklin's hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he read the words in the man's eyes. "The mantle of leadership seems to have fallen to you, Sin-Jin."
"Me?" Sin-Jin shook his head even as the ship rocked once more. They couldn't all miss, he thought. And the pirate ship was edging closer to them. "I know nothing about a ship."
"But you do know something about fighting," Franklin reminded him. He glanced momentarily at Rachel for emphasis before continuing. "About defending your ground."
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