Three Redeemable Rogues

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  He squeezed her arm. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Just getting another blanket.”

  “You can share mine!” she offered at once, and lifted the blanket for him to climb beneath.

  He hesitated. “Uhhh... maybe that’s not such a good idea, Sophia.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she scolded him. “It’s perfectly all right!” Her chest hurt a bit as though someone were sitting on her, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. The nightmare was with her still, and the ship’s rolling was making her anxiety worse. “Please, don’t go!”

  He didn’t sound the least bit assured. “Well ... all right,” he relented, and slipped beneath the covers.

  Sophie stiffened at the feel of his bare chest against her arm, and he noted it at once. “I did warn you,” he told her, his voice low.

  Sophie swallowed convulsively.

  “It’s all right,” she assured him, and hoped it didn’t seem so terrible a thing that she didn’t want him to leave her.

  “Should I get my own blanket?” He lifted up the covers to remove himself.

  “No…” Her objection sounded weak even to her own ears, and he lifted the covers higher. “No!” she said a bit more resolutely, and he dropped the covers and settled in beside her.

  Her anxiety eased the instant he put his arms around her. Outside, the storm raged on, but inside the cabin it suddenly didn’t seem so frightening.

  For a long time, there was silence between them. Sophie lay still in his arms, listening to the rumble of thunder and the waves slapping at wood. It wasn’t long before her stomach felt better. He was a solid barrier and kept her steady.

  “When I was a kid,” he began, and seemed to understand that his voice would soothe her, “I used to climb out of my window and ride out the storm in the tree outside my bedroom.”

  Sophie’s heartbeat began to slow.

  She imagined him straddling a branch, while the tree swayed under the onslaught of wind... like a bucking horse... and was amused by the image.

  “That wasn’t the safest place to be!” she scolded him, but there was a smile in her tone. “Although I’m certain your mother would have told you so.”

  He held her a little tighter and laid his head down beside her. Sophie could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. It sent a shiver through her.

  “My mother died when I was four,” he revealed. “It was just me and my da.”

  “Oh no!” Sophie exclaimed. “I’m sorry!”

  “Don’t be,” he reassured her, and Sophie heard no self-pity in his tone. “I never really knew her, and my father was the best da a kid could want.”

  Sophie smiled. “Especially since he let you ride out storms in a tree?”

  He chuckled low at her ear. “No, even better. Because he sometimes rode out the storm in the tree with me.”

  “Oh my!” she exclaimed, and couldn’t imagine her own father or mother sitting out on the limb of a tree in the middle of some raging storm. She laughed and tried to imagine Harlan out on a tree limb, even as a lad, and couldn’t picture it. He was far too proper.

  For that matter, she tried to picture him out in some field, digging up fossils ... and ruining his manicure. She couldn’t picture that either and frowned.

  Unlike Harlan, she could easily picture Jack there, and she wondered what it was that Harlan did in the Yucatan... besides raise women’s skirts.

  She couldn’t begin to fathom.

  She was still trying to figure it out when Jack whispered against her ear. “I really love the smell of your hair, Sophia.”

  She thought she misheard him. “Wh-what?” she asked, trying to see him through the darkness.

  “I love the smell of your hair,” he murmured, and seemed to be nuzzling it softly.

  A quiver sped through her at the realization, and her heart began to beat a little faster. She couldn’t speak, and he mistook her silence.

  “Forgive me,” he begged her, but Sophie wasn’t the least offended by his compliment ... or by his actions.

  She tried to speak past the knot that formed in her throat, to reassure him that he hadn’t offended her at all, but she couldn’t form a coherent sound.

  No man had ever titillated her so with mere words.

  No man had ever made her yearn for things she shouldn’t even think about.

  Never with Harlan had her thoughts turned physical in nature... never had her body responded so wantonly to his nearness.

  Her mouth tingled at the memory of her stolen kiss, and she longed to savor just one more from his soft, full mouth. Only she wasn’t about to make the first move this time.

  She wanted so much for him to want her.

  She wanted him to look at her not with disgust or disappointment, but as he had that first day on the docks, she realized... before all the unpleasantness had come between them.

  “Sophia,” he whispered.

  His voice seemed rife with as much confusion as Sophie was feeling ... confusion about everything ... save one thing ...

  She closed her eyes, feeling heat flow through her ... so that she no longer shivered at all.

  “Yes?” she replied, breathless now.

  Silence met her reply.

  The scent of him drew her nearer, and her breath became more labored as she tempted him in the darkness, tilting her head back for his kiss, if only he would take it.

  She willed him to...

  Jack wanted to kiss her.

  The scent of her skin intoxicated him.

  The air around them grew charged with far more than just the electricity from the storm, and Jack held her closer against his better judgment. He was wearing only his pants and they were already becoming too snug.

  Was she feeling it as well? The electric current in the air? It sent fire racing across his skin.

  He was drawn to her in a way he hadn’t ever felt toward a woman. His skin burned, craving her touch. The points of his nipples were on fire for the soothing touch of her moist tongue.

  What would it feel like to be inside her? To have her legs wrapped around his waist and her tongue dancing on his nipples?

  She had no idea how close he was to forgetting she was a lady ... and remembering he was no gentleman. He was a pretender at best... and her kind never let him forget it.

  Never in his life had he felt so uncertain around a woman... or so attracted... or so wary... or so confused.

  And he’d never considered the word no before now... not in this way... never needed to. He had always been willing to accept the outcome, whatever it might be. For the first time ever, he dreaded hearing it.

  Sophie was from a world he could never truly be part of—not that he hadn’t tried. And failed. He had the money and the brains. He just hadn’t the name. And that in a nutshell was why he’d had to purchase this deuced ship himself, and fund his own research.

  He drew back, looking down on her, telling himself that he’d be a fool to get mixed up in something that was set against him from the start.

  She was off limits, and it didn’t take an academic genius to figure that one out.

  Except that he had never before let odds stand in his way.

  Sophie waited with bated breath for him to speak again, but he didn’t.

  She wanted nothing more than to forget all that had passed between them. She wanted to start over. Daring to press herself closer, she closed her eyes, hoping he would respond.

  Her body tingled where it met his skin, and she ached to reach out and explore... to smooth her fingers over the muscles of his bare chest.

  “Sophia,” he began, his voice hoarse and low. “May I... kiss you?”

  Her heart hammered at the question.

  She swallowed and whispered back, sounding more hesitant than she wished to, “I would like that.”

  She felt him lean closer, though he didn’t close the space between them. She longed for the feel of his mouth on hers.

  “Are you sure?” he asked again, giv
ing her one last chance to deny him.

  Sophie was quite certain.

  Couldn’t he tell how much she wanted to kiss him by the sound of her heartbeat? It was so loud in her ears that her body thrummed to its rhythm. She nodded and, for answer, lifted her hands from under the blankets, finding his face in the darkness. She touched it tentatively and heard his soft gasp.

  His hand covered hers just an instant before their lips met.

  The shock of it sent Sophie reeling... or maybe it was the boat listing once more. She couldn’t really tell. He held her close, kissing her passionately, but with restraint... and Sophie knew instinctively he was holding back.

  She didn’t want him to.

  He kissed her like a gentleman, not because he was one, she sensed... but because he chose to be one, and that knowledge in itself left her breathless and excited in a way she had never experienced before.

  His kiss was nothing like the chaste pecks on the lips Harlan had given her.

  He cradled her face in his hands, pleading with her. “Open for me, Sophia.”

  For an instant, Sophie didn’t understand what it was he was asking. She was delirious. She closed her eyes and saw tiny points of light bursting before her lids.

  Capturing her hands once again, he drew them behind her head and shifted so that he was atop her, pinning her beneath his weight.

  There was no escape.

  The very thought of it made her body ache in places she had never even known existed.

  “Give me your tongue,” he whispered against her ear. “Let me taste you, Sophia.”

  Sophie shuddered in anticipation of his request. She parted her lips as he wished, and the first foray of his tongue sent her heart fluttering out of her breast. Like a wanton, she clung to him. In response, he deepened the kiss. He held her hands behind her head and moved atop her with such delicious slowness that her body instinctively sought him. She arched into him, trying to free her hands, to hold him, but he held them fast, refusing to free her.

  “Just as I remembered,” he murmured, and Sophie had no notion what he was talking about, only that it gave her a heady rush to hear him say so.

  “Kiss me back,” she heard him beg her, and Sophie tried to obey. She had never kissed a man with openmouthed abandon before. Tentatively, she offered him her tongue, and nearly fainted where she lay when he took it to suckle gently within his mouth.

  She whimpered softly beneath him, writhing in pleasure, urging him deeper into her mouth.

  She wanted more ... wanted him to show her more ...

  Jack groaned with satisfaction over the taste of her. Brief as their first kiss had been, he’d remembered exactly. The taste of her had taunted him since, and like a man starved for sustenance, he craved her.

  His hands needed to roam her body, to touch her, feel her... make love to her, but he restrained them, knowing she hadn’t given him leave to explore.

  But he wanted to—God, he wanted to!

  He held her hands behind her head, because if she touched him... if she so much as urged him to... unwittingly even... he would give it to her gladly.

  He broke free of the kiss, before he could be tempted further... before his hands could slide down over her beautiful body to lift the hem of her flimsy gown. If he did that... if he dared to... she would need far better armor than what she was wearing.

  He stared down at her, very aware of his arousal nestled between them. His body ached. Did she have any idea what he wanted from her?

  More than anything, he wanted to be inside her.

  She was so beautiful.

  Though he couldn’t see her, he imagined her lying beneath him, her rich auburn hair spread like molten copper about her perfect face. And those eyes ... golden like honey, and sprinkled with emerald dust. He cursed the darkness in that instant that he couldn’t see them ... that he couldn’t read her expression.

  Did she regret it already?

  He surely didn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  Wouldn’t.

  She was silent, and Jack told her, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that, Sophia?”

  She sounded breathless, the same as he did. “How long?” she asked him, and he had to smile at her question.

  As a matter of fact, he didn’t remember a moment when he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, and yet he couldn’t honestly give her the exact instant he’d first realized.

  “Since you first kissed me,” he told her, and knew it was a lie.

  He’d wanted her before then.

  “Oh!” she replied. He wished he could see the color in her cheeks. And then she added, sounding as though she were holding back an embarrassed giggle, “I don’t suppose I should apologize, then?”

  Jack grinned down at her. “Not on your life,” he assured her, and chuckled.

  There was silence between them then, and after a moment she said, “I’m very sorry about your papers, Jack.”

  Jack didn’t want to think about that just now, didn’t want to remember who she was. “It’s all right. I managed to save most of them anyway.”

  “Still... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  He wanted to believe she had nothing to do with Penn, other than the obvious. He wanted to believe her when she’d said she missed her fiancé and wanted only to see him... and yet a part of him recoiled at the very possibility... because he wanted her for himself.

  “You don’t really believe I would steal from you, do you?” She sounded hurt by the prospect.

  Reality smacked him in the face.

  She was some other man’s fiancée... engaged to be married to someone other than him.

  On top of that, he wasn’t entirely certain he could trust her. His answer was honest when he gave it. “No.”

  He couldn’t believe she would kiss him like that if she could so easily turn around and stab him in the back. And still... she wasn’t being completely honest with him... because no woman in love with someone else could kiss another man like that.

  At least he hoped to hell it was true.

  Chapter 19

  “She’s not what you think,’ Kell said, coming up behind him.

  Jack glanced up from his work, annoyed that the only thing Kell ever seemed to have to talk to him about was Sophie. “No?” he asked, though he was beginning to sense it as much himself.

  “No,” Kell answered, and came to sit on the desk. The portrait of Harlan Penn caught his attention and he lifted it up, arching a brow as he inspected it.

  Jack tried hard not to notice the picture, as much as it irked him. In fact, he’d like to send it flying across the room, and would have happily let his desk burn down just to get rid of it. But it belonged to Sophie and so he just ignored it.

  “You know something I don’t?” he asked Kell, sensing it was so. Kell never kept anything from him, but somehow Jack felt this time he was.

  Kell’s reply only provoked him more. “Maybe.”

  Jack studied his friend. “You like her, don’t you?”

  Kell flipped the picture down against his thigh and grinned at him. “Everyone likes her, Jack.”

  Jack knew it was true.

  “Except you, ye rotten bastard!”

  “I like her just fine,” Jack countered, and it was a hell of an understatement. He liked her more than just fine... he liked her too damned much.

  “Do you?” Kell pried.

  Jack sat back in his chair, studying the smug expression on Kell’s face.

  “What is it you’re trying to tell me, Kell?”

  Kell stood again, took another look at the picture, and said, “If you’re too blind to see the truth then you don’t deserve to know.” And then he set the picture down facing Jack and walked away.

  Jack watched him go with narrowed eyes, thinking they had known each other far too long. He sighed deeply and his gaze returned to the portrait of Penn.

  His brows drew together as he focused on the picture, and he reached out to grasp it in his hand.r />
  “I’ll be damned,” he said, and chuckled.

  The artwork wasn’t his.

  Penn sported two horns on his head and a third on his chin, and his eyes were filled with dollar symbols. The look suited him. Jack shook his head and laughed outright. He glanced at the door and thought about calling Kell back to hound him for whatever information he’d gotten out of her, but he knew Kell well enough to know he wouldn’t give it—not if he’d made up his mind not to, and it seemed he had.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said again, and set the picture down facing him, so that he could enjoy it while he worked. His mood, as he sat again, was much lightened.

  Suddenly he heard the shouts, and he nearly knocked the desk over in his haste to discover the cause of the commotion.

  “I’m perfectly all right,” Sophie assured Randall who was shouting at her to come down, trying to calm him before he managed to rouse Jack. It wasn’t as though it were windy and the seas turbulent. The ocean and sky were both at peace after last night’s storm, and Sophie didn’t see the first reason why she couldn’t manage a simple repair. If a man could do it, she could do it. That much was certain.

  “Miss Vanderwahl,” Randall shouted up at her, “please come down from there!”

  Sophie ignored him, climbing higher up the makeshift ladder. Apparently, through the night, the winds had further rent a hole she had inadvertently put in the sails—enough that it was visible from the deck below and she didn’t want the rip to worsen. She would certainly take precautions, but she would not be deterred.

  She wanted to do something nice for Jack.

  They had awakened that morning arm in arm on the floor. He’d held her through the night while the storm had raged, and she’d pretended to sleep on while he’d risen with the bright morning sun, taking care to tuck her in before leaving. He’d brushed the hair from her face... so tenderly that it had made her heart twist with longing.

  “Miss Vanderwahl,” Randall protested, and then was joined by Kell, who thankfully remained quiet while staring up at her as though he thought her mad.