She had been married, and plenty of widows enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh without censure.
Why shouldn’t I?
And at the centre of it all… Lucas.
She had him here, to herself, for these brief, stolen snippets of time.
Why shouldn’t I enjoy it? Behave how I want, get what I want?
Better yet, perhaps there would be time enough for him to fall in love with her again. After all, she would know nobody but Lucas when they docked, and he wasn’t the sort of man to leave her high and dry. He would take care of her and now, after this, perhaps even love her.
All of these things rushed through Anna’s head as Lucas held her. But the second he took control of the kiss, all coherent thoughts flew out the window.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and Anna gasped at the sensation flooding her at the act.
Lucas took advantage of the action to plunge his tongue into her mouth, dancing with her own.
Anna felt as though her body were going up in flames.
Ye gods! If he can do this to me with just his tongue…
Lucas moved to the bunk and set her down gently, as though she were made of the finest porcelain.
Without a word, he straightened and removed his coat before flinging it somewhere behind him.
Anna’s heart was hammering in her chest as Lucas began lifting the linen shirt from his body. She caught sight of skin, tanned, no doubt, from time spent in the West Indies building his shipping company… his flat stomach that looked as rock hard as the rest of him felt… his chest as he lifted the shirt over his head…
Anna’s mouth dried, and her heartbeat accelerated further still.
She couldn’t quite believe this was happening, couldn’t believe how much she wanted this to happen.
Lucas came and lay down beside her, stretching himself along the length of her.
Leaning on one elbow, he loomed over her, his free hand stroking her in ever-widening, maddening circles.
“You’re sure?” he asked again, his voice rough and coarse.
In answer, Anna reached up and once more pressed her lips to his.
In just moments, she would—
“Captain.”
Anna nearly cried out in dismay as a knock sounded on the door, and Sanderson’s voice called out to Lucas.
Judging from the string of oaths, Lucas wasn’t too happy about the interruption either.
“Go away, Sanderson,” he called, his eyes boring into hers, not allowing her ardour to cool in the face of the interruption.
“But, Captain, you’re needed on deck. The weather is turning, and you wanted to be informed if—”
“Sanderson, if you value your life, you will go away right now and stay away. And tell everyone else to do the same.”
There was a brief pause before the other man spoke again.
“O-of course, Captain,” Sanderson stuttered, and Anna’s cheeks scalded with embarrassment.
It would be as plain as day to everyone on board this ship just what was going on in here.
Sanderson’s footsteps padded away from the door and faded into silence.
Anna was starting to think that perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea she’d ever had, but suddenly Lucas smiled at her, and that smile was so devilish, so full of wicked promise that all inhibitions were swept away in a tide of visceral need.
“Now, where was I?” Lucas whispered.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE DAY WAS cool, bright, and beautiful.
Lucas breathed deep of the sea air and tried to let its usual calming influence wash over him.
But today it was not to be so.
Something had shifted between Anna and him last night.
Their night together had been as explosive and earth-shattering as he’d suspected it would be. Anna had blossomed under his touch.
If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she was a virgin, learning about the joy they could experience for the first time.
But then, he thought, his fists clenching, knowing that bastard Peter Grant as he did, the man had probably never satisfied his beautiful wife once in his life.
After they’d made love until they were both exhausted, Lucas had gone to fetch provisions to feed her, since she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime that day.
When he returned, he’d seen that she’d tidied up the mess he had made with the damned tray.
She’d obviously crawled back into bed afterwards, for there she lay, in a deep sleep.
Lucas had stood and watched her sleep, watched the rise and fall of her chest… the tousled hair… the thoroughly kissed lips…
She’d looked like a woman well-satisfied, and his chest swelled with masculine pride. He had put that smile on her face.
Though he’d wanted her to eat, he’d been loath to wake her. Especially since there had been a chance she’d wake with regrets. And that he hadn’t wanted.
So he had let her sleep, had lain beside her into the wee, small hours of the night, hating himself for what he planned to do to her.
When the sun began to peek over the horizon, Lucas had quickly dressed and crept from the room.
He had neglected his duties last night.
And, frankly, he’d needed to get away from her.
He didn’t feel at all like he thought he would.
In fact, he felt like a complete heel.
Would I really use her so ill? Leave her abandoned and alone in a strange place?
Did she really deserve that?
He had thought she did. But the woman he’d come to know on this ship was vastly different to the woman he’d presumed her to be.
So, which one is she?
Lucas had to admit that he was inclined to believe that as much as she had treated him appallingly many years ago, she wasn’t necessarily that same girl now, all these years later.
“Captain.”
Lucas turned at the sound of Bryant’s voice and realised that the man had asked him a question while he’d been obsessing about his beautiful fake bride.
“Yes. Apologies, Bryant. I was distracted.”
“Well, she’s quite the distraction, Captain,” the other man said with a grin.
“Am I that obvious?” he asked with a wry grin of his own.
“There isn’t a man alive could blame you, Captain,” Bryant said immediately.
“Be that as it may,” Lucas said, forcing thoughts of Anna and how she’d felt in his arms from his mind, “there is much to be done. I wanted to discuss Lloyd’s suspicions with you and make a plan for when we dock.”
Lucas hadn’t forgotten his mission for the Crown, and Bryant had long since been a partner of sorts in his various Home Office activities.
He would be kept busy today, no mistake. And, truth be told, he needed to keep his distance from Anna to try to sort through his feelings, which had become confused all over again.
His immediate thought was to hope that Anna would be all right if she didn’t have his company.
His next thought was that he needed to stop bloody thinking about Anna!
ANNA SNATCHED UP her shawl and made her way to the top deck, a smile on her face. She had thought that she would feel embarrassed to see Lucas again but now she found that she couldn’t wait.
When Frank had told her to go for a morning stroll and see if she could wipe the silly grin from her face, Anna had rushed to take him up on the offer. Giddy as she was, she even reached up to give the old man a peck on the cheek.
“Be off with you now,” he shooed her, his tone gruff, but a wide grin adorned his face, nonetheless.
Now, Anna was making her way up the wooden steps, hoping that Lucas wouldn’t be too busy to take a quick walk with her. Perhaps she could even steal a kiss.
Anna would ordinarily be shocked at her own thoughts, but since she had given herself permission to act on her desires for this brief time they were on board the ship, she had no qualms in enjoying every moment she possib
ly could.
Anna was about to emerge on the deck, when a shadow crossed overhead, and she looked up to see that her way was blocked by one of the crewmen.
“Excuse me,” she said firmly.
She didn’t remember being introduced to this particular man. He was not handsome, but striking, with jet-black hair and eyes nearly as dark. She would have remembered that — and the hawk-like nose.
Mostly, she would have remembered this sudden feeling of unease that she had.
“‘Tis a beautiful day, Miss Spencer,” the man answered with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and Anna felt unaccountably even more nervous than before.
“Indeed?” she asked, using her best ton voice, “I wouldn’t know, since my way is blocked.”
The sailor, to her horror, took a further step down so he was mere inches from her.
But Anna refused to back away from him.
The man’s eyes raked over her in the most insolent fashion, and Anna’s fear disappeared as a wave of indignation took over. “Perhaps it is beyond your level of intelligence to realise this, but you have to move to let me pass.” She sniffed.
If Lucas heard her now, he’d once again believe all those horrid things about her being a snob.
But if that’s what it takes to get this blasted man out of my way, then that’s what I will do.
She obviously hit her mark, for the man scowled in displeasure.
He stepped closer still, and now Anna had no choice but to back away.
“You—”
“Miss Spencer, is there a problem?”
Anna turned round and almost threw her arms around Sanderson in relief.
The man was frowning at the crass sailor, his face a picture of displeasure.
“No problem,” the sailor smiled. “I was just moving out of the lady’s way.”
He stepped round Anna and Sanderson and was about to move off when Sanderson halted him with a hand on his arm.
“What bothers the lady bothers the captain, Doyle. So be careful.”
The other man merely sneered at Sanderson before pulling his arm free and stomping off without another word.
“Thank you, Sanderson.” Anna breathed in relief.
“At your service,” the man replied with a bow. “The captain is in his office and expects to be there quite some time, Miss Spencer. But I will make sure he hears of this incident.”
“Oh,” Anna responded, feeling deflated. After that encounter, she didn’t much relish being alone. “I really don’t want to cause any fuss.”
“The captain will want to know about this, Miss Spencer.” Sanderson paused, watching Anna closely. “But, I have some spare time if you would like to take a stroll,” Sanderson continued.
Anna smiled widely, grateful for the man’s attentiveness. “I would love that,” she said. She preceded him up the stairs and into the cool, fresh air.
“Will the captain be busy all day, do you think, Sanderson?” she asked, feeling a little lost without Lucas.
“I believe so, Miss Spencer.”
Anna knew her face fell at the news.
“But, if you would rather not be alone when you’ve finished your kitchen duties, I am sure there are plenty of people on board who would delight in your company,” Sanderson continued with a smile. “Just, perhaps not Doyle, hmm?”
Anna laughed softly.
“You are very intuitive, Sanderson,” she quipped, taking his proffered arm and setting off at a slow pace.
“Four sisters and a woman I’m mightily fond of, Miss Spencer,” he answered easily. “I should be an expert in women, if such a thing is possible.”
“A woman you’re fond of?” she prodded gently with a smile.
To her astonishment, the young man blushed.
“I mean to ask her to marry me,” Sanderson confided.
“Well then,” Anna responded jovially, “you must tell me all about her.”
And he did.
Anna was very happy for Sanderson, who would sail back to London once the captain was settled and would ask a Mary Samson to marry him.
And if she felt a little envious of Sanderson and Mary’s bright future together, well, nobody needed to know about that but her.
Lucas made no appearance for the rest of the day, and when it came time for the evening meal, Anna felt rather maudlin at the idea of spending the night alone, locked away in Lucas’ cabin.
So, when Sanderson came to her with a tray, she insisted on accompanying him back to dine with some of the crew. She felt completely safe with Sanderson and all the men on board, bar one. So there was no reason for her to remain alone.
Much as Sanderson protested, minutes later, she found herself seated amongst the men, who tried to mind their manners and their language with little-to-no success.
Anna found that she thoroughly enjoyed their banter and was soon joining in to the best of her ability.
So when a sailor offered her a “wee drop of grog,” she felt it would be rude to refuse.
After all, what harm in one mere drop?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT WAS LATE, and Lucas was tired.
Spending the entire day and evening avoiding Anna did him no good, for she was still at the forefront of his thoughts.
And given what Sanderson had told him about that Doyle character and his treatment of Anna, his mood was far from happy. In fact, he felt close to murderous.
Now, he figured there was no point in fighting his attraction to her anymore.
This was no longer about seducing and leaving her.
If he could allow himself to think she’d changed, then perhaps, just perhaps, they had a chance at a real future together.
With his heart lighter than it had been all day, Lucas entered the cabin. He stopped abruptly when he saw that it was empty.
Where is she? How is it that I managed to keep her safe all this time and now, mere days before we are due to dock, she’s gone wandering?
He thought of what Sanderson had said about her encounter with Doyle but immediately dismissed the growing panic. She was a grown woman, an independent person, and she was entitled to go where she pleased. She couldn’t come to that much harm on one ship.
Except, Lucas knew men. He was fond of his crew, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think he knew them all well, knew their base characters. And they’d been on this ship for weeks now.
What if she is wandering around alone and comes across someone who has too much drink in him?
Lucas built himself into a rage before he’d even left his cabin again, ready to kill the faceless man who could possibly be hurting her right now.
But might not be.
It wasn’t his most logical thought, but it was powerful enough to propel him out the door as though the hounds of hell were after him.
As he stomped around the ship, the sound of raucous laughter reached his ears, and he headed to where it sounded like some of his crew were having quite the party.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes.
The room was filled with music, crude singing, stomping feet, and at a guess, more gin than people.
His crew was having a grand old time.
And there, in the midst of them, was Anna. Dancing on a table.
Lucas watched in amazement, not knowing whether to laugh or yell at her.
Someone had been teaching her some sort of set dance, and she whirled around with sailor after sailor, laughing and waving her skirts.
Worse, when a particularly crude ditty started up, she joined in. At the top of her lungs.
Lucas gazed around the room, his mood lightening at the harmless fun, until he came across that new sailor. Doyle,the man who’d harassed Anna.
The man sat in the corner, by himself, and the look in his eyes as he stared at Anna was enough to have Lucas clenching his fists to stop from reaching for his pistol.
And that was enough of an example of how a man’s mood could turn, to have Lucas w
anting to end this now and get her back under his protection.
He had sent Bryant to have a discussion with the man, not trusting himself to do it.
Bryant had reported back that Doyle had said all the right things, had seemed contrite and had been adamant that it had all been a misunderstanding.
Bryant seemed well satisfied with the explanation.
Lucas was not.
But he was honest enough to admit that his view was biased given feelings for Anna.
He stepped farther into the room, and the crewmen closest to the door turned and spotted him, their laughter and singing immediately dying away.
No doubt his face looked thunderous, reflecting how he felt.
One by one, the crew seemed to get the message that he was there, for the singing grew more and more silent, until finally, the only voice left was Anna’s, bellowing to the rooftops, oblivious to the fact that she’d suddenly become a soloist.
Lucas walked toward her, and the men parted as he went.
By the time he reached her, she’d realised everyone else was quiet, and now she peered down at him, a wide grin splitting her face.
She looked flushed and happy and so damned beautiful she took his breath away.
“Lucas,” she cried, and the joy in her voice at seeing him warmed his heart more than it probably should.
He was in trouble, he knew.
Very real trouble.
“Anna,” he responded, suddenly fighting a grin.
Now he knew she was safe — and he was there to make sure it remained that way — he found the situation rather hilarious.
And if he wasn’t mistaken, she would have quite a headache in the morning.
“I think you’ve had enough,” he said gently.
Her reaction, however, was not what he expected.
Instead of agreeing and allowing him to help her down from the table, she planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.
A few nervous chuckles and some shifting from the crew told Lucas that they recognised this for what it was, too.
A warning sign.
“I think,” she responded loudly, “that I will decide when I’ve had enough.”
His crew ooohed like they were at a damn theatrical performance.
The Captain's Revenge Page 14