The Pirate's Jewel

by Cheryl Howe

  Nolan lay his curled fist against his forehead. In keeping her father in his place, Nolan could lose Jewel permanently. She would never understand why her father could not share in the vast fortune. It was apparent she was beginning to see Bellamy’s true nature, but her generous heart would never wish the man or anyone to be treated unfairly. The guilt of leaving Bellamy alone on the island would kill her. And that’s exactly what Nolan intended. Bellamy could find his own way off. He had before. Let his whole plan explode in his face.

  The bastard had succeeded, though. Bellamy’s treachery would steal a part of Nolan that had become more precious to him than the bloody treasure. He didn’t even want the damn thing. Look what it had done for his grandfather—or worse, his father, who had lived his life in pious repentance, hoping to erase the murderous taint from the family name.

  Nolan’s father had seen Kent’s lust for adventure and associated it with his own son, squashed it unmercifully, unfairly comparing a mischievous boy with the most infamous pirate in the Caribbean. Worse, his grandfather had been unfairly punished. Nolan realized now that what his father had feared, had taught him to hate in himself—a hunger for life and all it offered—didn’t have to be evil or all-consuming. Tempered with a desire to do right by the world, such passions would help build a nation and even make a good and loving husband. He would be so, if Jewel would give him the chance.

  Unfortunately, he still had to keep his focus on the treasure. Nolan wanted the riches for the revolution, and he would use every penny of it on ships and weapons. He would probably have his letter of marque by the time he returned to the colonies—but by then it could be too late for him and Jewel.

  He truly had believed his marriage legal under the law and God. His word was as good as any document or stamp. He prided himself on that. He had vowed to take Jewel for his wife, to cherish her and protect her. That was enough for him. Yet the look on Jewel’s face when Bellamy pointed out the flaw in his reasoning told him it wasn’t enough for her. Bellamy was right, of course, and that knowledge gave Nolan one more reason for murder.

  He turned onto his side and punched his pillow. A thin stream of light shone beneath his door. He froze. When no sound accompanied the intruder, Nolan carefully reached for the pistol he had already loaded. His sword was also close enough to grab in a hurry. With Bellamy nearby, Nolan had prepared for anything.

  The intruder tried the door’s handle. It didn’t turn. Nolan had locked it, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. Sneak attacks were Bellamy’s specialty. Nolan moved off the bed in silence.

  A soft rap sounded. Definitely not aggressive. The knock was almost hesitant. “Nolan?”

  He leaped for the door, turned the key and yanked it open before she changed her mind. “Jewel, what are you doing here?”

  Her eyes widened. “I had to see you.” She dropped her gaze, and a grin crept across her face. “I guess I got my wish and then some.”

  He pulled her into the room and locked the door. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but he wouldn’t put it past her father to trick her into doing something she hadn’t intended. “Does Bellamy know you’re here?” Not waiting for her answer, he turned to pull on his breeches. He didn’t want to have to face Bellamy stark naked if he didn’t have to.

  “Wait! Don’t.”

  Nolan glanced at her over his shoulder. His muscles tensed at the urgency in her voice. A blush spread across the bridge of her nose and down her neck.

  She took a deep breath, the kind needed for courage, and stepped toward him. “I want to see you. All of you. And, no, my father doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Nolan let his breeches fall to the floor. He straightened, turning to face her, letting her gaze at him in the light of the lantern she had carried into the room. Her words altered his mood instantly. Forget Bellamy. Nolan’s heart thumped in his chest, and there was only one thing on his mind. He spread his hands slightly. “Take your fill.”

  She found a hook on which to hang her lantern, and then moved near enough to put her palms on his chest but left enough distance so she could gaze at his body. Nolan’s blood quickened. For every second that passed, there was more of him to see.

  “I missed you.” She trailed her hands over his arms.

  Nolan wanted her with an urgency that had nothing to do with logic, but some last stronghold of reason warred with him. Her loyalty could no longer be divided. She had to choose him. He forced himself to keep his head. “Why did you stay on the island?”

  She dropped her hands to her sides. “Oh, I had a choice, did I? You and my father argue over me like I’m not even there. It sounded like you two agreed I would stay on the beach.”

  Nolan didn’t move. She was fully dressed and angry. He was naked with an erection. Some men might decide it was time to put on some clothes, save a little face. Nolan hoped if he didn’t move, she would start touching him again. “But you’re here now. Aren’t you?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her chin. “I didn’t like the way you two decided my fate. After my father fell asleep, I woke Parker and had him row me out to the ship.”

  Nolan smiled. He didn’t want to argue with her after all. That was the last thing he wanted. His body was definitely winning the battle over reason. “Good thing I left some men to guard you.”

  Her tight features relaxed. “I thought they were guarding the treasure.”

  “You mean more to me than that treasure.”

  “Is that true?” The moist sheen that brightened the hopeful expression in her eyes tugged at his heart. That she doubted how much he cared for her, loved her, squeezed his throat until he feared his own eyes might water.

  He glanced down, more comfortable with another form of his affection for her. “I think that’s obvious.”

  He didn’t reach for her. She had to come to him. The way she looked up at him with her head tilted, lips parted, clearly invited his attention, but he forced his arms to remain by his sides.

  Her gaze slid down him, stopping at his arousal. Nolan could feel the rush of his own blood expanding his erection with a mindless urgency that stomped out all other thoughts. He closed his eyes.

  When she pressed her hands on his chest, he willed himself not to move. His patience was paying off. The tension between them today had reminded him of their wedding night, and he had no intention of repeating his previous mistakes. This was her seduction, though they both knew she’d had him the moment she entered the cabin. Still, he’d let her set the pace.

  She let her palms graze the contours of his abdomen before moving lower. “Are we truly not married?”

  Once her destination became clear, Nolan found it harder to follow the drift of her conversation. Every muscle tensed in anticipation of the slide of her hands. She brushed her thumbs across the hollow near his hips, and Nolan bit back a moan. He swallowed, not sure if he had a voice to speak. “To me we are. I’ll marry you again if you want.”

  She somehow avoided the very demanding part of him that craved her touch so much he pulsated, and smoothed her hands over his thighs. “That means we’re not married. I’m not sure the first time wasn’t a mistake.”

  He opened his eyes. Her answer crept rudely into his daze of pleasurable sensation. What he saw almost made him forget why he’d opened his eyes in the first place. She had dropped to her knees. Her palms had slipped to the back of his thighs, continuing on their downward exploration. Her mouth hovered intoxicatingly close to paradise.

  “Why…mistake?” he asked.

  She glanced up at him and grinned. Her confident expression told him she knew what she was doing to him. “I want you to love me more than you hate my father.”

  Nolan exhaled loudly, which sounded a little like an anguished gasp. He should just tell her what she wanted to hear. Unfortunately, he didn’t behave that way, not even under this kind of torment. His hatred of Bellamy was a living thing. It had been growing for years. Just thinking of it made lust’s st
rangling grip loosen. “Let me love you. I’ll show you.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She gently guided his hips forward. Using only the tip of her tongue, she touched him.

  This time he did gasp. Strong desire streaked from his cock, gripping him even tighter than before. His breath came in short gulps. There was no point in rational thought. His center became the feel of her warm wet tongue. “Marry me. I’ll make you happy.”

  “Killing my father won’t make me happy.” She took him in her mouth. Nolan had the brief thought that someone had told her to do this to him, but who that might be was not something he wanted to think about at the moment.

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His knees felt weak, but he didn’t want her to stop. Not for anything. He forced himself to hold still, not to thrust. He didn’t want to scare her. “I won’t,” he said, not sure if his breathless words were intelligible.

  She gripped him at the base with a firm hand while her mouth and tongue applied maddening attention to the head of his cock. Apparently experimenting, she alternated between sucking and then licking the length of him, drawing a wet line on the sensitive underside. Oh, someone had instructed her, Nolan thought briefly, and it had better just have been verbally.

  “Not enough, Nolan.”

  “No.” He agreed, or moaned, which was about all he could do at the moment. Not enough. Not nearly enough. He buried his fingers in her hair. The urge to thrust compelled him beyond control, so he slightly rubbed his aching cock against her soft cheek and into her hair. The sensation gripped him like a fist and he did it only one more time, pulling away with the realization he could find release this way in the breadth of a heartbeat.

  She kissed his hipbone, apparently aware of how close to the brink he was, backing off the torment. And just when he thought he could form a semi-rational thought, she blew on his burning skin, still wet from her thorough attentions. The new sensation took him to another level of insanity. “No more fighting. Make peace with my father so we can stay married.”

  The need to have her mouth on him again blurred the edges of his vision. His eyes were hard to keep open, except when they lazily focused on her mouth so close to his engorged sex. He had to say or do something to encourage her to do that to him again, just for a minute, just one more time. He tugged her hair gently to guide her back. She didn’t budge. He stopped before using any force. “No more fighting…with Bellamy. Yes?”

  With exaggerated slowness, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection and guided him into her mouth. Nolan let his head fall back. He glanced down, watching her sweet lips work to please him. A rush of lust so strong poured over him he had to fight to control it. He hissed and jerked away.

  She looked up at him. “Did I hurt you?”

  He leaned down and pulled her up. “More than you know.”

  He stepped back, landing on the bed with her on top of him. Getting inside her immediately was his only thought. He arranged her legs so she straddled him. Even before he slipped his hands under her dress, he knew she wore nothing under it.

  He moved his hands up her thighs, caressing her bottom. His tide of urgency subsided enough to be manageable until she rocked against his hard flesh, still slick from her mouth. She caught on fast. Too fast. He was wet enough to ease their coupling, but he wanted her to be closer to his level of arousal. Once he entered her, he wouldn’t last long.

  He sat up, forcing her onto her back. He pushed her skirts around her waist. Without any coy warning, he nudged her legs apart and licked her with the flat of his tongue.

  She gasped when his lips touched her in an openmouthed kiss. She was already wet and tasted like pure sex. He tightened his grip on her thighs, pulling her closer. The soft sound of pleasure that slipped from her throat sent an erotic shiver across the tight skin of his cock.

  He gripped her buttocks in his palms, raising her hips, pinning her as he focused his assault on the center of her passion. She cried out loud enough for the crew to hear, but he didn’t care.

  With her feet braced on the bed, she angled her hips, straining to get closer to him. He slipped a finger inside her, matching the rhythm of her movements. She contracted around him, and he jerked in response. She teetered on the brink of release, and he needed to be deep inside her when she shattered.

  He covered her, but she pushed on his shoulders, stopping him. His mind struggled for an explanation. His braced arms supported his weight, so he knew he wasn’t crushing her.

  She stared at him under heavy eyelids. “I want it to be like before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She lowered her gaze. It amazed him that she could still be shy after what she had done to him with her mouth. “I want to be on top.”

  He smiled. “Please, be my guest.”

  He moved off her so she could sit up. Watching her unlace her dress added a drugging dimension to his raging lust. He wanted to help her, but his hands shook. If he wanted to let her have her way, he had to use all his will to hold back. He sat on his heels, his erection burning against his stomach.

  She slipped out of her gown and smiled at him. It was a sly smirk that terrified and excited. “Lie back.”

  He did as she commanded. When she crawled on top, he immediately reached to position her. She grabbed his wrists and pushed them to his sides. “Don’t touch me until I say. Don’t even move.”

  Nolan swallowed hard, hoping he could comply. She guided him into her slowly, not taking him all the way. He could barely tame the urge to thrust. She backed off way too soon. He curled his hands in the bedclothes to keep from pulling her down.

  She braced her hands on his chest, her head back, her long hair brushing his thighs, her eyelids heavy with desire. God, but she was enjoying this. Her movements were like a hypnotizing dance, and the beat of the music was his own heart. He closed his eyes, unable to watch. She moved up and down, taking no more than half of him, circling her hips, pleasuring herself and torturing him. He wanted to climax. Needed to.

  “Jewel. Please,” he managed between wracking grips of pleasure that made it hard to breathe.

  “All right. You can touch me.” She guided his hands to her breasts. “Here,” she purred. He watched her through half-closed eyes. He massaged her breasts, gently pinching her nipples.

  She undulated her hips, and the movement seemed to please her, but for him it was just a new form of torture because she still hadn’t taken him all the way. He increased the pressure on her engorged nipples and arched his hips, unable to restrain himself. Finally, a moan slipped past her lips and she slid all the way down his length. There was no way he could stop his hips from arching against her sweet descent. Her muscles squeezed him from the inside while her soft bottom caressed him from the outside. He couldn’t take it anymore.

  He grabbed her hips, pulling her hard against him as he thrust upward. She convulsed instantly. Her contractions milked his last shred of resistance. He arched back, almost coming off the bed with the force of his release.

  Jewel collapsed against his chest, their bodies still joined. After he regained his strength, he rubbed light circles across her back. He hadn’t lost her after all.

  He kissed the top of her head and tried to recall what he had promised to get him here. Memory flooded back, and his exhausted muscles tensed all over again, but not in a way that promised another round of blissful release. Unaware that his peaceful reprieve had been snatched away by the tentacles of reality, Jewel nuzzled her cheek against his chest. Nolan brushed back her hair and tried to breathe while he convinced himself that a truce with Bellamy would be worth it if it brought him more moments like this.

  Not fighting with Bellamy would be an unnatural act. He would have to be a saint. But better a saint than a priest. Now, all he had to do was to keep from getting killed while he walked on water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jewel held up a ring topped with a fat green stone, angling it so the sun pouring through the clearin
g created by the waterfall could shine through. The square cut emerald sparkled with life as it captured the sun and breathed from within. The ring was the most spectacular item they had recovered yet. At least, Jewel thought so. The others seemed just as impressed with the growing pile of gold coins the divers had retrieved from the pool’s dark bottom. Kent’s treasure equaled if not exceeded its rumored value.

  “It matches your eyes. If it were up to me, I’d see you kept it for yourself.”

  Without glancing at her father, Jewel tossed the ring in a basket with the rest of the jewelry. Brooches, pearl necklaces, and a ruby and onyx-encrusted cross filled the container to overflowing. Parker had excitedly named the precious stones for her. Jewel had never seen such riches, not even in her dreams. None was as fine as the ring, but she would rather wear the tail of a firefly around her finger than inherit her father’s greed. “The treasure’s for everyone to share evenly.”

  Bellamy leaned against the tall palm that shaded Jewel while she sifted through the muck brought up from the pond’s bottom. “Bah—since when shouldn’t a woman have a pretty bauble?”

  Jewel glanced at her father. “When it belongs to someone else. The Continental Congress gets their share and then the crew divides the rest.” She touched the gold signet ring, her wedding ring, that hung around her neck on a cord she’d snatched from a corset. “I have all the jewelry I need.”

  Bellamy nodded his head toward the ring. “He took that from me afore he left me here.”

  Jewel stared down at the ring as if it would somehow spring to life and bite her on the nose. She pulled it over her head and examined it. In the turmoil of her marriage, the ring, which belonged to Wayland anyway, hadn’t seemed important.