Broken Wing (24 page)

“Yes, yes, yes!” She covered his face with ardent kisses. “I’ll marry you, this very night! I can hardly believe we’re really going to do it!” She hugged him with joy. “I was so afraid something would happen to prevent it. Oh, Gabriel! Nothing would make me happier!”

He set her down with a happy grin, thankful she’d agreed, overjoyed to think that in a few short hours she would be his wife, and deeply relieved that the sadness he’d put there yesterday had finally left her eyes.

“Oh, my Lord, Gabriel, what shall I wear? I have nothing appropriate,” she said, uncharacteristically flustered.

“That’s never stopped you before, mignonne. Might I suggest your breeches? It will make it easier getting you there and back. Besides, sweetheart, do you really want to waste time finding something to wear when we have so little of it left, and when I plan to have you
naked as soon as I possibly can?” Remembering what Davey had said, he added, “I promise you, Sarah, we’ll be married properly when I return, with guests, and flowers, and music. You shall have a beautiful dress and your family will be there. But tonight is just for us.”

“Yes, of course,” she said with a happy smile, hauling on a pair of breeches and boots. “You’re absolutely right.” Turning around to look for a shirt, she found him waiting, hand outstretched, holding the shirt she’d pilfered from him a lifetime ago.

“I would be deeply grateful if you’d wear this, mignonne. It … moves me to see you in it.”

She was about to object, it was far too large for her, suitable only for a bed garment, but the hungry pleading in his eyes stifled her protest. Plucking it from his fingers with a saucy grin, she put it on and carefully tucked it in. “Your men will think I’m a terrible hoyden.”

“My men will think me the luckiest man on earth, and they will surely be right.” Sweeping her into his arms, he pulled her tight against his length and kissed the top of her head. “Can you manage to climb down the oak if I help you?”

“For heaven’s sake, Gabe,” she scoffed. “I’ve been climbing it all by myself since I was seven years old.”

“I should have known. Your pardon,
ma belle.”

They scrambled down to the beach, breathless and laughing like naughty children, and tumbled into the waiting boat. Gabriel wrapped her protectively in his cloak and grinned proudly at the men who’d come to
row them back to the ship. “Pierre. Antonio. May I have the honor of presenting my fiancée, and soon to be wife, the very lovely and thoroughly charming, Lady Sarah.”

“Enchantée, mademoiselle
, and very welcome you are, too,” Pierre responded with a cheeky grin. “Perhaps now the lad will cease growling and fretting, and leave us all in peace.”

“We have met before,” Antonio said with a warm smile. “It is a very great pleasure to see you again, my lady.”

“And you, too, Tony,” Sarah said, emerging from under Gabriel’s cloak.

“You’ve made our laddie a very happy man, my lady. We’re all most grateful to you for it. And I’m here to tell you that you might have done worse.”

“Indeed, gentlemen, thank you for your stirring endorsements,” Gabriel said dryly, as Sarah settled back against his chest.

It was a night she would always remember. The winds had died down shortly after sunset, and by the time the
L’Espérance
had anchored, the ocean was as still as glass. The moon was new, barely a sliver, but the sky pulsed with brilliant light as myriad stars flickered and sparked, reflected in the still waters below. The perfume of a late spring night, soft, fresh, and beguiling, was all around her, and as they approached the
L’Espérance
she could sense the muted bustle and excitement onboard the little ship. The men considered
Gabriel one of their own, and they had loved Sarah ever since she’d first sailed with them six years ago. Like many who roamed the sea, they were romantics at heart, and everyone had joined wholeheartedly in the enterprise, eager to see the young couple reunited.

Davey greeted her with a tight hug when she finally clambered up on deck. “Can you forgive me, cousin, for stealing him away?”

“If you bring him back to me safe and sound, Davey,” she said, returning his hug.

“I will, lass. He loves you something fierce, you know.”

“I know, Davey. I love him something fierce, too.”

He regarded her ruefully. He had loved her since the first time he’d seen her, awkward, and gangly and dressed like a boy. He’d been angry, hurt, and lost, grieving his parents and enraged at their meaningless deaths, a stranger in a strange new world. She’d made him laugh, joined him enthusiastically on his adventures, imagined him a great hero, and made him feel welcome when he’d thought himself completely alone. He’d never told her how he felt. He’d been waiting for the right time, and now it would never come.

“I’m happy for you both, cousin. You know how much I care for you. You’ve chosen well, my girl.”

“Thank you, Davey, I know,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, “and I love you, too.”

Gabriel came up behind her, enfolding her in his arms. “Now is your last chance to change your mind,
Sarah,” he whispered in her ear.

Looking back at him over her shoulder, she grinned. “Not a chance, Gabriel. You are well and truly caught and I shan’t let you wriggle free.”

“Well, then, children, let’s go to my cabin, shall we?”

Sarah and Gabriel stood openmouthed in amazement. Davey’s cabin had been transformed. The bed had been made with silk coverlets and festooned with rose petals. Flowers were everywhere, in wild profusion, strewn on the floor, spilling from vases, lining the windows, and framing the door. The room was lit with scores of candles, bathing it in a magical glow, and a feast had been set on the table, the proud work of Mr. Aubrey, who was waiting in his cassock to perform the ceremony.

“Oh, Davey, thank you so much,” Sarah said, hugging him with tears in her eyes.

“Think nothing of it, cousin.” He squeezed her tight, then steered her back toward Gabriel.

All the crew that could be spared were there, crowded into the cabin and the doorway and spilling out into the corridor as Gabriel and Sarah stepped forward to take their vows. Taking a little gold band he’d managed to find in Polperro, Gabriel placed it on Sarah’s finger as Mr. Aubrey proudly pronounced them man and wife to the hearty cheers of captain and crew. He kissed her then, passionate and tender, oblivious to the company, the swell of congratulations, or the wild
music that swirled around them, until Davey stole her from him, pulling her into a merry swirling dance.

The only awkwardness was when Davey asked them how he was to register them in his logbook. Gabriel hadn’t given it any thought, hadn’t even thought to discuss it with Sarah. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned into him, whispering “I’d much rather St. Croix, than Munroe, if you don’t mind too terribly.” He thought about it a moment, and found that he really didn’t mind. He was done with being ashamed of his past. It had made him who he was, and who he was, was the man whom Sarah loved and had chosen to marry. St. Croix was as good a name as any, and he signed it in the register with a flourish.

The next half hour was a mad blend of dancing, feasting, and toasts to the happy couple, until Davey called a halt. “Enough, you scurvy lot. You were invited to the wedding, not the honeymoon! It’s time to take it out on deck and let the happy couple sort things out for themselves.” This announcement was greeted with good-natured jeers and bawdy jests, but in short order the celebrations had moved down to the lower deck, and Gabriel and Sarah finally found themselves alone.

Gabriel moved to bar the door before turning to face her. She sat cross-legged on the bed, in her breeches and his big shirt, a crown of flowers perched slightly askew atop her head. His heart ached at the sight of her. There was nothing more precious to him in all the world. “I would see you in nothing but my
shirt, Madame Wife, if you would be so kind.”

She leaned back on her elbows, shimmying her hips, hooking the band of her breeches with her thumbs, and tugging as she slid them to her knees. Sitting up, she peeled them slowly down her calves to her ankles, and then, with a little shake of her leg, she hooked them with her toes and tossed them carelessly to the floor.

He watched her, mesmerized.

“Like so, husband?” she inquired, leaning back on her elbows again, her splendid legs slightly splayed, her look, pure seduction.

“Exactly so, wife,” he managed hoarsely, aching all over at the sight of her, his entire being vibrating with carnal excitement. Her fingers twisted and played with the fringes of his shirt, her shirt,
their
shirt—raising it slowly up her thighs, revealing wonderful mysteries. His eyes flared, igniting with pleasure, darkening with passion. He stalked her now, his lips thick and burning, wanting her kisses. His fingertips tingled with the urge to touch her. His arms ached to hold her. His woman. His wife.

Stretching her body with a voluptuous feline grace, she flashed him a wicked grin. He pounced on her, growling, trapping her easily beneath him, his muscular arms keeping him from crushing her. Engulfing her, he claimed her lips in a long, searing, kiss. “I love you,” he said into her ear, his voice husky with emotion. “I may yet go mad, for love of you.”

The tenderness in his eyes and voice took her breath away.

“Sarah, I never dreamed … I never dared hope … when I met you, I couldn’t have imagined you’d ever be mine, but I wanted you from that very first day. I was barely surviving. When you came, my life began. I love you with every part of me, my heart and my mind, my body and my soul, and I thank you with all my heart, for giving me your love and giving me a life.”

He reached up to draw the floral crown from her head, watching as her chestnut curls tumbled and cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in a riotous stream, combing his fingers through it and trapping one long tendril to draw to his lips. His fingers found her chin and eased her mouth to his. He breathed into her, drawing his lips over hers, again and again, touching and teasing, imploring her to open.

“Oh, Gabe,” she moaned, hot and dizzy from his kisses, “I was so afraid I’d lose you. When you left without saying good-bye … I—”

“I know, mignonne. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be. You’re here now. I only meant … I felt as if I’d lost a part of myself. I felt sick and empty inside. I’m so glad you came back! I can hardly believe you did this for me. You’re the sweetest man alive, Gabriel. I
adore
you! I will love you until the day I die, and I am so happy and relieved that we’re actually married.”

“It made you feel better, mignonne, yes?” he said with a happy grin. “I thought it would.”

“Oh, yes, my love, much better. Now you’re mine, and I won’t let anything take you away from me.”

He slid a leg over hers, and then she was under him, her hair spilling across the pillow, shimmering in the candlelight. She nuzzled him through his open shirt, her hands sliding sensuously up and down his arms as she kissed his powerful chest, his throat, and then his wicked luscious lips. Lying there wrapped in his strength, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations as his lips brushed her hair, her cheeks, her ear, and he placed feathery kisses against her upturned nose and jaw. The soft linen of his shirt was warm from his flesh, soft against her cheek, and she gave a soft cry of protest when he withdrew to pull it off, subsiding when he returned, hot and silky smooth, to her arms. She’d always loved touching him, and now she indulged herself, letting her hands roam his sleek, sculpted form, feeling the taut muscle of it, the strength. She caressed the warm skin of his back, feeling the faint ridges of scar tissue, feeling his muscles flex under her touch. She pulled him closer, so her aching breasts pressed tight against his solid chest, and his hard-muscled thigh lay firm and heavy between the heated juncture of hers.

His generous hands explored her slender rib cage and the swell of her breasts, caressing her through the fabric of her shirt, sending frissons of delight wherever they alighted, rubbing and stroking, sliding and petting. He thrust against her, growling deep in his
throat, and she moaned and arched her back, shifting her hips and digging her heels into the mattress, grinding against him as she tried to relieve the aching longing between her legs.

He slid his hand under her shirt, grazing her naked skin with his fingertips, teasing her nipples with clever fingers as he continued his fevered kisses, stifling her moans of pleasure with his mouth as she squirmed and strained against him. Lowering his head, he rasped her peak with his wet, sinuous tongue, making her cry out with pleasure. Cupping her breasts with both hands, he moved from one to the other, suckling their ridged tips through the wet material as she groaned in bliss, her hungry cries of passion muted by the distant sounds of music and laughter from the deck below.

“More, please … Gabe, more … harder.” She pushed against him, wanting more, and he obliged her. Pushing aside her shirt, he tugged at her with his teeth, sucking and stroking with lips and tongue as he moved his hand to play gently with her soft curls, separating her nether lips with his fingers, stroking back and forth in a teasing motion, as pleasure and delight coiled and spread within her. Rocking and moaning with need, she pushed against his hand, reaching for his hips, desperate for release.

“Soon, mignonne,” he promised huskily, running his hand up and down her legs. He nudged them gently apart, kissing the inside of her thighs, then bent his head to tickle her silky heat with his tongue.

“Gabriel, please, love … you’re killing me,” she moaned, clutching at his shoulders.

“But it’s such a sweet way to die, my love,” he murmured, looking up at her, his eyes smoky with passion and desire. He parted her with his tongue and began hungrily kissing her core. Frantic, aching, raging with desire, she tugged and pulled against his head, making primitive sounds of surrender, urging him on until she was drowning in hot, rolling waves of ecstasy, drowning in love, crying out his name.

Drawing himself up her length, he captured her lips with his own.
“Je t’aime, mignonne. Je t’adore
. I love you so much, Sarah.”