Her Gentleman Pirate (High Seas & High Stakes Book 2) (4 page)

She ripped the buttons clear apart. “Very good then. We’re in agreement.”

* * *

T
he bravado Arabella
fought hard to show was exactly that. A show. In no way was she un-rattled by what the captain was making her do. Her fingers trembled as she slipped his breeches over his bottom and down his thighs. She let out a breath when she noted the lack of drawers under his pants.

Worse was the fact she allowed her hand to touch his skin, reveling in the warmth and smoothness begging to be stroked.

She had to bend before him to take them to his feet and she would swear she heard him groan. She wasn’t fool enough not to know he was enjoying himself. He probably wished she would touch him, tease him into seducing her.

Never. There was no chance of that happening, in this lifetime or the next. He may be the most handsome pirate she’d ever seen and possibly the nicest one, other than the tying up and forgetfulness with food, but that didn’t change what he’d done to her.

“There, you’re naked. Are you happy now?” She raised her brow and tried not to notice the jutting member of his body that demanded attention. Arabella stood, hating the fact that once again the captain smelled of the sea, with a hint of brandy. His hands clenched at his side and she tore her gaze away from his body to look him in the eye. “Well?” she asked at length when he didn’t reply.

“You’re determined to ignore me, aren’t you?” He stroked himself and Arabella didn’t know where to look or what to do.

She walked around him not wanting him to see her mouth agape like a fish. She fiddled with the bed sheets. “Determined? I thought I
was
ignoring you.” Sitting on the bed, she removed her slippers and slid off her stockings. It was so lovely not having shoes on after so many days, but what she’d really love was a bath. A nice, deep, fragrant bath.

Laying on the bed, she turned away and set herself to going to sleep. It was little use. As soon as she closed her eyes, images of his form bombarded her mind. Long, muscular thighs. An abdomen she could use to wash clothing on. Eyes that were sleepy with sin and need. His member…

Arabella’s stomach clenched. She shouldn’t even be thinking of him in those terms. Her body was becoming a traitor. The captain was a criminal, and awful blot on society that no woman of her class would ever look at or give themselves to. Maybe the trauma of being kidnapped had damaged her mind and principles in some way.

The bed dipped and her tension spiked. Whether in fear or trepidation she wasn’t sure. Without another word the captain settled into the bedding, seemingly content to sleep without molesting her. It was a ridiculous situation. Making out one was asleep when you knew the other was not was absurd.

She peeked at him through her lashes. He was lying on his back, one arm acting as a pillow beneath his head. He stared at the ceiling, his face relaxed but contemplative. What was he thinking? Was he hoping she’d crawl up over his chest and kiss him? Slide her hand along his smooth stomach until she hit the apex between his thighs and stroked him harder than he already was. Heat pooled at her core and she inwardly cursed herself to Hades.

“Goodnight, Arabella.”

The air in her lungs vanished. Her name on his lips wasn’t anything she wished to hear now or ever. It rolled off his tongue in the brogue she’d heard only once before, eliciting a deep-rooted sense of rightness to spark in her soul.

Damn the man. “Go to hell,” she replied, rolling over once more and giving him the view of her back.

Her conflicting emotions were absurd as the situation she now found herself. Arabella clutched the pillow, refusing her body to turn back to the captain and take what he offered. A night of passion, most likely the only one she’d ever enjoy, but she could not. He had wronged her, taken her against her will, damn it. In Malta her life had been organized, planned, her future set and no matter how droll it would be, it was her lot in life. She could not go to her marriage bed ruined.

Despair washed over her like a wave. Who was she kidding. She was already ruined thanks to the ass beside her. Damn him.

A
rabella woke
in a tangle of arms and legs. A solid heartbeat thumped beneath her cheek and she stilled as realization hit her. She could not be asleep, cuddled up to the most inappropriate man she’d ever met in her entire life.

His hand slid down her back and she inwardly cursed. The shift she’d worn to bed had twisted about her waist and she couldn’t move. She tried to ease away, not wanting him to find her in his arms like some wanton hussy he picked up in a port.

“Going somewhere?” His voice sounded husky with sleep.

Arabella jumped and met his gaze. “I think it’s obvious that I am.” She scrambled back, but not quick enough. He rolled her onto her back, his lower body tantalizingly close to the apex of her thighs. Again, heat pooled at her core and she fought not to let her legs open to him and show him without words what her body desperately craved.

The touch of a man. Not a boy who ignored her, enjoyed his friends more than his betrothed, but a man who enjoyed women, pleasured them and left them wanting more.

As if sensing her need he pushed gently against her. Arabella gasped and fought not to give way to him. He no longer looked sleepy but intense. His whole being zeroed in on her, waiting, wanting, asking a silent question she could not answer.

Not because she didn’t want to but because her voice seemed incapable of function. She cleared her throat. “Get off, you brute.”

He did as she asked, grinning before he sat up on his elbow. The sheet dipped past his stomach and again she was reminded of his spectacular form. He patted the bed. “I was enjoying our closer arrangement. Perhaps you’d like to remove your shift and come and join me again.”

Arabella clenched her fists. He was impossible.
Impossible to ignore…
“I think somewhere along our association you’ve become confused. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I just want you to get whatever you think is owed so I can leave. This is all.”

“Did you know that when you slept in my arms, you stroked my chest and sighed? I think deep down in your conscience you want me.”
Could he sound more smug?
He flipped the bedding back and stood, giving her the first full view of his back.

Oh, good God
. It was perhaps just as perfect as his front. She shook her head as he stretched, even at this distance, his strength and height making her feel miniscule in the room.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Arabella pulled at her skirts that were caught beneath her bottom; fell onto the floor trying to get as far away as possible from him that she could. She scrambled to her feet, stormed over to his armoire and pulled out a shirt and breeches. Walking up to him she threw them at his face. “I demand you clothe yourself immediately.”

“Not without the help of my new valet.”

A lock of hair slipped over his brow as he drew the clothing away from his face. He was a fiend of the worst kind. She had to give it to him, he really was trying to annoy her to the point of despair. Arabella laughed despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

He pulled the shirt on himself and grinned. “And you, miss, look delightful when you laugh. You should do it more often. It may delay the effects of becoming an ape leader before your time.”

She gasped as he strode out the room, naked from the waist down and without a care to the fact. He was an enigma and one she doubted she would ever understand.

A
rabella paced the small chamber
, the temper boiling inside her hotter than the Italian sun. For two days she’d been locked up in the room with minimal interaction with people. At this moment in time, she’d gladly talk to the lowest deckhand if only to hear someone else’s voice.

She slumped onto a chair. Why had she been left alone again. They had parted on reasonable terms. Other than her being called a future ape leader, but then she really couldn’t see the insult in that. There were worst things.

Over the last few days she had thought about putting her circumstances aside, and forming a truce. She couldn’t stay indoors forever. Just a day was enough to put her into a decline. It couldn’t go on.

The door opened and four men entered. Arabella clutched the desk chair she was sitting on not fully comprehending why they were there until they pulled a tub through the door and placed it to one the side of the room. Over the next few minutes, other men brought in buckets of steaming water.

A bath. There was a god.

“Forgive me for leaving you to your own devices for the last two days. I was required on deck.” The captain walked over to a shelf and grabbed what she assumed to be soap. “You may bathe in privacy. Come outside when you’re done. I wish to wash also. You’ll find clean clothes that may possibly fit you in the chest of drawers, although you’ll have to be content with men’s clothing. It’s all I have.”

Arabella nodded. “Thank you. I can’t tell you enough how much I want a bath.” Just the thought of that warm soapy water made her want to strip down to nothing right now. Captain present or not.

No sooner had he arrived he was gone again. She undressed quickly and moaned as she slid into the fresh, hot water. She washed herself thoroughly, scrubbed her hair and then laid back to soak for a few minutes. Days of grime became nothing but a memory as the water cleaned away her immediate troubles.

Should she die right now she’d die happy.

* * *

S
tephen looked
over to his cabin door once more and still Arabella wasn’t to be seen. It had been well half an hour since he’d left her to bathe. Surely, the woman wouldn’t still be in there.

The thought of the soapy water cleansing her skin made him ache. He ran a hand through his hair before turning about and heading toward his room. Maybe she’d fallen asleep. Drowned even. Was right at this moment dead. He quickened his pace, and without heed he threw open the cabin door and stopped.

His imagination had nothing on what Arabella looked like, naked, dripping with water and smelling of lavender. She squealed and pulled the small drying towel about her, but it didn’t matter. The image of her long legs, perfectly sculptured waist and breasts that would fit his hands nicely burned permanently into his mind.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get out.”

A blush stole up her neck making her cheeks very pink. “You were taking so long. I thought you may have fallen asleep and drowned.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child. Don’t be absurd.”

“I can see that,” he stated, allowing his gaze to slide over her again. His jaw clenched. Shutting the door behind him, he leaned against the wood. Hoped that in some miniscule way it would keep him from striding over to her and kissing her senseless.

Her eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be staring at me like that and you shouldn’t be in this room. You need to leave so I can dress.”

Stephen grunted. He supposed he should do everything she asked, but he could not. “If I do as you ask I want a favor in return.”

“What sort of favor?” She stepped back, wariness settling in her eyes, but Stephen could also see curiosity mingled within her dark green orbs.

“Come here.” His command surprisingly worked. Each step she took swayed her hips in a silent seduction. As she stood before him, he ran his gaze over her delicate features. She was exquisite and not someone who should be wasted on Lord Montague. That man couldn’t appreciate the woman’s form if she was laid out before him on a salver.

He ran a finger down her arm and tiny goosebumps rose on her skin. “Have you ever been kissed?”

She didn’t reply, only shook her head.

“Then let me remedy that immediately.” Stephen leaned down, cupped her jaw and claimed her lips. Kissed her with all the pent up passion, desire, and respect he could summon.

Her lips were soft and he couldn’t help but notice untutored. He supped from them, beckoned her to copy, to follow his lead. And just as quick as her wit, Arabella kissed him back. He groaned as her fingers spiked into his hair, pulling him close. Fire coursed through his blood and he walked her backwards before pushing her up against the door.

Her mouth opened on a whimper and without thought, he took advantage and deepened the embrace. She tasted of wine and smelt of flowers. An intoxicating mix if ever there was one. The glide of their mouths, wet and wanton made him burn. With a will of their own, his hands ventured from her jaw to travel down her waist.

Arabella wrapped her arms about his neck and took control of the kiss. For a moment, Stephen lost all thought as her towel slipped to the floor. He grappled with the fact she was naked in his arms, and seemingly oblivious to what had happened to her only piece of modesty. For a woman who was new to the art of kissing, she was doing a wonderful job.

Her breasts pushed against his chest, her nipples hard little beads that begged to be kissed. There was no doubt where this kiss was leading, and Stephen wanted to conclude this little interlude with his cock buried deep in her willing core. He clasped the perfect mounds of her ass and the action shocked the little minx to her senses.
Clever lass
. Had she kept kissing him the way she was he would’ve seen just how far she would’ve taken the interlude.

She squeaked, her eyes darting down to her naked form before she pushed at his chest. With reluctance, he pulled back, giving her the space she wanted. Her emerald eyes sparkled with desire and now unfortunately, loathing. His gut clenched. Touché, Arabella for he too wanted her more than he’d wanted any other woman before, and yet his loathing was not the same as hers.

He loathed the fact she was the daughter of a man who had wronged him. Loathed that his grandfather, his excess in the gambling hells had made it impossible for Stephen to court her as an equal, as it should have been.

“Excuse me.” She walked over to his cupboard and pulled out some clothes. Without a flicker of embarrassment, she dressed before him. Stephen stood rooted on the spot, his mouth gaped and his body ached with longing and denial. Of all things holy he wanted her.

He also knew when to stay away. She walked out and slammed the door behind her. She was angry with him and with herself, he could guess. He ran his hands through his hair. He shouldn’t have kissed her. She wasn’t here to become his chère-amie no matter how much he wanted the fact.

Needing to distract himself, he quickly stripped and jumped into the tepid bath water. It didn’t help him. If anything, the aroma wafting up only pulled him further into the delectable lady’s lures.

He ran a hand over his jaw and scratched the stubble there. He wanted to have her, that was a given. But this endless longing to hold her, tease her, talk to the chit was beyond his normal reactions when around a beautiful woman.

So why was it so different with Arabella?

The fact she hated him, wanted nothing to do with him and certainly had no desire to bed him couldn’t possibly be the reason. Although after their last interaction, the latter may not be so true. Did she desire him as well? The thought jumbled in his mind and even Stephen had a hard time disbelieving it.

Someone so unattainable, above him, beyond his social sphere shouldn’t be someone he wanted so much.

But he did. Desperately.

He found Arabella at the bow looking out at the setting sun. The light altered the colour of her hair and sent strands of fire flicking throughout the dark brown locks. “You may dine on the deck with me and my crew tonight.”

She didn’t acknowledge him; just continued to stare straight ahead. “You can’t kiss me like that again.” Arabella turned and pinned him with her determined gaze. “I’m betrothed. You’re a kidnapping pirate. You cannot go about kissing women you’re only too happy to steal away and ruin. I won’t allow it.”

The mention of her future husband made his gut churn like he’d eaten rotten fish. “Are you in any way acquainted with Lord Montague? Or was this just another absurd notion of your father’s?”

“Don’t mention my father to me. You’re already reprehensible, don’t make yourself irredeemable,” she said, her voice thrumming with anger.

Stephen stepped before her and clasped her arm, stopping her from escaping. “Does that mean you think me redeemable?” He grinned at her ferocious glare. “That the impeccable Miss Hester could possibly look past my misdemeanours and see the man inside.” Stephen started at his own words. Did he even want her to see the real him? And if she did, what was he willing to do about that.

Arabella burst out laughing and he raised his brow. He thought over what he’d said and couldn’t see anything amusing in it whatsoever. “Are you finished?” he asked at length, when tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

“The man inside? You’ll be sprouting poetry next, Captain Blackmore.” She poked him in the chest and his body reveled in the contact. Little as it was. “I will never see you as anything other than a lying, stealing rogue. I should think you made the decision to be who you are many years ago, and set out quite determinedly to accomplish it. And since being here this last week or so, I see nothing but amusement and enjoyment with how your life has played out. There is no underlying man inside. Only an ass.”