My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter 14

The long ride down the Ashley River and his quick, methodic bursts of power to the oars to move the boat along the water did nothing to help the mounting anxiety that she’d been kidnapped or harmed. He paid the local stable master for an adequate gelding to ride, a sturdy brown fellow who took his weight easily. He scanned the road and alleys of Charles Town on the way to Elizabeth Browning’s home for any sign of his bride-to-be or her hulking henchman.

A man named Hobbs led him into a parlor to await the lady of the house. She breezed into the room with grace and authority, her eyes sparkling with humor and pleasure.

“Why, Lord Blackhurst, how wonderful to see you.” She held out her hand as he did the proper bowing over it required of polite society.

“Mrs. Browning, the pleasure is mine.”

“Anne tells me you’re to be married. It’s just wonderful news. You don’t know how many ladies have been plotting your marriage since you arrived.”

He smiled politely. “As a matter of fact, there have been several proud mothers who were not so discreet regarding their intentions to wed me to their daughters.”

“Of course not. Once some of the English arrive here, they quickly lose their ability to be covert.” The small lines in the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. She edged backward and then took a seat on the long sofa in the parlor.

He remained standing, not intending to delay himself in finding his missing bride. The hour grew later the longer he stood there. It was nearly three in the afternoon.

“I apologize for my intrusion, Mrs. Browning, but might I inquire if you’ve seen Mrs. Morgan this afternoon?”

“Yes, dear. She was here this morning and had a cup of coffee in this very parlor.” Curiosity smoothed out the wrinkles on her forehead. “She has not returned to Cranford Hall?”

“I’m afraid she has not.” He was sure his frown mirrored that of Elizabeth’s face, her dark brows drawn closely together. “You would not happen to know in which direction she headed?”

Placing a finger against her cheek in concentration, Addison fairly burst with impatience to know her thoughts. But, he was able to remain polite and steady, although his palms were beginning to sweat, imagining all the things that could befall Anne while not in his sight.

“She did not say exactly, that I recall. She did mention sightseeing.”

“Did she spend some time here?”

“Not at all. Perhaps half an hour. She came by to thank me for her wardrobe. She’s wearing my Lenore’s clothing, you know. And, she wears it well, I might add.” He nodded to keep her talking. Perhaps something would trigger her whereabouts.

She stood and walked to the teacart before the open window, the breeze blowing the curtains. “We spoke of Charles Town, the pirate activity, and . . . oh, dear.”

The vein in his neck felt as if it would burst with the pulsating going on there, his heart pounding with the anxiety of her discovery. “What is it?”

“We’d discussed how fascinating the pirates were, and I’d even told her that some of the more seedy taverns down at the dockside area were known to be frequented by those pirates, even now. Oh dear. She was very interested. I was sure she would go shopping instead.” The worry in her blue eyes was real. “You do not think she’d venture into a tavern, do you? She was awfully curious.”

Boiling, that’s how he’d describe the blood rushing through the veins in his neck and the side of his head. That was precisely what the wench had done. In the game of proving she wasn’t the bride for him, she’d gone in search of unladylike activities. Or,
had
she met with foul play? Was she in trouble?

He wobbled between anger and fear.

Hoping his features did not betray either of these emotions, he smiled at Elizabeth, reassuring her. “I’m sure she’s gone sightseeing as you’ve said, or shopping. We do have a wedding to prepare for.”

She allowed her shoulders to drop in relief. “Thank goodness. You’re right, Lord Blackhurst. There is a wedding to shop for. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I do hope you’ll come to the wedding, Mrs. Browning. Anne would love to see you there after the gracious gift you’ve given her of your daughter’s clothing.”

She smiled up at him as he bent over her hand. “I wouldn’t miss it, dear.”

“Thank you again. Now, I must ride over to Market Street, where I’m sure I’ll find my bride, buying all manner of items.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Say hello again to her for me.”

He left her on the sofa, and strode from the house. Jumping onto a horse’s back was second nature to him when he was in a hurry. He’d wasted a good twenty minutes speaking with Mrs. Browning; it was well after three o’clock. Riding hard, he headed back toward his warehouse, making the turn to Bay Street, where he knew a few taverns to be.

Out of all the businesses in Charles Town, the local tavern had to be the most common. Everyone needed a good meal and ale after a long day’s work, loading and unloading the vast amounts of ships making port here. There were a few Addison had been in quite often, a couple that he’d been warned were not for the faint of heart. He started with those first. If she were aiming for unladylike, Town’s End and The Three Cups would be the places she’d go first.

The dark, moist alleyways he passed were empty as he scanned them, but seeing a vagrant or drunkard lying there, or stumbling about only increased his sense of urgency and fear.

What would she do if a hand had reached out to accost her? What had she worn, and were those beautifully shaped breasts spilling out as in most of the gowns he’d seen her wear?

Nerves tingling, he galloped up to the door of The Three Cups, not wasting time and sliding off his rented mount right before the door. A patron took that moment to exit, and the man gave Addison a startled look and grabbed a knife from his pants pocket. Upon spying Addison’s attire or his size, the bloke backed away with his hands up.

Addison nodded, and pushed his way through the door. It banged against the wall. The interior was loud and lively and dark. Scanning the area, he noticed two women, only, and they were not Anne Morgan. Dirty, scantily clad, and blond—neither woman carried themselves the way Anne would in such a place. Frowning, he turned to the small barkeep, who flinched as Addison approached.

“You’ve not seen a red-haired lady today, have you, sir?”

The man shook his head, vigorously. “N-n-no, milord.”

Addison nodded, turned on his heel, scanned the area once more, and headed for the door. It swung wildly at his exit. Not bothering to mount his horse, he grabbed the reins and led him a few doors down to Town’s End. No name fit a tavern such as this one. It was the end of the dock area, and the end of any sane person who entered. The smell and filth of the place nearly made him gag, but he strode fully into the building anyway, scanning it with a cursory glance. Only two patrons sat inside. There were no women, and he had no doubt Anne would have turned right around and left the place, just as he was doing.

Three taverns later, numerous rakes and pulls of his hair, fury and fear making him sweat, with a hulking, bald Raphael standing outside the last one, The Hound and the Hare, and he determined he’d finally found her.

Raphael’s brows rose high, surprise widening his eyes at finding Addison striding angrily his direction. He didn’t flinch, however. The man was too scarred and dangerous for such a cowardly reaction. Addison needn’t ask the mute where to find his bride. The man had obviously been guarding his mistress, listening for any sign of distress.

Bloody hell, he would spank her proper this time. Damn propriety or his conscience. The vixen deserved it for catapulting him through so many emotions in so few hours.

He’d gone from trying to remove her sensual lips and body from his mind, to irritation at her antics, to anxiety of her disappearance, to fear of a kidnapping, to fury over finding her at a dockside tavern.

Calm. He needed to breathe. He’d not allow her to know she’d gotten under his skin so quickly. That reaction would be playing into the hand she’d dealt him.

Pushing open the tavern door, the darkness of the interior and smell of freshly baked bread greeted him. Once inside, several pair of eyes found their way to him, wondering why a man dressed in his handsome attire would be in their tavern. Some stopped drinking. The tavern keeper ceased cleaning the table where he stood, and the serving girl squealed with delight upon seeing him.

At least one female accepted his presence.

But, only one woman commanded his attention.

She was easy to spot and stuck out like a red stain on a white tablecloth. She wore a deep blue, cotton gown. Her pale skin glowed in the candlelight, in deep contrast with the gown. Her radiant, sunset-red braid hung to the side. Her back to him, she sat, not like a lady in a regal gown, but with her feet apart, one hand resting in the space between her thighs. He could see the dark boots she wore as her gown was hiked slightly by her resting hand.

Addison gave everyone in the room a menacing glance, warning them with his eyes to stand back. The quiet in the room palpable, he strode in her direction.

Seeing her sitting calmly in one of the most seedy and dangerous taverns in Charles Town, as if she were right at home in such an environment, perplexed him. Never mind the fact that he had been terrified at the thought she’d run away, or been kidnapped. But, knowing her, he figured she’d just rebelled.

Never mind that a surge of desire hit him from stomach to loins, he was damned furious now.

She sat with legs spread slightly apart, in a not-so-elegant manner, and began swirling her gravy with a dagger. “Another ale if you don’t mind, girl.” It was if she’d planned to stay for a long visit and was quite bored with the establishment.

He’d had enough without even speaking to her.

“I would mind, very much.” He knew when she recognized his voice for the dagger ceased its circular motion. However, she did not cower or flinch.

“I would suppose so, seeing as you do not like to see me drink.” Far too angry now to trust his actions, it was imperative he take her somewhere private so he might cool down, and perhaps speak to her in a more rational manner.

Bloody hell, that would be difficult. All his previous attempts for levelheaded actions with this woman seemed to fly into thin air.

“Your consumption of alcohol was never an issue, until you became quite foxed, love.” Her shoulders lifted on an agitated intake of breath.

“I was not foxed.” She turned those bright, angry, emerald eyes on him, lips open with indignation.

Pursing his lips together, he placed his fingers under her arm, gently, but forcefully instructing her to rise. She stood, but jerked back from his touch.

“I can stand on my own. I’ve not consumed that much ale, thank you.”

Frowning, he gripped her above the elbow as she continued to try to dodge his touch, pushing her toward the back of the tavern. He gave the barkeep a meaningful glare. It was a
Don’t mind us, we’re going into the storeroom
kind of glare.

Anne continued to jerk away from him, “How dare you?” as he guided and semi-shoved her into the back room.

She sputtered and cursed him along the way. “Damn you, what are you doing? Don’t touch me, damn you.”

Once inside, he was surprised to find light filtering in through two windows at the top of the back wall. He turned to the door and closed it, slowly.

Then, he dropped the latch to bar anyone from opening it, and barring her from escaping the fierce punishment she deserved.

Anne turned to give him another tongue-lashing, but seeing the door closed, her eyes widened in surprise.

“I think it’s time for you to explain, my love, why I have found my bride in a nefarious, dockside tavern.”

Chapter 15

Anne swallowed the sudden fear in her chest, and the anticipation swirling in her loins. It didn’t stop her heart from pounding against her ribs or the sudden dryness in her mouth.

The latch banged with finality. Addison’s broad shoulders dwarfed the door behind him. He turned to face her in the small room and she shivered at the dire look in his eyes.

She stepped back and bumped into a wooden table. There was no escape, only several tankards and cups collecting dust on the table, and beyond, stacks of barrels and crates. She couldn’t possibly crawl through the one small window situated high above her head. No doors besides the one on the other side of the quietly brooding, gorgeous man leaning against the small, but heavy wooden door.

Swallowing hard, she would play this to the end. If she were going to send this man packing and win back her freedom, she’d have to continue with her act. These were methods she’d not batted an eye at in the past, but under his intense gaze, her fortitude shredded like rotted gauze in a storm.

The stories she had told thus far had not been embellishments, but true stories of her experiences as a pirate. But, she truly was trying to settle down with her babies and just be . . . normal. Or, as normal as she could for the sake of her children.

“Nefarious?” She shrugged, nonchalantly looking down for some imaginary filth on her fingernail. “This is nothing.”

“Nothing. So, you’ve frequented establishments worse than this one, eh?” His tone held a note of disbelief.

Tension nearly poured from his tall form, still blocking her exit. She could just imagine his facial expression upon hearing the truth. She inspected the fingernails on her other hand.

“Many.”

He regarded her with a slight twist to his lips, as if she were amusing him.

Anne squared her shoulders and raised her chin.

“Name one, then. Any tavern you’ve been in so frequently that is unfit for a lady.”

“The Old Dog, for one. I know the owner of the establishment very well. His name is Peg-leg Jim.”

Addison’s eyes were as silver as the fork she’d used at Henry’s manor, a deadly color that made him appear roguish and dangerous. “
Hmmm
. And, where is this illustrious tavern?” His eyes narrowed.

Anger, heat, and passion kept her feet firmly rooted to the floor, but she wanted to smack her forehead with her hand. Why had she mentioned the most obvious pirate hideout in the sea?

“Tortuga.”

The grin he displayed melted every bone in her body, or so it felt. Shivers traveled up and down her arms, her legs . . . in her very center.

“You claim to associate with pirates now? How . . . adventurous.” His gaze dipped down her body, sending another pulse of desire down into her core. “Tell me, were you looking for pirates today, my love?” His voice had lowered to a slow drawl, seductive and coaxing. The same purring sound he’d used in Henry’s study.

Remembering their previous encounter did nothing to calm the furious pounding inside her chest. She should be frightened at the look in his eyes. She should be pleading for him to open the door. But, pleading and fear were not two words she liked to give any credence.

“Why is it that a lady cannot retrieve a good tankard of ale, and homemade biscuits of her own accord?”

“Aye, that she can, but a lady with any sense would get an escort to a restaurant and not the dockside taverns. Otherwise, she could be abducted and forced into—let’s say, a store room.”

Smiling—the way he smiled when he was about to touch her in ways no man had ever cared to touch her—he spread his arms wide. What? Intimidation, back to lessons on the proper behavior of a true lady?

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the muscles straining against his shirt at the gesture, the tapering of his waist, and long legs in snug breeches. She swallowed again. Fear, anxiety, anticipation, desire . . . she did not know, anymore, her own reaction to this man.

An overwhelming surge of desire for him would have her body betraying her in a second. She raised a hand to her throat, trying to dispel the traitorous feelings of her body.

She wanted him. Wanted him inside her.

“No one but you would dare abduct me.” Trembling fingers moved over her neck and back down to her side.

Pushing away from the door, he slowly and deliberately advanced on her.

She waited for the assault—craved it more than anything at this moment.

“An obedient lady would not need to be abducted.” Stopping before her, he reached his arm out, knuckles caressing her cheek. “Such a rebel.”

She could not allow him to believe she would concede to his caressing her again, even though she would not be pleased until he did.

Swatting his hand away, she breathed vehemently. “Obedient! That is something I’ll never be. Not for any man.”

His nostrils flared for just a moment. His jaw clenched, followed by a grinding of teeth. Hands fisted at his sides, he glared down at her.

“You
will
be obedient, future wife, and stop evading my touch.”

She threw her head back. “Or, what? Will you whip me? Break me? Make me a servant in your home?”

The vein in his neck ticked furiously, but he did not raise his voice.

“I’m not above spanking you, wench.”

Rackham had called her a wench many times, and just remembering that coward enraged her.

“You arrogant, son-of-a-bitch.” Anne stood up on her toes and slapped him across the cheek.

Flinching, he grabbed her hand and held it there as she panted, his teeth grinding together.

“I’ll—”

She had no idea what he was about to say, nor did she care. She reached up with her free hand, grabbed him behind the head, and brought his mouth down to hers.

It was the thing riding her the most. The fire, the passion, the desire. He could end it, or stoke it.

Addison remained still for only a second, then all hell broke loose. Her passion and anger urging her on, she opened her mouth, and plunged her tongue through his supple lips. He opened immediately, crushing her body into him, a growl erupting from his lips as his tongue delved inside her mouth.

Moaning, Anne tugged on his hair with one hand and began to pop the buttons from his shirt as her fingers ripped down through the opening. She fell into the hot, open-mouthed kiss as if diving from the cliffs of Curacao. She could not tell if he growled, or the noise came from her own throat. Buttons hit the floor as his hands found her hips, rotating her to bring his hardness against her core.

His strong hands grabbed her buttocks, gripping them tightly, and slid her up and down against the part of him she desired most. “
Ohhhh
!” The sensation was too great. A wetness pooled in her core.

“You drive me mad, woman.” His ragged voice only served to increase her frenzy.

Their tongues mingled and caressed. Her skirts raised, his fingers finding her undergarments, and pulling them down. Her head spun as their open mouths collided.

Having her most secret place bare to the air, and yet, still wearing her skirts left her devilish and wicked. Calloused fingers found her moist core, rubbing deliciously over her special nub. Her body jerked with each caress. His fingers sought the slick folds and delved inside.

Moaning into his mouth, she pulled his head further into the kiss. Weak knees barely held her upright. She strained toward the magic of his fingers.

More. She craved more, but was unable to do aught more than moan as they dueled with their tongues.

As if she’d spoken aloud, he broke the kiss, making eye contact with her. Ragged breathing accompanied the deep passion in the gleam of his eyes. Grabbing her by the waist, he turned her away from him to lean over the table. Tankards and cups scattered and shattered as they hit the floor, the table moving a good three inches from the force.

Anticipation and desire were riding her hard. His hand slid down the front of her blouse, his fingers kneading her breasts, pulling her backward into him, his mouth sliding along the side of her neck. He fumbled through her skirts, pushing up the folds of fabric.

He lifted her leg slightly, and she felt the smooth, silky hardness of him slide swiftly up into her passion-moistened center.

Shocked at his entry, she gripped the table for balance. A moan escaped from deep within her throat as he slid hard and solid into her. She bit her lip at such exquisite friction.

His hips undulated to create a circular, tornado of sensation as he drove in and out of her, his hand guiding her hip to increase the sensitivity. He kissed the side of her neck, nipping the skin with each sleek pump of his hips.

The building, spiraling sensation within her was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Assisting the rhythm along by moving her hips created a delicious ache that continued to build, as if she would implode at any moment.

Vision dulling, the pressure mounting. Addison groaned into her ear, deliciously tickling the sensitive skin there. He reached around her, his fingers finding that special nub, rubbing it with gentle pressure. She closed her eyes during the onslaught, and could do no more than utter, “Oh God,” and the tension exploded. Her body shattered into a million starbursts and tremors, the force of such pleasure making her cry out.

Still riding the bliss and tightening inside, Addison groaned with one last pump of his hips, and she felt his seed spilling warmth into her womb.

Moments later, one hand remained sprawled across her breasts as they panted heavily in unison, his member still firm and silky inside her. Desire stoked again.

Cold air replaced the warm spot his hand had filled upon her breast as he leaned back and away from her. Her chest heaved and her legs shook as she pulled her undergarments back into place. Given the explosive way they’d just made love in a tavern storeroom, she doubted her attempts to remain regally dignified had met its mark.

Smiling to herself, she realized this man could show her many delectable things, and she’d just tasted a small portion of it. Not wanting him to see it, however, she elegantly hoisted her breasts back into her gown and began righting the tankards and cups strewn along the floor.

“Well, that did not go the way I had planned.” He panted, his voice tinged with awe and tenderness. A slight laugh escaped him.

“I’d say not.” She could hear him arranging his own clothing behind her.

His hands rested on her shoulders as he turned her to face him. The silver eyes were now a turbulent gray, a green ring around the iris, startling her with their unique beauty.

He kissed her swollen lips without warning, and she felt herself melt into him in an instant. The passion and desire exploded throughout her body, all over again. His lips coaxed hers open, his tongue reaching out to trace her bottom lip. She felt his lips turn up into a smile.

Frustrated at how easily she had been disarmed, and knowing the sweet bliss at the end of any more dalliance with him in this storeroom, she pushed away from him. His wolf’s grin appeared.

“The next time will be in a proper place, Anne. I promise you that.”

He allowed her to stalk past him and to the door. Most likely looking a fright, and still feeling the heat suffused upon her cheeks from passion, she straightened her shoulders. How dare he presume she’d allow this to happen again?

She mustn’t.

The road to pleasure with Addison led to maddening danger. Her heart could well become entangled in those silver eyes of his. Yes, her plan
must
remain in play.

“Is that where a lady would do it, then . . . a proper place? I’m not sure I would know where that might be.”

He stiffened. She’d agitated just the right nerve, scoring a direct hit.

“Madam, we’ll never leave this room if you keep that up.” He advanced on her, his eyes narrowed. The teasing tone of his voice was but a memory.

Unlatching the door, she bolted through it . . . and a bark of laughter crowned her humiliation.