Taste of the Devil (28 page)

The man then rolled over onto his back and laced his hands behind his head. Ginny shrugged, too tired to get much dander up about it at this point. She was sleepy, and the ship was a floating Bedlam.

But that did not mean she shouldn’t put the time to good use. Tyler might be more amenable to giving her information when he was in his cups. "That man that came aboard..." She coyly asked, "The pirate Lord?"

Tyler was instantly sober. "Yes, what of him?"

"Is he truly the infamous Lion?"

"Yes." Cautiously.

"He, um, well, he seems rather sad inside."

Tyler was not surprised that Ginny had instantly seen what Julian always tried so hard to hide. She was becoming very intuitive. He wondered how formidable she would be in a few years time when she had more seasoning.

Very formidable, he decided. And he rather liked that idea. He smiled to himself as he anticipated the future rows coming his ways.

"Not many would see him that way, just ask those who have come up against him."

"Well, he is roguishly charming, of course, and I am sure by his reputation alone, quite fearsome, but there is definitely something more there... He seems very different from most men... Is that why you have befriended him?"

She really was very sharp. "Aye, Ginny."

Silence for several moments.

"Do you trust him?"

Unhesitatingly, "With my life."

Ginny knew then that the Lion would never help her get away from Tyler's ship unless he thought it was in Tyler's best interest. Her plan would need to be revised. "What made him become a pirate? Do you know?"

"I don't know the whole of it, but I know enough.

All I will tell you is that he was once a very powerful man, with lands and wealth beyond compare. A decent, good man. It was all taken from him in a single night when men with certain agendas conspired against him, men whose connections ran so deep that he found all was lost to him before he even had a chance to defend what was his. From that point on, he became a renegade."

Ginny sucked in her breath at the riveting tale.

"You mean he is actually a real lord? I-I thought that was simply an affectation like a lord of the pirates or something."

"Most think that, but truth is sometimes stranger and often crueler than tales. He was stripped of his titles."

She bit her lip. "Perhaps that is the source of his sadness."

Tyler rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "I think it was more than that, but I don't wish to–"

"A lost love?" she ventured boldly.

The corners of the pirate’s lips twitched. "Ah, you wish to make him a tragic romantic figure. Why do women do that?"

Ginny huffed. "Well, is he?"

Tyler shrugged. "Not for me to say."

She wanted to hit him with her pillow. "Will he ever go back to England, do you think?"

"I doubt it, because if he does, he will most likely be shot on sight– or hung."

For some reason, Ginny felt great compassion for the Lion. Discretely, she glanced over at her 'husband'.

He seemed deep in thought as he stared at the ceiling, hands laced behind his head. The moonlight that bathed the cabin was ample enough to discern his features. His classically drawn face gave no hint of what he was actually thinking.

It dawned on her that Lord Devon was a beautiful enigma.

He had told her about the Lion, but what made him take to the seas to live a double life as pirate? Since she had discovered his other identity, the questions would not let her be.

What was he holding within himself that would cause him to take these kinds of risks?

Maybe the man just liked the peril?

Not everyone had hidden motives.

After all, he was also a libertine and a bounder; he fought more duels for his boudoir behavior than any man she had ever heard of. Perhaps he was just a simple thrill-seeker who thrived on rebelliousness?

Yet, she had seen glimpses of a different man.

After they had married, for instance.

Those weeks, when they had spent a lot of time together, he had seemed genuinely happy. They ate together, danced together, spoke of favorite books together...

She had rather liked him.

Perhaps she still liked him. A bit.

She just wasn't sure.

But. The times when he had made love to her there was something else there. Something that, well, something that made her hug him tighter. Something that made her lose control when he took them on that utterly strange yet thrilling ride.

Could she be developing feelings for him of a deeper nature?

Ridiculous.

She could laugh at herself.

Sneaking another peek at him, she noted that she did take pleasure in his handsome profile. All of a sudden, she rather wanted him. But to what end?

Perhaps she would even miss him when she left his ship?

An image came unbidden to her mind of the gentle way he had coaxed her into passion that first time, despite his anger. He had lovingly suckled her lower lip and nibbled along her throat afterward...

A low throbbing began between her legs.

The man infuriated her, and here she was remembering his passionate caresses! And she wasn't even close to forgiving him for his subterfuge.

He forgave you. An inner voice whispered.

Yes, well that was different. Hers was just a mild lark compared to this! The man was a bleeding, notorious pirate with a price on his head. Just a tad steeper on the subterfuge scale.

The moon came out from behind a passing cloud and silvery rays streaked across the bunk, lighting the room further.

Her heart suddenly kicked in her chest as she watched his eyes flutter shut. He was so...

Tyler.

She had never met anyone like him. So was that good or bad?

“You are a pirate.” Her soft statement fell like an anchor between them. He heard her but did not open his eyes.

“Aye, so what of it?”

The question sounded more a proud statement.

“Your life as Lord Devon is a lie.”

“It would seem so, madam.”

“Then you- did you not actually sleep with all those women of the ton?”

One black brow arched as if to say surely you are jesting?

Ginny colored. “So you are a wastrel to boot!

What a prize I’ve shackled myself to.”

He chuckled, a low rasp of agreement. “If it makes you feel any better, madam, I have given up all the others and am now concentrating solely on you.”

She waved her hand in the air. “Don’t put yourself out on my account.”

Strangely, he felt instantly contrite. He opened his eyes and turned towards her. “I mean it, Ginny. There has been no one since you.”

“You don’t have to tell me pretty lies, sir, we are obviously no longer in proper society.”

“I have no need to tell tales, my lady. If I swived someone, I would say it plain. ‘Tis my nature, ask anyone.”

She stared into his deep eyes. The sensual, silvery waterfalls... so easy to drown in... He seemed to be telling the truth. So, he had remained loyal to her. But why? And for how long?

He read the doubts on her face. “I will keep to our vows as long as you promise to be my wife.”

“Is that the word of a pirate or a lord?”

“You will find that a pirate’s word is often truer.

There is a code amongst thieves, after all. I would not put as much stock in the word of some lords.”

“Lord Henry is an honorable man.”

He exhaled. “On this topic, he is an exception to the majority.”

“On every topic, actually,” Ginny admitted. “Henley is rather exceptional.” She bit her lip. “I think you should always give your word as a pirate and a lord, Tyler.”

“And why is that?”

“With your reputation you probably need the extra insurance.”

He tapped his index finger against the side of his forehead. “Tell me again– who is the pirate here?”

Chuckling, he rolled over onto his side to wrap her in his arms.

The warm embrace, so secure, so comforting made Ginny wonder if there might be some good to come of this after all. He had given encouragement to her earlier epiphany... In a way.

Tyler pulled her closer to him in his sleep.

Protective and proprietary.

Husband and pirate.

One trait irked, and the other soothed.

With just her head poking out from inside his safe embrace, she went over her plan until his lids fell shut again.

The rum must have made him slow.

She had not promised a thing.

* * *

His eyelids slowly opened.

There was a knife at his throat.

His wife was sitting atop him on bent knees.

Tyler stared, unblinking. Silent. And focused.

In that moment, Ginny could easily see the utter ruthlessness in him. He looked quite deadly.

He remained perfectly still, waiting for her to make her move. So she did.

"Hear me well, pirate husband. You will no longer tell me what I can and cannot wear. I shall do as I please, if it pleases me." She nicked his throat slightly. A bead of blood bubbled up. "Do I make myself clear?" she parroted him.

Another man's eyes might have widened in consternation or even fear. He regarded her evenly, not moving a muscle.

"Do I make myself clear?" She repeated, pressing the knife deeper. Ginny had no intention of actually hurting him, but he needed to know she meant what she was saying.

"I think the metaphor of the blade at my throat makes the premise translucent, my sweet," he drawled.

"I have your agreement then?" Her hand stayed on the hilt of the knife.

His eyes glanced over her set features. "You do." He stretched his legs beneath her. "However–"

The only warning she received was the instantaneous flash in his eyes before she was handily flipped over on the bed. Now he was looking down on her.

Her hand still held the knife to his throat.

He hadn't even bothered to remove it from his artery! Nothing could have spoken so loudly as to how dangerous he was. Not even a knife at his throat concerned him unduly.

There was no doubt left that the real weapon was him.

He bent his head toward her, intentionally pressing the knife deeper. A trickle of blood skittered down his neck. His long silken hair, freed from its normal confines, blanketed around her.

The smoky, silvery blue eyes stared deeply into her own. "Never forget who captains her."

With a somewhat shaky nod, she agreed to the marauder’s terms.

He brushed his velvety-warm lips against hers in a brief seal of this new bargain between them. The sweetness of his mouth lingered long after it had been branded upon her.

It was a heady taste of the devil.

* * *

He woke her before dawn with the heated press of his lips. His sensual moan in the darkened cabin almost undid her.

His desire tumbled over her with the fall of her name on his lips.

In that cabin, in that snug bunk, there were a few seconds of intense stillness as Tyler waited and Ginny expected.

He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. And in that moment...

In that moment.

Ginny simply grabbed him. Wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. His moan of pleasure was cut off as her mouth feverishly covered his. Her tongue wrapped wildly around his as the press of their kiss intensified.

Locking him to her, she wrapped her legs tightly around his muscular thighs and buried her hands in his thick hair. It was as if she suddenly could not get enough of that untamed flavor of him; she nipped slightly at his lower lip and tugged sharply at the hair clutched between her fingers.

A low rumble issued from his chest at the saucy gesture; the pirate in him liked it. He arched his neck back into the tugging and watched her from beneath lowered lids. Even in the dim light, those half-closed blue eyes glittered with pure lust. The powerful arms that had wrapped around her back slid under her waist and lifted her to him. Palms kneading her buttocks, he ground his hips against her letting her feel his taut, burgeoning member.

Letting her know just how much her actions excited him.

Ginny felt as if a thick elixir had replaced her blood.

The sluggish, pulsing flow of desire coursed through her veins and became a raging fire. She wanted this man to do everything he had to her in the past– and then some.

She wanted him to–

Nay.

She did not want him to do those things to her.

She wanted to do them to him.

She wanted him to feel the same blood-pounding in his veins; the same breathless gasping for air; the heart-stopping exquisite torture of captured desire.

The unendurable thrill of begging begging begging for release!

Her desire dripped between her legs, dampening the fabric of her nightrail. Impatiently, she pulled it over her head with one hand and tossed it across the cabin. Tyler took the opportunity to burrow his head onto the curve of her neck and bite her shoulder. Without thinking she reacted to the rogue by smartly slapping his bare buttock.

A raspy chuckle teased her ear. Sliding his long leg between hers, he quickly rolled with her across the bunk coming to a stop near the wall. She was lying atop him.

He grinned up at her, flashing white teeth and dimples. "Show me the true cut of your jib," he dared her.

Ginny bit the edge of her lip as she looked down at him. Her long chestnut hair blanketed them both as she sat atop her perch, hugging the man's lean hips with her knees. The enticing scent of him, somehow always reminding her of coconuts and spiced rum, of exotic locales she had only read about, filled her senses as if he were the embodiment of those faraway places and the lure of every adventure she had ever dreamed.

Splaying her hands over the golden skin, she raked her nails down his chest to just above his hipbones.

Calmly, he cocked his head to the side. His laidback pose was not fooling her; she had felt his tremor at the light scratch of her fingertips. Already slick from her juices, his manhood stretched and jutted beneath her. She wriggled her hips and ground into him. The motion caused her to close her own eyes for a moment.