The Pirate and the Puritan (22 page)

“Like that?” he asked with a
satisfied smirk in his voice.

“No.” But another gasp and a soft
moan gave her away.

“I don’t believe you.” His voice
deepened, and she sensed he was ready for more as desperately as she.

Finally, he moved again. His rhythm
began in slow, coaxing strokes, then quickly grew harder and faster. Each
thrust compounded in urgency. He wrapped his arm underneath her knee, forcing
it back in his attempt to be deeper inside her. Her hips matched his escalating
rhythm while her arms clutched him to her. Lost to the demands of her body, she
felt as if she were being sucked down a dark tunnel. Then, without warning, all
her coiled need unfurled in spasms of pleasure so intense she had to bite down
against crying out. She stiffened and arched against him. In the end, she
couldn’t control the sigh of release torn from her throat. He thrust deep
within her and stayed, letting her battle the waves coursing through her.

When she had barely caught her
breath, he rose up on his elbows and moved again. After only a few deep
strokes, his whole body tensed. A fierce intake of breath told her he’d
succumbed to his own violent undoing. His head sagged and his face lay hidden
in the fall of his hair. She brushed back the heavy strands, wanting to see the
loss of control she’d felt. He turned his face away, but she still glimpsed the
intensity of his release in the harsh line of his jaw. Slowly, he lowered
himself on top of her. Chest to chest, she could feel his heart race
unsteadily.

He rolled to his side, pulling
her into his arms. They lay with their heads on the same pillow, face to face.
In the entirety of her life, Felicity had never felt closer to another human
being. She gazed into his eyes and saw the depths of his soul. And for once,
she kept hers open as well, letting him see all there was to see. Unlike her
first foray into intimacy, the aftermath of this encounter would be worth the
all-encompassing peace she felt at that very moment. If she didn’t know better,
she might call it love.

***

It took all Drew’s strength to
pull his drenched skin away from Felicity’s warmth. The full moon peered from
its vantage point high in the sky, shone through the porthole, revealing it was
well after midnight. Drew hadn’t left the cabin since walking in to deliver the
news that he was sure would drive Felicity away from him forever. As usual, she
had surprised him.

He moved a tangle of her hair to
kiss her pale, moon-bathed shoulder. Her dress remained twisted around her
waist. He suddenly realized he still wore his boots, and his breeches were
shoved below his knees. Next time, he’d undress her and kiss every inch of her,
including the sweet fruit hidden by those lush nether curls that matched the
ones gripped in his fist. He wondered if she’d balk at the idea. He nuzzled her
ear with a grin. Probably not. Her passion matched his own.

He eased off the bed and
straightened his breeches. After he rummaged in the wardrobe on the far wall
for a clean shirt, he paused to gawk at Felicity. She burrowed deeper into the
soft bed. After a second round of lovemaking, she was undoubtedly exhausted.
She probably wouldn’t awaken till noon.

A quick stab of sensation brought
back the moment he’d first pushed into her tight body, and it had him aroused
all over again. He closed his eyes and pictured the second time, the way they
had laid on their sides, face to face. Still slick with sweat, they’d started
exploring each other. Not passionate at first, just testing the new boundaries
of their intimacy. Drew touched the tip of her nose, the fleshy part of her
earlobe, and then grazed the swell on the underside of her breast. In return,
she’d traced his lips with her fingertip, then, coaxed by his tongue, stuck her
finger into his mouth. He’d sucked the digit until she threw her leg over his
hip and let him slide into her, each of them grasping and rocking, wrenching
all the ecstasy they could from each other.

He shook his head to clear the
vision. He had prisoners in the hold, he reminded himself sternly. Prisoners
who knew who he was. His father had not only betrayed him but also assumed he
was a cold-blooded murderer. Ben was in jail. Drew stopped his hasty lacing of
his shirt. Ben would not be pleased with Drew’s behavior this evening. That
damn guilt started tightening his chest again.

He bent over to tuck his breeches
into his boots. Blood finally rushed to his head, the smart one. The
ramifications of what he’d just done pushed themselves through the satisfied
haze of quenched lust. He glanced at Felicity, making sure she hadn’t
disappeared. She looked like a cat who’d just gotten cream for the first time.
Even in her sleep she grinned.

Her happiness did little to ease
a swift stab of regret, though. Surely, she wasn’t in love with him. She had
hated him up until... He wasn’t exactly sure when their relationship
shifted—but it had. They understood each other. Felicity was a grown woman, not
a girl. She knew what happened between them had nothing to do with deeper
feelings. His desperate need to convince himself sounded weak in his own ears.
How would it sound to her?

If he was honest with himself, he
would admit he’d wanted to seduce her the night of the Linleys’ party. Better
than usual, his conscience had put up the pretense of a struggle, but it knew
it always fell back before his desire. Unfortunately, there were a gaggle of
other emotions besides lust attached to his relationship with Felicity.
Emotions he couldn’t afford to think about. Not at the moment

Felicity’s unexpected reaction to
his advances hadn’t helped him do the right thing, either. At least she hadn’t
been a virgin. He wouldn’t have her deflowering to add to his list of crimes.

He stilled at the realization. As
silently as a creature of the night, he strode to the bed to gaze down into her
face.

Her innocent features didn’t give
him any answers to the thousand questions crowding his mind. As curious as he
was, he’d honored her request not to be interrogated. But that was in the heat
of the moment. Now that his head had cleared, he’d like a few explanations. Not
that he minded her lack of chastity. In fact, it was a trait he cheered the
abandonment of in the fairer sex. Nothing in her manner, however—in bed or
out—spoke of a string of lovers. Her raw passion held no hint of artifice or
experience. The man who had gotten to her before him had undoubtedly meant
something to Miss Kendall.

It seemed Felicity had a few
secrets of her own, and as much as the knowledge should have brought him
relief, it unexpectedly made Drew see green.

The cabin door banged open and
interrupted Felicity’s passionate embrace of Drew’s pillow. Her gaze jerked up
to find Hugh skipping into the cabin. Solomon followed, his hands occupied with
a tray. Warmth spread to Felicity’s cheeks. She loosened her grip on the pillow
she held to her face and pretended to fluff it.

Hugh regarded her quizzically,
while Solomon avoided eye contact altogether.

“Why were you smelling that
pillow?” asked Hugh in a combination of innocence and accusation that could
only be believable in a child.

“Don’t be silly. I was only
making the bed.” She glanced at the rumpled sheets and wished she had concocted
something else to cover her shameful fondling of Drew’s pillow.

When she’d awoken to late morning
sun pushing through the portholes, Drew had disappeared and their night
together seemed no more than a dream. Yet the satisfied ache in her muscles,
along with the heady fragrance of their erotic encounter, assured her every
whispered word and frantic caress had been real. His scent on the pillow had rekindled
the details and made her heart pound.

Hugh tried to yank the pillow she
clutched to her chest away from her. “I’ll help you make the bed.”

She held the damning evidence
above her head while she blocked his advance and his view. “That won’t be necessary,
Hugh. My, what a feast you brought. Why don’t you help your father set the
table?”

Hugh followed her suggestion
without the slightest hint he noticed her discomposure. Solomon’s stiff
movements as he banged the silver dishes told her any attempt to keep him from
noticing the enormous four-poster bed’s tangled bedclothes would be in vain.

“My apologies for startling you.
The captain thought you might be sleeping and didn’t wish you disturbed when I
left your breakfast.”

She forced herself to look serene,
if not innocent, when she strode toward the table. Her swollen lips and
stubble-burned cheeks prevented any hope of that. “So much food and such
elegant serving dishes. Do you two plan to join me?”

“Miss Kendall, I must say, in our
short acquaintance, I’ve never seen you so cheerful.” Solomon’s dry tone
deflated her smile. “Sleep well, did you?”

Hugh interrupted, saving her from
choking out an answer. “I already ate. We stole those dishes. I helped. Will
you teach me some more writing?” Hugh turned to his father, holding a tattered
piece of parchment in his out-stretched hand. “Look at what I wrote, Papa.”

Solomon pulled his attention away
from the stiff performance of his duties to glance at the paper his son waved
in his face. Felicity swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand straighter
Obviously Solomon suspected what went on last night and didn’t approve. She
shouldn’t be surprised by his censure, nor should she expect to escape the
consequences of her indiscretion. Try as she might, she didn’t care. Her body
still tingled from Drew’s thorough attentions. A real smile crept to her face.

Solomon scanned his son’s work.
His gaze met Felicity’s over the sheet of paper. He was not smiling, but the
cool look of judgment had left his dark eyes. “Thank you for teaching Hugh. I
would be grateful if you’d continue. Perhaps—that’s if you don’t mind—I could
join in on the lessons?”

She felt her smile widen until
her cheeks hurt. Solomon’s minor concession might well be the keys to a
kingdom. Everything seemed so much more wonderful today. “I would love to.
You’re welcome to watch, but you’ve no need to worry over my capabilities as a
teacher. My education exceeds that of most women, or men, for that matter.

Solomon continued picking up the
dishes left from dinner two days past. “You didn’t even get a proper meal
yesterday. The captain put me in charge of feeding you and I’ve been
neglectful. I made a tray for you last night, but—”

She interrupted before he went
any further. “I understand, Solomon. No need for apologies.” After draping her
rose-colored skirts over the cushioned seat, she lifted the silver cover from a
plate steaming with poached eggs. Hunger pangs thudded against her ribs.

“I’m famished. Thank you both for
the feast.”

Solomon relaxed visibly. “Those
are real chicken eggs. Drew said to give you the best we had. There’s bread and
smoked fish as well.”

“Thank you,” Felicity said
through a mouth full of food. Usually she had better manners, but she seemed to
be doing many things out of character these days. “Please sit. I’ll begin
Hugh’s lesson as soon as I’ve finished eating.”

Hugh plopped down in the seat
next to her. “Can I have another piece of paper? I want to draw an octopus.
I’ve seen one before. Have you? The one I saw was dead and smelled like—”

“Hugh, let Miss Kendall finish
her breakfast.” Solomon picked up the tray laden with dirty dishes. “I have
some duties to attend to first, but please start the lesson without me. I’ll
have to catch up anyway.”

She stopped devouring the eggs
long enough to answer. “You haven’t missed much. I just went through the
basics.” Solomon squared his already broad shoulders. The tension she noticed
before returned. “I don’t know the basics, Miss Kendall. I was hoping you could
teach me with Hugh.”

She tried to blink away her
surprise, sure she’d misunderstood. “But you’re the quartermaster. Doesn’t that
involve keeping records?”

“I have my own system that serves
me quite well.” His words were delivered with such finality, she fully expected
him to stalk from the cabin. Instead, he stayed where he was. “Still, I’d like
to learn to read and write properly.” She felt like a fool. A runaway slave
wouldn’t have had much opportunity to learn to read and write. Obviously, his
request had come at great personal cost. Solomon wore his pride like a shield.
“Of course. It would encourage Hugh if you participated in his lessons.”

Solomon nodded, then turned to
leave.

“Solomon,” she called out. “Hurry
back. I don’t know how much time we have before we reach Barbados, but we’ll
need every moment to get you two reading and writing.”

He paused at the door. “We’re not
going to Barbados. To the best of my knowledge, we don’t have a specific
destination. We should have all the time we need.”

“What?” She slowly lowered her
forkful of food.

“Is something wrong, Miss
Kendall?”

“I thought... It’s just that I
thought...” She wondered if the chill settling around her heart showed in her
eyes. The hint of Drew’s possible betrayal pricked like a thorn. She hid the
unexpected slice of pain behind a rush of bravado. “I assumed taking me home
was the captain’s first order of business. I’m sure he’s as eager to have me
out of his hair as you are.”

Solomon’s raised eyebrows
signaled his skepticism. “We both know that’s not true. At least the part about
the captain wanting to be rid of you.”

Drew might want her, but had he
lied to obtain her? Her rediscovery of her buried sexuality had been
all-consuming. It hadn’t occurred to her that Drew might deceive her just to
make use of her body. Of course, she knew their liaison was purely physical.
Unlike with Erik, whom she’d thought loved her and would marry her, she
expected no such promises from Drew. Knowing this she assumed would protect her
from the devastation of being rejected. Suddenly she realized there where far
worse things than a broken heart. Instead of just gambling with her own future,
had she gambled with her father’s as well?