She drew in her breath. She did. Oh, God, she did. She looked down at his lips as she ran her hand over his muscular chest and then moved it lower. She heard him inhale sharply and was even leaning closer to him when the three raps sounded at the door, warning her she had about thirty seconds to get her composure back.
She toweled herself quickly, slipped her shirt back on, and practically ran out of there. And that would be the last time she attempted anything so foolish. While it had accomplished what she’d hoped, to wildly inflame him, she just couldn’t get that close to him, touch him like that, without having that same spark burn her.
She dreamed about him often, nearly every night. She wasn’t even surprised that she did, since he filled so many of her thoughts during the day. But none of those dreams were as arousing as the one she was having tonight.
They were lying in bed, in the narrow bed in her cabin. He uttered the phrase, “Time to get naked, wench,” and she felt like laughing because it was just a dream and she could do anything she liked in a dream. But it was a potent dream. He was lying on top of her and kissing her. He pulled her nightgown off. She thought he might be naked as well because she felt such heat and such pleasurable new sensations between her thighs with him lying on top of her, but she wasn’t going to open her eyes to check. She was afraid she might wake up if she did.
She didn’t want to wake up, not yet. Before she did, she wanted to learn as much about his lovemaking as he’d teach her, which was silly, because she couldn’t dream about something she didn’t already know. So it must be her wishing that made him so tender when he caressed her, running his hands up and down her body. And she did have full knowledge of his kiss. It was the same in her dream as she remembered it, the heady taste of him, his tongue thrusting boldly into her mouth in a most passionate manner.
She must have forgotten some of the things he’d promised to do to her, because not all of his actions now matched his taunts. She was naked already; he hadn’t slowly removed her clothes as he’d said he would do. He’d said she would kiss him back, though, and she was. He’d said she wouldn’t be able to help herself and she didn’t even want to try. He’d said she would hold him tight, even cling to him, tight enough to feel his desire pressing against her, and oh my, yes, that part had been incorporated into her dream.
But there was so much more than what she remembered from his taunts, because her dream was letting him kiss and touch her everywhere, along her neck, over her shoulders—her breasts. His mouth devoted a great deal of time to that responsive area of her chest, finding out everything he’d said he wanted to know about her breasts. She never could have imagined how scorching his lips would feel, though, or the thrilling excitement that raced through her entire body. He’d said he was going to drive her mad with desire and it was quite possible that he was. No, that was supposed to be while he removed her clothes—oh, the order didn’t matter! She was enjoying herself too much to mind that she wasn’t getting it right, everything he’d said he would do to her.
He licked at her nipples. They’d tingled before just from his words and they did again. He licked at her belly button. He licked between her legs. Oh my God, so much pleasure. He really was going to drive her mad—no, wait, where the deuce did that come from? Her knowledge of lovemaking was broad, but it didn’t include that!
She started to wake up, to struggle out of the dream, but then he was kissing her mouth again, soothing her confusion. And she remembered, it was just a dream, just a dream. He was chained in another room, he couldn’t possibly be here in her bed with her.
That thought went straightaway when the pain arrived. So did all semblance of sleep and nice dreams. She was staring up at Drew Anderson in the soft glow of lantern light and realizing that he’d done it again.
He’d ruined her, literally this time. She couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to escape, but he was definitely in her bed, lying on top of her, both of them buck naked, and he’d just stolen her virginity.
“My God, what have you done?” she said as she pushed against him. “How did you—”
“Shh, I just want to pleasure you.”
His words were a catalyst. She felt them stir her even in the midst of her panic. “You’ve won!” she cried. “You’ve won everything, your ship back and me in bed with you!”
“No, sweetheart, I promise you’ll win, too. Remember how you aroused me during the bath this morning? Now it’s my turn to do the same thing to you, but I will finish what I start, and you won’t be disappointed. Let me show you. Just let me love you.”
But there was no humor in his expression, no gloating because he’d won. In fact, she couldn’t read it at all, so she had no warning that he was about to kiss her again.
He’d been treating her carefully, not wanting her to wake too soon, but now that she was awake, he released all the passion that she’d stoked to life during the week. She thought she’d failed to arouse him. Apparently not.
That kiss got past the shock of what was happening, and coupled with his words, it stoked her own fires back to life with amazing swiftness. Such scorching heat, his mouth locked on hers, his tongue ravishing inside it, one hand behind her head holding her there, not letting her escape any part of that kiss. And now she didn’t want to escape.
Her arms went around his neck. He’d slipped his other hand between them to tightly squeeze her breast, knead it. And she could still feel him below, between her legs, thickly filling her, but unmoving, cautiously waiting. Yet the knowledge of what was there, what felt so good inside her, sent out a wave of pleasure, that uncontrollable flood of sensation deep in her belly that he so often stirred.
She pressed up against him, pulling him in deeper. That felt so nice she did it again, and again. And oh, God, it was suddenly too much sensation coalescing inside her all at once. The explosion of pleasure was beyond anything she could have imagined and it continued blissfully as he did some thrusting of his own, then, incredulously, built and exploded around her again just as he reached his own climax.
He was still after that. Gabrielle didn’t think she could have moved a single muscle herself. She was so drained, so replete, so wonderfully content. She’d wonder why later. But now the only thing she was capable of was sleep.
Chapter 33
G ABRIELLE HAD NO IDEA HOW LONG DREW HAD LET HER SLEEP. It was still dark outside the single porthole the cabin contained, so the sky gave her no indication. And actually, he didn’t wake her at all, at least it didn’t appear so. He was sitting at the little table that could squeeze in four for a meal, but more comfortably sat two.
The chair he was using was turned toward the bed, so he’d probably been watching her at some point. Right now he was staring in the vicinity of his feet, which were crossed and stretched out before him. He looked deep in thought. His expression wasn’t guarded: he was frowning.
She’d barely moved, just turned her head enough to locate him in the room. She was quite sure he didn’t even know she was awake, which suited her just fine for the moment. She still had no idea how he’d gotten loose from his chain. Someone had to have helped him, but who, when his own crew were secured? It had to have been one of the new men that Ohr had signed on in London. Maybe one of them had known Drew or one of his crew and had just bided his time to help them escape. And if he was loose, then his men probably were, too, and that meant her men were…
God, she was afraid to even guess what the Americans had done to reclaim their ship. They wouldn’t have been warned as her crew had been, to make sure no one was hurt. They’d have no reason to go easy on “pirates.” Just the opposite, especially after spending a week incarcerated. Ohr? Richard? Were they even still alive?
Then a new thought snuck up on her that was just as disturbing, but in a different way. What had occurred in that bed. She could even still smell him there, the scent of him surrounding her, reminding her of her fall from grace. What an absolute fool she’d been to even think that could have been a dream. Well
, she’d known it wasn’t a dream after his first few kisses and caresses, so she didn’t even have that as an excuse. Not that there could be any excuse, no matter the reason, to absolve her from the simple fact that she’d wanted it to happen.
She thrust those thoughts aside as well. She had to turn this situation back around to her favor. Her father’s release, maybe even his life, depended on it, not to mention she was going to end up in a dungeon herself if Drew had his way. And while he was distracted with his own thoughts, she had the perfect opportunity.
She didn’t even need to form a plan. She still had Drew’s pistol tucked away in one of her bags. She just had to get to it before he could stop her.
She shot out of bed and leapt toward her bags. She opened the right one and bent over to rummage through it.
He didn’t yank her away from it. He didn’t even move. “Looking for this?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, saw the pistol in his hand, pointing toward the ceiling. He must have searched the room for it while she was sleeping or, more likely, before he even came near her bed. He wouldn’t want to take any chances now that he was free.
Immensely disappointed that the only easy way to regain control was gone, she straightened and slowly turned around to face him. Only then did she realize that she was standing there naked. His eyes dropped immediately to her breasts and stayed there.
She didn’t panic or expire of shame, it was too bloody late for that. She did reach behind her, pulled a robe from the wardrobe, and slipped it on, denying him the view he seemed to be enjoying so much. He sighed to show his disappointment, but she didn’t buy it. It sounded too exaggerated.
Belting the robe, she spat just a single word at him. “How?”
She didn’t need to elaborate, he knew exactly what she was asking. And now he was grinning. God, he was so pleased with himself, the blighter. It was enough to turn her stomach.
“An excellent question,” he replied. “I’d even tried it myself, but with no luck.”
“What?”
“I’m getting to that,” he said, and continued to take his sweet time about it. “You see, there’s a little something you didn’t know about my first mate. Timothy has a very real problem with confined spaces. We spent the night in jail once after he’d nearly demolished a tavern and he actually bent the bars, trying to get out. If you must know, I’m surprised he lasted this long.”
“You’re saying he actually got out of that iron shackle we put on his ankle?”
“No, he’s still wearing it as far as I know, it’s just no longer attached to anything that hinders his movements. He waited for your crew to get lax with the assumption that no other trouble would occur, before he yanked his chain off the wall and easily removed the wood that boarded up the hole he’d previously made in his wall.”
“What have you done with my crew?”
The grin remaining prominent on his lips, he said, “What do you think?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking,” she snarled.
He chuckled, still immensely enjoying their changed circumstances. “Your men were safely tucked away in those pleasant accomodations you supplied for my crew. And then I came straight here to take care of you.”
And he’d certainly done that. They both grew quiet and thought about what they’d done in this room last night. What a fool she’d been to believe his sweet, seductive words! But she wanted so badly to know what his lovemaking would be like.
His amusement immediately departed, he asked hesitantly, “I don’t suppose it’s your time of the month?”
She glared at him. She’d seen the smeared blood on her thighs, too, before she’d closed the robe. “No, it isn’t.”
“If I had thought, for even a minute,” he said, his tone quite sober now, “that you were a virgin, that wouldn’t have happened.”
She found that doubtful, considering what a scoundrel he was, but she merely said, “And why did you take it for granted that I wasn’t a virgin?”
“Because you’re a damned pirate.”
She couldn’t find fault with his logic, when that’s what she had wanted him to think, but her tone was still bitter when she replied, “Ruined one way or the other, there’s not much difference as I see it.”
She was talking about the scandal he’d left behind for her in England, as well as what had occurred between them last night. But she had a feeling he didn’t realize that, that he had only the one thing on his mind when he rejoined, “I’ll make that up to you.”
“How can you? It’s not something you can just give back, you bastard.”
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “But my amends would be to not have you tossed in jail with the rest of your crew when we make port.”
Was that actual guilt she was hearing in his voice? If it was, then she had an edge and needed to try to use it.
“That isn’t going to do me much good when I still have to rescue my father.”
He slanted a single brow upward. “You’d rather go to jail as well?”
“Of course not, but I can’t get my father out of that dungeon by myself. I’ll need help.”
“So that tale you spun about him was true?”
She sighed. Had he really thought she’d lied just for an excuse to take his ship? Dense man, pirates didn’t need excuses.
“Of course it’s true, and it’s a bloody fortress he’s being kept in. And the ransom Pierre is demanding is more than I’m willing to pay.”
“You don’t have the money? I thought you came into an inheritance.”
“If that was the demand there would be no problem, but that isn’t what Pierre wants. He’s asked for my father’s maps, and I have to be the one who delivers them.”
“So what you’re saying is you’re too selfish to give up some old maps for your father’s life?”
She gasped. To go by his expression, he seemed to regret having said it. But he’d said it, revealing his real opinion of her, and despite the fact that she despised him as well, it still cut her deeply.
“I didn’t really mean that,” he amended.
“No, you’re right. Pierre will kill my father, but he won’t kill me, so in a way I am being selfish by not giving him what he wants.”
“Do you even have the maps?”
She waved her hand impatiently. “They aren’t important, they’re merely his excuse. This isn’t the first time he’s tried to get his hands on me.”
Drew sat forward. “Wait a minute, you’re saying you are the ransom?”
“Did I forget to mention that?”
He reacted to her sarcastic tone by sitting back again and crossing his arms over his chest. Then he shrugged to show he couldn’t care less. “If it’s not a position you want to be in, I’m sure you’ll figure a way out of it. You pirates are nothing if not resourceful.”
She remembered his brief moment of guilt and said, “You could help me.”
He actually burst out laughing. “Nice try, wench, but not a chance.”
“Your brother-in-law, James, would have,” she pointed out stiffly.
“Then you should have asked him.”
She gritted her teeth. “You could at least leave me my crew.”
“Forget it. I warned you what would happen when you stole my ship. And there’s only one reason you’re not going to jail with the rest of them. I’d keep that in mind because it’s a decision that can be reversed very easily. So I’d drop it if I were you.”
He wasn’t going to give any ground, obviously, and she wasn’t about to plead with him, so she started walking back to her bed. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now and let me get some sleep,” she said frostily.
He laughed again, but this time there was too much male satisfaction in it, which was all the warning she needed to know she wouldn’t like what he was going to say next. For once, she wished she was wrong.
“There’s no lock on the door of this cabin, but you’ll be glad to know I’m going to gi
ve you the same courtesy you gave me, wench. Shall we?”
He’d stood up and was holding his arm out to indicate the door. She marched stiffly toward it, but stopped when she realized she was wearing only the robe and nothing under it. While it might not make any difference to him, she’d rather not finish the voyage half dressed. Nor was she going to count on his supplying her with a change of clothes, so she went back to the wardrobe and stuffed some of her garments into her carpetbag before she headed to her new prison.
Chapter 34
“S AME COURTESY” REALLY HAD BEEN THE KEY PHRASE. Gabrielle had actually assumed she’d be put in the hold with her crew, but that’s not what she’d done with Drew, and he was giving her back tit for tat exactly, including the same area of his cabin that he’d occupied—and the shackle.
He put the damn thing on her himself and seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in doing so. Unlike Timothy’s chain, Drew’s was still firmly attached to the wall. It had been removed from him normally, the tools that had opened it still lying there on the floor. So it was in good if rusty shape, for her use.
But Drew didn’t need to use the tools. He pulled a padlock out of his pocket that he must have found before he went looking for her, proving that this had been what he intended for her before he even entered her cabin. Had he intended the lovemaking, too, or had that, at least, been spontaneous? She wasn’t going to ask.
She tried to ignore his fingers touching her leg as he fastened the cold metal around her bare ankle, but like everything else that had occured tonight, she had no luck with that either. She watched him, though, with a mixture of rage and bruised feelings. There was a tightness in her chest, but she couldn’t imagine what was causing it. Indigestion, she hoped.
He glanced up to smile at her when he was done. She glared back at him. He chuckled softly and moved over to his bed. He removed only his boots and shirt to sleep, stretched widely with his arms, then almost dove at the soft mattress. It was a wonder the bed didn’t break with that much weight falling on it. Turning over on his back, he crossed his arms behind his head. His sigh of pleasure filled the entire room.