She shivered at his touch and stepped back, away from his touch.
“Trapped on a ship with me for life, a fate worse than death,” he said drily.
“Do not pretend I have offended you. You don’t want me here anymore than I want to be here.”
His head tilted, as though considering what she’d said. “I don’t know. You’ve made the voyage much more...interesting. My men are falling over themselves to catch your eye. My officers are distracted, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before a rumor that having a female on board is bad luck.”
“I’ve tried to stay out of the way,” she said.
“Even if you didn’t have the face of an angel, do you think the men would easily forget a woman is on board?”
“The face of an angel?” she murmured not hearing anything he said after that. “Is that what you said?”
He let out a breath in something of a snort. “Do not pretend you don’t know how beautiful you are.”
“I didn’t realize you thought I was beautiful.”
“Beautiful, strong, impulsive.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. Suddenly, she couldn’t quite force air into her lungs. “Resourceful, clever, brave, alluring.”
“Alluring?” she whispered. Nick moved closer, and she felt his hand caress her arm. Heat of a different sort from that in the room penetrated where he touched, swirling through her until she felt almost dizzy.
“Bewitching,” he whispered, and his lips were so close to hers she knew even the tiniest movement would bring them together. He was charming her. She remembered this rogue from London. She shouldn’t allow herself to be charmed, but she could not seem to resist because he was more than the rogue now. He was the captain and the man who had protected her, who had claimed her. She wanted him to claim her again, to remind her what pleasure was. She wanted to forget that she was stranded on a cramped ship in this never-ending ocean and suffocating in the oppressive heat.
She closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. She felt as though a fire raged within her, but his lips were cool and inviting. He didn’t take her into his arms, as she’d expected. Instead, he allowed her to explore his mouth with her tentative lips. She’d kissed him before. She’d kissed many men, but she felt suddenly shy, suddenly inexperienced.
She brushed his lips with hers once then twice then traced his upper lip with her tongue. When she moved to his lower lip, she nipped it gently and he moaned softly. Searing heat rushed through her, emboldening her, and she dipped her tongue inside his mouth. His tongue met hers, stroking her as his arms wrapped around her, and he finally pulled her against him.
She sighed, feeling his hard body against hers, and lifted her hands to fist in his hair, that lovely dark, dark hair she’d watched whipping in the breeze. He wore it in a short queue, and she released it, allowing the thong to drop to the floor as well. She was still leading the kiss, but she felt a subtle change in him. He was barely restraining himself. She was desperate to touch all of him before he took her, leaving her breathless and her mind too muddled with passion to think. She traced his cheek, his strong jaw, scraped her short nails down his neck until she reached the vee of his linen shirt.
“No cravat today?” she whispered.
“I think we both know I’m no gentleman.”
Oh, how she wanted him to prove it. She had been kissed one too many times by stiff, proper gentlemen. Her hand dipped into his shirt, and she felt the raw power of him. His heart slammed against her palm, and the muscles of his chest were tightly bunched.
“Do I make your heart beat like that?”
His mouth caressed her ear. “Always.” She felt his teeth and shivered as he nibbled her ear and then her neck. “You’ve chided me for our lack of conversation,” he whispered, “but this is not the time. My men have orders to be silent. Not to move, not to breathe until we launch the boats at first light.”
“Every sound carries when it’s this silent,” she murmured.
“Exactly. If I touch you, you must promise not to cry out, not to scream your pleasure.”
She pulled back. “Ha! You certainly have a high opinion of your talents.” But she remembered the first time with him. She remembered the pleasure.
He drew her back against him and nuzzled her neck. “You’re no innocent, Ashley. I don’t have to be careful not to shock you, not to hurt you. In fact, I have plans for you.”
“Plans?” she breathed as his mouth moved lower, down the column of her neck to her collarbone. Her breasts felt heavy, and the pressure of his hands on her waist impossibly tempting.
“Before Johnson attacked you, I slept in a cot with the men just to keep myself from touching you, but it didn’t stop me from imagining all the wicked things I could do to you. All the ways to make you come.”
Oh, he was wicked indeed. No gentleman would use language like that. If she didn’t have a house full of brothers, she might not even know what he meant. But she knew the word and the sensation. He’d shown her before.
Her hands tightened on his slim waist, where she clutched at him as his mouth dipped even lower, his tongue teasing the swells of her breasts where they rose over the low neckline of her shift. The garment was loose and easily removed and as his tongue teased her, his hands moved upward to cup her. One thumb slid over her hard, tender nipple, and she gasped.
“Tell me to stop, Ashley,” he said, as his teeth gently scraped her sensitive skin. His thumb rolled over that taut peak, and she could not stop herself from pushing it into his hands. “I don’t want recriminations tomorrow. No implications that I tricked you.”
“I’m not tricked,” she whispered. “I want you.”
