Marooned

MAROONED

“What would you do with me?” she asked, her voice suddenly husky. “I know what I’d like to do,” he said, as his mouth descended. His lips touched hers, lightly at first, then with more insistence. She waited for the revulsion, but it never came. Instead, a languorous warmth spread through her. “Open your mouth,” he murmured against her lips. “Why?” she asked, just before his mouth closed on her lower lip, sucking on it gently. She gave herself up to his expert kisses, not even objecting when his tongue stole inside her mouth. Her hands roamed over his chest, enjoying the feel of warm skin and firm muscle. When her fingers grazed one flat male nipple, he groaned low in his throat. Ah, she had found one way to pleasure him. Her life might depend on that ability. She brushed his nipples with the pads of her fingers, feeling the tips harden, then lightly scored her nails over them. He sucked in a breath and broke the kiss. “Tease me, will you?” She smiled and boldly rubbed his nipples again. Even through her sensual haze, she was aware her future might depend on pleasing this man, in any way possible. Pleasure led to control, as she had learned from Kitty. She slid her arms up his chest and pulled his head to hers for another kiss. He responded with an ardor that stole her breath away. His lips were firm and moist, his flesh hard and smooth. Touching him, kissing him, was a pleasure. This was so unlike what she’d experienced on her wedding night, and she now knew how badly she’d been cheated…

ALSO BY LYNDI LAMONT Dare All For Love Desperado Finding Jason Lily And The Gambler Painting Penelope Prepare To Be Boarded Seducing The Enemy

MAROONED BY LYNDI LAMONT

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

MAROONED AN AMBER HEAT BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Lyndi Lamont ISBN-10 1-59279- 638-9 ISBN-13 978-1-59279-638-0 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

My sincere thanks go to Gail Selinger, friend and co-author of The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Pirates, and to Colleen Fliedner, friend, travel writer, and sailing enthusiast. Thanks for your patience in answering all my questions. Any errors are mine alone.

She lay upon the clear blue ocean, like a string of pearls on a silk azure sheet. And like the pearls she awaited the pleasure of those who sought her out. For one thing that could never be denied, when you visited Desirata you definitely got what you needed…not necessarily what you wanted.

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MAROONED Atlantic Ocean, 1718 “We should kill her before she harms us,” Kitty whined. “It would serve the witch right.” Roger let out a sigh. “Not yet. I need her until my position is established. Once I am master of the plantation, and have my own people in key positions, sweet Heather can disappear and you will be the new Mrs. Parnell.” Heather bit back a gasp and pressed her ear closer to the crack in the cabin wall. It was decidedly unpleasant to hear one’s own murder discussed so dispassionately. Every fiber of her being brimmed with hatred for the man she’d been forced to marry. The man who had driven her father to suicide. The man who now wanted to murder her and put his mistress in her place. She blinked back tears. How could this have happened? A year ago, 1

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she’d left Jamaica with hopes of finding a husband, a good man she could love with all the passion pent up within her breast. Passion that had turned to cold, deadly anger. She clenched her hands into fists and slumped onto the cot in the tiny cabin, while her husband and his mistress cavorted in the larger cabin next door. The talk had deteriorated to giggles and moans. Heather peered through the crack to see Roger pull Kitty’s shift over her head, revealing her lush charms. His hands roamed over her naked body, from her ample breasts to her wide hips. He closed his mouth around one hardened pink nipple, while his hand cupped the blond thatch between her legs. Kitty writhed and moaned beneath him, urging him on. Heather touched her own breasts, feeling the peaks harden slightly. The sensation was mildly pleasant, but the thought of Roger touching there, or anywhere else, filled her with an impotent rage. How could Kitty find so much pleasure in his touch? He was a detestable little man—selfish, greedy and devious. He unbuttoned his breeches to reveal his erect shaft. Heather eyed it with distaste. Like him, it was not very large, though it had been big enough to hurt when he’d rammed it into her body on their wedding night, muffling her screams with his hand. A shudder of revulsion passed through her. She touched the knife she now wore strapped to her thigh. If he ever touched her again like that, she’d gut him first and worry about the consequences later. Heather watched Kitty take his rod in her hand, cooing over it. The way she flattered the man was disgusting. Then, to Heather’s amazement, Kitty lowered her head and licked the tip. ”I love it when you suck my cock,” Roger said with a groan. “Oh, love, you do know how to please me.” “Better than that frigid witch you married. Now lie back and enjoy.” Heather stared, fascinated and repelled at the same time, as Kitty 2

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applied her hands and mouth to his shaft. She wrapped one hand around the base, used the other to stroke up and down, all the while licking and sucking on the head. He writhed beneath her, urging her on. She stopped and sat up. “I think that’s enough.” “You are the witch, to tease me so.” Kitty’s laugh bubbled up. “You’re in my power now.” “Oh, am I?” He grabbed her and pushed her down onto the mattress. “Fuck me, Roger, now!” He kissed her breasts again, while one hand probed the cleft between her legs. Then he was ramming his cock into Kitty’s blond thatch, while she urged him on with groans and pants, crying, “Yes, yes, more, more.” She let out a little shriek, followed by Roger’s shout of triumph and they both lay still. Heather turned away, ashamed of herself for watching their carnal play. What was wrong with her that she could not respond to a man that way? Of course, she wasn’t a born wanton like Kitty Foxton. Agitated, Heather jumped up and paced the few steps back and forth across her small cabin. It showed Kitty’s influence on the man that he’d not resisted banishing his lawful wife to the maid’s quarters. Not that Heather had any interest in sharing a bed with him. Once had been more than enough. Enough to consummate the marriage, tying her to him for the rest of her miserable life. And enough to convince her she never wanted to do it again. Why was Kitty and Roger’s coupling so joyous when Heather had found no pleasure in it at all? She supposed it made a difference to actually like one’s bed partner. Or was there something wrong with her? Perhaps she was incapable of physical passion with any man. Well, if Roger had his way, she wouldn’t live long enough to find out. If only she could banish them from her life. She halted in her pacing. Yes, that was just what she needed—a 3

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banishing spell. The timing was right, for the moon was just starting to wane. The more important question was how. She had no altar, no magical circle, and precious little privacy. Even an incantation could be heard through the thin cabin walls. She listened for a moment. It was night and the ship was relatively quiet. The only sounds were the creaking of the timbers, Roger’s snoring from the cabin next door, muffled voices from above, and the plaintive sounds of a penny whistle. Most of the crew and passengers were asleep at this hour. If she went on deck, she could cast her spell without being heard. She went to her writing desk, tore off a scrap of paper and wrote the names of the two people who had made her life so miserable of late— Roger Parnell, her unwanted husband, and Kitty Foxton, his scheming mistress. Throwing on her dark blue cape, Heather put the paper in her dress pocket and left the cabin. She made her way up to the deck, pausing to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The first mate approached her. “May I help you with something, Mrs. Parnell?” She smiled at the good-natured Irishman. A pity she’d not met him before her ill-fated trip to London. Not that he stirred any passion in her, but he was a likeable fellow. “No, thank you, Mr. Quinlan. ’Tis just some privacy I crave.” “Very well, madam, but be careful. The wind is a might brisk this evening.” “You need not worry about me,” Heather assured him, then moved to the bow of the ship, where she could be alone. The wind was strong, blowing the hood of her cape back. The full moon shone on the sea, illuminating the white caps and the sails above. She lifted her head, enjoying the feel of the wind on her face, in her hair. She was never happier than when she was outside, surrounded by the elements. Away 4

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from the petty squabbles and schemes of people… She stood still for several moments, basking in the glow of the moonlight, the sound of the waves as they slapped against the hull, and the force of the wind. She was heading home to her beloved Jamaica. This should be a joyous occasion, but it was not. What she was about to do was not without its risks. Her mother had cautioned her to be careful what she asked for. A negative spell would be returned to the sender thrice-fold she had warned. But what did she have to lose except her life and that was uncertain, at best. Decision made, Heather pulled the paper with the names of her tormentors from the pocket of her cape as she formed the incantation in her mind. When she was sure, she held up the paper, focused on the evil being planned, and whispered, “Seek out the pair who plan this deed. Banish them first, by magic's creed! Send them from me. So mote it be!” She repeated the words, her voice growing stronger with each recitation. When the power within her peaked, she tore the paper into shreds and let the wind tear it from her fingers. “Send them from me. So mote it be!” Drained of all emotion, she clutched the rail and stared out to sea. Her spell had been cast. *

*

*

“Where are we, Cap’n?” Adam frowned at the ship’s compass with its needle jumping back and forth, then out at the sunrise spreading over the eastern horizon. “I wish I knew.” He glanced at Harry Yarwood, whose lined face showed his 5

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worry…one shared by Adam since the ship had been blown off course two days ago. “The men are gettin’ restless,” Harry muttered under his breath. Adam nodded grimly. “As I expected.” “If we don’t come right soon—” “I know,” Adam said, cutting him off. “Any new orders, Captain Langworth?” a mocking voice asked. “A change of course, for instance?” Adam turned to face his nemesis, Mose Gower. Ever since Adam had been elected captain, the swarthy pirate, who’d narrowly lost his bid to command the Devil’s Horde, had been intent on undermining Adam’s authority. “Hold your course,” Adam ordered. If he backed down in the face of Mose’s challenge, his days as captain were over, and the crew—and any captives they took—would be far worse off. Mose Gower was a bully with a mean streak as wide as the Atlantic. God help them all if he were ever put in charge. Mose raised one mocking eyebrow. “Very good, Captain,” before striding off. Adam ground his teeth in frustration. The man always hovered on the brink of insubordination. On a commercial vessel, Adam could have found a way to be rid of him, but not in the mob rule that passed for democracy on the Devil’s Horde. He surveyed his crew, fixing each man with a steely look that dared him to challenge the captain’s authority. Some nodded, others nervously looked away, but each seemed to get the message. That settled for now, Adam walked to the rail and stared across the sea. A pirate captain’s authority was tolerated, except in time of battle when it was absolute. In times of uncertainty, that authority was precarious. “Sail ho!” came a cry from the crow’s nest. 6

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“Where away?” “To the nor’-east.” Adam grabbed a spyglass and trained it on the horizon, just able to pick out a speck of white against the orange sky. A diversion was just what this crew needed. “Set a new course, Harry. We may have found us a fat prize.” *

*

*

The next day, when a pirate ship appeared on the horizon, a chill slithered its way down Heather’s spine. While Roger and Kitty stood on deck watching, seemingly mesmerized by the approaching ship, Heather slipped below. She knew what happened to women captured by pirates. She’d grown up in Jamaica on tales of their depredations. Entering Roger’s cabin, she raided his trunk for a change of clothes, then carried them into her tiny cabin. He was not much taller than she was, so his things should fit her. She laid them on her cot and quickly undressed, until she stood naked except for her stockings. She glanced down at her slender figure. Her breasts were small and high, her hips slim and boyish. No wonder Roger preferred Kitty, who was blonde and plump and as pretty as she was evil. But no matter. The pirates would rape anyone in skirts, and that was a fate Heather hoped to avoid. She pulled the pins out of her hair and unbraided it, letting the heavy black strands fall to her waist. Her hair was her only glory, but cut it, she must. ’Twould grow back, did she live long enough. Grabbing the knife she’d strapped to her thigh for protection, she hacked at the long strands, cutting them to just below her shoulders. She wrapped the discarded locks in her shift before hiding it in her trunk with her gown. Suddenly she remembered her wedding ring. She pulled it off and stared at the gold band. It had been her mother’s ring and had thus 7

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known happiness once. It might be all she would keep of her mother’s and she’d not give it up easily. She grabbed a string, knotted it around the ring and tied the ribbon around her neck. That accomplished, she bound her breasts with a linen cloth and tucked her knife back into her garter, where the pirates wouldn’t find it easily. Then she donned Roger’s shirt, breeches and waistcoat. The fit was a bit roomy, and the sleeves were too long, so she rolled them up over her forearms. Finally, she wrapped a neck cloth high around her neck to hide the fact she had no discernible Adam’s apple and tied her hair into a queue with a black ribbon. She surveyed herself in her small mirror and thought she just might pass for a very young man. If no one from the Sea Rover gave her away. The ship’s motion had slowed, and shouts could be heard from above. Heather squared her shoulders and left the cabin, taking what she hoped were long, masculine strides. Her heart pounded in her chest and she struggled to slow her breathing. She had never been so terrified in all her life. “Sweet lady,” she whispered, “protect the innocent. So mote it be.” *

*

*

Heather climbed to the deck and stood next to Niall Quinlan. He glanced over at her and his pale blue eyes grew wide, then he smiled and winked. She smiled her thanks. Here, at least, was one person who’d not betray her. The pirate ship was close enough now for her to see the figurehead, a leering devil holding a pitchfork. A black flag with a skull and crossbones blew in the breeze. When the ship had closed on them, the pirates swarmed onboard, brandishing pistols, swords and daggers. The crew of the Sea Rover gave no resistance, for they were outnumbered and out-gunned. A stocky pirate of swarthy complexion appeared to be in charge. He 8

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strutted about the deck issuing orders. Captain Compton, his back and jaw rigid, surrendered his ship and his sword to the brigand. Suddenly one of the pirates spied Kitty, grabbed her and threw her on the deck. Squatting down, he pushed up her skirts with one hand, while unbuttoning his trousers with the other. “No,” she screamed, trying to get away. “Stop! Leave her alone,” Roger yelled, as he pulled a pistol from his pocket and fired at the pirate. His shot hit the deck beside the man, who scrambled backwards. The swarthy man calmly lifted his hand and shot Roger, who crumpled to the deck. Kitty charged at the pirate. He lifted his left hand and impaled her on his dagger. She screamed one last time before her eyes turned up and she fell to the deck. In a daze, Heather moved to her husband’s side and knelt beside him. How had this happened? She’d only meant to banish him, not see him killed. She checked for signs of life, but found none. “I never meant for this to happen,” she whispered. “Not this way. Sweet lady, what have I done?” She glanced up, but no one seemed to be paying her any attention. Quickly, she took Roger’s hand in hers, slipped the signet ring off his finger and slid it into her waistcoat pocket. It had been her father’s ring and rightfully belonged to her. “What is going on here, Gower? I heard shots.” Heather looked up and saw a tall man with a commanding presence jump lightly onto the deck of the Sea Rover. Sunlight glinted in his golden brown hair and an emerald earring dangled from one lobe. A white shirt, open at the neck, strained across his broad shoulders and chest. He wore a short brown waistcoat and breeches with black boots. 9

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A sword belt hung around his waist, and he carried a pistol. A shiver raced through her. He was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen and one of the most dangerous. He is the one. The words flitted through her mind as a chill rushed over her, followed by a flush of heat. Her breath quickened and her heart rate increased. “No,” she whispered. “Not a pirate.” A tinkle of laughter was her only answer. The swarthy pirate turned to face the newcomer. “A small unpleasantness. Nothing to worry our captain.” He gestured toward Heather, where she crouched next to Roger’s body. “This landlubber objected to Uttley fucking his doxy.” The pirate captain stared at Heather. “Do you know this man?” “Yes,” she stammered, riveted by his intent gaze. “He was my…uncle,” she lied. “And the woman?” “His mistress,” she said. The captain nodded and turned away. “Toss the bodies overboard, Gower.” The swarthy pirate motioned to several pirates who hurried to obey him. The handsome pirate surveyed the Sea Rover. “A fine ship, this one. It will make a fine flagship, do you not agree, Gower?” The swarthy pirate stiffened. “If you say so, Captain.” He almost sneered the last word. So there’s no love lost between the two. The captain turned to one of his pirates. “Have my things brought over. And tell Yarwood he’s taking over as captain of the Devil’s Horde.” “Yes, Cap’n Langworth.” 10

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Gower turned red with fury and fingered his dagger, then turned to face the crew of the Sea Rover, who had been lined up by the rail. “All right, lads. Who among you want to join us? It’s a right fine life, ain’t it, Captain Langworth?” The captain ignored him. “Any man who wants to join us is welcome. All others will be put to sea in a longboat.” To her surprise, almost half of the crew stepped forward, including Niall Quinlan. Heather gaped at him. She’d never expected him to turn pirate. “We’ll join ye, Cap’n,” Niall said. “Welcome to our merry band,” Captain Langworth replied, a bit sardonically. “Gower, see the rest of these men into a longboat, and give them water and food.” Gower turned to the pirates guarding the captured seamen. “You heard the captain. Smartly now.” Heather bit her lip. This far out in the ocean, being stranded in a longboat was practically a death sentence, even if the pirates gave them food and water. She was finally free of the man who’d wanted to kill her, and now it looked as though she’d die of thirst on the ocean. What you send out comes back to you thrice-fold. Her mother’s warning rang in her mind. Why had she not listened? She stood and started to join the crew, but stopped. If she got into that longboat, she’d never see Jamaica again. The other alternative was to join the pirates. She looked at the captain. “Well, lad, what will it be? A pirate’s life or the open sea?.” “I wish to join your crew,” she said. “Throw ’im back. He’s too little.” Uttley chortled to general laughter. “He’s too pretty,” Gower complained. “He’ll be nothin’ but trouble.” The captain raised a hand for silence. “How old are you, lad?” 11

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“Sixteen,” Heather replied, hoping he would believe her. Langworth narrowed his eyes. “You were a passenger, were you not? What do you know of seamanship?” “Nothing,” Heather admitted. “What skills do you have?” Heather thought frantically. What could she do that was useful on a ship? Then she remembered seeing crewmen repairing sails. “I can sew. And cook.” “What about weapons? No one joins without a pistol, ammunition and sword.” “I have those below, if your men have not already stolen them,” she replied boldly. “Very well,” he said. “We can teach you everything else you need to know. Report to the galley and see what there is to eat. Then bring some food to my cabin.” “Aye, sir.” Heather replied. She glanced at Captain Compton, who raised his eyebrows in question. She shrugged. Her decision had been made. *

*

*

Adam surveyed the captain’s cabin on his new ship. It was more spacious than the one on the Devil’s Horde. He could actually stand upright without hitting his head on the ceiling. His previous cabin had not been designed for a man who topped six feet in height. He had no sooner sat behind the desk than Gower entered. “I should have been given command of the Devil’s Horde.” Adam met his glare head on. “Yarwood is a better seaman. Besides, I need you here. Someone has to assess the cargo and assign value to it.” Gower shot him a venomous look. “Yes, sir.” Adam handed him the passenger and cargo lists. “This should be all you need. I’ll look over the ship’s log. Dismissed.” 12

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“This is not the end of the matter.” With that, Gower turned and strode out, anger radiating from every pore. Adam sighed. The man was a thorn in his side, but he was the best quartermaster around. And the men were so afraid of him, there had been no theft. Perhaps he should have made Gower captain of the Devil’s Horde, but would that have satisfied Gower’s ambition, other than temporarily? Adam thought not. He rubbed his face and eyed the captain’s berth with longing. He’d had almost no sleep in two days. Perhaps there would be time to nap after he’d eaten. He stood, removed his waistcoat and shirt and walked to the small table by the bed. After he poured water into the basin, he washed his face and torso, then dried off. A tentative knock at the door interrupted him. “Come,” he called. The door opened to reveal the young lad he’d spoken to earlier carrying a bowl of what smelled like beef stew. The boy stopped and stared at him, then dropped his eyes as a flush crept up his neck and face. Adam chuckled. The lad had best get over his modesty quickly, if he wanted to survive on this ship. “Don’t just stand there, lad. Put the food on the desk.” The boy hastened to comply, then turned to leave. Adam sat behind the desk and said, “Not so fast. What’s your name?” The boy stopped and stood stiffly. “It’s…Hal.” “Sit down, Hal, and keep me company.” “Yes, sir.” The boy perched on a chair facing the desk. Adam took a bite of the stew. “This is good. Did you make it?” “No, sir, the ship’s cook did.” As he ate, Adam stared at the boy, who kept his gaze averted. He had skin like a girl’s, white and fine. His eyes were a dark blue, almost 13

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violet, with long, dark lashes and delicate brows. Gower was right. Hal was far too pretty for his own good. Hal looked up and licked his lips, and Adam felt a tightening in his loins. Bloody hell, what was the matter with him? He had no interest in other men. “Tell me about yourself,” he said gruffly. “There’s not much,” Hal began in a light tenor, then his voice suddenly deepened. “Not much to tell. My uncle and I were headed home to our plantation on Jamaica.” “Where did you go to school?” A panicky look crossed Hal’s face. “I, uh, I was educated at home.” Adam’s suspicions grew. He looked back at Hal and noticed his posture. He sat stiffly in the chair, thighs pressed together and ankles crossed. Just like a well-bred young lady might sit. He studied the boy’s face and saw no trace of a beard or mustache. Hal squirmed under his scrutiny. “May I go now, sir?” Adam stood. “No, not yet. Stand up.” Hal stood stiffly before him. Adam reached out and put a hand on Hal’s shoulder, noting the fine bones. He moved his hand down, feeling the soft flesh and lack of muscle in the arm. He studied Hal’s fine, pale complexion, and, for the first time, noticed that both earlobes were pierced. “What is your real name, lass?” he asked softly. *

*

*

Heather shrugged out of his grasp. How had he found her out so easily? “Why did you call me that?” she blustered. Langworth stared at her, a rueful look on his face. “You’re no boy or I miss my guess.” His eyes darkened as his voice lowered and became huskier. “You’re too fine-boned and delicate. Not to mention far too pretty.” 14

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She backed up, her heart pounding, until she hit the wall. He was so tall and so powerful. Her gaze was drawn to his muscular, and very bare chest, then followed the trail of light brown hair to where it disappeared inside his breeches. Is he as large there as everywhere else? The very thought made her feel faint. She gasped for a deep breath, but it was hard with her breasts bound so tightly. What would he do if he knew the truth? Silly question. She knew what he’d do. She could read it in his eyes. Heat rushed through her as she pictured it. He would he take her in his arms, hold her next to that magnificent body, then undress her, unwinding the cloth from around her bosom, and kiss her breasts. Once she was naked, he’d take her, slamming into her body with his large, fleshen rod. Would he hurt her or pleasure her? Ah, that was the question. Even if he did not hurt her, then what? Turn her over to his men until each brigand had his chance to use her. A shudder ripped through her. She’d rather die right now. “Talk to me, lass.” “I am not a lass,” she insisted. No, she was a woman, and thanks to him, she was starting to feel like one. “There is one way to be sure.” Langworth grabbed her right arm with one hand, pulled her closer, and felt between her legs with the other. She stiffened as her stomach muscles clenched. “As I said, what is your real name, my girl?” Heather struggled to get free, but he was too strong for her. What would happen to her now? She could not even reach the knife strapped to her thigh. “Let me go.” He pulled her closer, the hand that had been between her legs now on her bum. “Not until you answer me,” “Heather,” she whispered. “My name is Heather.” “A lovely name,” he murmured. “Unusual, perhaps, but it suits you.” 15

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“And you are…?” “Adam.” Adam. A primal name that fit him perfectly. Her hands gripped the warm, smooth flesh at his waist. He was so large and muscular, and she should have been afraid, but somehow she was not. “Where do we go from here?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “Don’t rape me,” she pleaded. He flinched at her words and abruptly let her go. “I am not in the habit of raping women.” “But your men are,” she pointed out. He took a few paces across the small cabin. “Aye, some of them.” “Must you tell them?” He stopped pacing to look at her. “Do you have any idea of the position you’ve placed me in? The ship’s articles prohibit bringing a woman on board.” “You did not bring me on board,” she argued. “I was already here.” “A technicality. Besides, the articles also prohibit keeping secrets from the other members of the crew. Punishment for that is marooning.” Heather flinched. Marooning meant a slow death from hunger and thirst on a deserted island. “Then you have no choice, do you? You have to tell them.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “You appear to be a lady of means. Is there anyone who’d pay ransom for you?” “No. My father died a few months ago. I own our sugar plantation now, but there are no other assets, at least none you have not already stolen by taking this ship. My father lost everything at the gaming tables.” “So that is why you were traveling with your uncle.” “That was a lie, too,” Heather admitted. “The man who died was my husband, Roger Parnell.” 16

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Adam stared at her. “Your husband. Then who was the other woman?” “Kitty Foxton, his mistress,” Heather said flatly. “That part was true. She was supposed to be acting as my maid, but it was she who shared his bed.” Adam shook his head. “Not many ladies would put up with that.” “Better her than me. I despised him.” Adam’s brows quirked. “Then why did you marry him?” “I had no choice. He’s the one who ruined my father by cheating at cards. Da was so downcast, he shot himself. I was left with nothing. Nothing. Then the blackguard who destroyed my life offered to marry me. Last night, I learned that he and Kitty planned to kill me once he’d established himself as master of the plantation. Your Mr. Gower did me a favor by killing them.” Adam stood, walked around the desk and reached for her hands. “That is an extraordinary tale.” She laughed, a little hysterically. “It is, is it not?” “Most well-bred ladies would have fainted by now. I applaud your courage and resourcefulness.” Heather stood to face him, her hand still in his. “I am made of sterner stuff than most ladies.” “I see that. There is, perhaps, one solution to this dilemma. I could claim you as my share-and-a-half from the Sea Rover.” He let go of her hands and pulled her to him, one arm around her waist. His other hand grabbed hold of her hair and tugged her head back. She looked up into his face and saw that his eyes were green flecked with gold. They glittered with anger and desire. Her hands were pressed to his warm chest and her stomach against his groin. She felt his hard shaft and a strange warmth crept over her body. It spoke of anticipation and need. “Your share-and-a-half? What does that mean?” 17

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“When a ship is captured, the quartermaster catalogs the goods on board, then it is divided evenly among the crew. The captain receives a share-and-a-half. You would be mine.” He is the one. The words rang through her mind. “What would you do with me?” she asked, her voice suddenly husky. “I know what I’d like to do,” he said, as his mouth descended. His lips touched hers, lightly at first, then with more insistence. She waited for the revulsion, but it never came. Instead, a languorous warmth spread through her. “Open your mouth,” he murmured against her lips. “Why?” she asked, just before his mouth closed on her lower lip, sucking on it gently. She gave herself up to his expert kisses, not even objecting when his tongue stole inside her mouth. Her hands roamed over his chest, enjoying the feel of warm skin and firm muscle. When her fingers grazed one flat male nipple, he groaned low in his throat. Ah, she had found one way to pleasure him. Her life might depend on that ability. She brushed his nipples with the pads of her fingers, feeling the tips harden, then lightly scored her nails over them. He sucked in a breath and broke the kiss. “Tease me, will you?” She smiled and boldly rubbed his nipples again. Even through her sensual haze, she was aware her future might depend on pleasing this man, in any way possible. Pleasure led to control, as she had learned from Kitty. She slid her arms up his chest and pulled his head to hers for another kiss. He responded with an ardor that stole her breath away. His lips were firm and moist, his flesh hard and smooth. Touching him, kissing him, was a pleasure. This was so unlike what she’d experienced on her wedding night, and she now knew how badly she’d been cheated. 18

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He moved one hand to her bum again, kneading her flesh, pressing her closer to his hard shaft. The muscles in her groin tensed with need, and she knew making love with Adam would be pleasure, not pain. His other hand unbuttoned her waistcoat and caressed her bosom. “Damn,” he murmured against her lips. “You bound your breasts.” “I had to,” she whispered back. His response was to unbutton her breeches and push them down around her ankles. His hands delved beneath the hem of her shirt, lightly caressing the sensitive flesh on her thighs, then her bottom. She gasped when his hand brushed her stomach, then moved to cup the pulsing mound of her sex. His fingers parted the folds of flesh and traced her slit, now damp with her own juices. He probed her opening with the tip of one finger. “You’re so hot, and so tight. Like a virgin.” “Not a virgin,” she whispered. “Spread your legs, love,” he growled, removing his finger. She obeyed, spreading her legs as far as they would go with her breeches tangled around her ankles. He inserted his thigh between hers, rubbing it against her crotch. The friction teased the hard little nub of pleasure, making her gasp. She rode his thigh as the sensation built between her legs. Higher and higher, until she thought she could stand it no more. His mouth closed over hers to drown her mews of pleasure. “Shush,” he cautioned. She clung to him, his thigh still gripped between her own, until the spasms stopped. When she looked up at him, he wore a smug smile. “I think you enjoyed that.” “I did,” she said, amazed that it was true. He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. “I’d like nothing better than to spend the rest of the day making love to you. I want to do it properly next time, lying down, in a bed. But we haven’t the time. 19

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You’d best cover yourself.” Still a bit dazed, she obeyed him, tucking in her shirt and buttoning her breeches. Without a doubt, he knew how to pleasure a woman. But had she pleased him? She looked at him and saw his erect shaft sticking up like a tent pole inside his breeches, and she remembered what Kitty had done to Roger. “There should be time for one thing,” Heather murmured. She knelt before Adam and unbuttoned his breeches. As his rod sprang free, she cupped one hand around the base and used the other to caress the length. His cock was as large and thick as she’d expected. Adam Langworth was a magnificent figure of a man, in every possible way. And now she was his. She touched the tip of his shaft, noting the drops of liquid that appeared. She used her fingertip to capture a drop of liquid, then brought her finger to her mouth and sucked on it. “God, Heather, stop teasing me,” he pleaded. She smiled. He was in her power now, at least for the next few moments. Good. She bent her head and licked the tip of his cock, then took it into her mouth, sucking gently. His hips rocked forward, pushing more of his length into her. She nearly gagged, but backed up a bit, using her hands to stroke up and down his shaft. “I cannot wait much longer.” Her response was to suck harder and he came in her mouth, filling it with his salty juices. She looked up and saw him muffle his cry of release with his hand. Dimly she became aware of shouts from above deck and the sound of running feet. She hastily buttoned his breeches over his now-limp flesh and jumped to her feet. He grabbed her for a quick kiss, then hurried to sit behind his desk just as the door crashed open to admit a 20

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young seaman. “Cap’n, there be a storm on the horizon. Ye’d best come have a look see.” “I’ll be right there, Sam.” After the man left, Adam stood and turned to Heather. “Douse the galley fire, then go below and stay out of the way.” “I will,” she said as she hurried out. *

*

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A short time later, Heather huddled on the bunk in her cabin. The storm had sprung up quickly and the ship was being tossed about. She was thankful Adam had sent her below. She’d never have been able to keep her feet on deck. A side swell rolled her toward the hull, then back to the edge of her berth. She grabbed hold of the lip to keep from tumbling out. She’d be black and blue by morning, if she lived that long. She wondered how Adam was faring up on deck and hoped he was safe. Pirate or no, there was something about the man that drew her. She thought back to what had happened between them and heat rose to her cheeks. His hand between her legs, teasing and stroking her crack, and the tremors of ecstasy rushing through her body. She hardly knew him, and yet she had responded to him like a true wanton. Perhaps she was not frigid after all, but that she just had not met the right man. But for the right man to be a pirate? She laughed at the joke fate had played on her. Or was this part of her punishment for the banishing spell? Nay, ’twas simple lust. Nonetheless, she longed for more of his kisses, his touch. She wondered how it would feel to have his hands and mouth on her bare breasts, his cock inside her. As the night passed, the storm worsened, shaking the timbers of the ship until Heather feared it would founder and sink. Fearing for her life, she crawled out of her berth and reached below it for her trunk. 21

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Opening it, she rummaged around, finding her father’s sword and pistol still at the bottom, as was her jewelry box. She felt inside it for her favorite seashell. Gripping it in her hand, she made an appeal to the god of the sea. Lord of the Mists, God of the Sea, I bow to your strength In the beat of the waves. Keep us from harm, In the eye of the storm. Lord of the Mists, God of the Sea, Hear thou my prayer, So mote it be! Having done all she could, Heather put the shell in her pocket and crawled back to her bunk. *

*

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The storm subsided by morning, but the skies remained gray and drizzly. Adam surveyed the damage from the quarterdeck, along with Sam Wheaton and Niall Quinlan. Sails were ripped and torn rigging was strewn about, but the masts still stood. The pumps worked to expel water that had splashed into the hold. “Where are we, Cap’n?” asked Sam. Adam stared up at the sky, but he could make no readings without the sun. “Unfortunately, I cannot say. Not until the sun comes out. Is there any sign of the Devil’s Horde?” “No, sir.” Adam cursed. He hoped the other ship had survived the storm. She 22

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could be miles away by now. At least she was in good hands. Yarwood was as fine a seaman as he’d ever met. “Have you had a chance to assess the damage?” he asked Quinlan. “Nothing that cannot be fixed, sir.” “Good,” Adam replied. “Captain Langworth,” rang out a voice from below, “a word with you, please?” Adam looked down at the main deck and saw Mose Gower with Heather beside him, a worried look on her face. “Of course.” Mose motioned for Heather to climb the ladder to the quarterdeck, then followed her up. Niall Quinlan moved to stand by her, and Adam realized he’d known who she was all along. “What is it, Gower?” The quartermaster pitched his voice so all could hear. “I have examined the ship’s papers and discovered a discrepancy.” He paused for effect. “Shall we go below to discuss this?” Adam asked. “No, this concerns all of us. We have an imposter aboard. A woman.” He pointed to Heather. “How do you know?” one of the men shouted. “The passenger list named two women, not one. Heather Parnell and Kitty Foxton.” He turned to Heather. “Which one are you?” She stood up straighter and faced him down. “Heather Parnell.” Adam was proud of her, but at the same time he feared for her life. Heather was as brave as any seaman he’d ever known. “Throw her overboard,” yelled one of the men. “Aye, she’s bad luck,” another shouted. Adam strode to the rail and glared at them. “Silence. No one is going to be thrown overboard.” “Women on board are bad luck. Look what happened to this ship.” “That’s nonsense,” Adam argued. “I’ve served on merchant ships 23

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before and seen plenty of women come and go, and I assure you, they do not cause bad luck.” “She’s a witch,” shouted one of the men from the Sea Rover. “I seen her casting a spell.” “That’s ridiculous,” Adam shouted. “She certainly seems to have bewitched our captain,” Gower said. “Perhaps we can all share her favors.” Adam whipped around to glare at him. “She is mine. I claim her as my share-and-a-half. No one else will touch her.” Adam held his hand out to her and she scurried to his side. He wrapped an arm around her. “She seems oddly willing to be claimed by you,” Gower said, circling around them. “Is it possible you knew she was a woman from the start? Have you been keeping secrets from us, Captain Langworth?” Muttering and curses drifted up from the men. Adam stiffened. Would they believe him if he denied it? “She was alone in the captain’s cabin with him yesterday,” Sam Wheaton said suddenly. “Is it true, Cap’n? Was you keepin’ secrets from us?” “Not on purpose,” Adam said. He raised his hand to silence his crew. “I found out the truth right before the storm hit. After that, there were more important things to do.” “Do we want a captain who keeps secrets from us?” Gower asked the men. A roar went up from the assembled crew. “I’d say it’s time we elect a new captain. What say you?” “Aye!” Adam held tight to Heather as Mose Gower was elected the new captain. A majority of the crew transferred from the Devil’s Horde voted for the change. The men from the Sea Rover were ineligible to vote or Adam might have stood a chance. 24

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As soon as Gower was elected, he accused Adam of violating the ship’s articles and another vote went against him. He and Heather were sentenced to be marooned. *

*

*

Marooned. Heather stood on the small spit of land gripping Adam’s arm and watched the Sea Rover sail away into the fog that shrouded the island. Fear and anger fought for dominance in her breast, and anger won. She let go of Adam’s arm and marched to the edge of the water. “Curse them,” she shouted at the departing ship. “Curse them all.” Be careful, her inner voice warned, but Heather ignored it. She bent to scoop up some water, then stood and let it flow from her hands as she formed the words in her mind. Lord of the mists, God of the sea, Harry the villains Who did this to me. No peace shall they find, This curse them shall bind. No peace shall they gain, If they be my bane! So mote it be. She turned to look at Adam, expecting to see revulsion on his face, but he appeared merely surprised. “Are you truly a witch?” he asked, moving to stand in front of her. “Aye. My mother was one, too. That is why she and my da had to leave Scotland.” “What will happen to the ship and crew?” She shrugged. “I do not know. Perhaps nothing.” 25

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He raised his brows. “Are your curses so ineffectual?” She smiled ruefully. “Not as a rule.” “Should I be afraid?” he joked. “Yes.” She looked around the small island. It was no bigger than a drawing room, just a small hillock of sand with a few weeds growing and pieces of driftwood scattered here and there. “I very much fear this is all my fault.” He put his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I doubt that. You could hardly be responsible for the bad blood between me and Gower.” Her anger dissipated, and fear now took its place. “True, but I am responsible for our current predicament.” “How?” She drew back to look at him. “The night before the attack, I performed a banishing spell. I wanted Roger and Kitty out of my life, not dead.” “How does that affect us being marooned?” “My ma always said to be careful what you asked for. A negative spell will return to the sender thrice-fold. I should never have cast that spell.” “Why did you do it?” “I knew they wanted to kill me, so what did I have to lose but my life?” “So nothing has changed.” She touched his face, the stubble of his beard rough against her fingertips. “Aye, but now I am responsible for your death, too.” He caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the palm. “No, love, you are not. Besides, if I must die, I can think of no better way to go than in the arms of a beautiful woman.” She blinked back tears. “No man has ever called me that before.” “Then you knew only fools.” 26

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She brushed back one tear that had escaped. “Forgive my weakness.” Adam kissed her forehead. “Any other lady would have succumbed to the vapors before this.” She laughed shakily. “I’ve never had the vapors in my life, and I don’t intend to start now.” “Good, for I have a better way to spend our last hours together. I want to make love to you before I die. I want to see the ecstasy on your face when I make you climax. I want to feel your tight channel pulsing around my cock. Do you want that, too, Heather?” She stared at him, saw the desire in his expression, felt the quickening of her heart, the tightening of the muscles between her legs. “Yes, but—” He covered her lips with his finger. “No buts. Did you not enjoy what we did yesterday?” She pushed his finger aside. “Yes, but I did not enjoy my wedding night. ’Twas nothing but pain and humiliation.” Adam scowled. “Then your husband deserved his fate. If he had done it right, you would have felt pleasure. Let me show you how wonderful it can be.” He gently took her head between his hands. “If there is something, anything, you do not like, simply ask me to stop.” Her heart fluttered wildly in her breast. Would it be different with Adam? Excitement tempered by trepidation warred within her. She looked into his eyes and knew she could trust him. “Very well,” she agreed. *

*

*

Adam led the way to the highest point on their little island, carrying the two jugs of water they’d been allotted. Heather followed with the pouch Niall Quinlan had thrust into her hands at the last minute. Though there was no sun, the island was warm, with a slight breeze. The air smelled of the ocean and she drank in the freshness. 27

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Adam set down the jugs, then smoothed out a section of sand. He removed his waistcoat, then pulled off his shirt and laid it on the sand. “Your bed, madam,” he said with a crooked grin. She smiled back, heart pounding in anticipation, as he rose and walked toward her. She dropped the pouch to the sand and waited breathlessly. “Untie your hair.” She undid the black ribbon, stuffed it in her waistcoat pocket and shook her head, letting the shorn strands hang down around her shoulders. He reached out and ran his hands through her hair, finger combing it, then gently rubbing her scalp, soothing away her tension. “It must have been even more beautiful before you cut it.” “Da always said it was my crowning glory.” “I love the color, dark and shiny as a raven’s wing.” He tipped up her chin to stare at her. “And your eyes, such a dark blue, almost purple.” “The color of heather.” “Ah, so that is how you got your name.” “Aye.” His eyes had darkened to a mossy green-gold. “These clothes do not become you,” he said as he untied her stock and let it drop on the ground. “No? I thought I made a charming boy.” He next removed her waistcoat. “Aye, you were a very pretty lad, but I’d see you as nature intended, in all your feminine glory.” “In other words, bare-arsed naked.” He laughed as he tugged her shirt from the waistband of her trousers and pulled it over her head. “Yes, utterly, entirely naked. I want to see your breasts. I want to touch them, kiss them, nibble on them. I want to see your sweet, bare arse, touch you all over until you 28

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scream with pleasure.” His words sent a wave of warmth along her pulses. “I want that, too,” she whispered, barely able to speak. He ran his hands over her shoulders and down the outside of her arms. “You have such beautiful skin, so clear and white. I want to see all of it.” His hands fumbled with the knot in the linen that bound her breasts. She pushed his hands away and untied it, slowly stripping the linen from around her torso. It felt wonderful to take off the tight bindings. “Touch yourself.” Her eyes widened, but she obeyed, touching her hands to her small breasts, cupping them and massaging the sides. He brushed her hands aside. “My turn.” His warm hands covered her breasts, the roughened skin of his fingers and palms providing a welcome friction. Her nipples responded, hardening to tight peaks. She gasped, grabbed his shoulders for support, threw her head back and closed her eyes. All she wanted at this moment was to feel. The sensations were like nothing she’d experienced before, radiating out from the tips of her breasts to the throbbing core between her legs. “Look at me, Heather.” She opened her eyes to see his pleased smile, just as he grazed her nipples with his thumbs, then gently squeezed them. She moaned out loud from the pleasure. “So responsive,” he murmured before pulling her into his arms for a kiss. As his lips and tongue plumbed the depths of her mouth, she pressed her breasts to his chest, delighting in the feel of skin on skin. His hard cock swelled against her belly. Her world narrowed to this man, to this one moment in time. When the kiss ended, they were both breathing harder. Adam unbuttoned her breeches and pushed them down to her 29

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ankles, revealing the knife strapped to her thigh. “What is this for?” “Protection.” “From me?” She shook her head. “Originally from Roger. I decided if he touched me again, I’d gut him before I’d submit.” Adam chuckled. “You are a dangerous woman, my sweet. I think I’ll remove this now, if you do not mind.” He knelt, pulled the knife from her garter, then rolled her stockings down her legs, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin. She put a hand on his shoulder for balance, and stepped out of her shoes and clothes, one foot at a time. She was naked now and his admiring gaze told her he was pleased by her, despite her lack of curves. He stood slowly and walked around her in a circle. “You are lovely, my sweet.” “Am I not too thin?” she asked anxiously. “I thought men preferred lush curves.” “You are slender, yes, but perfectly proportioned.” “Then I please you.” “In every way,” he assured her. He picked up her clothes and laid them around his shirt to make a larger bed for them. “Now lie down.” She reclined on their clothing, feeling the warmth of the sand underneath. She watched as he removed his boots and breeches. His legs were hairy and muscular, his cock large and fully erect. A hint of trepidation crept up her spine. Could she possibly accommodate his length and breadth? He lay down beside her and took her in his arms. His eyes were hooded and intense. “I want you, Heather, but I promise I’ll take it easy and slow. We have all the time in the world, sweeting.” She smiled tremulously. Who would have thought to find such 30

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kindness in a pirate. “I want you, too, Adam.” Her voice was husky with desire. He groaned and took her mouth, his thrusting tongue pushing her to new sensations. Her hands tangled in his long hair while his roamed her body, touching and teasing her back, her stomach, and finally her breasts. Her nipples rose to taut peaks of need. He pulled his mouth from hers and used it to trace a path down her neck, his hot breath and warm lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. Her entire body turned into a mass of quivering need. At last his mouth covered her nipple, rousing a melting sweetness inside her. This was the way lovemaking was meant to be. Slow, tender and arousing, not fast and painful. “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Never,” he growled. He moved his mouth to her other breast, laving the flesh before closing over the hard peak. His hands moved inexorably downward, caressing her waist, her hips, her thighs. “Part your legs and bend your knees,” he ordered. As she obeyed, he moved between her legs, his head at the junction of her thighs. She propped herself on her elbows. “What are you going to do?” “Lie back and relax. I am going to kiss you as you have never been kissed.” He pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin of her upper thigh, and she collapsed back onto his shirt. His fingers played with the hair on her mound, growing ever closer to the slit he’d pleasured with his fingers the day before. Surely he was not going to kiss her there. But he did. With the first touch of his lips, a lightning bolt of pure pleasure arced through her. But he was not done. His breath bathed her sex in a wave of heat. Then he licked her slit, slowly and thoroughly. Her hips bucked and squirmed. “Oh, gods, Adam.” 31

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“Such a sweet cunt. Did you like that?” “Oh, yes,” she cried. He continued to kiss and lap at her nether lips, her slit, and that hard nubbin of need. Her breathing quickened and a delicious shudder heated her body. She gave herself up to the sensations spiraling through her, growing in power, until her body shuddered and she shattered into a million pieces. *

*

*

Adam kissed her still-quivering thigh and smiled. She’d been as responsive as he’d hoped, but was she ready for him? His cock ached for long-delayed gratification. The sight of her on her back, her rose-hued tits puckered with desire, and her legs open almost drove him insane with lust. Yet the sated look on her lovely face filled him with tenderness. She deserved better than life had given her. This was the woman he’d longed for. Why now, when they had so little time left? Fate had played a cruel trick on both of them. He intended to make good use of the time they had together. He ran his fingers over her crack, finding it wet and slick with her own juices. She flinched when his thumb grazed her clitoris. “Easy, love. I just want to see if you’re ready for me.” “Yes, I want you inside me.” He inserted one finger in her tight channel and waited until it expanded to accept him, then added a second finger. When he thought she was ready for him, he positioned himself over her. She urged him on with hands on his waist. He entered her slowly, inch by delicious inch, her channel hot and tight. Unable to wait, he thrust harder and faster. She kept pace with him, her breathing quick and shallow. At the last minute, he reached down to fondle her clitoris until she came apart in his arms. Satisfied, he gave one last thrust and, with a shout of triumph, pumped his seed 32

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into her body. *

*

*

Heather lay wrapped in Adam’s arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her legs entwined with his. “Sweet lady, I had no idea,” she murmured to herself. His chest shook with a rumble of laughter. “Your husband was a fool not to guess the depths of passion in you. His loss, my gain.” She sat up and hugged herself. “How ironic to discover that now. What will happen to us, Adam? Is there anything we can do?” His expression grew serious. “Nothing short of a quick rescue will change our fate. We have enough water for a day or two, if we use it sparingly, and a pistol to end it all when we can bear the thirst no longer.” A chill ran down her spine. “Suicide? I do not think I could—” “Do not worry. I will take care of it.” She stared at him in horror. “You would kill me?” He sat up and reached for her, smoothing her hair back from her face. The look on his face was somber. “Only to spare you from suffering a worse death.” All hope of a miracle gone, Heather buried her face against his chest and sobbed out her fear and sorrow. He held her tight, murmuring nonsense. She cried for all she had lost—her parents, her innocence, her hopes and dreams for the future. *

*

*

Heather awoke to find herself cradled in Adam’s arms. She must have cried herself to sleep. She looked up and saw the moon shining down from a darkening blue sky. The fog had lifted while they slept. She eased herself from Adam’s embrace and crawled to the water jugs for a drink to ease her thirst. The breeze had picked up slightly, a 33

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warm trade wind like the ones she’d known in Jamaica. Perhaps in the storm they’d been blown west, closer to her home. Sadness filled her at the thought of never seeing it again. She stood and walked toward the ocean, reveling in the feel of the warm air on her skin. At least she could die surrounded by nature and in the arms of the man she loved. That thought stopped her in her tracks. Did she love Adam Langworth? He is the one. She looked up at the moon. “Oh, goddess, very well, he is the one. But why did you do this to us? Bring us together like this?” Do not fear, my daughter. All will be well. She wished she could believe the voice in her head, but it was hard to ignore their desperate situation. As she reached the ocean, she saw that the tide was beginning to recede, leaving a small band of wet sand. Perfect for casting a circle. A cleansing ritual would be good for her soul and her conscience. She picked up a piece of driftwood to draw her circle, moving to her left. When she was done, she faced the North Star, which was visible despite a few lingering clouds. Lifting her arms, she began to chant. “Beloved goddess of the night, Cleanse my spirit with your light.” Closing her eyes, she cupped her hands and pictured her anger, a dark red glowing ball of light, inside them. She took a deep breath and let it out, picturing the ball brighten to a rosy shade, then a pale pink. When it turned to purest white, she spun in a circle and released it into the air. 34

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“As above, so below, I let all my anger go. As the moon disappears, So will all my hate and fears. So mote it be!” As she stood there, a feeling of peace stole over her. All the turbulent emotions of the past few months disappeared, leaving her full of love and wonder. She closed the circle, then turned to see Adam watching her. “What are you doing?” “A cleansing ritual. I’ve been so full of anger and hate. I had to let all that go. I would die with a clean conscience.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her upturned lips. “I doubt you have much to atone for. I, on the other hand…” He let his words trail off. “Have you done terrible things as a pirate?” “Bad enough,” he said, his lips twisted in a smile. She tugged him by the hand and started to walk along the beach. “Tell me about it. Why did you want to be a pirate?” He ran his other hand through his hair. “I never really wanted to be a pirate.” “Then what happened?” “I was sailing master on a merchant vessel captured by the Devil’s Horde. I declined their offer to join them, but they were in need of a navigator and gave me no choice. Join them or die. So I joined.” “Did you like it?” He stopped to stare out at the ocean, its gentle swells lit by moonlight. “The sailing, yes. I’ve always loved the ocean. Its beauty, its dangers. Its many moods. Wild and savage, then calm and gentle.” He turned to her and grinned. “Like a woman.” 35

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She laughed. “Do you find us so changeable then?” His thumb grazed her lips as he looked deep into her eyes. “I find you fascinating. There’s something intriguing about a beautiful woman who wears a knife strapped to her thigh.” She laughed. “You will never let me forget that, will you?” “Never.” He lowered his mouth to hers in a lingering kiss. His tongue possessed her mouth, exploring and tasting. She ran her hands over his arms and chest. He felt wonderful, every part of him so hard, so very masculine. Tracing the path of hair down his abdomen, she touched his cock and it sprang to life in her hands. She ran her fingers up and down the length, then teased the head with one fingertip. He groaned against her lips, “Keep that up, lass, and you’ll be sorry.” She let go of him with a laugh and backed up. “Very well, sir, no touching.” “I did not say that,” he growled as he reached for her. She ducked his hand and ran into the ocean, water splashing under her feet. He caught up to her in three strides and twirled her to face him. Heart pounding with anticipation, she kept backing up into deeper and deeper water. He followed, an intent look on his face that thrilled her to the core. Suddenly she stepped off a sand bank and found herself shoulder deep in sea water. She grabbed his arm as she struggled to keep her footing. “Oh, it’s much deeper here. We should go back.” “I’ve got you, lass. Put your arms and legs around me.” She circled his neck with her arms as he lifted her by her bum and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His erect cock throbbed against her belly. “Now I’ve got you where I want you.” His warm breath heated her ear and a shiver of need passed through her. 36

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He took her earlobe in his mouth and sucked on it, nibbling and tugging. Then his lips seared a path down her neck to the pulsing hollow at her throat. “Kiss my breasts, Adam,” she begged. He complied, taking one hardened peak into his mouth, while one hand probed the sensitive skin of her bum. Warmth spread through her body as the aching need between her legs built again. He moved his mouth to the other breast as his hand probed her slit, sliding one finger inside it. His thumb teased her pleasure button. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart raced. A primal need arose in her, pushed on by the pulse of the ocean around her. “Now, Adam, I need you now.” He entered her in one hard thrust, an act of possession. Her muscles clenched with the pain and pleasure of it. She clutched his shoulders as he thrust into her again and again, in rhythm with the pounding surf. Her muscles tensed as the sensations built, until tremors of rapture caught in her throat and she called his name in a long, keening cry. His own climax came soon after, leaving them clinging to each other. Her limbs were trembling now from the strain. “Put me down,” she said, letting her legs drift downward. He shifted his hold and carried her back to shore, one arm around her back, the other under her legs. Her arms were still around his neck, but in a more relaxed hold now. “You are so strong.” His grin was proud and masculine. She kissed him. “I love you, Adam Langworth.” He stopped to look at her. “Do you mean that?” “Yes.” “I love you, too, Heather Parnell. You are my woman, for as long as we both shall live.” She looked up at the moon, and whispered, “So mote it be.” *

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The next morning dawned clear and bright. When Heather stood and stretched, a miraculous sight greeted her eyes. To the south, she saw a large tree-covered island, perhaps half a mile away. The tide had ebbed, leaving a path of sand between the two. “Adam, get up. You won’t believe this.” He jumped to his feet and stared at the island, a look of wonder on his face. “Maybe there is something to that legend after all.” “What legend?” “The myth of Desirata. A magical island where the lost find their way.” “Do you think that is where we are?” He grinned and shrugged. “Who knows? I never believed the stories, but now we just may live a while longer. That island has a source of fresh water, or I miss my guess.” Quickly they dressed and headed out, Adam carrying the one jug of water they had left. Heather rejoiced in the beautiful day—the clear sky, the calm water, the cries of seabirds as they circled overhead. Once they reached the opposite shore, they climbed a cliff and found a secluded cove on the other side. A ship lay at anchor. A familiar-looking ship. Heather looked at Adam, her heart racing. “Can that be—” “Aye, ’tis the Sea Rover.” Her spirits fell. “They will not help us.” Adam squinted at the ship. “Something is different. The Union Jack is flying from the main mast.” “Are they setting a trap for another ship?” “Look,” he said, pointing. “The longboats are on board. How on earth…” “Niall Quinlan,” Heather said. “He must have managed to get control of the ship.” She grabbed Adam by the hand. “Come! He’ll help us.” 38

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“Careful,” he warned. “Let me go first.” They made their way down the cliff and across the sand toward the ship. A shout rang out from on board. “Ahoy, the ship,” Adam shouted back. “Permission to come aboard?” “Permission granted.” Heather recognized Niall’s voice and broke into a run. A boat was lowered to convey them to the Sea Rover. Captain Compton and Niall Quinlan greeted them on deck and Heather kissed them both on the cheek. “How did you manage to rout the pirates?” she asked. Niall grinned. “We broke out the bottles of wine and whiskey on board and let them drink their fill. After that, it was easy to herd them into the hold and tie them up.” “Even Gower?” Adam asked. “He was a bit more of a problem, but we managed. He’ll hang when we get back to Jamaica.” Adam’s jaw tensed at Niall’s words. “Please, excuse us,” Heather said to the two seamen. She took Adam’s hand and drew him to the bow of the ship. “What is wrong, Adam?” He squeezed her hand. “Gower is not the only one who will hang. I’m wanted also.” She smiled. “I think I have the solution for that.” She dug down into the pocket of the waistcoat and found her father’s signet ring. Taking Adam’s hand, she slid the ring onto his finger. “I left England in the company of my husband. And I can arrive in Jamaica in the company of my husband. What do you say, Roger Parnell?” Adam touched the ring on his finger. “There is nothing I’d like better, my love. But what about Compton and Quinlan? And the rest of the men on this ship? What guarantee is there they will not give me 39

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away?” “They will not do so if I ask it. After all, I’m a witch. Who knows what I might do to someone who displeases me?” He laughed and drew her into his arms. “I’m game to try it, but are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with a pirate?” She smiled up at him. “A former pirate, if you please. And a far more honorable man than the one I married. You’re the one I want.” “Speaking of that, do I have to go through the rest of my life as Roger?” She laughed. “In our private moments, you’ll always be my Adam. I love you and that is all that matters.” “I love you, too. We can be wed in Jamaica,” he promised. “I would like that very much.” As he kissed her to seal their bargain, she thought she heard a woman’s laugh ring out.

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LYNDI LAMONT

Lyndi Lamont is the racy alter ego of author Linda McLaughlin, who writes historical and Regency Romance. You can write to her at: [email protected] To learn more about Lyndi and her books, you can visit her website: http://www.lyndilamont.com *

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Don’t miss Seducing The Enemy, by Lyndi Lamont, available at AmberHeat.com! When Sally Young, an American spy, seduces Jack Tyrell, a British major, she saves her life…but risks her heart. Jack cannot resist Sally, but when he catches her in the act of spying, he is torn between love and loyalty. His duty is clear, but how can he bear to watch the woman he loves hang? “4 1/2 hearts…An incredibly sexy story, which was both fast paced and a speedy read. The story ended much too quickly and I would have loved to read more about this couple. The sex was explicit, but not offensive. There was much more to this story than just sex; the plot was wonderful. I think Ms. Lyndi Lamont has a winner!”—Brenda, The Romance Studio

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