Panting, Alex tore her mouth from his, pushing herself up and away from him. She saw the question in his darkened eyes and answered it.
“I want to love you, too,” she whispered. Before he could answer, she lowered her mouth to the hollow at the base of his throat, tasting the salt of his sweat, then defined his magnificent body inch by inch with her seeking mouth. She lapped lightly at each male nipple and heard him gasp with pleasure. Slowly, gracefully, she moved down, nipping gently at the taut planes of his abdomen, the powerful muscles of his thighs. She raised her head.
Drake was watching her, his breathing suspended for the seconds that passed before she acted. Then, with a siren’s smile she lowered her head and ran her tongue slowly, lingeringly, over his throbbing manhood. Drake called out her name, his whole body heightened to the very brink of sensation.
Alex was fascinated by his maleness, by his very size and potency. She wrapped her small hand around him, caressed him tenderly, then lowered her head again to explore the very essence of his masculinity. He was rock hard, yet satin smooth, and so very hot to the touch. Lightly she stroked her tongue up to the velvety tip, licking off the droplet of fluid that she found there. In one savage motion Drake reached down and pulled her off him, rolling her to her back.
Alex stared up at him, startled and unsure. “Drake?”
He parted her legs with his knees, desperately, frantically. “I’ve got to have you now,” he gasped. “This minute … right now.” He entered her in one violent thrust. Alex arched her hips, bringing him deeper, feeling the wildness take over as he filled her, stretched her delicate flesh to take all of him. Drake slid his hands beneath her, lifting her to meet the frenzied pounding of his body, claiming her enveloping softness again and again.
“Alex … oh, Alex.” He couldn’t seem to stop saying her name. He found her mouth with his, kissed her urgently, the primitive motions of his tongue matching those of his body. She met his tongue, his body, thrust for thrust, whimpering his name as he went even deeper, took her higher than she’d ever gone before. She lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist, and clung to him as they moved toward the pulsing release that hovered just a split second away.
And then it was upon her, unbearable in its intensity. Alex tore her mouth from Drake’s and cried out, skyrockets of sensation bursting through the very core of her being. And the words were torn from her, along with her heart and her soul, and she could no more have stopped them from being said than she could have stopped herself from feeling them.
“Drake … I love you!” she gasped. “I love you!”
She felt him reach a pinnacle of sensation. His body jolted as he poured himself into her in bursts of release that tore through him and flowed to her in a moment that seemed to hold them captive forever.
She never knew if he had heard her declaration of love, for that night there were no more words, only the union of husband and wife, as Drake conveyed to Alex again and again with his body what he felt in his heart.
Chapter 19
ALEX STIRRED, THE FAMILIAR sound of twittering birds rousing her from sleep. She was locked in Drake’s arms, just the way she had fallen asleep.
How many times had he made love to her? She had lost count, but each time their bodies joined, the unnamed emotion that was between them seemed to grow more powerful, more meaningful.
He had never said he loved her. Somehow Alex had known not to expect the words. But she knew she had reached him, touched something inside him, despite whatever emotional scars he bore that kept him from her. It was a start … a fragile, wonderful beginning.
She squirmed out of his embrace and ran into the morning sunshine. Happily, she stretched her arms over her head and inhaled the sweet air. Another day in paradise.
First she would search for their breakfast. Then she would help Drake work on the raft until she became restless. By midday she would be off exploring the numerous gifts that nature offered on their island. In truth, she hoped it would take Drake years to complete the makeshift boat that would enable them to make their way to the Canadian shore. Civilization seemed less and less appealing as the days went on.
She donned her newly washed chemise and headed for the water. She approached cautiously after assuring herself that no American ships were in the vicinity. The river was quiet, with just a few small boats cruising past, and she sighed with relief. Ofttimes it was different. She and Drake would conceal themselves, holding their breath, as an American ship passed by. At times like this they were grateful for their island’s somewhat secluded location, which helped to ensure their safety.
Alex stepped gingerly into the river, finding the water frigid, yet somehow exhilarating. She waded in up to her thighs, then cupped her hands and splashed water on her face, as part of what had become her morning ritual since she had gotten well.
She was just about to return to the shore and begin berry-picking when she spied a sudden movement. Curious, she paused, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand and searching for the source of the motion. In less than a minute she found it.
Clinging to a large piece of driftwood, looking soggy and pathetic and adorable, was a puppy. With a gasp of surprise, Alex waded farther out toward the log that served as the pup’s lifeboat, He was just out of her reach, being carried further away by the current. Without thinking, Alex lunged forward, wrapping her hand around the shaking pup just as she lost her footing and plunged full-length into the icy depths of the river.
Drake had just awakened when he heard her scream. He was on his feet, pulling on his breeches, and heading toward the shore all at once.
“Alex!” he shouted, gripped with fear as he saw her thrashing about in the river. “I’m coming, love!”
He took off at a dead run, his heart pounding, and prepared to dive in after her. He came to a grinding halt as his dripping wife reached the sand, laughing and clutching a squirming brown object in her arms.
“Drake, look!” she laughed, oblivious to the stark terror on his face that was rapidly turning into blinding rage. “A puppy!”
“Do you have any idea how frightened I just was?” he thundered back at her. “I thought you were drowning again!”
Alex looked startled, then giggled. “Of course not! I really am quite a good swimmer when I’m not suffering from a concussion, you know.”
Drake wanted to throttle her, but she looked so damned appealing standing there like a wet sea nymph clutching the bewildered puppy, that he gave it up. He was just going to have to get used to living with an unpredictable tornado.
He grinned in spite of himself as he walked over to her, reaching out to scratch the dog’s ears. “Rather sad looking, is he not?”
“He was close to drowning!” Alex defended. “I found him clinging to a piece of driftwood!”
“Yes, well, he probably survived a naval battle that resulted in the destruction of his captain’s ship. Apparently you saved his scrawny life, princess.”
Alex inspected the shivering pup and frowned. “He is thin. And cold. I have an idea!” She brightened. “You catch a fish for him to eat and I’ll warm him in the sun!”
“I’ll what?”
She gave him a beseeching look. “Please, Drake, he must be starving.”
Drake shook his dark head and started toward the water. “Why do I know I am going to regret this?” He turned back, rather enjoying the protective way Alex cradled the puppy to her own wet body. “You are one lucky dog.” He paused. “What are you going to call your new pet, wife?”
Alex chewed her lip thoughtfully, staring down into the warm brown eyes that now looked up at her adoringly. When he was dry, he would be quite the thing. He was lean and long-limbed, all golden brown but for a thatch of black fur beneath his chin. He looked like a handsome rogue. Just like …
“I have it!” she informed her husband. “I shall name him Blackbeard. He resembles you, Drake, a strong, gentle pirate.” She gave a gaping Drake a dazzling smile. “Now I have
two pirates on my island rather than one!”
Drake watched Alex scurry onto the sun-drenched beach, placing a willing and eager-to-please Blackbeard beside her on the sand. He smiled as the puppy snuggled against Alex and licked her face. Turning, Drake waded out to begin his quest for Blackbeard’s meal.
“No, Blackbeard! Come back here with that blasted thing!”
Drake looked up from the tedium of his raft-building in time to see the frisky pup bound past him, Alex’s chemise held fast between his teeth. Alex tore after him, lifting the bottom of Drake’s shirt, which flapped about her knees and impeded her progress. Her golden hair flew out around her, her indecently exposed legs glowed with a newly acquired tan. Her concentration was fierce as she made her way through the trees and followed Blackbeard toward the water.
“You miserable wretch!” she shouted. “Give me back my clothing!”
Drake leaned back on his haunches and, seeing that no ships threatened nearby, grinned. Quite a sight indeed. Blackbeard, who in less than two weeks had become the apple of Alex’s eye, had apparently fallen into disfavor with his benevolent mistress. Laughter rumbled deep in Drake’s chest as he watched Alex catch up with her pet and begin a fervent tug-of-war to regain control of her undergarment.
In all his two and thirty years he had never felt as carefree as he had these past weeks. Alex filled his days with laughter, his heart with tenderness, his life with meaning, and his nights with passion. Unable to put words to the growing feeling inside him, Drake instead made love to her with an urgency that grew more and more frenzied as the days progressed. He couldn’t seem to possess his wife totally or frequently enough to satisfy his bottomless craving for her. Some nights the first golden rays of dawn were already filtering down from the skies before he would let her sleep. And even then he would keep her to him, still deep inside her, joined to her even in slumber.
Each night she told him that she loved him. He had heard those words uttered countless times from women in the throes of passion and had dismissed them as meaningless. Until Alex. When she pressed her perfect body against him, shuddering with her climax, and whispered those words against his skin, he felt the queerest emotion surge in his chest. And he knew that, despite his past and the bitterness that it held, he wanted to believe she meant them.
A joyous bark broke into his thoughts. Alex and Black-beard were now wrestling playfully in the shallow waves. Alex looked about her, then seized a long, thin stick and tossed it onto the shore.
“Fetch, Blackbeard!” she commanded.
Ever eager to please, the puppy dropped the wrinkled chemise and bolted, returning instantly, his tail waving with triumph, the stick between his teeth.
“I suppose you are waiting for praise!” Alex glared at him, trying, unsuccessfully to smooth out her undergarment.
The happy pup dropped his stick at her feet and gave her a hopeful look.
She melted, dropping onto her knees on the sand beside him. “Very well, I shall forgive you,” she conceded, hugging his soft golden fur. “Although I don’t know why. You are more trouble than any mongrel is worth.”
Blackbeard yipped his protest at the slanderous remark.
“I am sorry if it offends you, but it happens to be the truth,” she retorted. “I know you believe yourself to be a retriever of impeccable pedigree, and I do agree that there is much retriever blood in you, but your markings”—she stroked his soft black beard—”tell me that your parentage is questionable.” She stroked his silky head. “But your heart is pure, and that is what matters, not your blood.” With that she stood and released the pup, who took off eagerly into the woods.
Drake’s breath caught in his throat as Alex, unaware that she was being observed, unbuttoned the shirt, which she rarely wore anymore, and tossed it onto the sand, then pulled the chemise over her head and let it flow along the contours of her body.
For a fleeting moment Drake contemplated shedding his breeches and actually taking Alex right there in the water. But another glance at the raft beside him brought him to his senses. As much as he wanted to give in to the excruciating pleasure of ravishing his wife’s lush body, he could no longer put off this inevitable conversation.
He walked behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist. “Hello, wife,” he whispered into her tangled hair. “Do you think you can part with that sorry excuse for a dog for just a moment? We need to talk.”
Despite his teasing words, Alex heard the seriousness of his tone. She turned, met his gaze, and nodded. Hand in hand they walked away from the shore until they reached the spot where the raft lay, symbolizing their imminent departure.
“It is almost completed,” Drake said quietly.
“I know.” Alex’s voice was devoid of emotion. “And my head is totally healed. After all, it has been nearly a month since my accident.”
Drake caressed her with his eyes. “It seems, princess, that our time in paradise is coming to an end.” His words hung heavily in the air. Finally, and with gentle understanding, he drew her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “We should go back to the shelter,” he suggested tenderly. “It is not wise to stay out in the open for this length of time.”
Alex watched him stride back to the river’s edge to collect the shirt she had discarded. He was the most magnificent of men; his taut, muscular body and strong, chiseled features never failed to make her pulse flutter. And, here, he was hers.
The future and all its uncertainties loomed ahead. Would they succeed in reaching Canada alive, and if they did, what fate awaited them? Their old lives had been snatched away from them. Yet here on their island they had been able to live as husband and wife, with all life’s harsh realities held in abeyance. Would it be possible, in spite of then-drastic differences, to build a new life together?
She honestly didn’t know.
Drake lay awake far into the night, staring at the wooden roof of their lean-to. Beneath that crude and hastily constructed roof Drake had experienced a happiness and contentment that had been denied to him beneath the palatial, gilded ceilings of Allonshire. And now he would return to that austere world, to make a customary visit prior to another trip at sea.
If all went well, he and Alex would soon arrive safely in British territory. Then they would make their way to Kingston, where he could acquire another ship for their journey back to England … to Allonshire. The thought made him ill.
He sighed, shifting his weight on the soft grass. The movement disturbed Alex, and she mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep and snuggled closer against her husband’s warmth, her hair draped across his chest. Drake smiled tenderly. Who would believe that this tiny, utterly innocent-looking angel had been an abandoned tigress beneath him less than an hour past? He had felt her urgency, understood it, and shared it. Their time alone together was growing short.
He had to tell her. He loathed the thought. He was a damned nobleman, heir to a dukedom, wealthier than hell— everything she had tried to escape. Perhaps she would understand that he, in his deception, was also trying to escape the rigid confines of the way of life they both abhorred.
But he had lied to her. And that she would never forgive.
He tightened his arms around her possessively. She was his. She would stay his, no matter what lay ahead. Alexandria Cassel Barrett was his wife.
It was the barking that awakened them.
“Drake?” Alex’s voice was a sleepy question.
“Obviously Blackbeard has decided to begin his day at dawn,” he grumbled back, drawing her against him. She felt so damned good—except that she was squirming to free herself.
“He never barks like that … so frantically,” she said in a worried voice. “Perhaps I should see what the problem is.” She paused. “Well?” she demanded. “Aren’t you even a little curious?”
He groaned. “You wore me out last night, princess. I need to regain my strength.”
Alex’s eyes twinkled. “Very well. I shall investigate on my own.” She
shrugged into Drake’s shirt and made her way through the trees toward the persistent sound of Blackbeard’s bark. At the clearing she stopped short. “My God. A ship.” Panic surged through her as she realized the danger they were in. She hurried forward before the ship was close enough to see her, snatched the long-limbed puppy in her arms, and raced back to their shelter.
“Drake!” Her voice was shaking.
He sat up immediately. “Love, what is it?”
“A ship. And it’s very close to shore.” She stared at him, terror in her eyes. “Do you think they’ve spotted us?”
“I don’t know.” He had already donned his breeches. “We must stay out of sight.”
They both held their breath and waited. The ship was close, very close. They could actually hear the movement of the water beneath its hull. Blackbeard whined and struggled in Alex’s arms.
“Stay still!” she ordered, holding him tighter.
The pup, who was accustomed to only the gentlest of treatment from his beloved mistress, gave a sharp bark of protest, then tore himself from her arms.
“Blackbeard, come back!” Alex was halfway out of the lean-to before Drake yanked her back in.
“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded. “You are not going out there!”
Alex looked up at him with frightened eyes. “But they’ll see him. He could get hurt”
“That is still no reason to risk your life.”
“But if the Americans see Blackbeard they’ll suspect that there are people here as well,” she protested weakly.
“That’s a chance we will just have to take.” He released her arm, convinced that she wouldn’t dare defy him.