When his imagination gave out, James thought about Diana’s sweet-smelling hair, the honey between her thighs, the way her voice broke in the depths of passion. She had so much passion. Last night he’d only touched the surface. James wanted to dip down and find every bit of passion in her and bring it forth.
He did not mean to sleep. That was the danger in surrendering himself to this blissful woman. James was not even aware that he’d drifted off until he swam back out of slumber to fire-hot kisses warming his skin.
The thoughts that had sent James into the dreamless void had made his cock hard, and sleep hadn’t softened him.
He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the play of Diana’s lips on his body. Her long braid brushed his chest as her kisses moved across his breastbone.
He furrowed her hair. “Morning, Diana.”
Diana lifted her head. “I did not mean to wake you.”
James snaked out his arm and pulled her to him. “You mean you planned to ravish me while I was asleep?”
Her smile held pure wickedness. “Perhaps.”
“I’m sorry I woke up, then. Might have given me some pleasant dreams.”
“You did not look as though your dreams were particularly pleasant. You were frowning most fearsomely.”
“I suppose I’m worried about staying here.” James glanced at the window, which was just going gray.
“We could have slept under a hedgerow,” Diana said. She laid her head on his shoulder and traced the hollow of his throat. “Like outlaws.”
“That would have been wet and uncomfortable. And you wouldn’t have started kissing me.”
Diana’s hand moved to his chest. “Do you like me kissing you, then?”
“Yes. I do.”
She trailed kisses where her fingers had been, and then she kissed her way down to his abdomen and flicked her tongue across his navel.
“Mmm,” James said. “That’s dangerous.”
“You’ve always said I was a dangerous woman.” Diana licked the pale skin below his navel, which his breeches usually covered. Her long hair brushed his cock, which was begging for her if she’d only look.
James’s hands curled to fists as she continued to drop feather-light kisses across his skin. He’d reflected when he’d first met her that this woman could stir primal mating desires in a man. She was stirring it now, fire in his veins.
Diana continued kissing, down, down, down. Her breath brushed the tip of his wide-awake erection, and James jumped like she’d thrown hot soup on him.
She raised her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t really know how to pleasure you.”
She was actually blushing. This sweet, wild woman was stammering, and shy.
“You’re doing just fine,” James said, his voice cracking. “You do whatever you like. I’m sure it will be to my great pleasure.”
Diana smiled, a little triumphantly. “You truly want me.”
“I thought that was obvious.”
She looked shy again. “I mean that I desire you, and you desire me back. Things do not always work out that way.”
James’s heart pounded furiously, his blood molten. “Then we are fortunate.”
Diana’s hair brushed his cock again, silken and warm, like her fingertips. He was going to explode.
“I am pouring my heart out to you,” she said, her voice sounding far away. “You could at least pay attention.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” James’s entire attention was on her — her lips, her tongue, her scent. He’d turned into a raving beast about Diana Worthing. “I’m lying here trying to be gentlemanly. You’re killing me, Diana.”
“Why? What have I done?” She looked truly perplexed.
“Do you want me to stop being polite and gentlemanly?”
“If you let out what you honestly think, yes.”
James’s body tightened. “Be sure. You might not like it.”
“Why should I not like it?” She sounded as though she truly didn’t know.
“Ah, well,” he said. “Too late.”
Chapter Twenty-One
James seized Diana’s shoulders and shoved her down into the bed. The straw mattress crackled as they landed heavily, he on top of her. James caught one glimpse of her wide eyes, and then she was kissing him with fury, her hands coming up.
James tore at the hooks fastening her chemise. They gave way reluctantly, with much rending of fabric. He jerked the skirt upward, glad he’d thought to get rid of the interfering breeches. Even in the half-light, he could see the fiery red hair at her thighs, already damp with moisture.
“You want to taste my desire?” he asked. She murmured something, but he’d not really expected an answer. “Shouldn’t wish for things, darlin’. Might not like what you get.”
The night before had been nothing. Wildness flushed through his veins the like of which James had not felt in years. He’d not let himself go in a long, long time.
He pressed Diana’s thighs apart and lowered his mouth to her. She gasped aloud as his tongue entered her, her hips rising.
James did not bother to be gentle. His fingers pressed her flesh, thumbs stroking her to life while he caught her on his tongue. She tasted like the sweetest wine, and he drank her down.
Diana writhed on the bed, clutching the sheets. Her fingers again found his hair, and she was not gentle either.
James drank her, thrusting his tongue deeper into her. He felt her climax begin, the frantic pulsing around his mouth. She arched to him, breathing in shuddering gasps.
James lifted himself away, then repositioned himself and slid smoothly inside her. Diana’s arms came around him, pulling him to her, and their mouths found each other’s. James drove himself into her, the bed creaking and groaning.
“Diana.”
Her face twisted, eyes shut tight. Then Diana opened her eyes, dark blue and drunk with passion. “I love you so much, James,” she whispered.
Tears slid down her cheeks. James cried her name again as he spilled his seed deep inside her. Then, as his breath left him, he collapsed onto her and kissed away her tears.
*** *** ***
“Marry me, Diana.”
Diana jumped about a foot, but she kept her back to him, not trusting herself to turn and face him.
After their frenzied lovemaking had wound to silence last night, Diana had fallen into a dreamless slumber. When she’d woken, she’d been alone and the sun had been high.
She’d slid from the bed to found her disheveled clothes on the floor. James had torn off half the placket of the chemise, but she pulled it over her head and fastened it as best she could.
He’d not been gentle with Diana either, leaving small bruises on her upper arms and her thighs. But then, she imagined that James had bruises on his arms, and scratches all over his back. She’d not tried to control herself very much either.
When Diana had heard James walk in, calm as you please, she’d found she could not look at him.
“I brought some bread,” James said. “Not much breakfast but better than nothing.”
Diana absorbed herself in hooking together what remained of the placket and pulling on her bodice. “I must ask the landlord for a needle and thread. You might have been a little less, er, enthusiastic.”
Amusement filled his voice. “I remember you demanding I stop being a gentleman.” His laughter abruptly vanished. “Marry me, Diana.”
Diana sucked in a breath and couldn’t turn around. This was all so unreal — the exhausting journey here, Lieutenant Jack dying and waiting for them to bring help, Jessup dead. James could not really have just asked her to marry him. Or, rather, commanded her to marry him.
“You have not had enough sleep,” she said. “You are raving.”
“I admit I’m insane to want you as my wife, because you are the most exasperating woman I’ve ever met, but that’s not stopping me for some reason.”
Her heart thumped hard. “Do leave off for now. We have to get help to Lieuten
ant Jack.”
“You don’t have any choice, Diana. Sleeping with me these past two night isn’t exactly what a genteel lady of the upper classes should do, is it?”
Diana at last swung around. James stood near the fire, which flickered low. His voice had been light, but his eyes were still, waiting, watching, and his stance was tense.
“Everyone already believes me a most scandalous lady. They did even before I met you. Then I was spirited away by you and completely ruined. What did I get up to on that ship of yours, people wonder.”
“Ruin in the eyes of the world is different from ruin in the eyes of your father, or your daughter.”
Diana knew this in her heart. She’d been anxious not to let James leave Haven alone, fearing for his life and fearing the possibility that she’d never see him again. He was James Ardmore. Why should he risk his life to save an English lieutenant he barely knew? He might simply take the boat and depart, never to return.
She understood now that he’d had no intention of deserting them. James had known exactly where to go to find help for Lieutenant Jack. She felt a bit ashamed for doubting him.
Diana’s father might even understand why she’d impulsively followed James, but he already knew she’d become James’s lover. He’d known when she walked into the breakfast room yesterday to find James and her father talking about Charleston.
James said, “Let me do the gentlemanly thing for once in my life.”
“Let me understand what exactly you are offering. A true marriage in all ways? Or only in name so that I can live without scandal, in peace with my father? Live out my life on Haven while you run away hunting pirates or badgering English frigates?”
“If you like,” he said quietly.
Fear and loneliness fired her anger. “Well, I do not like! If I marry you, I want you near so that I can shout at you and nag you and kiss you whenever I wish. I want Isabeau to play with you and teach you her signs. I want you to be friends with my father and smoke those awful cheroots with him and swap stories. I do not want to marry your name, James. I do not love your name.”
Tears spilled from her eyes again, for the third time in as many days. Diana was tired of crying. She’d cried so seldom until she’d met the blasted man.
“You traveling with me would be a risk,” James said. “You know what happened to my brother’s family.”
“Well, you ought to have thought of that before you started ravishing me, hadn’t you? But will I be safe once everyone knows I’ve become Mrs. Ardmore? No doubt the Admiralty would love to interrogate me to discover where you were. Not that I’d ever tell them.”
“Maybe, but your father can protect you, and you’re left alone on Haven.”
She clenched her fists. “I will not be left behind, James. I am tired of being left behind.”
“I know you’ll do exactly what you please. I tried to leave you behind yesterday, and look what happened.”
“You were bloody stupid to try to go alone. Besides, you seemed happy to see me. You never tried to toss me overboard.”
His eyes glowed green. “I would dearly love to toss you overboard. You’d make such a satisfying splash.”
“You bloody heroes are all the same. I am tired of heroes. Tired of applauding their deeds while I am left alone. I am so damned tired of being alone.”
James brought both fists down on the rickety table. Crockery danced and the bread quivered on the plate. “Damn you, Diana, you are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met. I shouldn’t have abducted you, I should have run the other way.”
She barely heard him. “I want a dull man, one who stays home and talks to me, and does not do anything in the least exciting.”
“The hell you do. The only reason you like me is because I am dangerous. Because I abducted you. You didn’t want me to be a dull gentleman earlier this morning. Begged me not to be, as I recall.”
“You arrogant . . .” She snatched up the loaf of bread.
“Diana, don’t you dare throw that at me. You’ll pay worse than you can ever imagine.”
She could imagine quite a bit. If he would do anything like he’d done last night . . . Diana’s blood tingled in anticipation.
She drew back her arm and took in a breath, ready to shout her exasperation at him, but she heard footsteps on the stairs.
Not just footsteps. The ringing sound of many, booted feet.
Diana dropped the bread loaf, which spun away across the table. James was already moving. The room had only one window, and it was high up in the wall, above the bed. James grabbed Diana and shoved her at it.
“Get through,” he said in a rush. “Go to Plymouth. Find someone who knows your father.”
He boosted her upward. “What about the friend you talked to last night?”
“Looks like he betrayed me. Grab the sill. You can climb down, I’ve seen you climb.”
Diana reached for the shutter. Too late. The door burst open. Seven English marines in bright red uniforms ran in and pointed seven muskets straight at James.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Diana slid back down the wall, the rough surface scraping her fingertips.
James unsheathed his knife, dragged Diana around in front of him, and touched the cold point of the blade to her throat.
“Gentlemen,” he said in his most drawn-out drawl. “This lady is the daughter of Admiral Lockwood, a prominent member of your navy. I don’t think you want to have to explain to him why she’s dead.”
A blue uniformed man walked in and halted in front of the marines, who hadn’t moved. Diana recognized him. He was Francis Carter, a captain much admired by Edward Worthing, who’d regarded Captain Carter as a mentor and a friend.
“Let her go, Ardmore,” the captain said, voice cold.
“There’s too many muskets pointed at me for that.”
Carter’s gaze flicked up and down Diana, taking in her torn placket and disheveled hair. “I see you’ve already helped yourself to her. One more thing you will pay for.”
“Why don’t you let me take her back to her papa? Less messy all around, eh, Captain?”
Diana had no need to feign terror. James could not keep hold of her forever, and as soon as he let her go, those muskets would fire. Seven of them. So many shots for one man.
“Let her go,” the captain repeated.
“Easier on me if I don’t.”
Carter’s mouth hardened. “If you believe I would not let my marines shoot through her to get to you, you are mistaken.” He gave Diana a cool look. “It would be most regrettable, of course, Lady Worthing.”
James went silent, his breath hot in her ear. Diana saw in Captain Carter’s eyes that he would do exactly as he said. He’d let his men shoot, and then she and James would die together. Romantic, perhaps, but Diana had never been fond of romantic tragedies.
A few more heartbeats passed, then James removed the knife from Diana’s throat. He shoved her away from him hard enough that she stumbled out of the path of the guns.
The marines’ fingers tightened on triggers.
“No!” Diana flung herself between James and those terrible, round openings, her arms outstretched.
“Damn it, Diana, get out of the way.”
“I’ve come from my father,” Diana babbled at Carter. “We need a surgeon, on Haven. A man is dying there. Please.”
Carter’s eyes narrowed. He looked Diana up and down again, then his gaze moved behind her. She saw him assess and understand the true situation. “Drop the knife, Ardmore. Or my marines open fire, and she dies.”
Another heartbeat of silence, then a steely clatter on the floor. Diana’s limbs went watery with fear.
Carter held out a hand. “I need you to come with me, Lady Worthing.” He gave a curt nod to his marines. “Take him.”
“No!” Diana cried.
But the seven marines shoved Diana rudely aside, and she could only watch in helpless fear and anger as they converged on James and beat him down.
r /> *** *** ***
James was growing used to being chained to the deck of a frigate. The manacles that enclosed his wrists and ankles and the chain that bound him to the rail were little different from those used by the last English captain who’d had held him captive. British officers had no imagination.
Carter’s men had stripped James of his coat and boots, and taken away his knife and everything in his pockets. James had let them.
The marines had given him the opportunity to get away no less than three times, though they didn’t know it, but James had not taken them. Carter had Diana, and James did not like to think about what Carter would do to her if James escaped. Captain Carter knew damn well who Diana was, and that she’d succumbed to James, and the look in his eyes when he regarded her held no respect.
Diana, the stubborn woman, was still arguing with Carter as though he’d listen to her. “We must return to Haven. A man’s life depends upon it.” Diana’s eyes glittered with her fervor.
Whether Carter believed her story was open to question. Diana had told him everything about Lieutenant Jack — how he’d been saved by James, the two of them washing up on Haven’s shore, then Jack falling gravely ill yesterday morning, hence her errand. Carter listened but made no move to hoist sail and make a run for Haven.
Diana followed Carter across the deck toward James, her footsteps clicking in her hard-soled boots. Carter stopped in front of James and looked him over in a satisfied way.
Impervious, Diana went on as though she were a royal princess and Carter a disobedient servant. “Captain Ardmore risked his life to help the lieutenant. Twice. There is no need to hold him captive.”
“Yes, I heard about the wreck of the Constantine,” Carter said. “Strange, is it not, how Ardmore got away when so many other lives were lost? Like as not he caused the wreck in the first place. Saving the lieutenant was either an arbitrary impulse, or the man was a fellow conspirator.”
“How can you think that?” Diana asked hotly.
James drawled, “No, thank him, Lady Worthing. He’s giving me divine powers now. I must have caused that storm, wrecked a whole frigate, and got away, all the while manacled to the deck.”