Page 23 of Unearthing the Smuggler's Heart
"I couldn't say," she replied in barely a whisper.
He used his free hand to tilt her chin up, to search the depths of those big doll's eyes. "Do you want me to kiss you, Miss Ferris?"
She sucked in a delicate gasp of breath, her body frozen for just a moment, as though strapped in time. Then she nodded very, very slightly.
"Is that a yes?" he pressed, stroking the back of his finger down the column of her throat.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yes...?"
She began to say it, the word "Captain" already shaped on her sweet little mouth, but he could not wait a moment longer. He descended upon her like a bird of prey, claiming a prize he had not even realized he so badly wanted, taking days of uncertainty and frustration and incredulity and tasting the satisfaction of answering all three in one simple motion.
He walked her back just a step, until she was flush against the wall. He kept one hand balled in her hair, the other gripping her at the waist, pressing the length of his body into her. She would know now, he thought, just how much he wanted her. She would feel him, urgent and hard against her leg, while he indulged himself on the taste of her mouth, the hesitant opening of her mouth, the way she allowed his tongue to explore hers. He knew he should stop.
He didn't.
Not yet.
He stopped himself from pulling at her clothes, from taking liberties with the places his hands could travel. He pulled away to taste the hollow of her throat, to nip at the curve of her ear. "Do you like this, Miss Ferris?" he asked in a gust of warm breath at her ear.
She almost nodded again, her breath coming in ragged gulps, but some part of her remembered their little game. She had promised to answer. "Yes," she breathed, "Captain."
Her own hands had found their way to his chest, and seemed intent on their own exploration. She was not as forward as he, more hesitant in her touch, and he found it maddening. Yes, he could see how a young guard assigned to a house with this woman in it would find himself bewitched. He certainly would not trust himself to behave honorably in such a setting.
He wondered if it had gone farther than a kiss. He could ask, he realized. And she would tell him. She would tell him anything he wished to know.
Could any man stop himself at just kissing her? There were so many more pleasures so close at hand. He wondered what all that hair looked like against her naked body.
It was not the thump of footfalls overhead or even the voices of crewmen passing dangerously close to the cargo door that startled them apart. Instead, it was a rumble of thunder and a dull flash that resonated through the slats of light in the wood. They held tight to one another, but both of them tipped their heads up in answer to the call of stormy weather.
It was a call Mathias could not ignore, no matter how much he wanted to. With great pains, he untangled himself from Miss Ferris, sacrificing the delicious warmth of her body to the cool and empty air of duty.
She stayed pressed against the wall, her breath coming in pants, her hair in telling disarray from his ministrations, framing her wrinkled dress. It was a very inviting picture, even as she pressed her palms against the wall and began to steady herself, sliding back into the armored calm she always wore, with only wayward strands of hair and high color in her cheeks to give away that she might be anything but composed.
He could see past that armor now, he realized with a grin. He could see something he understood, finally, brimming beneath the enigmatic calm she showed the world.
"What are you smiling at?" She kept her eyes averted as she smoothed her skirts and bodice. Her tone was as cool and reproachful as a stern governess.
"I am just thinking about the next time," he said blithely. "You are going to let me do that again."
"Am I?" she replied, her expression unreadable as ever.
"Now, now, Miss Ferris," he teased, leaning forward and stealing one final kiss from her lips. "It is I who asks the questions, remember?"
CHAPTER10
Jade did not remember leaving the cargo hold.
She found herself walking across the deck as the storm approached, her footsteps falling in sharp, rapid succession. It was as though time had suspended itself above her head when that first crack of thunder sounded, and only came back down again when a large, cold drop of rain splashed into her cheek.
Suddenly there was sound and color around her, men milling about on the deck, dragging the rain catchers out and shouting to one another about ropes and sails and so on. The sky had darkened shockingly fast, with thick gray clouds curling into themselves overhead as the waves rose and crashed against the hull in anticipation of the coming melee.
She did not see the captain, but she thought she could hear him, calling out orders in the distance. It made her speed her pace, a sharp pang of something like panic pushing into her ribs. She had almost fully broken into a run by the time she reached the cabin, and so much was the relief when she finally swung herself into its safe confines that she could do nothing more than lean her full weight against the heavy oaken door, the knob still clutched in her hand. Her breaths came while her heart sped and sped.
Whathad just happened?
She blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the soft candlelit glow of the room. She released her hold on the doorknob and found her balance, issuing a stern inner command to pull herself together. Her knees wanted to go liquid. She wanted to crawl into the bed, squeeze her eyes shut, and relive the scene below deck over and over again. She wanted to forget it ever happened. She wanted to do it again and panic over her own stupidity.
