Page 51 of A Rake's Revenge
As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light of several gimbaled oil lamps, Caroline realized the interior was more spacious than she’d thought. Behind the steps was a storage area and netted wood slats that were probably sleeping quarters for crew. Immediately to her right was a chart table, littered with maps and scribbled notes as to wind and sea conditions. To her left was a galley with an icebox and a copper basin set in a wooden box that served as a sink. Several covered chafing dishes—that smelled deliciously of pureed soup, fish and fowl, and savory puddings—took up the space on a small counter.
The midsection of the boat boasted a long bunk to one side and two padded benches with a table bolted to the floor on the other side. Forward of that, a hanging closet sat to the right and a closed door to what she assumed was a privy area to the left. Beyond that, taking up all the space in the bow, was a bed piled high with pillows and feather comforters. It looked…enticing.
A thought flitted through her mind. What would it be like to make love in that cozy interior with the lulling movement of the boat? Instantly, an image sprang into her mind as well. The boat rocking beneath her while Stephan loomed over her body, thrusting inside her to the rhythm of the boat. She wondered if it was something the Midnight Marauder might do as well.
Caroline tore her gaze away, hoping the lighting wouldn’t show the bright shade of red she knew her face must be. And what was she doing, thinking oftwomen at the same time? She knew the masked marauder was a silly fantasy. The man kissed women and then moved on. That’s what hedid. She’d never heard of him accosting—if that was the right term for something so sensuous—the same girl twice. Besides, wantingtwomen was beyond scandalous, even to her rather jaded senses.
“Is Brice going to join us?” she asked, hoping to take her mind off that strange, inviting boudoir in the bow.
“Not if he knows what is good for him,” Stephan answered. “He will be standing guard in the cockpit.”
“Standing guard?” She thought she saw a flicker of…something…in Stephan’s eyes and then it was gone.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I do not want Tisdale sneaking up on us.”
The earl’s name had the effect of a cold bucket of seawater being dumped over her. “I need to tell you something about Lord Tisdale.”
Stephan paused as he was about to lift the lid to one of the chafing dishes and studied her. “What would that be?”
“He thinks you have something to do with the pirate raids.”
Stephan lowered his hand and stepped around the small counter, his face pensive. He gestured for Caroline to have a seat on one of the benches, then poured a brandy for himself and started to pour a glass of sherry for her when she stopped him. “I prefer brandy.”
Stephan nodded and poured some for her, then set the bottle on the table and took a seat beside her. “What makes Tisdale think that?”
Caroline told Stephan what the earl had said, leaving out the part about marrying her. “I know this is absurd. I do not believe it any more than I did the rumors about your brother’s drowning.”
Stephan finished the contents of his snifter, the pensive expression back. “I am sorry,” Caroline said. “I did not mean to bring up bad memories.”
“It is not that,” Stephan replied and picked up the brandy bottle to refill their glasses.
“Even though it is not true, I still did not like the look on Lord Tisdale’s face nor the sound of his voice,” Caroline said as she took another sip. “I think he really hates you.”
Stephan gave her a crooked smile. “Well, I did challenge him for your hand in marriage.”
“And I am grateful,” Caroline answered, “but if the earl is going to try and implicate you in piracy because of this charade—”
“Charade?” Stephan’s eyes grew even darker. “Is this really a charade for you?”
Well…yes,” Caroline answered, feeling somewhat confused. She wasn’t sure if was because of Stephan’s unsettled expression or the fact that really good French brandy was having its effect. “I mean, I know you agreed to help me, and you have done an excellent job, but I do not expect you actually to go through with it. That was not part of the bargain. More importantly, though, since the earl wants to spread rumors, I do not want to get you into trouble—”
“Trouble?” Stephan asked and put down his brandy. “Trouble? I think it is a bit too late to worry about that. This…” He took her glass out of her hands and set it down. “Thisis trouble.”
Before Caroline could glean what he meant from that remark, he’d moved closer. One of his hands cupped the back of her head while the thumb of the other nudged her chin, tilting her face up. His lips brushed against hers, light as a zephyr breeze. He paused, giving her a chance to pull away, and then swept his lips across hers again, more firmly this time. Caroline’s startled gasp gave him the opportunity to trace the open seam of her mouth with his tongue. Smooth and warm and wet, tasting of brandy, it glided in and out in slow, leisurely strokes that felt like silky caresses. Caroline flattened her hands against Stephan’s hard chest, but she didn’t push away. What he was doing felt too good. Instead, she raised her arms so she could tangle her fingers in his hair and sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth. Someone moaned, but she wasn’t sure if it was him or her.
A sharp rapping on the hatch cover broke the reverie. Stephan pulled away with a muttered curse. “Barclay, this had better be good.”
Brice’s face appeared at the top of the companionway. “We have visitors. You had better come up.”
Stephan bolted up the few steps to find Caroline’s father standing on the finger pier and Tisdale about to board his boat.
“You do not have permission to come aboard,” Stephan said, stepping out on the deck.
“What difference does that make?” Tisdale snarled.
Brice joined Stephan, effectively blocking the earl’s way. “If you were actually a seaman you would know. Permission is always asked to board a vessel.”
“I do not need permission when you have my intended bride hidden away.”
