Page 45 of The Pirate Lord
Gideon returned his gaze to Sara, only to find her watching Queenie’s retreat with a murderous look. He chuckled. “You don’t like her, do you?”
Smoothing her hair back with one hand, she turned to walk away. “I have no feelings about her whatsoever. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain Horn …”
Her words died off as he caught her arm. Easily matching her stride, he goaded, “Aren’t you just a bit curious, Sara? Haven’t you the least interest in hearing how I found Queenie’s performance last night?”
“Absolutely not!” A crimson of flood spread over her cheeks. “Let me go!”
He slid one arm about her waist and bent to whisper, “Don’t you want to know what we did together? Whether I kissed her as I did you? Whether I fondled her breasts and the secret place between her legs?—”
“Stop it.” Her body trembled against his. “Stop saying these things!”
There was such misery on her face he couldn’t bear to torture her anymore. “I didn’t touch her, you know.” The admission left his lips before he could prevent it. “I sent her to Barnaby without so much as a kiss.”
She went very still. “I … I don’t care what you did with her. It’s nothing to me.” But he could tell she was lying from the relief in her voice.
“It was you I wanted. And it’s you I’ll have, no matter what I must do to get you.”
It was true. Last night had taught him one thing. He couldn’t stomach another woman in his bed when he wanted only Sara. He had to make love to her at least once, if just to get her out of his thoughts.
“You can’t have me. I’m promised to another.”
“Doesn’t matter.” During the long hours of aching for her last night, he’d decided that somehow he’d seduce her away from Hargraves. “You’re meant for me, not him. And one day soon, I’ll make you admit it.”
Chapter Thirteen
“O! how short a time does it take to put an end to a woman’s liberty!”
— FANNY BURNEY, ENGLISH NOVELIST,EARLY JOURNEYS AND LETTERS OF FANNY BURNEY
It took Sara only two hours of wandering the beaches of Atlantis Island to grudgingly admit that Gideon’s love of the place was justified. With every step she took, her half-boots sank into sands white and fine as marble dust. The air smelled fragrant and rich.
And the colors! Vivid pinks and brilliant yellows dotted the forest of willows and aging oaks. Barnaby had explained to her that although the island was in the tropics, the south trade winds and cold currents of the North Atlantic kept the temperature moderate, thus enabling orange and lemon groves to thrive alongside date palms and bamboo. According to Barnaby, winters were nearly non-existent and the summers mild.
That explained the lush flora, but what about the varied fauna? So far, she’d seen wild goats and rabbits roaming the higher promontories. Huge sea turtles waddled along the shores, and wherever she walked, she startled grouse and pheasants outof the brush and into the air. Were they all native to the island or brought here long ago by other hopeful colonists? What had made this bit of the world a paradise from end to end?
Well, there was the other part of the island—the dry, brown expanse they’d seen when they’d first approached. Barnaby had explained it was the result of a strange weather phenomenon. The same trade winds that made the island mild in climate also dried out the side of the island they blew constantly over. Since the unattractive side faced the trade route, it wasn’t surprising no one had bothered to settle there. When ships had been blown off course far enough to find Atlantis, they’d eyed it as an unlikely source of provisions and had sailed on by.
It was like some ancient Garden of Eden hidden away where no one could find it. No one but Gideon, that is. Trust him to be the one to stumble across it.
She glanced furtively down the beach to where he stood, wearing only his buff trousers and his belt with the saber slung from it. Stretching his arms up, he caught hold of a rounded cluster of yellow fruit hanging from what appeared to be an odd sort of palm tree with flat, waxy green leaves. A banana tree, they called it. She watched as he drew out his saber, then used it to sever the cluster from the tree in one lethal swipe.
As he twisted at the waist to lay the cut fruit in a cart already heaped high with the strange yellow crescents, his muscles flexed and worked, a fine sheen of sweat glistening off the black hair of his chest. At just that moment, he glanced her way, and his gaze caught hers. For a moment his eyes were rich and unfathomable, and she felt the force of his gaze like a sensuous whisper across her brow … her cheeks … her lips. A sudden, all too painfully familiar heat flashed over her, flaming into a blush. Mortified to be caught staring, she pivoted away, but not before glimpsing his slow, knowing grin.
Good heavens, the man was a danger to all womankind! She, of all people, should be immune, having known her share of criminals in the course of her reform work. Yet she was far from it.
Of all the people on God’s green earth, why must it be a notorious pirate captain who made her blush and go weak in the knees like some starry-eyed girl at her coming out? She’d always been too sensible for such infatuations, with the exception of Colonel Taylor, and even with him she hadn’t lost all common sense the way she had with Gideon.
Although she hurried down the beach away from him, she couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading from the most intimate portions of her body. Oh, yes, Gideon belonged in this Garden of Eden. He was as temptingly made as the first Adam must have been. In fact, she wondered if God hadn’t put just a jot too much effort into Gideon.
Although he should have given the man something more useful than good looks and a treacherous charm. Humility, for example. She tried to imagine a humble Gideon, but it was impossible. Such a creature would be beyond even the Almighty’s powers of imagination.
Spotting Louisa, who sat on a fallen log a few feet from where the beach ended and the brush began, Sara hurried to her friend’s side.
“What are you smiling about?” Louisa grumbled. “Don’t tell me, you’re already being seduced into liking this island.”
“Seduced” was a good word for it. “You must admit it’s not what you expected.”
“It’s exactly what I expected. Have you seen those huts? They’re the crudest buildings imaginable! No window shutters … plank floors … roofs of thatch. The only thing in their favor is the featherbeds, which do look comfortable, I’ll admit. But what else can you expect of pirates? Of course they would payattention to their beds. That’s all they care about. Men! I swear, the communal kitchen that Silas has been using is as primitive as?—”
