Page 61 of The Pirate Lord
“No,” she interrupted. “That’s not what I want.”
“It ain’t that I don’t think you deserve it,” he went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “Iknowyou deserve it. You deserve a whole man?—”
“Stop it!” She flew to his side. “Don’t say such nonsense! Youarea whole man! You happen to be missing a leg, but that doesn’t mean anything.” When he looked at her, startled by the passion in her voice, she added, “Not to me.”
His eyes narrowed as he stroked his beard. “What’re you saying, lass? You got to speak plain with me, because I ain’t good at guessin’ what a woman’s thinkin’. That’s one thing I learned from me wife.”
Louisa paused a moment. What was she saying? That it didn’t matter if he touched her and held her? That she might even like it?
Oh, she was so confused. She’d sworn after the last time Harry had forced himself on her that she would never let a man touch her again. She’d driven that kitchen knife through his leg, hoping to hit something else, and for her pains, she’d gotten fourteen years transportation.
But Silas was so different from Harry. Although both men were arrogant, Harry’s arrogance had stemmed from a belief that everybody was put on this earth to serve him. He would never have said she deserved someone gentle. He’d always thought she should be proud that he saw fit to rape her once a week.
Silas’s arrogance, on the other hand, was a defense much like hers. It was a way to keep the men from laughing at him for his wife’s cuckolding him. She knew what it was like to use pride and scorn as a defense. Pride and scorn had seen her through her trial. They’d seen her through this capture. No one seemed to understand that the way Silas apparently did.
But was his understanding enough? If he did “haul her into his arms,” would she feel as if she wanted to die, the way she’d felt when Harry had jerked up her skirts and thrust himself into her?
There was only one way to find out. “I think I’m saying . . .” She halted, not sure how to put it. “I mean, IknowI’m saying . . . that if I have to choose a husband, I would rather it be you than anyone else.”
“Even after what I told you? Because you got to understand, I can’t live in the same house with you and not touch you.” His voice grew rumbling and deep, striking her with both fear and excitement. “I want to make love to you, lass. I don’t want none of them other women, so if it ain’t you, then I’ll just go on as before. But if I marry you, I can’t promise not to touch you.”
“Then don’t promise it,” she said, surprising even herself. Stepping up to him, she laid her hands on his arms. They were strong arms, strong enough to break her in two, to take her by force . . . to hurt her badly. Yet she could feel them tremble beneath her fingers, and that eased her fears. Surely a man who could tremble at her touch wouldn’t hurt her. Would he?
She lifted her face to his, her courage nearly failing her when she saw the blatant desire in his eyes. The only thing that kept her from racing out of that cottage was the fact that he hadn’t grabbed at her . . . not yet anyway.
“I want to try, Silas. With you. No matter what you say, I trust you not to hurt me. You won’t, will you?”
“Never.” His hands crept up to rest lightly on her waist. “But if you stand this near me for a minute longer, I swear I’m gonna kiss you.”
Her breath quickened despite all her fears. “All right.”
He looked at her as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What did you say?”
“Kiss me, Silas.”
She didn’t have to ask again. He wasted no time in getting right to it. And as his mouth met hers, she forgot all about Harry, the heir to the Dorchester dukedom. She forgot about prison and her trial and the capture. All she could think was that Silas the grumbler kissed like something from the great beyond. And she’d been long overdue for a taste of such heaven.
The kiss grew long and deep and hard, yet she found herself clinging to his vest and pressing her body against his. It was onlywhen she felt his erection that she jerked back, the ancient fear welling up in her again.
But he was smiling now, an unusual thing indeed for Silas. “Don’t fret it, love. I don’t expect you to throw yourself into me arms with grand abandon so soon. But now that I know you can tolerate my kissin’, I know the rest will come.”
“Are you sure?” Why was her breath suddenly stuck way down in her lungs? And why did she already want him to kiss her again? “I-I thrust a kitchen knife in the leg of the last man who . . . lay with me.”
Silas’s smile faded. “Did he deserve it?”
“In my opinion, he did,” she said emphatically. She couldn’t even look at him. “He . . . he took me against my will many times.”
His fingers tightened on her waist. “Aye, he deserved it then. He deserved that and more.” His eyes were solemn as he tipped up her chin until she was looking at him. “And if ever I deserve it, you thrust a knife in my leg, too. I’ll even let you ruin me good leg, if that’s what it takes to have you as me wife.”
His words were so sweet, so dear, that tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Silas,” she said, throwing her arms about his neck, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Aye, you do.” He tugged her close, resting his chin on top of her head. “The man who made you think so poorly of yerself was a bastard, but one day you’ll tell me all about him so I can make you forget his treachery once and for all. Then we’ll go on. Together. We’ll make babies, and we’ll be happy, and the devil take anybody who tries to stop us.”
Yes, my love, she thought as he raised her head for another heated kiss.Yes, oh, yes.
Chapter Seventeen
A little alarm now and then keeps life from stagnation.
