Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
My throat convulsed.
“It was attached to a tavern, and that’s where I saw him—sitting alone, staring into a tankard of ale, while his crew of scoundrels spent their coin on painted women.”
“Did you know who he was?”
“Indeed. Everyone knew. The island was more or less overrun by pirates at the time, and I was but one English soldier among dozens of rogues in that tavern.”
“What did you do?”
“I sat beside him at the bar.” His lips twitched. “And he bought me a drink.”
My heart swelled, and a tingling burn rose to my eyes. “Did you talk to him?”
“No. We sat in silence, just two sailors enjoying their drinks.” He brushed a curl from my face. “Women approached him, doxies and ladies alike, and he turned them all away. He wasn’t there for that.”
“He loved my mother.”
“And his daughter.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, my lips. “Time to close your eyes.”
As I drifted to sleep, his sensual smile was the last thing I saw.
When I woke later that afternoon, it was the first thing that filled my vision. He lay beside me in the position, as if he’d never moved.
“What are you doing?” I yawned, stretching my lovingly abused body.
“My second favorite activity.”
“Watching me sleep?”
“Yes.” The delicious curve of his lips deepened as he rolled on top of me, both of us nude, and wedged my legs open with his hips.
“What’s your first favorite activity?”
He reached between us and parted the dampening folds between my thighs with the head of his erection. Then he slowly sank inside, showing me what he favored above all else.
We didn’t leave his private quarters for the next two days. We ate, bathed, slept. And fucked. Made love. Hard and soft, sluggish and rabid, lazy and impassioned. In every position, bottom and top, fore and aft. In the bed, on the chairs, over the rail, against the walls, on the floor—if the surface was strong enough to support us, we broke it in.
We were so caught up in each other, we lost time, lost our bearings, lost our sense of the end. In the back of my mind, I knew it was coming. New Providence couldn’t have been more than a day’s journey away.
I’d been on this ship for twelve days. Long enough for Priest to seize a fast sloop, take over its command, and catch up to HMS Blitz.
I knew in my bones that he was close. I also knew it was time to press Ashley about what needed to happen next. Whatever that was. I didn’t have a plan, and that terrified me.
We’d begrudgingly dressed that morning, knowing a third day secluded away in his private quarters would raise suspicion.
Sitting on his lap, I finished a quiet breakfast with him, my belly filled with clam fritters and sour milk biscuits with blackberry preserves. I set down my napkin and pulled in a bracing breath.
“Ashley…” I shifted on his hard thighs and met his stunning eyes. “We need to…”
His lips twitched, his gaze dipping. “You have…some…” He slid a finger along the corner of my mouth. “Preserves.” The finger went into his mouth, and he licked it clean, casting me an innocent grin. “What?”
I was going to say something, something important, but my brain broke.
“Sugary sweet.” He was still staring at my lips. “Addictive.”
Then he put his grin there and kissed me senseless. I twined my fingers in his hair and yielded beneath his irresistible mouth. How could I do otherwise? I’d been collecting his smiles for two days. Smiles he gave to me and no one else. Each one made me feel like anything was possible.
Until an urgent knock pounded on the door.
“Lord Cutler?” Sergeant Smithley called from the other side. “Lieutenant Wallers is here with urgent news.”
My pulse exploded. Was it news of an approaching sloop? Had Priest been spotted?
Ashley stood abruptly, holding onto my waist until I found my feet. He gave my gown a quick inspection, ran a hand through his hair, and turned toward the door.
Shoulders squared, hands folded at his back, feet braced apart, expression blank—the transformation of his demeanor completely rebuilt him from top to bottom in less than a second. I’d forgotten what this fine-mannered commodore looked like. And felt like. His severe presence choked the air.
“Enter, Lieutenant.” His aristocratic voice made me shudder.
An older man in a white periwig stepped in and clapped a hand to his wrinkled brow. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning, Lieutenant. What news do you bring?”
“A ship approaches off the larboard bow.”
I drew in a quick, silent breath and gripped the top rail of the chair beside me.
“One of ours.” Wallers lowered his hand. “A command flag flies at the fore-topgallant masthead.”
“Which command flag?”
“Admiral of the White Squadron, my lord.”
“Sir John Dycker.” Ashley’s fingers twitched at his side.
“Who?” I asked quietly.
He pretended not to hear me as he collected his blue frock and shrugged it on. “Prepare to receive him and his lieutenants.”