Read 193356377X-Savage-Shores-Wildes Online
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wasn’t quite sure whether to be insulted or to shout with laughter
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over being taken as a local heathen. Next to him, Jenna spoke first
since she was the one apparently being addressed, saying
demurely, “Jonathan, shouldn’t you tell them English would work
better. I can’t understand a word he’s saying.”
“For you,” he responded gallantly, “anything, my dear.
Captain, the lady requests our ensuing conversation be in our
native tongue, if you don’t mind.”
The expression on the face of each man in the party was so
thunderstruck it was comical. The captain finally managed to say,
“You’re English?”
Jonathan gave a very formal bow. “Jonathan Richmond, the
seventh Earl of Charbeau. Your servant, sir.”
“Good God, what are you doing here?” The captain looked
rattled, still gaping.
“We were on the
Cricket
when it was trapped in a violent
storm. The vessel sank and we landed here. There are two more of
us, Major Anthony Reeves, and Charles Blake.” He added with
feeling, “And we are very glad to see you, as you can imagine.”
“I know Reeves,” the man said, recovering a little. “Damned
fine officer…excuse me, ma’am.”
Since she was standing there half-naked, Jenna merely lifted
her fine brows, managing somehow to look every inch the lady
despite the fact that the light breeze blew her glorious hair across
her bare breasts, exposing those generous curves for the avid
stares. She laughed lightly, “Don’t apologize, Captain. I would
venture a guess you also know my father, General Hayward.”
“You—you are his daughter—oh my God in heaven, she was
lost at sea. I remembered reading it…” The man swallowed,
stammering, a fine sheen of sweat gracing his brow, no doubt
resulting from the fact he’d been ogling the admittedly spectacular
bosom of the daughter of the most important man in British
military history since Wellington. Clearing his throat, he managed
to say credibly, “I am Captain Murray, at your service in every
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way.”
“If you are looking for your sail, we found it this morning,”
Jonathan informed him. “I’ll be happy to show you where it is.”
The captain bowed. “And once we make some minor repairs,
I’ll be honored to give you safe passage to the nearest port where
you can catch a ship for England.”
“It’s a bargain,” Jonathan said dryly. “Come on, Jenna.”
Taking her hand in an act of sheer male possession, he started to
lead her down the beach. Behind them he heard the captain bellow,
“Follow me, men.” Then he added in a firm low tone, “And if I
catch any one of you staring at the young lady, I’ll have you
flogged, understand?”
* * * *
Leaning back, Jenna closed her eyes in bliss. “Tea,” she
whispered. “I am drinking tea again. I didn’t realize how much I
missed it.” She sipped the beverage, holding the warm cup in her
hands, leaning back against a soft pillow.
Jonathan laughed, buttoning his white shirt, tucking the ends
into dark trousers that were a shade tight and a tad too short. “I
don’t know if I missed all the confining clothing, however. It feels
distinctly odd to don a shirt after nearly half a year.”
“I feel a little offended I am not invited to dine with the captain
as well,” she said teasingly, reclining on the bunk of the spacious
cabin, watching him dress in the borrowed clothes. “Though, I
guess I won’t complain. I am so tired from all the excitement I
could sleep for a year.”
“You cannot appear at the table in your island attire or you
would cause a riot. Neither can you only wear a man’s shirt, even
if it covers you to mid-knee,” he remarked, turning and lifting one
dark brow. “It will take a while to sink in, but we are all going to
have to readjust to civilized clothing and expected behavior. For
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my part, I am glad to be able to shave.” He fingered his smooth
jaw. “I hate a beard.”
“If we are supposed to be so civilized and polite, how on earth
is it expected that you will join me in this cabin then?” She was
curious how a man who clearly revered her father like Captain
Murray would allow the earl to share her bed on his ship.
Jonathan said autocratically, “Because I informed the captain I
would be. I am Charbeau, and there are some advantages to having
an aristocratic title. I doubt Murray even has the slightest idea how
to deal with the awkwardness of finding you half-naked on an
island with three men. I simply made it clear you were mine and I
would sleep here with you.”
Gazing at his tall, well-muscled form, so lean and dark in
contrast to the white shirt, the expression on his handsome face
laced with arrogance, she murmured, “Am I yours?”
His aqua eyes were direct, his mouth faintly smiling at he
stared at her. “Oh yes.”
He was right about the confinement of conventional clothing,
she almost wished she wasn’t wearing the fine lawn shirt, but it
was the only thing that could be found she could use for cover. The
urge to take it off and lie without a stitch on the soft mattress of the
bunk was almost overwhelming she was so used to being nude.
Stretching slightly and setting aside her cup, she said languorously,
“It strikes me that I have been a bit…deprived lately, Jonathan.”
His gaze narrowed, scanning her bare legs where the shirt rode
up to mid-thigh. “Deprived?”
“Of sex,” she informed him, her lashes half-lowered as she
gauged his reaction. “In the cave, it wasn’t possible with all four of
us there and the storm, I understand that, but...I am afraid I have
grown very used to the activity and maybe it is the coming child,
but I feel very…womanly.”
“Jenna,” he said, taking an audible breath, his eyes flaring, “the
ship’s mate will be here any second to escort me to the galley and I
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just got dressed. Stop tempting me. I promise to fully oblige you
later.”
“You’ll wake me when you come back?” she asked, lifting the
hem of the oversized shirt to reveal the golden triangle of pubic
hair between her legs. “I need you here.”
“You can stake your life on it,” he muttered, his gaze glittering
bright as he stared at the apex of her thighs.
“I am looking forward to it.”
“Hell and blast, will you always entice me this way?”
She answered in complete unaffected honesty, “I hope so.”
The light knock on the door made him say gruffly, “Cover
yourself. There is a guard posted at the door. Ask him for anything
you want. Your dinner should be here shortly. I will be back in a
few hours.”
She frowned, pulling the shirt back down. “A guard? Why?”
“Perhaps you’ve never looked at yourself, Jenna. This is a ship
full of men.” With that he stepped out, the door closing smartly
behind him.
When he was gone, she lay there feeling both bereft without his
presence and vulnerably afraid. Over the past months she had
managed to wheedle a great deal of information from Charles
about his employer. By all accounts, Jonathan Richmond was a
detached, if skillful lover, and had an aversion to the permanence
of marriage. She loved him, and back on the island she felt he was
growing into feeling the same for her …whether he recognized the
emotion or not. The trouble was, now that they were rescued, he
could easily enough deliver her to her father and walk away. The
child she carried might, or might not be his, and he wasn’t honor
bound to marry her any more than Charles or Anthony.
Anthony would wed her, she thought despondently. And he
would make a dutiful husband, considerate and caring.
Charles too, would do the honorable thing, though her father
would never allow her to marry a servant, no matter how brave and
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engaging.
Jonathan, however, was an unknown quantity. He said he
would claim the child, but that was before they had suddenly found
themselves on their way back to England. Not once had he even
mentioned feeling anything but lustful possession.
Reaching for the teacup, Jenna found her throat was too tight
with tears to swallow.
* * * *
The shipboard dining area was small, paneled, and smelled of
tobacco and long past meals. The brandy, however, was excellent
and slid smoothly down his throat. Jonathan sighed much as Jenna
had when drinking her beloved tea and leaned back in his chair.
Swirling the glass lightly, he asked, “Are Charles and Anthony not
joining us?”
“They dined below with the crew.” Murray, resplendent in a
clean, crisp uniform, his graying hair carefully brushed, said
hesitantly, “My lord, I thought it perhaps best if we had some time
alone to sort out this…interesting situation. I admit,” he added
heavily, “I am at a loss on how to handle it.”
“You rescued us. That should be enough, I would say, for a
promotion.”
“I stumbled upon you by accident. There was no valor or
cunning involved.”
“Just the same, we are quite grateful. And I have friends in
high places, even at Horse Guards. It will not go unremarked.”
Captain Murray had very light gray eyes that almost matched
his hair. His gaze direct, he nodded. “Thank you, but my problem
goes deeper than a good word in London. I somehow doubt
General Hayward would be grateful if he knew I allowed you to—
to bunk in with his young daughter. You, sir, are putting me in a
very bad position. I wish to accommodate you in every way, Lord
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Charbeau. However, your insistence on staying in the stateroom
with Miss Hayward is beyond the pale.”
“She needs protection. Since I have been giving it to her these
past months, I want to continue to see her safe.”
“I have posted a guard at your insistence,” Murray continued
doggedly. “Is that not enough?”
Taking another mouthful of brandy, Jonathan swallowed and
leaned back in his chair, narrowing his gaze on the man sitting
opposite. “You did look at her, didn’t you, Murray, back on the
beach?”
A slow flush touched the older man’s face. “I had no idea who
she was.”
“But, just the same, you saw her incredible beauty, those very
luscious breasts, and all that smooth skin, didn’t you?”
“My lord, I just said I had no idea—”
Fingering his glass, Jonathan elevated his brows in a haughty
gesture that had intimidated many men. He said blandly, “I was
trapped on an island with her for months. Is it any wonder I would
succumb to those obvious charms? She already carries my child. I
will not get her any more pregnant with a few more nights on your
ship. Your sense of responsibility is misplaced. What happens
between myself and Miss Hayward is between us.”
The captain looked aghast for a moment, then sighed deeply in
resignation. Rubbing his forehead, he muttered, “I cannot imagine
your dilemma any more than how General Hayward will react.”
“Fortunately for you, that is my problem,” Jonathan said
sardonically. “In the meantime, tell me how you came to be there
on the beach today.”
Gratefully accepting the change in subject, Murray said, “We
knew the storm was coming…you could feel it approaching even
when the sky was clear. I ordered the ship to skirt all the islands in
the area, looking for a promising place where we could weather the
typhoon. It was a hearty blow, if I may say so.”
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Sipping his brandy, Jonathan inclined his head. “I know
exactly what you mean. We took refuge in a cave on the other side,
sitting in the darkness for almost three days.”
“We sailed as close as we could into a small cove. Putting the
ship at anchor, we found that the way the winds came the vessel
was fairly protected, at least as much as one could be in such a
gale. It was sheer luck, nothing more, but all we lost was the one
sail. When I set out to look for it, I had no idea on earth you were
there.”
A boy entered, carrying a tray with steaming chafers and
Jonathan registered the smell of beef for the first time in what
seemed a lifetime. “I despaired of being found,” he said quietly as
the cabin boy moved to serve them.
“Major Reeves said you all had resigned yourselves to a
lifetime of exile on your small bit of paradise.”
“Yes.”
Picking up his knife and fork, the captain had a heavy
speculative look in his eyes. “He also told me he saw you kill a full
grown leopard with nothing but your bare hands and a small
dagger, and I was not to judge you as an arrogant foppish lord.”
Jonathan laughed, meeting the other man’s level gaze.
“Anthony proved to be an intrepid companion. What else did he
say?”
“That Miss Hayward willingly shared your bed and to let you
deal with her father.”
“A wise man.” Jonathan sighed. “I imagine our arrival in
London will create a stir. Since I am presumed dead, I suppose my