A Pirate's Curse (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) (13 page)

Smiling, Doc returned to his seat.
“Good night, lassie.”

“Good night, my friend.” Although she
garbled the words, she meant what she said. Doc had been kind to her, even to her father. He may be a vampire, but he wasn’t a cold blooded killer.

William ushered her out of the galley, up the stairs and into the night air.
He tightened his arm around her waist as they strolled along the deck. She inhaled his scent of cinnamon, but she missed the musky scent of sandalwood. She quit giggling and listened to the waves gently slosh against the sides of the ship.

She bum
ped into him more than once. “I’m sorry for drinking so much.”

“You’
ve had quite the day, Hannah. ’Tis understandable.”

“I didn’t mean to stab him.”
She couldn’t stop repeating herself and didn’t know if she was trying to convince him or herself.

“Don’t worry about it,
Sharon.”

She stopped. “
Sharon? Who’s Sharon?”

He frowned.
“What? I said Hannah.”

Hannah laughed.
“No you didn’t.” She punched him in the arm. “Who’s Sharon? You’ve not mentioned that name before. Who is she?”

He jerked away, but she moved in front of him.
She grabbed both of his hands and swung his arms back and forth like she did when she was a little girl with her friends. “Tell me. Who is she?”

“Nobody.”
He broke free of her grip. “Drop it.”

William
grabbed her arm and dragged her until he backed her against the mast, trapping her. The ship rocked, and he leaned into her. His mouth came crashing down onto hers, tasting like ale, silencing any protest.

He molded his body to hers, but his kiss was hard, cruel, angry, punishing.
Her hands pushed on his chest and she turned her head, but his mouth refused to release her. Heart pounding, she dug her nails into his shirt, trying to get him to release her. Kane had never kissed her in anger. To keep her from screaming, yes. But never to punish her. Why was William so angry? Was he going to force himself on her? She bit down on his tongue. Metallic blood squirted in her mouth.

William jerked his head back and touched his mouth.
“You bit me.”

“Don’t kiss me again without my permission.”

“You mean you gave my brother permission?
A vampire?”

She tilted her chin.
“That does not concern you.”

When voices a
pproached, he took a step back. Hannah covered her swollen lip with her fingers and winced. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. Heat stained her cheeks. What if his men thought she wanted to kiss William? Would they tell Kane? Would he believe she didn’t invite William to kiss her? What would an angry wounded vampire do?

William ran his hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I don’t know what came over me.” Seizing her hand, he hauled her down the stairs and her feet stumbled, but he lifted her up. Her mind whirled, and she blinked to try to focus.

He set her down and she swayed. “Since Kane’s resting in his cabin,” he said, “you'll have to sleep here.”

His arm wrapped around her, steadying her. “May I make up for my behavior earlier?”

“What?”

“Will you allow me to kiss you?”

She peered around the cabin. They were alone. Maybe ’twas the ale, but before she could stop and think, she said, “Yes.”

He bent his head and kissed her. This time, the kiss was gentler, softer. She responded and indulged in the kiss. He stopped before she knew what was happening. “I’ve got to go before I do something I’ll regret.”

She nodded. Hammocks swung from beams. The crew’s quarters? Was it safe? Before she could protest, William bowed. “By your leave, my lady.” He left.

The hammocks, lanterns and ceiling spun around, and her head swam.
Her stomach flipped-flopped and she tasted mussels and ale at the back of her throat. She seized a hammock and held on until the cabin stopped spinning and her stomach eased. Putting her hand on her forehead, she slowly turned around and slipped into the canvas sling. Sleep, she needed sleep.

She woke to the snores of the crew ringing in her ears.
Sweat trickled down her back. She tried to breathe, but inhaled hot air. Throwing her arm over her forehead, she sighed. William had kissed her and at first, she refused him. But then, she allowed him to kiss her again. What was she thinking? What would Kane believe? Accuse her of being a harlot?

She rolled out of the hammock
, landed on her arse and winced. She clutched the hammock and pulled herself up. The pirates continued to blissfully sleep. Snores and the stench of body odor filled the cabin. She needed air. Fresh air.

She step
ped into the corridor and inhaled deeply. Her mouth was completely dry, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of it. She intended to find something to ease her throat. Instead she crept down the corridor, drawn to Kane's cabin. She leaned her head against the door. She missed having Kane's strong arms around her. Could she get past him turning into a vampire? She was living in some horrible tale where the prince changed into a monster.

She needed to see Kane.
Make sure he wasn’t in pain. Opening the door, she peered inside.

Kane was stretched out on the bed.
His left arm cradled his head and his right arm tossed across the bed holding an empty rum bottle. His long black hair graced his back. The quilt fell revealing his sculpted curves of his buttock and the dimples in his lower back. His thighs were lean and hard, affirming he climbed the tall masts of the ship. He was so beautiful, a wounded Greek God, exposing his tempting body.

H
er gaze lingered on his nakedness, taking in her fill, her fingers itching to touch him once more. But she kept her arms close to side, afraid what she might do. Sinful sensations rushed through her. An aching need swept over her to have his fingers run through her hair again, his hands exploring her body and his hot mouth on her skin.  

She stepped into the cabin and edged over to his bed.
He turned his head and sighed. His eyes closed, his thick eyelashes were long, longer than she had ever noticed on a man. His scar on his cheek took nothing away from his handsomeness and added to his virility. He was a man who knew war, cruelty and darkness, but yet, knew tenderness and gentleness.

She wanted to run her finger down his scar, feel the history of the man, the pain, the sorrow, the joy.
His hair stuck to his back glistening with sweat. He shivered. On the nearby table sat a bowl with red water and the rag stained crimson. She snapped up the bowl and rag and hurried down to the galley. She emptied the bowl, filling it with fresh water and grabbed a clean rag.

Back in Kane’s cabin, she put the bowl down.
Kane hadn’t moved. She dipped the rag and wiped the sweat off his back, careful to avoid the red angry flesh around the sutures.

“Thanks, Doc.”

Hannah stilled. What should she do? She didn’t answer. Instead, she dipped the rag into the water, twisted it, squeezing out the excess water. She returned to gently dabbing his back.

Kane whipped around and in one quick motion, grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed.
“What the hell are you doing?”

She detected rum on his breath and his words were slurred.
Her heart pounded. “I…I wanted to check on you.”

He narrowed his eyes.
“Why? Where’s William?”

“William?
I don’t know. Sleeping, I guess.” Had someone told him about their kiss? Should she confess or remain silent?

He released his grip on her.
His eyes were glazed and his face was red. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She cupped his cheek, her finger caressing his bumpy scar on his face, wishing she could take away the one she had made. She frowned. “Kane, you’re feverish.”

“Why do you care?
I’m a bloody vampire. A monster.”

She cringed.
“You’re not a monster.” Her empty words didn’t ease the pain in his eyes.

“Just get out, Hannah.”

“No, you’re shivering.”

“I’ll be fine.
Go back to bed,” he murmured. “I’m immortal, remember? Lucky me.”

Her voice softened.
“You hate being a vampire?”

He rested his head onto his palm.
“’Tis curse. I want to be a man again. Not be a slave to the blessed moon.”

He closed his eyes and his head slowly slipped down h
er arm. He sighed. She nestled closer to him. She grabbed the blanket pulled up around them and her hand pressed against his chest, her thumb brushing over his nipple, turning it into a hard nub. His heart thudded beneath  her hand. 

“Hannah,” Kane warned. “You’re playing with fire.”

Snuggling
next to him, she molded to his flush body. She could feel his arousal against her thigh. He was drunk. Although she was fully clothed, the thought of rape flitted through her mind. Ignoring her fear, she coaxed, “Shh, go to sleep.”

She wrapped her arms around him and he stiffened
, groaning. Rubbing his back, careful not to hurt his wound, she held him. He swore, but slowly relaxed. He laid his head on her shoulder, his scent of sandalwood drifted over her, comforting her. She ran her fingers through his thick, silky hair, twirling his strands. He kissed her neck and she trembled, waiting for more, wanting more, wishing his lips would take hers. Kane kissed her but once more his beard rubbing against her shoulder, nuzzling her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his leg resting over her thigh. His body draped around her, cocooning her into safety and warmth.

She inhaled his spicy breath and felt his rhythmic heart.
The terrors of her stabbing him, his blood drenching the floor, dissipated and for the first time, she sagged into the mattress. Unlike the crew snores, his gave her comfort, and she could listen to him all night. Her eyelids shut and fell asleep listening to his deep breaths.

She woke to the sun shining through the window.
She gazed at the man next to her. He had stopped sweating. Thank goodness.

Her stomach growled.
What if he was hungry? She slipped from underneath Kane’s arm, reluctantly leaving his warm bed.

She rushed down to
the galley. What if Kane found out she had kissed William? Anyone board ship could have seen them. Blast the ale. She was a fool.

Men were seated at the table.
William spied her and stood. “Hannah, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The kiss from last night hurtled back to her and she avoided his gaze. “I want to make Kane something to eat.”

He blinked.
“What?”

Doc stared.
“Not until you eat something. You don't look so good, lass.” He motioned to a chair.

“I
’ll eat with him.” If she ate, someone could tell Kane before her. She needed to tell him. He deserved to hear it from her.

In the galley, Cook cut potatoes.
“What do you need lass?”

“I want to cook for Kane.”

He raised his head. “Ye want to what?”

“Please, Cook.
I owe him.”

He gave her a leery gaze.
“I’ll not let you fix anything bad for da Capt’n.”

“You can watch me?”

“Let her do it, Doc
.”

She turned.
William leaned in the doorway and nodded.

Under Cook’s watchful eye, Hannah
fried four pieces of salt pork and chopped potatoes. She poured hot water into a teapot and grabbed a jar of honey. As fast as she could, she loaded up a tray with the tea, salt pork, potatoes.

“I can carry that,” William said.

She stepped away.
“No, I want to do it.”

He bowed to her.
“This way, lass.”

She wished William
would not come with her. What if he told Kane about the kiss last night? Or what if he would blame Kane for her sleeping with him last night? Call her a whore. She bit her lip as William knocked on the door.

Kane called out behind the door.
“Bloody hell, who is it?”

“Good morning sunshine,” William winked at her
as he opened the door.

Hannah walked in
and put the tray on the table.  She cleared her throat. “I made you breakfast. I thought you might be hungry.” 

Kane glared.
He had been a sleep earlier. Now, he looked like a serpent ready to strike.