Loving Sarah (16 page)

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Authors: Sandy Raven

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Loving Sarah
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Why did he have to be right? What caused her to be so reckless as to not consider the possibility of a child? She knew better! Now she had this added worry, all because of her recklessness.

She had wanted children one day, but didn’t think she’d ever marry so she’d resigned herself to the possibility of never having any. And now it looked like she was going to be forced to wed someone who didn’t want her, because he feared her brother and Lucky. Of course, there was the one hour of hedonistic intercourse that she would never forget, but how could she marry him knowing how he felt?

Before the room grew dark, she lit one lantern and readied herself for bed. She didn’t want him in the bed with her, but didn’t think she could ask him to sleep elsewhere. And there was no place else for her to go.

So she quickly unbolted the door when she heard his heavy-booted footfall leave the steering deck over her head and scrambled onto the far-side of the bed under the covers. When he entered the room, she feigned sleep when he asked if she were awake.

The following morning, realizing her ploy had worked, she went about her day, same as the one before. She ignored him when he came to bed, pretending to be asleep, and did it again the following night, and the one after that.

Eventually he caught on to her game, because on the fifth night, he woke her up.

 

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

 

 

I
an climbed into the bed thinking she was asleep, as she’d been the past few nights. But when he heard the hitch in her breath, as though she’d been crying, he reached out toward her.

“Why the tears?” he asked, thinking to comfort her. Instead she pushed him away and scrambled from the bed to go to the wash basin and get a cool rag from the bowl.

“No reason. I’m a woman. Can I not shed a tear every so often without it being for a specific reason?”

“There’s always a reason,” he replied, trying to sound sympathetic. His eyes followed her in the moonlit room as she sat on the chair and placed her compress over her eyes.

“Well, I have none except that” —she removed the compress and faced him— “we will be in New York soon, and…you will think this is selfish beyond measure, but…I would like some soap and a bath in a real tub and perhaps a dress or two. Because” —she paused for a breath— “I am so tired of these clothes. I want to feel like a lady again. Maybe then….”

He gave her a moment to finish, but when she didn’t he asked, “Maybe then, what?”

She put her head back, and she replaced the compress to her eyes. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing.”

“Are you afraid of what Lucky will say or do? If that is the case, you will not be alone facing him or even your brother when we return.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said. The hitch in her voice before she replied told him he’d hit the root of her problem.

“Where’s the bravado from two weeks ago? You said, ‘leave my family to me,’ and now you’re worried. I would like to know why?”

“You presume much, Captain.”

Ian noticed her shirt had risen up her thighs as she held her head back with the compress over her eyes. With her arms raised, he could see the curve of her bare thigh and the faint shadow of bruising visible in the dark room. He knew she was still sore from her fall, but he thought her vulnerable and pretending to be strong in the light of what was about to happen when they reached New York.

Ian threw the covers back and stood, moving to stand before her. He lifted the compress. “There will be no time to go ashore, but I can add a few things to the list of stores we need restocked.” He read the disappointment on her face in the moment before the shutters closed on her blue eyes. “And you will never have to fear your family’s reaction because I will be there.”

He thought he saw a tear fall from one of her eyes, and he wiped it with a thumb. He lifted her hand and raised her to stand. She looked so vulnerable, and for some reason, he wanted to hold her, give her some of his strength. Then his cock stirred to life. What a lecherous bastard he was for wanting her now, while she was scared and vulnerable. He wanted her right then as much as he did that night he’d first taken her, and just as much as he did every night in between.

There would be no more evasion. He wanted her. If they married in New York Harbor, she wouldn’t have to face her brother alone.

He took her into his arms and lowered his head to hers, taking her lips in a long, deep kiss that sent tiny tremors through him. He hadn’t expected to feel these things for her. At least not yet. And this revelation was starting to unnerve him. He wasn’t any more ready for home and hearth today as he was when they met. And he had a grandfather who couldn’t die fast enough, so until he did, Ian planned to sail the seas to build the business he’d started with Lucky.

Grasping her bare bottom, he lifted her against him and slid his tongue into her mouth when she gasped at the evidence of his arousal. He broke the kiss to remove her shirt, then lifting her so as not to hurt her side, he set her gently on the bed. He stepped away to remove his own clothing and returned to stand next to her where he drank in her moon-lit beauty, marred only slightly by the bruising. She sucked the breath right from him, not just with her looks, but with her naïve eagerness for everything in her life. Sarah was so unlike any other woman he’d known.

She pushed back the hair that had fallen over her face, and he slid onto the bed next to her, taking the hard peak of a breast into his mouth while he toyed with the other between his thumb and fingers. God, she tasted so good. He never wanted to leave the bed as long as she was in it. With one hand supporting his weight, he let the other trail down from her right breast to cup her warm, moist apex. His fingers parted her and delved into her, moving in and out, mimicking his shaft. She was so tight and wet; he was about to burst with wanting her.

He withdrew his slick fingers and toyed with her swollen nub.

“I want you, Sarah.”

“Do you really?” Her voice held no surprise, but rather was throaty and seductive, sending his blood rushing straight to his cock.

“Yes.” He slid down her body, trailing kisses down to her navel, then lower still. Parting her inner folds, he brought his mouth down on her and gently held her sensitive core with his teeth while he rubbed it with his tongue. Her moans told him she was enjoying his attention as did the way she grabbed onto his head and held him in place with her fingers entwined in his hair.

When she began to quiver at the onset of her climax, he pushed two fingers into her narrow, silken sheath and felt her muscles first accept, then clench around them as she cried out in pleasure. She fell back onto the pillows, and he withdrew his hand as he raised over her and drove home. He took her lips again and moved deeply and rhythmically, seeking his own release now.

He didn’t know what it was about this woman, something more than her physical appearance…but something made him
want
to please her. Maybe it was her willingness to have someone like him or the glimpses of shyness he saw in her face at times, but she was definitely made to fit him perfectly in more than just a sexual way.

She was so tight and slick with her own moisture that it didn’t take long before he felt his climax come upon him, building quickly. Her whispered sighs drove him on, and when her hands burned a trail down to grasp his buttocks, it was his undoing. She cried out his name, and when he felt her tighten her silken muscles and draw him in further, he gave her his seed. He pressed kisses on her flushed face and swollen lips, then rolled off, bringing her with him.

He held her as she fell asleep in his arms, and in the dim light of a cloudless night on the water, he thought he just might be the luckiest man in the world.

 

S
arah almost gave her true feelings away. As she lay next to him in the bed, listening to the creaking of the timbers as the ship moved through the water, she realized she’d almost told Ian what she was really crying about.

She’d almost confessed her desire to be wanted by him, not just in the erotic and sensual manner they had already shared, but rather in a romantic sense. Not one man in all the years she’d been on the market had offered for her, nor had any even come close to showing interest in her.

Except as a friend. She was always someone’s friend. Her sister, Elise, told her that she should use this time to get to know people and that a man would come along one day that was worthy of her.

In her mind, it had been three years already, and if she hadn’t found this man yet, he likely didn’t exist among those available in her social realm. She’d heard stories of spinsters marrying late—her own mother was one—but they were the rare exceptions. More often than not, women past a certain age weren’t so lucky. She knew a marriage to Ian would have been full of adventure. They could have sailed the seas together.

Except he didn’t really want her, and because of that she would never marry him. She could never marry a man who accused her of trapping him.

 

T
en days later, Sarah held onto the brightwork railing beneath the quarter deck, watching as they sailed parallel to the American coast. This was the first land she’d seen in three weeks, two days, and six hours. It wasn’t as though Sarah intended to count them, but she had. Knowing Ian believed she had trapped him, and that he had to
resolve
himself to marriage, she knew she could never marry him. He didn’t want her. That was his way of telling her this.

So she planned her quiet exit from
Revenge
, deciding to disappear into town with Seamus and Goran when they went to fetch supplies. As soon as she took care of her needs, she’d go to Lucky. Ian thought she feared her family. She had never feared the ones who loved her. Lucky might be angry when he realized what she’d done, but would understand her need for adventure and not force her to something so horrible as a marriage to a man who didn’t want her.

As Ian predicted, the northern course across the Atlantic had, indeed, proven the quickest route. It may have been harder sailing, as evidenced by the number of times Seamus was called away from the galley to help repair torn sails, but the winds were steady, and with the fore-and-aft rigging, they’d been able to make use of even the slightest variable breeze.

The chatter among the men was full of relief and excitement. Of course, their position wouldn’t be known until they sailed into New York Harbor, but the crew was very optimistic about their time. All said they’d never crossed the Atlantic so quickly. Then they started betting amongst themselves about what place they were currently in, and with the
Avenger
barely visible ahead of them, it was presumed that they were in at least second place. No one could know whether the boats crossing on a more southerly route had made it in already and were now headed back to Liverpool after the requisite twenty-four-hour hold.

Even with the air all around her charged with anticipation, each time she thought of separating from Ian, Sarah felt as though her soul was being ripped from her body. As a result, she’d spent the past two days on the verge of tears every time she thought of the return trip without Ian at the helm or by her side at night.

Standing on the main deck near the steps up to the steering deck, Sarah watched the lushly forested and rocky coastline slowly grow closer. She turned to look up at Ian as he stood on the steering deck talking to his helmsman as he was about to hand over the wheel. A moment later, he stood beside her. He’d kept his dark blond beard neatly trimmed with scissors and thus was not as offensive as she’d originally thought. She thought back to how wonderful he looked when she last saw him shaved, then wanted to cry at knowing she’d never see him that way again.

His sun-kissed locks hung straight just past his shirt collar, and though unfashionable, Sarah found it entirely too appealing. She’d adored running her fingers through it when they were in the intimate quarters of their cabin.

She drank in the sight of him as he offered a smile to her, his sparkling hazel eyes shining with mirth. These were the memories she would hold onto after she left him later that very day. Forcing herself to return his smile, she reached out and took his hand, bringing it to her cheek and resting it there. Sarah closed her eyes before he could see her heart in them.

“How much longer before we are in New York harbor?”

“Within four hours we will have the anchor dropped.” While there was a hint of excitement in his voice, he looked at her with an expression she could only describe as regret mixed with remorse. It was yet another reason not to marry him. He didn’t want her complicating his plans—he’d told her that immediately upon discovering her on his boat.

Exactly as he predicted, several hours later, at one-seventeen in the afternoon, they crossed the line set by buoy markers and were soon anchored in the harbor under a cloudy and drizzly sky. Sarah took his book and packed it in her satchel with her clothing, then closed the drawer under the bed, after leaving a note for Ian inside his ledger. She knew Ian would get it when she was long gone from his ship.

She was doing the right thing in leaving the note. Hopefully when he saw it, he would be less angry with her. In the letter, she’d poured out her heart and told him what he meant to her and the reasons why she would never want to trap him. To trap him would be like caging a bird that needed the sky or a fish who needed sea.

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