Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) (16 page)

“I think you’ll survive,” Marlee observed and finished applying a salve which Holcombe had brought to her. She bandaged Lark’s arm and surveyed her handiwork. Despite her trembling fingers and earlier queasiness, she’d done an adequate job.

“Pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Lark asked and leaned against the pillows on the bunk.

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve never taken care of someone who’d been injured. I’ve never taken care of anyone. My doctoring skills leave a great deal to be desired, but I believe you’ll recover.”

“Thanks to you I will.”

Marlee shyly glanced down and made a move to get off of the bunk, but Lark grabbed her hand, concealing it within the warmth of his own. She felt him watching her and slowly drew her eyes upward to meet his steady stare. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Marlee, stop being so polite. I meant what I said about thanking you. You didn’t have to warn me about Mendoza.”

“Of course I had to warn you. The man was going to kill you. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary—anybody would have done the same.”

“But I didn’t deceive just anybody. I deceived you.”

She wanted to pull her hand away. The memory of what he’d done to her still caused her agonizing moments, but she was beginning to understand why Lark had been so driven. Those horrible pirates were fierce and frightening. Perhaps this Manuel Silva was even worse. “Yes, you did an awful thing to me,” she admonished lowly.

“Well, you’ll soon be back in Cornwall,” he assured her. “You can pursue your life, as if I never happened.”

Had she heard a sadness in his voice or had she imagined it? She’d like to think he’d care when she was gone. “But you did happen,” she found herself admitting. “Do you think me so shallow that I can ever forget? I—I can’t forget, yet in some silly portion of my heart, I forgive you.” She hadn’t meant to say any of that. She’d wanted to remain calm and act surprisingly cool but whenever Lark so much as looked at her, she found herself reverting to a lovesick fool. And to have him touch her was more than unbearable. Sometimes she thought he’d placed her under some sort of an enchanted spell.

This time she pulled her hand away and stood up to restlessly pace the cabin. “Why is going after Manuel Silva so important to you?” she flung at him. “I know he nearly killed you once, but why must you willfully seek him out? If he’s such a terrible man, he may finally succeed in finishing the job. I can’t believe you’d risk your life only to settle a score. You have another ship now, you’re starting over again. Material things can be easily replaced. Nothing is more important than life.” Your life, she silently amended.

Lark stifled a groan and sat on the edge of the bunk. He’d been waiting for her to question him about Silva. Wreaking vengeance for what Silva had done to him was horrible in itself but there was Bettina to consider.

Lark didn’t believe Marlee would understand or forgive him for not telling her about Bettina. And he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the woman he planned to marry. He treasured each moment he spent with Marlee, and knew their time was running out. Soon he’d place her on the return ship to England, but he didn’t want her to remember him as a mercenary cad, hunting down Silva only because the despicable pirate had destroyed his ship. God, why must he care so much what Marlee thought about him? Why must he feel anything for her? Things would be so much easier if he’d never met her.

But watching her standing defiantly before him, demanding an answer from him, gave him pause. He knew why he felt something for her. Even dressed in man’s clothing, she was so incredibly beautiful that he could barely think. Not only was she physically perfect but sweet and trusting—even after what he’d done to her. He felt his loins hardening with need for her and silently cursed his fate.

Bettina needed him, she was the woman whom his dear father had chosen for his wife. Because he hadn’t adequately defended her, she’d been used by Silva’s pirate crew if what Mendoza had insinuated was true. Lark had to rescue her, he must find Manuel Silva. If Bettina was alive, no matter her condition, he’d bring her home to Williamsburg as his bride. He owed Bettina that much. And he’d lose Marlee in the process.

Lark took a deep breath. “Silva kidnapped a— friend of mine from my ship when he attacked it last year. I was penniless after that, as I told you. I needed the money to get a new ship to rescue—this person.”

Marlee’s face paled. “I’m sorry, Lark. I had no idea.” She now understood why he’d needed money so desperately. No matter what deceptive thing he’d done to her, she couldn’t deny that his crew respected him and that Simon had fondly regarded him. Perhaps there was a side to him she hadn’t wanted to see in her pain. Apparently, Lark was a good friend to have. “Is that why you’re going to New Providence?”

“Someone on the island may have information about Silva—and where he took—this person,” he admitted, barely able to face her.

“Maybe I can help you somehow when we reach New Providence,” she volunteered.

“No!” he burst out and jumped off the bunk. He grabbed her arm. “Stay out of this dangerous business. I don’t want anything to happen to you—ever. Anyway, you’re going home soon—”

“And you won’t have to worry about me any longer, isn’t that what you meant to say?” To her own ears she sounded shrewish and she bit down upon her lower lip to keep the tears that suddenly threatened at bay. He was standing so close to her that she could smell the musty male scent of him, could feel his warm breath wafting across her face. Lark’s mouth was so dangerously close to hers that she couldn’t concentrate. All she wanted was his lips’ possession.

“I’ll never stop worrying about you, Marlee. You’re in my blood like a raging windstorm. I can’t stop thinking about you or wanting you. You’re driving me insane.”

“Oh, Lark!” She threw her arms around his neck, unable to resist. “I hate arguing with you, I hate wanting you when I know I should hate you. But—but I think I know now why you felt forced to do what you’ve done. Can we make a truce with one another? I can’t go on like this another second—”

“Even after all I’ve done to you?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s seal our truce,” he suggested with a sensuous smile and drew her closer against him.

“How do we do that?” She sounded breathless and waited, poised on the brink of desire.

“With a kiss, my love. I can think of no finer way to seal a truce.”

Oh, yes! her mind cried, and her body wantonly dissolved into his when he kissed her. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Nothing mattered to her but Lark. She knew now without a doubt that she loved this man. And though he hadn’t admitted he loved her, somehow she trusted that he did.

His kisses stirred her, igniting a fire inside her that burned high and bright. She could feel him touching her breasts, very much aware of the way her nipples hardened beneath his fingertips. Marlee moaned beneath his lips, more than aware of the wet, melting warmth between her thighs. She was ready for him, eager for his rapturous possession of her body, her senses, and her soul.

As for Lark, all conscious thought stopped the second Marlee responded to him. For weeks he’d thought about the night they’d made love the first time, tormenting himself with images of her voluptuous body. He’d remembered every detail of their sweet joining until he feared he was going to end up a babbling idiot. Never had he cherished a memory so much. And now she was in his arms again, she was his for the taking, and being a man who was bewitched, he thought with his heart instead of his good sense. The future ceased to exist for him. There was only this beguiling woman in his arms, this glorious beauty who was now moving toward the bunk with him.

They fell as one onto the covers.

As one, they undressed until nothing but bare, dew-moistened flesh hotly joined with the other. Lark caressed her body with his wonderful hands, provoking desires inside of Marlee that were so intense she couldn’t help but make tiny, mewling sounds of abandoned pleasure. His fingers slipped inside of her with ease and played upon her womanly core like a fine-tuned instrument.

“Oh, Lark, stop,” she pleaded between tiny gasps. “I can’t stand this torment any longer.”

“Do you really want me to stop?” he asked and nipped her earlobe. “Or is there something else you want? Tell me, tell me what you want, Marlee.”

In the gloom of the cabin his eyes resembled shining agates. His powerful body rose above hers and with that movement, Marlee’s body responded. “I want all of you, Lark, every inch of you.”

He smiled down at her, crushing her mouth with his kiss. Marlee instinctively arched upward and parted her thighs for him. She knew exactly what she wanted.

He entered her with a slow sweetness that took her breath, his name dying on her lips.

Time stood still, reality ceased to exist. There was nothing but the beauty of love, the incredible power of passion. They merged as one, defying the fates that conspired to keep them apart. Marlee’s hips gyrated beneath him, her body was controlling her mind. At some point, she had ceased to think but could feel every wonderful thrust as Lark loved her. Like a wind-tossed sea, she was buffeted by passion’s tide. Rapture engulfed her.

“Marlee, Marlee, my love,” Lark whispered raggedly, and poised above her, not moving. “Are you ready, are you?”

She knew she was unable to stand this sweet torment another second. As it was she could barely speak, but her body spoke to Lark. Her hips rose up to meet him, her velvet sheath expanding to take all of him.

It was his lusty groan that sent her over the edge. Her body exploded just as he thrust into her one last time. Mutual ecstasy inundated their senses, blinding them to everything but the intense bliss they’d found in each other’s arms.

~ ~ ~

Marlee woke to discover that Lark had left the bed and was now sitting by the table. The wavering candlelight illuminated the pinpoints of fire within his obsidian eyes. She couldn’t help but smile at him. He was so incredibly handsome and well-formed that she felt lucky to be loved by such a man. But she didn’t remember Lark admitting that he loved her—he’d never admitted love. Yet, he had to love her, because she loved him so very much.

“Would you care for some port?” he asked and offered his glass to her.

Marlee sat up and instinctively wrapped the bedsheet around her, bringing a delighted chuckle from Lark when she took the glass from him. “You’re beguiling even in your modesty, sweetheart,” he playfully noted and kissed her forehead.

“Hmm, unlike someone I could name who doesn’t mind parading around without a stitch of clothing on,” she gently riposted as her eyes drank in Lark’s unabashed nudity.

Lark settled beside her, watching her pretty strawberry-tinted mouth sip delicately at the port. He whispered into her ear, “I wish I was that glass right now.”

Marlee appeared confused, not understanding what Lark meant until her gaze traveled to his very erect manhood. She couldn’t stop her face from turning ten shades of red. “Lark, you’re insatiable!”

“Only with you, sweet Marlee, believe me.” Without a further word, Lark took the glass from her hand and licked the traces of port from her lips. Marlee was quivering with desire again, unable to resist him.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, sunshine drenched the cabin and bathed the room in a bright glow. Marlee had wakened to find a note from Lark on her pillow, telling her that he was on watch. Her breakfast plate, consisting of a biscuit and a cup of warm broth, was already on the table waiting for her. She sat down to eat and had taken only a nibble when Holcombe knocked at the door. Wrapping the sheet securely around her, she opened the door and peered hesitantly at the man.

“Begging your pardon, your ladyship, but I’ve got something you might like to have.” He pointed to a large sea chest beside him. “This is part of what we took from the pirate ship, and I think what’s inside will suit you more than anyone else on board.”

Marlee opened the door to him and he nimbly set the chest beside the bunk. “What is it?” Marlee asked and pulled the sheet tightly around her, most embarrassed to be found in her disheveled state. However, Holcombe was enough of a gentleman that he didn’t gawk at her.

“Women’s clothing, and from the fancy look of the dresses, I’d say a proper lady owned them.” He nodded respectfully at her. “They’ll suit a lady like yourself just fine, ma’am.” No sooner had Holcombe left the cabin than Marlee opened the chest and practically dove inside.

She eagerly pulled out a number of gowns in a rainbow of colors. Some were day dresses but others were encrusted with jewels and fashioned in velvet and satin. There were chemises, petticoats, and underthings which were trimmed with the most delicate laces Marlee had ever seen. White pillowcases, embroidered with a large pink A surrounded by dainty hearts and pink roses, caused Marlee to decide that this had been a trousseau. Whoever had owned these things had no doubt been quite wealthy. For a fleeting second, Marlee wondered about the woman and what had happened to the ship. Certainly the pirates had destroyed the ship on which she’d been traveling and confiscated the trunk. What had happened to the bride-to-be?