Chapter Thirteen #2
Speak. Her mouth opened. But nothing came out. His gaze dropped and she licked her lips. The fire in his eyes burned brighter. If only she could read his thoughts. They rode through another swell, and his muscles tensed against her.
And then his face lowered. If he kissed her . . . her mind began to race. She needed to remove herself from this situation. Forming an attachment with the lieutenant as the shy Miss Warstein was the absolute worst thing that could happen. She needed to keep him away from her secrets, not closer.
His lips brushed hers in the softest of caresses.
And she ceased thinking at all.
He pulled away a fraction, hovering an agonizing hairsbreadth away. She held her breath as everything about him consumed her. The light pressure of his fingers on her back. The smooth hardness of his thigh pressed against hers. His breath coming in gentle puffs beneath her chin.
No woman could resist this.
So, she didn’t.
A tiny sound came from the back of her throat and she lifted her hands to his chest. They skimmed up to his shoulders. To his neck. His breathing hitched. And she pulled him back to her.
With a groan, the hand at her back crushed her to him. His other hand tangled in her hair, trapping her mouth to his as he pressed into the kiss. Samantha’s lips parted and he took control, darting his tongue into her mouth. The silky brush of it against her own undid her.
Her knees went weak and she sagged in his grip as the fire at her core became an inferno. How? How could he make her feel this way? Her fingertips dug into the back of his neck. He responded by catching her lower lip between his teeth and pivoting them so her back rested against the ladder.
“Miss Warstein—”
No. No talking. She mimicked him, pulling away and biting at his lip. The muscles of his arms bunched around her and he ran his tongue along hers. The room swayed around her. Breathe. She’d been holding her breath all this time.
With a gasp, she tore her mouth away and sucked in a gulp of air. Christian slid his lips along her jawline, leaving a trail of fire until he reached the tender spot beneath her ear. The burst of raw desire that shot through her when he grazed his teeth there nearly brought her to her knees.
She twisted his hair between her fingers. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more. More of him. More of this.
She dropped her hands to his chest once more and fumbled with his top button.
Undone. And then the next one. One more, and his shirt gaped open enough for her to slide a hand inside.
The heat of his bare skin seared into her, and crisp wisps of hair pressed against her palm. Christian went still beneath her touch.
He untangled his fingers from her hair and caught her chin, angling her mouth to his. His kiss was frenzied, his tongue moving with an intensity she could not match. Her nails scraped across his skin and he growled, the sound vibrating through her mouth.
His other hand moved up her side, coming to rest directly over her breast. Her head fell back as he massaged it, the pressure almost unbearable. He followed her movement, his lips refusing to relinquish hers.
“Red.”
The barely whispered word hit her like a bucket of cold water.
Samantha yanked free of his embrace and staggered back a step, her breaths coming in ragged pants.
“What did you say?”
He stared at her with a horrified expression. “Oh, God. I—I’m sorry.” He stepped forward and reached for her but she ducked away. “I got caught up in the moment. You . . . you reminded me of someone.”
Heat slamming in her chest, she twisted from him and stumbled back to her cell. What had she done? For a brief moment, he had recognized her. She’d crossed the line and nearly paid for it. She needed to deflect. Now.
“A paramour?” Somehow, her voice worked enough to choke it out.
“Miss Warstein, please . . .”
She shook her head. The shy, proper Miss Warstein needed to come back. “I don’t know what came over me. I apologize for my forward behavior. It won’t happen again.”
He stepped closer. “What if I want it to?”
Heat pulsed between her legs. Traitorous body. She pressed her thighs together, but the throbbing only intensified.
“Miss Warstein, look at me.”
No. She couldn’t. She stared at the floor. Was it too much to wish for the boards to part and dump her into the sea?
The rustle of the chain above saved her. Christian leaped into his cell and pressed the door shut as she scrambled into hers.
“Quickly, close yours.”
She swung it closed and it bounced back a bit. “What now?”
If the pirates discovered the cells unlocked, who knew how they would react?
“Lean against it.”
She turned her back to the bars.
“Wait. Here.” He tossed the bent piece of wire to her.
“Hide it,” he whispered when she stared at it.
With wide eyes, she shoved it beneath her skirts and tucked it into her drawers.
The hatch swung open and she dropped to the floor and pushed the cell door fully closed. Christian stood by his, one hand on the cell door, the other on the bars next to it.
Skip climbed down a moment later with two trays.
More footfalls came from above him. Heavy ones.
The giant. She slid a glance over to Christian, who eyed the boy with an opportunistic gleam in his gaze.
He had better not try something. She gave a little cough and he looked at her.
With a shake of her head, she nodded toward the hatch.
The cabin boy slid the trays beneath the doors and pinched his nose. “Lucky for you, we made good time. We’ll be anchoring off Inagua Island tonight and will make it to port in the morning. Hopefully, Capt’n will give you all a good dunk in the sea.”
Christian’s eyes narrowed. “Leave us be.”
Skip’s chin jutted up. “Not yet. Bring me your piss buckets.”
Samantha stiffened.
“They aren’t full.” Christian leaned against the bars and stared the boy down.
Skip wavered. The job had to be his least favorite. With any luck, he would listen to Christian. But the kid pulled his scrawny shoulders back. “Orders are orders.”
He pulled out the keys and slid one into Samantha’s door. She tensed. No click. But he didn’t react. Her breath whooshed out and she crawled forward to grab the bucket. He didn’t notice the lock. But would he notice the missing handle?
He didn’t. Oh, to be young and oblivious. He set the bucket down and locked her door with a loud clank. When he moved to unlock Christian’s door, the lieutenant did a better job of masking the unlocked state. He shook the door while Skip turned the key.
The boy frowned. “Don’t you try nothing. My friend up there will beat you to a pulp if you do.”
Christian didn’t say anything and handed the boy his bucket. His hands clenched around the bars so tightly his knuckles had gone white. If he did something foolish . . . Samantha glared at him. But he didn’t move.
Skip quickly took the bucket and pushed the door shut. The lock clicked into place a moment later and he yanked the key free and jumped back. He handed the buckets up and scrambled up after the man above took them. The hatch slammed shut and Samantha leaned her head back against the bars.
“I could have taken him out.”
“And then what? What about the man waiting there?”
“I could have taken him too.”
Samantha jerked her gaze to him. “Lieutenant, that man nearly killed you last night.”
“I was tired, weakened from fighting. Today would have been different.”
“Hmph.” She turned away.
“Give me the wire.”
She ignored him.
“Miss Warstein—”
The stubborn man was going to get them killed.
“No.”
“No?”
She crossed her arms. “There’s no reason to risk our lives like that again. You heard the boy. We’ll be anchoring off an island tonight. It would make far more sense to try again then.”
“Miss Warstein, with all due respect, you have no experience in these sorts of things.”
Ha. She had far more than he could know. Her nose scrunched. Although, she had never been captured by an enemy before. Still, she wasn’t going to give him a chance to rush headfirst into certain death. If they were going to escape, she needed him hale and whole.
“I would appreciate it if you considered my wishes. I do not feel comfortable trying another escape right now. I would prefer to wait until dark, where this monstrosity,” she pointed to her dress, “won’t stick out like a sore thumb.”
“It’s not a monstrosity.”
“First thing I’m going to do if I get out of here is burn it.”
He chuckled, and some of her tension drained. “Though I want to disagree with your plan, I will concede. A night escape will be easier with fewer men on the decks.”
She fought the urge to look at him. Perhaps not as stubborn as she’d first thought.
“Miss Warstein?”
What now? She swiveled to face him.
He’d crossed to the bars separating them and her gaze dropped to where his shirt still gaped open. Her pulse jumped and her throat went dry.
He ran a hand through his hair. “About earlier. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
No. No, no, no. She was not going to think about it. Not the kiss. Not the way his skin felt beneath her hand. Definitely not his hand over her breast.
Her cheeks flamed. “Can we please not talk about it?”
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
Too late.
“Talking about it makes me uncomfortable.”
He shifted on his feet. “I wasn’t trying to . . . trying to take advantage of you. I usually have much better self-control.”
Was that supposed to make her feel better? She stared at him with wide eyes.
“I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I very much would like—”
She groaned. “Look, Lieutenant, it was a nice kiss, but—”
“Just nice?” His eyes sparkled in the dim light.
She couldn’t help her grin. “Fine. A very nice kiss. But it can’t happen again.”
The ship groaned beneath them. A heavy rudder adjustment. Christian noticed it as well and the teasing glint left his eyes. “We’re slowing.”
Silence fell around them and Samantha spread her fingers on the floor. It wasn’t long until a series of vibrations ran up her arms. Her smile widened. “Anchor’s dropped.”
Christian peered at her as the ship jerked to a stop. “How did you know?”
“A stroke of genius, clearly,” she muttered beneath her breath. She really needed to keep her mouth shut. Time to change the subject. “So what’s the grand plan?”
His eyes narrowed for a split second before he sat. “We’ll wait to make our move until later tonight when the boy brings back the buckets.”
But Skip didn’t come back. No one did.