Page 66 of A Prince Among Pirates
The mattress shifts beside me as he joins me in the bed. The curtains close, whatever dim light the sconces offered is snuffed out, and the markings on his body disappear into shadow. My heartbeat is deafening in the dark quiet of Captain Sharpe’s bed. And then his hands are on me, and the world around us falls away.
He pulls me close, spooning me to his chest with one arm around my waist, his hand spread across the side of my stomach. I give myself over to him, resting my head on the pillow and leaning my weight back against his.
I think for a moment we aren’t going to say anything, that we’ll simply lie like this until we fall asleep. Honestly, that would be fine—but I find myself turning my head to look back atCaptain Sharpe, and his eyes on me are heavy, the deep brown of them almost black in the dark. My breath hitches, and then I am twisting in his arms to face him.
He helps make the movement smooth, so I don’t ruin the moment by elbowing him or getting caught in the bedclothes. I just stare into his eyes for what seems like an eternity. And then I realize nothing is going to happen unless I make it happen, so I close the distance between us until his breath is warm on my jaw.
His chest heaves and one warm hand slides up my spine, along the back of my neck, and into the hair at my nape. He doesn’t pull like Renard had; instead his fingers press into the tender spot there, and I gasp. Every inch of my body crackles like fire.
He bumps his nose against mine, and I know without him saying a word that he’s waiting for my permission. I could cry. Perhaps I do. My whole face is so hot, I’m not sure I could tell either way, but I can’t bring myself to speak, so I just nod and bring my hand up to rest on his neck, under his ear, where I might brush my thumb along the stubble at his jaw.
And then our mouths collide, and I am lost in him. It isn’t a slow, gentle kiss like the first time I kissed Katherine. It’s fierce, and intense, and wonderful. For a moment I imagine this is exactly how it feels to be drawn into the ocean by a siren’s kiss, to be drowned as she steals the breath from your body.
When we finally break away, we are both panting. He presses his jaw to my temple and holds me tight to his body, his fingers massaging that tender spot on the back of my neck in aprotective, possessive way. I know in this moment I would give myself to him without hesitation, and without regret.
I release a breathless laugh, or maybe a sob. He hums in agreement as I bury my face in his neck. He shifts against me, and then my whole body shudders as his lips brush my ear and he whispers, in a voice far steadier than should be possible, “Good night, Kitten.”
Twenty-Three
The next evening we arrive in Cap Français, or Le Cap as the men call it, having apparently found the wind as I slept during the night. I woke alone in the captain’s bed, which was disappointing, until he came into the room with a grin on his face and a plate full of breakfast for me.
We carefully do not discuss my sleeping in his arms last night, and I carefully do not suggest that if I’d woken in his arms as well, there might have been some gentle morning enjoyment between us. Still, his mood has remained buoyant all day, which has the men in good spirits as well.
Except for Renard.
Renard is eyeing me suspiciously as I linger beside Captain Sharpe under the stairs to the quarterdeck, holding a stack of papers as Sharpe, Mr. Tydes, and Billy discuss the letter of marque I’ve brought out to them.
Sharpe takes the papers from me and offers them to Mr. Tydes to look over. Then he touches my arm, and despite the innocence of that gesture, I find myself glancing around to see if anyone saw it. Sharpe has never touched me like this out in front of the men. In private, or with only the twins in the room, he has never held back, but out on deck he has always been careful.
Right now he isn’t being careful.
Mr. Tydes notices, but he says nothing—merely glances my way and lifts his brows before his gaze drops back to the papers. Billy, bless him, is entirely oblivious. But Renard saw. He saw, and he is staring straight at me.
Great.
“Did you hear me, Kitten?”
I jump and tear my gaze away from Renard to blink up at Captain Sharpe. “What?”
“I said we won’t be here long,” Sharpe says, frowning down at me. “I have business to attend to with Tydes.” He holds up the letter of marque. “The men are free to do as they like for the evening. You don’t have to stay on board, but best not to go off alone. Go ahead and get a hot meal with the men, Kitten.”
I nod. “All right.”
He smiles at me, and though I am all too aware of Renard’s piercing gaze, I can’t help the warmth that swells inside me at the sight of that particular smile—a smile Sharpe seems to reserve only for me.
He ruffles my hair, then turns to follow Mr. Tydes onto thedock with our paperwork. I notice then that the flag proudly displayed at our stern is the Union Jack.
Leave it to Captain Sharpe to hang a Union Jack while in port at a French colony.
A hand clapping down on my shoulder startles me out of my amusement. I gasp as I whip around to face Rodriguez, who grins broadly, all teeth and pretty blue eyes.
“You’re jumpy, lordling,” he says. “Join us for a pint.”
I sigh, putting a hand to my chest for dramatic effect. “Yes, very well. Let me get my purse.”
Rodriguez chuckles, and I realize that I’ve likely offered to pay for our drinks—but I can’t bring myself to care. I let myself back into Sharpe’s cabin and take my purse, then decide to wear my jacket. It’s hot, but I won’t be caught in a French colony underdressed. I smooth my hair back into its queue and step back out, closing the cabin door behind me.
Twenty minutes later a group of seven of us are crammed around a table in a noisy tavern, and I am already shrugging out of my jacket. It’s too hot inside, and in any case, there’s no gentry around to be concerned about my state of dress.
