Читать книгу My Wicked Pirate - Rona Sharon - Страница 14

She was back in the black and purple cabin. Eros locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket. He contemplated her hostile face. Her skin glistened with seawater. Her golden hair tumbled to her waist, mussed and damp. Her purple gown shimmered in the soft lamplight.

“You look beautiful wearing my colors, Principessa. They suit you well.”

“Your colors,” Alanis spat with contempt. “You take pride in these colors as if you were a noble knight fighting the Saracens in the Holy Land, when in fact you are an evil, base man.”

A muscle throbbed in his jaw. His eyes betrayed the look of a wounded predator. He tore his gaze away and marched to the wine cabinet. He uncorked a cognac decanter and poured four fingers into a snifter. He tossed his head back and downed the entire glass.

Her voice echoed the frost in her eyes. “Take me back to Kingston or the entire fleet will swoop down on you and chase you to Kingdom Come. Do not presume for a moment that Viscount Silverlake will abandon his fiancée in the hands of a despicable pirate!”

Eros tipped the decanter over his snifter. “Are we discussing the same fiancée who up and left in the middle of the night because she preferred to travel the world with said pirate?”

“You know perfectly well I changed my mind at the last minute. You abducted me! You can hang for this!”

He shot her a hard look. “Why don’t you swim back to Silverlake and tell him so yourself? I’m certain he’d see the humor in it, as I do. A word of caution—the Caribbean is infested with sharks. Better swim fast.” He sauntered to the mirror and set his snifter on the dresser. He stiffly shrugged out of his shirt and examined his torso in the mirror.

The sight of his tanned, sculpted body still had the power to put her heart in a state, but his behavior tonight made Alanis question her heart’s acuity. A large crimson stain blotted his white bandage. His wound must have opened when she jabbed an elbow in his ribs earlier. Eros swore and drained his snifter. She now understood his sudden attachment to the cognac. An alarm bell went off in her head. Drunken men tended to be vile and savage, but this pirate was vile and savage when he was sober. How would she deal with him smashed out of his wits? “I won’t fix it this time,” she informed him. “You cannot behave as a bully and expect kindness in return.”

“So who asked you?” He splashed water into a basin and washed his face. Sleeking his wet fingers through his dark mane, he met her eyes in the mirror. “Make yourself comfortable. You are not going anywhere, Alanis.”

She untied her cape and dropped it on a chair. “What do you intend to do with me?”

Eros tied his hair and caught her gaze again. “The lowly serf is taking you home.”

Lud. “Home?”

“Home. England. Grandfather. Rings a bell?” He concentrated on removing his bandage.

She wondered if this nightmare was his idea of retribution for the silly things she had said to Lucas about him. Obviously he had overheard. “One remark doesn’t merit the ruination of my life! I saved you from a hanging and from bleeding to death. The least you can do is set me free.”

His irritation took the form of exasperation. “I can’t set you free, Alanis. I wish I could. Regardless of your low opinion of me, this is not about getting even.”

“Then what is it about?” she snapped, and instantly knew the answer. “You are doing this to help your sister.” How could she have been so blind, so gullible? “You lied to me. You never intended to show me the places we talked about. The entire thing was a charade.”

“I didn’t force you. I offered a temptation and you took it. You were as eager to escape Jamaica as I was to get you out. You found the note and came after me, remember?”

“I trusted you!” How could she have misjudged him so? How could she have fallen for his false charm? He was ruthless, and not because he wielded swords and daggers better than most, but because he was chillingly clever, sly as a viper, and totally bereft of a conscience. “What sort of a world creates such an utterly ruined creature, destitute of any humanity?”

He bore her fury without flinching. “This world, Alanis. This world.”

“How sad for this world and how sad for you. Your world is not worth exploring. I’d be better off at home.”

“I’m certain you would.”

His answer only succeeded in reinflaming her temper. “You bloody hypocrite!”

Eros sighed. “She’s my little sister. I’d do anything for her. Anything. She loves Silverlake, and you were in the way. Nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal? It’s personal to me, you bastard! It’s my life, my honor, my dream you ripped to shreds. So don’t you dare tell me it isn’t personal! It’s as personal as it gets.”

He turned around and trapped her in his brilliant blue gaze. “So is kissing me one moment and becoming nauseated the next. I imagine we both had our illusions shattered tonight.”

He threw her aback. Did he really take offense when she refused to go with him? She could easily explain what made her change her mind on the beach, but in a spirit of feminine revenge she chose not to. She whirled around and began pacing the room. She had to deal with her new predicament. Her grandfather would wring her neck, justifiably. And Lucas, he was her friend and she had treated him as an enemy, believing Eros to be her rescuer. She decided one last time to appeal to his sense of decency, although she sincerely doubted he possessed any. “Please take me back,” she said, sounding exasperated to death. “I pose no threat to your sister’s happiness. Believe it or not, I did wish them Godspeed when I left. I hope they marry. All I want is to enjoy a month of sunshine in Jamaica. Surely you have better things to do than to see me home.”

“If I take you back, your fiancé won’t have the backbone to marry my sister. He loves her, but he considers her beneath him. As you do me. Believing we eloped will induce him to wed her. He’ll feel betrayed, rejected, dishonored. He’ll consider marriage to her as proper payback.” His tone softened. “She’s in love with him, you’re not. Why spoil it for her?”

He was right, and knowing her response to his kisses brought him to the conclusion made her feel even worse. She recalled the superlatives used by the Jamaican gentlemen to depict the Vipers of Milan: a fierce lot who put a chill in the hearts of their peers and cunning to the last degree. “How it must please you I played my part of ingénue perfectly in your clever game.”

“It wasn’t a game.”

“Then why did your sister warn me you were not what you seemed? She implored with me to remain in Kingston.”

His jaw muscle pounded. “Gelsomina knows me well. You should’ve heeded her advice.”

“So you’re not only a thief and a pirate, you’re vain as well, which ranks next in turpitude with your other inspiring qualities.” She resumed prowling his cabin. She halted at the door.

“You know the door is locked,” Eros reminded her while examining the new dressing he had applied to his wound. It failed to stop the bleeding, so he dispensed with it altogether and fed his dagger to the candle flame. “And even if it weren’t, what grand routes of escape did you have in mind? Swimming with the sharks or practicing your charms on my men? Believe me, Alanis, running on deck in this gown will get you the opposite attention of what you hope.”

“There must be one decent fellow onboard your raft, Charon.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. My men haven’t had a woman in months. They’d be overjoyed to keep you onboard for a spell.”

Cursing herself for being all sorts of fool, her eyes fell on his leather belt, casually draped over an armchair. It carried his brace of pistols. Daringly she drew one of the pistols and aimed it at the sinewy back standing at the mirror. “Turn—this—craft—around. Now!”

Eros dropped his dagger and turned around to confront her. Before her eyes he transformed from a tired, injured, slightly inebriated man to a night prowler. His expression personified cold restraint. He began stalking her, his brilliant eyes quietly assessing their prey. “Put the pistol down, Alanis. You don’t know how to use it and you might hurt yourself trying to shoot me.”

“I don’t want to shoot you, but you brought this situation on your own head,” she blurted, backing away. “You cannot shape my life to suit your needs. Whatever I do or wherever I go should be my decision and my decision alone.” She glanced at the silver piece in her hands and moved a shaky thumb to cock it. She was not an experienced shot, but she knew how men used the blasted thing. Whether she’d have the nerve to pull the trigger was a wholly different matter.

He slowly advanced toward her. “You don’t hate me enough to shoot me, so I suggest you put it down before you hurt yourself or force me to do something I sincerely don’t want to do.”

“You are absolutely correct. I don’t hate you. I loath you,” she hissed, but what she really loathed was her wretched reaction to him. Even now, she still felt the rush his proximity always managed to stir. “Why did you have to be so low and deceitful? You used me. You manipulated my feelings. Are you truly heartless? You only pretend to be human?” Tears swam in her eyes.

Eros halted. His razor-sharp gaze shifted between her teary face and the pistol, trying to contrive a way to get it away from her without inflicting damage on either of them. He must have realized even nonviolent females were capable of making madcap decisions when they felt cornered. “If you put the pistol down, I’ll reconsider returning you to Kingston.”

“You’re lying!” Her knuckles whitened around the silver handle. “You have no intention of returning me there.”

“And you have no intention of killing me,” he pointed out gently. “We both know that.”

“We know nothing!” Hurt and disappointed, she recalled the incredible kiss they shared on the beach an hour ago. Labeling herself a fool was an understatement; her idiocy was beneath contempt. She raised her free hand to wipe her tears. Eros bolted forward. She panicked. Unable to shoot him, she turned around and, acting on impulse, shot the lock on his cabin door. An awful blast exploded in her ears; steely arms wrapped her from behind. Startled shouts sounded above deck. Wild-eyed, she stared at the smoky door. A hole the size of her fist appeared next to the lock. She had absolutely not a bloody drop of luck tonight.

“You wild, willful tigress! What the devil were you thinking?” Eros growled in her ear. He clutched her wrist and forced the pistol out of her hand. He shoved its barrel down the back of his breeches and spun her around to face him. He was furious; gripping her shoulders, he shook her so forcefully her head fell back, and she was looking straight into his blazing blue eyes. “You could have hurt yourself, Alanis, are you aware of that? What if the bullet had hit metal instead of wood and bounced off? You would have been killed, you silly, temperamental baggage!” He clutched her chin and skimmed her pale complexion down to her toes, making sure everything was in one piece. Alanis gaped at him, surprised to find genuine concern in his eyes. How could one be despicable and considerate at the same time? “Al diavolo! I’ve a strong mind to tie you up to a bedpost and keep you here until the end of the voyage.”

Heavy boots scurried down the companionway. Somebody banged on the door. “Capitano, what happened?” Giovanni bellowed outside. His mates voiced their own concerns.

“Nothing!” Eros barked over her shoulder. He released her, and she turned around to look at the closed door. An eye appeared in the hole, and someone outside gave a bark of laughter. She noticed that the peeping eye kept changing. The curious gang of the Alastor was taking turns spying into the cabin. Eros walked to the door, yanked the silk cloth off his queue, and stuffed it inside the gap, blocking someone’s eye. “Va bene, monkeys, the joke is over. Buonanotte.”

“Good night to you, too, Capitano. If you need us, shoot!” The snickering and backslapping diminished as boot heels retreated down the corridor, returning to minding their own business.

Alanis was not so fortunate. Meeting Eros’s angry eyes and grim determination, her pulse quickened. Tonight she learned how it felt to be a panther’s quarry. With hair-raising resolve he bounded in her direction. She shrieked and dashed away, taking shelter behind a bedpost. Warily, she watched him through the purple silk bed shades as he slowly closed the gap between them.

Eros stopped at the bedpost closest to the one she was clutching and put his hand on the sculpted pillar. “I’d love to know what goes on in that tortuous female mind of yours. Why the devil did you shoot the door? Did you think getting past it would deliver you obstacle-free to Jamaica? Or perhaps you were unable to stomach my despicable lowly self’s company for another minute? One word and I would have installed you in a private cabin. In fact, as soon as you hand over your purple stones that is precisely where you’ll find yourself.”

Alanis stared at him in astonishment. “You can’t have my jewels, you greedy brute! You deserved having your door blasted. I wish I shot you instead.”

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sending a silent plea for patience. He snapped two fingers together. “Come, come. Let’s have the damned jewels and you’re off to a separate cabin.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Never!”

“You can’t keep them unless you care to spend the next three weeks locked up. And the same goes for your fancy plums. I won’t have you parading the deck as a multicourse meal, drawing too much attention, muddling my men’s already soggy brains, and snubbing me at every opportunity. I still have some of my sister’s old clothes onboard. I think they’ll fit.” And at her appalled expression, he deliberately scanned her figure. His eyes lingered on her heaving bosom. A voracious smile expended on his lips. “You may find them a bit snug in some places, though.”

Her cheeks turned cherry red. “No gentleman would dare speak of such matters.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Eros folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the post. “I never professed to being a gentleman. Too many taxing restrictions. I, tesoro, am free to do as I please, including undressing unwilling females,” he drawled, mentally licking his chops.

She gave him a disparaging look. “You may roll that lolling tongue back into your mouth. You may not be a gentleman, but I am a lady.”

His grin broadened into a full-blown smile. “All the more interesting.”

She assessed her situation, contemplating how to elude him. Her back was to the wall, to her left was more furniture with the open ports beyond, to her right his bed, and directly in front of her was the devil himself. He took a step toward her, his lips twisting in a wry smile.

“Looking for a getaway? There are hardly any hiding places in my cabin. So why don’t you hand over your pile of treasures and we shall call it a night, hmm?”

“May the devil take you!” she muttered at his amused face.

“The devil and I are on best of terms. In fact, we’re close acquaintances. At times, it’s hard to tell us apart.” He came closer, trapping her between his arms and the wall. She shivered. Not with fear. She was too agitated to be afraid. What she felt, to her dismay, was a consuming need to touch him. In the dim light, his skin looked as dark as chocolate, stretching over firm tendon.

Eros watched her. He must have sensed the charged air between them, for his grin vanished and in its stead searing want darkened his eyes. He plunged his fingers in her hair, luxuriating in its silken wealth. “What am I to do with you?” he asked huskily, drawing her head closer to his. “You are painfully beautiful and I’m very drunk. My due for sainthood is hanging by a thread.”

Heat surged through her wanton body. Her voice was a faint, rugged whisper. “I know you are many things, Eros, but I don’t think you are a rapist.”

He splayed his large hand on her neck and slowly ran it along her bare shoulder, caressing her skin. “But that is the problem, Amore. I don’t think it would be rape.”

She swallowed, cursing the familiar currents snaking through her body. She now knew how Eve felt in the Garden of Eden when inveigled by the serpent she took the forbidden apple. She arched her neck and turned her head aside to shun temptation. “It would.”

“Would it?” the Viper whispered as he tasted her neck, gulping the perfume clinging to her skin. Groaning softly, his tongue and lips paved a trail of fire to the vulnerable hollow between her neck and shoulder. Alanis stood still, fighting the narcotic spell causing her eyelashes to sink languidly. She was battling two powerful enemies, not one: Eros and her crazy attraction to him. Succumbing would be the poorest choice she ever made. What were Jasmine’s exact words? His amorous conquests always begin with lust and end with tears. Not his tears. She had to resist. If she cared to keep something of her ravaged self-esteem she must resist.

His thumb traced her soft pink lips. “Why did you change your mind on the sand tonight?”

She held his gaze, her breath shallow against his thumb. “What relevance has it now? You never intended to take me to the places we talked about anyway.”

“Did you think I’d leave you with another man? Even if my sister hadn’t met that imbecile, I would have done the exact same thing. Silverlake was not the man for you, Alanis, and deep down inside you know it.” He caressed her lips with his, letting their warm breaths merge. Rich cognac fumes filled her head. God, how she wanted him to kiss her, but would he stop at that? “Tell me you don’t feel as I do, Amore, and I’ll let you have your own cabin tonight.”

Alanis shut her eyes, anticipation of his kiss fogging her senses. She wanted her own cabin, an inner voice insisted, but her lips seemed incapable of uttering the words.

Eros leaned into her body. “You don’t give a damn about him,” he whispered sultrily to the curve of her jaw. “It’s me you want, regardless of my black soul and pitiable lowly birth, and the curse of it is that I want you too.” His white teeth gently grazed her jaw. “Badly.”

Alanis nearly melted to the floor. Heart pounding, she leaned against the wall, drugged by the rich musky scent filling the shadows, by the full-blooded male blockading her senses. She flattened her hands on his chest, slightly pushing, slightly gliding over his sinuous, velvety skin.

“I want my own cabin,” she whispered, amazed at the self-preservation she still possessed.

“No, you don’t.” He caught her nape and locked their lips together. His tongue invaded her mouth, but the sensation was an overall invasion. She whimpered in response, and before she realized what she was about she entwined herself around him, refusing to let go. He danced them to his bed and came down on top of her. His kisses became softer, sweeter, making her feel she was the treasure he’d been searching for his entire destitute life and now that he had it he wasn’t about to give it up. She writhed beneath him, terrified of how she felt, of how he made her feel.

“Eros…” She caressed his cheek. His stubble felt as silky soft as the stuff on his head.

He lifted himself on his forearms. His jet mane spilled around her face; his eyes glittered as gems. “How did we come to this, Alanis? Were we doomed to become lovers?”

New panic signals pulsed in her head. She wanted to kiss him and caress him, but was she prepared to throw her life away on a moment’s craziness? “I think…this has gone far enough.”

“Don’t think.” He nibbled her lips, seducing her reason, artfully kindling her desire.

A sob of yearning welled in her throat. The abyss in her soul cried for him, eager to absorb him into the lonely chambers of her heart. She run her hands through his flowing black mane and met the hungry strokes of his tongue with soft, feminine purrs.

Eros moved aside, pulling her on top of him. He unclasped her gown. Expertly, he unlaced her undergarments, then fastened his hands to her sides and dragged the garments off.

Heartbeats roared in her ears. She could scarcely breathe or think as with incredible speed Eros removed the rest of her clothing items one after the other, tossing them to the carpet. When she had nothing on except her chemise and modish short drawers, he rolled on top of her. He lay between her smooth, curvy thighs and ground his loins against her softness. The rock-hard front of his breeches squashed the frills on her drawers, exciting her in unmentionable ways.

“Santo Michele…” he echoed her own muddled thoughts as he pressed his hot mouth to a creamy swell of breast. His teeth found a firm nipple through the chemise’s thin fabric…

Her nails stabbed his muscular back; her body arched beneath his, awakening to deep dark cravings. This was no harmless seduction. She had to call the insanity to a halt! Was about to…

Eros pulled away. Grating his teeth on a stream of Italian profanities, his forehead wilted on hers. He shut his eyes, breathing ruggedly. Alanis felt both relieved and concerned. “Eros.” She framed his face with her hands. “Is it your injury? Is it bleeding again? Let me look at it.”

He opened his eyes and regarded her opaquely, unwaveringly. He reached behind her neck and unclasped her necklace. Too shocked to move or voice a word of protest, she felt him removing her bracelet and earrings. When he had her entire small fortune, he sat up. He slipped the stones into his pocket and plowed the roots of his hair, bracing his elbows on his knees.

Alanis bolted up and glared at his profile. She felt chilled to the bone. Sensing her eyes on him, Eros raised his head. He seemed stunned at his own ruse. Cold as ice, her hand came up and cracked hard across his cheek. “Touch me again and I swear I’ll kill you,” she vowed.

A moment passed. Though she discerned shock in his eyes, his face tolerated her assault woodenly. He wasn’t a man, she realized. He was an icicle. Stiffly he rose off the bed and went for the cognac bottle. He didn’t bother with a glass. He gulped it down, shutting his eyes.

“There’s a toll on the spirit for leading the life you do,” she said quietly. “Conscience, the torturer of the soul, unseen, does fiercely brandish a sharp scourge within. Even you yourself to your own breast shall tell your crimes, and your own conscience be your hell.”

“What would you know about hell, about conscience, or about anything?” He let out a ragged sigh. “I did you a favor just now.”

“A favor? You are a lying, petty thief. I hope you burn in hell!”

He met her glinting aquamarine eyes. “You’ll probably get your wish.”

She glanced at the medallion swaying across his chest. “You adorn yourself with beautiful emblems, but in your case the viper is a slithering, contemptible excuse for a man! You do the crests a great injustice keeping them around you. My sympathy is with their rightful owner.”

His gaze veered to the antique crest. Its inscription read: FRAN-CISCUS SFORTIA DUX MEDIOLANI QUARTUS. His lips twisted derisively. “Yes, I stole the emblems from the excellent nobleman who is the current link in the illustrious dynasty. Does it shock you, my prim, delicate lady? Does this new piece of information put another blotch on my evil, base character?”

Alanis eyed him impassively. “Nothing you do will shock me ever again.”

“Good. Then it won’t shock you to put on a pair of my sister’s breeches, because that is what you will wear for the duration of this voyage.”