A Pirate's Heart (St. John Series) (22 page)

She arched her body to him as he entered her. She could feel his maleness moving slowly, methodically in and out of her body and her breathing increased. She could feel each movement deep inside her and she wanted more. She wrapped her legs around his body in an attempt to pull him deeper inside her.

He took his right hand and pulled her leg up higher on his side, allowing his manhood to penetrate her deeply. He gently moved inside her. It took all his control not to explode, but he wanted this to last. He wanted to make love to her slowly, tenderly. He could feel her hands move over his body and her fingers dug into his back. He closed his eyes as he allowed his body to enjoy the feel of her velvety wetness around him. The slow, methodical rhythm of his thrusts almost brought him to the edge. He began to slow down.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.” He continued moving inside her, his thrusts met by hers. And in an instant he felt her tighten around him as she exploded. A pleasurable moan escaped her throat with her release. Their climaxes were in unison and he joined her with his own explosive release.

She lay breathlessly, not wanting to move. He placed his head on her shoulder and kissed her neck. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. They stayed in this position for several minutes, neither speaking. Finally, he rolled off her, turning to his side as he pulled her to him and wrapped a possessive arm around her body. She could feel the warmth of his chest on her back. She intertwined her fingers into his. A feeling of contentment washed over her as they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kristina’s stuck the tip of her tongue out of the left side of her mouth as she thought. She studied the chessboard lying between her and Max on the bed. She touched the pawn and started to pick it up. She quickly let go of the chess piece as she contemplated her move. She readjusted the sheet covering her naked breasts. She could hear Max chuckle as she considered her move. He had her king cornered.

“You just might as well move your pawn and surrender your king. There is no way out,” he smugly said as he watched her strategize her move.

“No. There has to be another move. I cannot let you win.”

“Why not?”

“You have won the last two games. I cannot allow you to win a third.”

“Playing chess is like winning a battle at sea. You have to be patient, keep your bearings and know when to move.”

“Well, next time I think I will play naked. My breasts seem to be the only thing that distracts you,” she teased.

“Wrong. They are not yours. They are mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yes. They are my beautiful, tempting girls.”

A twinkle came to Kristina’s eyes. She dropped the sheet and allowed Max’s “girls” to be proudly displayed before him. His eyes fixated on them. He reached over and pulled her to him, knocking the chessboard over. Kristina squealed with laughter.

“Max!”

“All is fair in love and war,” he said as he pulled her down and kissed her.

She couldn’t control her laughter. “I guess this means I win.”

“For now,” he huskily replied in her ear.

“Stop, Max.”

“Why?” he asked as his kisses traveled lower. She placed her hands on his head as he took her nipple in his mouth. A faint gasp of pleasure escaped her. The romantic escapade was interrupted by Gato hopping on the bed and meowing loudly.

Max growled. “Go away,” he said as he gently pushed the kitten.

The kitten answered with another hungry, “Meow!”

Max sighed and looked at Kristina.

“It’s just as well,” she said as she traced his jaw with her finger. “It’s getting late. We can continue later.”

He kissed her lips and slid out from under her. She watched him move silently over to the washbasin and splash water onto his face. It amazed her that such a large man could be as quiet as a cat. He looked up into the mirror and saw her expression. “Yes, I will shave it off.”

She wrinkled her nose at him in response to his reply to her unspoken request.

“Besides,” he began as he pulled on his trousers, “I need to go into town today to return the horses and then go to the solicitor’s office.”

She felt her heart sink at his comment. He still planned on divorcing her. After the wonderful day yesterday and last night, it all meant nothing to him? She could feel tears of disappointment building in her eyes.

“You still plan on divorcing me? What about yesterday?”

“What about it?” he replied nonchalantly.

“Really? I thought maybe—”

“What? That I would change my mind about marriage? Women?” he replied in an indignant tone. He grabbed his shirt from the chair and pulled it over his shoulders. “Nothing has changed there.”

He was itching for a fight. He didn’t know why. The emotions stirring in his body were new to him. They had had an enjoyable past couple of days—no fighting, just enjoying each other’s company. Then, last night, as he watched her sleep, a strange sensation overtook him. It was a feeling he’d never felt before. He had hoped it was just a fleeting emotion, but this morning as they were playing chess, he realized she had stolen his heart. He belonged to her completely. He realized he loved her and it scared the hell out of him. He had witnessed Alex’s heart break at the murder of his love, Maggie. Alex nearly drank himself to death after her murder and Max did not want that same type of misery. The sooner he divorced Kristina, the easier it would be to let her leave—to get back on with his life. Kristina needed someone who would provide for her, keep her safe, love her unconditionally. He knew he would always love her and that a life as a pirate’s wife would supply the wealth to provide for her in a way she deserved. However, his lifestyle would keep her in constant danger and he would not be able to live with himself should she become injured, or worse yet killed, under his care. He needed to keep her safe and keeping her away from him would be the only way to do so. So he decided to make her so furious that she would divorce him without hesitation.

She stood and walked over to him, using the sheet like an oversized shawl. “Then why did you agree to take me? Why did you take me out for an enjoyable afternoon, if in the end you had no plan on continuing this marriage?” she asked, her heart feeling as if it were tearing into pieces.

“Show a woman a good time in public and she will give you one in bed.”

His response was met with a stinging slap to his face. “You bastard!”

His eyes lowered to a dangerous slit. “I think we both already knew that one. Try a different insult.”

“Go to hell!”

“I believe this marriage already proves I am.”

His words hit her harder than any blow. His hateful insult made her feel like someone had knocked the breath from her body.

“Fine,” she gritted out. “If you are in such misery, get the solicitor and divorce me. Give him extra coins to expedite the paperwork. But I suggest you keep your hands off me before—” She turned from him, her voice trembling so that she was unable to continue her tirade. Stomping to the wardrobe, she jerked the door open and rummaged through it, looking for a dress, fighting the tears that were building in her eyes. She found one that was easy to don, pulled it over her head and tied the ribbon around her waist.

As he watched her anger, he kept his plan in mind, even though it was tearing him apart. He forced an evil smirk to cross his face. “You are my wife and I will touch you as often as I see fit,” he needled, knowing it would fuel her temper like whale oil does a fire.

“I am
not
a piece of property to be used at your disposal. I am flesh and blood and will not be treated with anything but respect!”

“As I recall, you were a sex slave that escaped.”

He heard her quick intake of breath. He watched as her mouth dropped open and daggers shot from her eyes. A burning sensation struck his chest with the force of a cannon ball as he witnessed her fury. It felt like his soul was being torn out of his body. A hateful look crossed her face.

“Well, if I’m a
slave,
I had better start acting like one. Would you like me to begin with scrubbing the floors or mucking the stalls,
Master
!” she said, the hatred apparent in her voice.

He grabbed her by her upper arms. She knew the look in his eyes and she jerked away. “Oh, no, you don’t! Last night was the last time you enjoy my body!”

“I believe you were the one begging.”

She turned and stormed out the door, slamming it with such force a painting was knocked from the wall and crashed to the floor. As he watched her storm away, guilt overwhelmed him and he silently cursed.

“Kristina!” he yelled after her.

She ran to the staircase and could sense him closing the distance between them. She quickly straddled the banister and slid down, knowing this was the fastest descent from the upstairs landing. Remembering her lesson from the other day she jumped off right before she reached the end of the banister. She heard him yell her name again as she ran past James and out the door.

James was in the foyer, having just returned from escorting Alex to the docks. He watched with amusement as Max ran down the stairs yelling his wife’s name. “Pissed her off, did ya?”

“Shut up, James,” Max growled as he stormed past the bos’n after his wife.

He darted towards the door Kristina had exited. He ran outside and scanned the area. Walking around to the back of the house, he looked to the left, but didn’t see her. Looking to the right, he caught a glimpse of her tan day gown as she ran past several palm trees that lined the path to the beach. He walked with determined strides after her. A pained expression crossed his face as his bare foot stepped on a twig. As he neared the trees, he heard her scream of terror. His gait increased to a run, panic setting in.

Easing around the trees, he observed the scene before him. He could make out several men and one was holding Kristina. He didn’t recognize any of the men who held his wife hostage. He fought the desire to race towards her. He had no weapons, nothing to defend himself with, but his fists. Kneeling down he inched his way behind several fallen trees. He was several meters away from the group. He picked up a large branch and was about to jump out when he heard the cocking noise of a pistol behind him.

“Stand up nice and slow like,” the voice said behind him.

A deep growl exited Max as he stood and turned. His eyes narrowed as he took in the image of the portly man. “Jimmie,” he stated with hatred in his deep voice.

“Drop the club unless ya want to see how bulletproof ya are.” Max reluctantly obeyed, not wanting to get himself killed before he could rescue Kristina. “Go on now,” Jimmie said as he motioned towards the group.

Max grudgingly turned and headed towards the beach. He looked around and counted seven men. He could see their horses tied up at the edge of the beach. There were no signs of their tracks in the sand, leaving Max to conclude the group had ridden in late last night during the tide. He could feel the barrel of Jimmie’s gun pressing into his back.

“You are truly courageous against an unarmed man, aren’t you, Jimmie?” Max needled.

“Nope. Just smart enough to know not to tackle you without one.”

Max could hear Kristina telling off her captors in Spanish. He wished he could understand her. He would have loved to know what she was saying. Apparently one of the pirates did for he slapped her. Max felt his body tense and he started towards the man.

“I wouldn’t,” stated another man who approached. Max turned to find Edwin Hawkins. Max lowered his gaze to a slit.

“What are you doing here, Hawkins?”

An evil expression crossed Hawkins’s face. “I’ve come to collect what belongs to me,” he said as he looked towards Kristina. “Seems my client’s property escaped and took advantage of your . . . 
hospitality
.”

Kristina never mentioned the name of the man who had sold her to that tavern, but Hawkins’s comment was Max’s answer. Max knew what Hawkins intended to do and he was not about to let that happen. Alarm set in.  “Let her go, Hawkins.”

“No, I think not. You see, she is worth entirely too much money,” he said as he walked over to Kristina and picked up a lock of her hair. She spit in his face and her defiance was met with another slap to her cheek, knocking her to the ground.

Max rushed towards the man who had hit his wife. Before he reached her, he felt a searing pain surged through his right arm as the bullet from Jimmie’s pistol tore through his shoulder. He kept charging, but stopped when Hawkins drew his pistol and pointed it at Kristina.

Horror crossed Kristina’s face as she looked at Max. He was bleeding profusely from the gunshot that had torn into the shoulder of his already injured arm. She crawled towards him in the sand, but felt her hair being pulled back, stopping her.

“Get up, you worthless bitch.”

She cried out as she felt her body being lifted off the ground by her hair. Her hands instinctively reached up to stop the assault and were quickly bound behind her.

“Let me go!” she yelled.

“Don’t think so, love,” Tucker said as he tied a gag into her mouth.

Kristina took advantage of Tucker’s distraction and kicked his left knee, causing it to buckle. He let go of her and she turned to run only be stopped by the smelly fat pirate, Jimmie. He wrapped his short arms around her waist and held fast.

“Bind her feet!” Hawkins ordered.

Kristina felt herself being tackled to the ground. She heard Max yell and then all was quiet. She turned to find him lying unconscious on the sand, Hawkins standing above him with the butt of his gun still facing Max.

“Should we kill him?” Jimmie asked as he over to Max.

“No,” Hawkins said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to deal with Xavier coming after me. Bind him to the tree there on the beach.” He pointed to a leafless palm log. “Let the tide do what it will to him.” Jimmie nodded his head as he and Tucker dragged Max’s body over to the fallen tree on the beach.

Kristina knew it would be pointless to struggle against the binds that held her. Her struggles would only make her grow tired and weak. She needed to save her strength for escape. She felt her body being lifted off the ground and tossed over the front of the horse Hawkins was riding. As they rode away, she watched Max’s body slowly disappeared from her view as a feeling of hopelessness invaded her.

* * * *

Max awoke lying on his side to find the tide coming in. It splashed against his feet. He tried to sit up, but the bindings held him fast. He pulled against the ropes hoping to loosen them, but it was useless. The waves crashed against his feet again. He knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the crashing surf would cover him. He was too far from the house for anyone to hear his cry for help. He strained against the rope again. If he had been facing the bindings, he still would not have been able to untie the ropes that held him. Apparently, Jimmie had grown a brain and tied Max’s hands behind him before he had secured him to the fallen tree.