In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) (31 page)

He rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart. It hadn’t happened in years but the resurfaced memories were fresh. So was the pain.

Yet he knew he wasn’t the only one hurting. There was no denying how Cale had felt when he’d learned his son was alive. In the years Aidan had sailed with him, he’d rarely seen Cale smile and when he did, it didn’t usually reach his eyes. Yet upon hearing the news, his face had shone brighter than a torch. Tears had filled his normally serious eyes. He’d been thrilled. And Aidan had turned him away.

He wasn’t proud of the fact but he wasn’t sure he could have done things differently. He’d been reeling and he’d needed space and time. Well, now he’d had both and it was time to look upon the situation calmly, rationally.

Perhaps Sarah was right. Maybe Cale was as much a victim as Aidan was. After all, he’d had no way of knowing Aidan was alive. Roche’s attack had left their home ravaged and, from what Aidan remembered, there’d been a lot of blood left behind. Added to that, it had been eleven years from the time Aidan had been taken to the day he started sailing with Cale. Perhaps it was unfair to think he should have been recognized. Certainly, he hadn’t looked the same at sixteen as he had at five. Hell, he even had a different name.

And if blame needed to be laid, then an equal amount needed to be placed at his own feet. After all, how could he resent Cale for not recognizing his son when Aidan hadn’t recognized his father?

Besides, for all he knew, Cale
had
searched for him. How was he to know when he hadn’t given the man a chance to explain?

He’d have to, he knew. They needed to talk of what had happened. Cale deserved to know what became of his wife and son and Aidan needed to hear what Cale had done when he’d come home and found his family gone.

After that?

“Hell if I know,” he muttered.

*

Aidan’s head bobbed,
waking him. He scrubbed his hands over his face, tried to blink the grittiness from his eyes. He stomped his feet, flexed his fingers over the wheel. He couldn’t keep this up much longer and much as he hated to wake Chunk or Lucky, he’d need to. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep and veer off course. Besides, like his crew, he too needed to be ready for what the morning would bring. Still, he figured he could manage a bit longer.

He shrugged out of his coat, figuring if his body were cooler it would help keep him awake. He hoped. He was tossing it aside when Chunk stepped through the main hatch.

Thank God.

Chunk lumbered up the steps to the quarterdeck. “I was awake, thought you might be ready for a break.”

“Thanks. I was thinking the same thing, but was going to give you a few more minutes. You went through more tonight than I did.” He couldn’t see much of Chunk’s bruises in the shadows but knew they were there.

Chunk waved aside the concern. “I’ve had worse. We all have. Go on now, I’ve got her.”

Aidan gladly stepped back, relinquished the helm. “I won’t be too long.”

“Take your time, Cap’n. I’ve had my rest.”

“I’ll be in my cabin if you need me.”

Everyone aboard knew Sarah was in Aidan’s cabin. While it certainly wouldn’t be the first time they’d be in there together every other time had been during the day. But it was the middle of the night and Sarah would clearly be asleep. If Aidan were going down there now, it was clear he intended to share the bed.

He held Chunk’s stare, waited for his first mate to speak, to tease again, as it was clear the man had something on his mind.

“She surprised a lot of people today, and I’d be at the top of that list.” Chunk cleared his throat. “Billy said she took real good care of Jacques.”

Aidan had no idea where Chunk was headed with his comment, but he certainly couldn’t deny the man’s words. She’d taken exceptional care with Jacques.

“In fact, she took great care with everyone.”

“Everyone?” Aidan frowned.

“After the burials, when she went down to help Slim with the meal?”

“Yes?” She’d volunteered, amazing him again with her generosity. He’d known she was exhausted but she wouldn’t rest until the others could as well.

“Well, she wouldn’t let any of us have our supper until she’d cleaned and tended our cuts, ensured, she said, that nobody else would die.”

Aidan raised a brow. “And they let her?”

Chunk’s laughter rumbled out of his chest. “Let her? There was no way around her. She was adamant and when Slim tried to slip a plate past her she snarled at him, threatened to shoot him if he tried it again. Then she said that unless the rest of us wanted to go hungry, we needed to let her have a look at our wounds.”

Bloody hell, what had she been thinking? Granted, nobody was likely to shoot her with him on board but they all outweighed and overpowered her.

“She must have been terrified.”

“Not that you’d know it.” Chunk chuckled. “She held her ground and eventually we all got what we wanted.”

Aidan shook his head. He couldn’t imagine it. If there hadn’t already been a mutiny she could have very well caused one.

“Nobody said a word to me,” Aidan muttered.

“Truth be told I think they enjoyed being fussed over.” Chunk tucked his tongue into his cheek. “Her hands are soft and she smells nice.”

A fist of jealousy slammed into Aidan’s gut. He hadn’t seen Sarah much after the burial. She’d gone below to help Slim then later had come up on deck—the main deck, not where he’d been—and stood at the gunwale looking out, silent and unmoving. She hadn’t stirred until he’d gotten Lucky to take the wheel and moved toward her. Just as he’d approached she’d turned, wished him good night, and disappeared into his cabin. He hadn’t seen her since. Now he wondered if perhaps she’d fled so quickly because one of the men had grabbed her or hurt her and she hadn’t wanted to burden him. By God if they had he’d—

Chunk cupped Aidan’s shoulder. “You can get that look off your face, Cap’n, nobody touched her.”

Aidan nodded, forced his muscles to relax.

“All I meant was that the men appreciated her tending, especially since we all know we did nothing to earn it, given how we’ve treated her.” He waited until Aidan nodded then lowered his hand. “We have, however, come to a conclusion.”

He was almost afraid to ask. “And what would that be?”

Chunk grinned. “That she’s adopted.”

Aidan’s laugh burst from his lips. “I’ve thought the same thing myself.”

Chunk sobered. “A woman like that is rarer than that treasure Nate and Claire found all those years ago. Be a shame to let it slip away.”

It was Aidan’s turn to be serious. “Just because you find a treasure, it doesn’t make it yours. I’ll be back in a few hours. If I’m not here at sunrise, come get me.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

He’d meant what he’d told Chunk. Sarah wasn’t his. She deserved a man who would put her first, who would love her as she deserved to be loved. Aidan knew he wasn’t that man. Yet despite having told himself distance between them was essential, he headed directly for his cabin. While he could argue that he’d rest better on a bed rather than the deck, he knew the real reason. Even knowing she wasn’t his to keep, he needed to be near her. Since leaving Captain’s they hadn’t had a moment together and he’d missed it. He missed her closeness, missed talking to her, hearing the goodness in her voice. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, feel the silkiness of her hair slide through his fingers.

He eased the hatch closed behind him, crept down the ladder.

Despite only having had the ship a handful of days, Aidan had spent enough time on the
Revenge
and in the cabin to find his way easily to the bed without the benefit of light. Even if he hadn’t known it as well as he did, he’d only have needed to follow Sarah’s soft breathing, which drew him like a siren’s song.

Aidan pulled off his boots, coat and weapons, set them aside and crawled in behind Sarah, who was curled on her side facing the wall.

She shrieked, the sound jolted Aidan and pierced his ears.

“It’s me, only me,” he soothed.

“Aidan.” She exhaled. “You scared me to death.”

He’d scared her? She’d taken a few years off his life as well. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Chunk’s taken the wheel and I need to get some rest.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Shall I go, then?” she asked.

Despite the day she’d had, how much she’d given of herself, she was still prepared to sacrifice her own sleep in order for him to have some. God, why couldn’t she be like Roche?

He reached out, caressed her cheek. “Please stay.” It was selfish of him to ask and yet impossible not to.

“Are you certain? I thought—” He felt her mouth move beneath his hand and knew she was worrying her lip.

“Thought what?”

“That you considered me soiled now that we…”

He tipped his forehead against hers. “Is that what you thought? I never once considered such a thing. When I said it in Tortuga I only meant your father might see it that way. I certainly don’t.” He remembered how she’d given him her innocence with complete trust and faith. He looked at her. “I’ve never met a finer woman. There’s nothing soiled about you.”

The bed dipped and squeaked as she moved closer. His heart began to thump and his blood heated. He would not respond, he hadn’t come to make love with her; he’d come to hold her. Hold her and rest. But her fingers tempted him, dancing across his cheeks, over his temples and plunging into his hair. Her mouth was close; he felt the moistness of her breath. Desire poured through him even before her lips took his. Once her sweet mouth was on his, desire turned to need.

He hadn’t considered himself helpless since Sam had saved him from Mr. Grant but in Sarah’s embrace, with her smell intoxicating his senses and the feel of her stealing every thought that didn’t include her, Aidan felt his control slip from his grasp.

She tipped her head back, inviting his mouth on her neck. God, he loved how soft her skin was there, how she trembled when he nuzzled behind her ear.

“Sarah,” he whispered as he nipped his way up the column of her throat. “I didn’t come for this.”

He could have bitten off his tongue when she stiffened, tried to push him away. How did he keep hurting her when it was the last thing he wanted to do? Aidan took her hand, raised it to his lips. If only it weren’t so bloody dark he could read what was in her eyes.

“I truly did come to sleep. I don’t want you thinking I came here with any expectations.”

She was silent a long while then softly said, “Is it wrong if I have some?”

“Hell, Sarah.” He groaned. His hand tightened on hers. Like a man slipping off a cliff, he dug in, tried once more. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

She pulled her hand from his, tugged his shirt from his trousers and splayed her hands around his waist. He squirmed and only partly due to being ticklish. Her hands were warm on his flesh, soft and tender. For a man who made his life in piracy, there was little tenderness to be had.

“I want you to lie with me, touch me.”

Aidan bore down on his lust, fought not to take what she was offering. He had no more to offer this time than he had before. The
Revenge
and being Steele were his dream and he was no more prepared to let it go now than he had been earlier.

He grabbed her wrists, pulled her hands from under his shirt. It was bloody hot in his cabin yet the moment she no longer touched him he felt cold.

Keeping to his promise of always being honest he took a deep breath. “I care for you, Sarah, a great deal. It’s why I was so quick to get dressed…after. When I’m with you, it’s so damn easy to forget everything else but no matter how much I care for you, want you, it doesn’t change the facts. I’m Sam Steele. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and it’s selfish and unfair to take what you’re offering when I have nothing to offer in return.”

There, he’d said it. He hadn’t choked on the words, though it had been close and he could do with a gallon of water.

She maneuvered her wrists free only to grasp his hands. “Aidan, we could be dead tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your confidence,” he said wryly.

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. We don’t know how far behind my father is or how soon he’ll catch us. If we’re lucky we’ll make it to shore first, if not…

“I planned my escape because I’d already lived nearly eighteen years as a prisoner. I swore to myself that if I ever got out, I’d not take freedom for granted. I would savor every moment, good or bad, because either way it was more than I’d had before.”

Damn it, he was lost. It didn’t matter what else she said, he knew he wouldn’t refuse her.

Because he’d never had someone like Sarah Santiago in his life before and he, too, intended to savor. He kissed her brow, her nose.

“Tomorrow is uncertain. Life is uncertain. But my wanting to lie with you? I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

He didn’t deserve her, and he knew taking her again would only make leaving that much harder for both of them. He took her mouth anyway, kissing her long and slow while easing her onto her back. Her hands stroked him, chest and shoulders before slipping into his hair. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, of the feel of her body against his, of the mewing noises she made in the back of her throat. Even the navy wouldn’t be able to drag him away now.