Into His Arms (18 page)

“‘Ampton, ye old dog!” he called out warmly. “‘Aven’t seen ye since old Morgan led all ye fools out on that raid. Thought ye’d been left be’ind, in Panama.”

“Not me, Larken,” Geoff boasted, clapping the man fondly on the back. “I’ve taken two Spanish ships since.”

“Should ‘ave known! Ye got more lives than any cat.” Larken noticed Faith, and a sly smile formed on his lips. “Ye’ve a fresh one, ‘ere. Where’d ye find this pretty little piece?”

“Mind how you talk there,” Geoff warned sternly. “This is Faith Cooper, and she’s a lady.”

“Is she then? That’s a shame. Ransom?”

Geoff shook his head. “I’m returning her to her family, no profit, out of the goodness of my heart.”

Larken laughed loudly, as if he’d never heard anything so funny in his life. “Out of the goodness of ‘is ‘eart, ‘e says.” The older man chortled. “Ye’ve gotten somethin’ fer yer trouble, I’ll wager.”

Faith couldn’t decide which was worse, the fact that Geoff had just said he was returning her to her family or that this odious man was actually his friend. Suddenly the excitement of adventure faded, and she just wanted to flee the stifling press of people, colors, sounds, and smells.

“It was very good to meet you, Mister Larken,” Faith blurted, “but I’m afraid we’ve business to attend to.” She gave Geoff’s arm a tug.

“Cap’n, not mister,” Larken corrected her. “What ye see ‘ere is from me latest cargo.”

“And this
is
our business,” Geoff added. “You’ll need new clothes.”

Faith blinked back tears of frustration. He was leaving her, and all he could think of was her wardrobe? “I don’t want new clothes,” she protested. “I want to go back to the ship.” Back to Geoff’s cabin, where the rest of the world was an ocean away, and nothing mattered but the two of them.

“Trust me,
cherie
,” a woman’s husky French accent sounded behind her, “you need the clothes.”

Faith whirled to see who had spoken to her, and her jaw dropped in astonishment. The woman that had addressed her was beautiful, in a harsh and exaggerated way. Her hair was jet black, far darker than nature could have made it. Her wide, generous lips were tinted scarlet, as were the sharp cheekbones that dominated her tanned face. Her brown eyes were heavily lined in kohl, looking sultry and exotic.

But it wasn’t her face that shocked Faith, or even her scarlet gown, cut so low that her very ample breasts nearly spilled out completely. It was the fact that the very same rouge that colored her lips and cheeks tinted the pair of nipples peeking out from the lace around her deep décolletage. The bright scarlet crests were blatantly obvious against the light lace.

The woman cast a haughty look at Faith and continued. “
Mon Dieu
, who designed that gown?
C’est tragique
, what they have done with all that gorgeous silk.”

Faith registered neither the insult nor the blasphemy. She just kept staring, open mouthed, at the woman’s chest.

“Do you like them,
cheri
?” the woman asked, leaning forward with a seductive smile. “With a tight enough bodice underneath, you might be able make something out of
vos tétons petites
.” She gestured to Faith’s modest bodice.

“Veronique!” Geoff interrupted sharply. “This isn’t a good time—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Veronique replied, “Then we should make it a good time.” She sauntered over to him, her hips swaying provocatively. “A very good time.” She breathed this last sentence, her voice even huskier. Boldly, she placed one hand on his shoulder, while the other caressed his broad chest and headed straight downward, over his flat belly.

Faith gasped, and no longer caring that she was in a strange place filled with pirates and criminals, she turned and fled up High Street. The road was lined with taverns, and drunken sailors called out to her, trying to catch her arms and skirts. Blinded by shame and anger, she shoved forcefully at the men who reached for her, then someone grabbed her arm and yanked her sharply backward.

Chapter 16

Geoff’s voice hissed in her ear. “Don’t be a fool, Faith. You cannot go running off in Port Royal by yourself!”

“Then take me back to the ship!” she snapped. “Take me back, and then you can dally with your Veronique and brag to your Captain Larken!”

Instead of heading back toward the ship, he pulled her farther up High Street. “This is hardly the place for this conversation. The inn is just at the end of this road. We’ll get a room there, and then we’ll talk.”

Faith eyed the people surrounding them and decided that perhaps there was some virtue in what Geoff suggested. The sooner they were off the street, the better. To her relief, she found that on the outskirts of town there were some fairly respectable establishments. The inn that Geoff suggested was one of them. The room was small but clean, with a wooden chair, a comfortable looking bed, and a washstand. The general din of Port Royal was dulled through the thick glass windows.

While she inspected the quarters, Geoff inspected her. His heart had been lodged firmly in his throat when she had bolted from his side at the harbor. Her shimmering blue skirts had disappeared instantly in the crushing throng, and for a sickening moment, he’d thought he’d lost her.

He could tell himself that he was only worried for her safety, but it was only half the truth.

She kept her back to him, staring out the window into the street below. “I’m safe and sound, Captain. Please, don’t let me keep you. Now that you are home, there are sure to be any number of people with whom you wish to renew acquaintance.”

Refusing to be goaded, he asked softly, “Not what you expected?”

Through her tight throat, she answered, “I knew not what to expect. I thought your friends would be like Giles. I certainly didn’t expect...” she let the sentence drift away.

Geoff doffed his hat and scratched his head. “Larken’s not a bad fellow, actually. He’s just a bit rough around the edges. And I must admit, it’s not his fault that he jumped to conclusions. I’ve certainly never escorted a lady through the streets of Port Royal before.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So I saw.”

He had the grace to blush. God, Veronique had always been hard to manage. For years, every time he made port, he would eventually find himself prying her bold hands from his person. She was hardly his type. He had ever preferred less hardened, more costly women, ones who stayed in Port Royal only long enough to earn dowries that they took back home with them to England. Still, he knew that Veronique’s life had been no easier than his, and so he tolerated her presence.

“She’s just a friend,” he protested. “Not even that really. An acquaintance.”

“An acquaintance? I was under the impression that you had rather intimate knowledge of each other. Good heavens,
I
have intimate knowledge of her! Everyone who glanced at her neckline has intimate knowledge of her!”

Geoff shrugged lightly. “And then some.”

A small sound of indignation caught in her throat. “How can you make light of this? Do you have any idea how I feel, knowing that you have touched me with the very same hands you used to touch her?”

“Nay, Faith! Never!”

“Do not lie to me!”

“How can you think that? Give me some credit! If ever I’d laid hands on Veronique, I’d pay for it with my life, in time. She may not have pockmarks, but I’ll wager every scrap of booty that ever I’ve taken she carries something I want no part of. And she’s a hard woman. But all the same, I’ll not be cruel to her. We all do the best that we can in this world.”

“You never—I mean, never with her?” Faith asked softly.

“Never with her. I swear it.”

“Nay, do not swear. I believe you. But with others like her, you have.”

“Not like her. Not so harsh or so crude, but none like you, either.”

“But you’re sending me away.”

Geoff ran a hand through his hair and sank onto the bed. “You’d hate it here.”

“I shall hate it anywhere without you. I shall hate knowing that others will replace me in your bed.”

She thought of what Giles had told her on board the ship, how Geoff had never been given love and so had stopped wanting it. Surely that was the key. She had to make him dare to want love again. Words made him close her off, but actions he would accept.

“But no one ever shall replace me, not really,” she added.

How could it be that Faith, who had once felt so timid and shy with this man, could bend her head to his and kiss him with the possessiveness she adopted as her tongue boldly explored his warm mouth? Was it some other Faith who tilted his chin and with her lips sought to send fiery trails of sensation down his slightly salty neck?

Geoff sighed and allowed his body to relax beneath her. He knew what she was about, knew that he should stop her ere she made it impossible for him leave her, but her soft hands caressed him as her mouth returned to his. Passively, he allowed her to do as she would, even as his hands traced the curve from her delicate ribs, over her slender waist, to the gentle curve of her hip. She pushed him to the mattress and looked long into his face. There was a softness there, an ease that he allowed her to see only when they made love.

She rose from on top of him. It was hard not to feel a little shy, for the full light of midday shone through the window. But she knew that it was important that she not look away, so her eyes never left his face as she unlaced the bodice of her dress.

Geoff could not tear his gaze from the enchantress before him. Her cheeks were stained a becoming shade of pink, but she did not falter. She pulled the bodice from her shoulders, soft mounds pressing against her shift. The gown slipped away from her, falling in a shimmering pool around her feet. The thin fabric of her ivory linen shift skimmed her body, moved with her, hinted at curves without fully revealing them. Down the front was the neatly mended tear that he had made when first he had taken her.

She lifted the hem of the garment, revealing shapely calves and creamy thighs, then stopped.

“You must ask,” she said.

He thought that she had gained a devilish grasp of teasing, for they had finished with his long-ago promise to Giles, but her aqua eyes were utterly serious.

“Ask?”

“Aye. You must ask me to give what I would, knowing it is more than you want.”

“Faith— “

“Nay! I do not ask for forever, only this: You would not take me and pretend it was more than my body you craved. I will not give myself to you and pretend it is only my body I give. If this is goodbye, then there must be honesty between us.”

Geoff let his eyes wander the length of her. Making love to her here, now, would only make parting all the harder. With a scowl he asked, “Is this where I’m supposed to be the one strong enough to do the right thing?”

Faith gave a little laugh, and tears stung her eyes. “Nay! My greatest fear is that you will lie there and tell me that you no longer want me.”

“Aye, Faith, I still want you. I want all that you would give me and more, but selfish bastard that I am, I’ll not offer what you would have in return.”

“I want you, Geoff. It is enough.”

She pulled the shift over her head, and his breath caught in his throat. God knew, he had seen her naked before, but only when he had undressed her, the heat of passion between them. Now, she unveiled herself, selflessly offering her body to him ere lust could color her motives. Her muscles moved with supple grace, her arms and stomach taut. Geoff had always preferred full-breasted women, but with Faith he had come to understand what some men meant when they said that more than could fill the hand was a waste.

She pulled him up by the hand and helped him remove his own shirt, then she settled in his lap again, her bare legs on either side of him, her firm backside cradled sensuously in his hands. Both knew that this was different than it had ever been. For Geoff, it was goodbye. For Faith, it was her only hope for keeping him. Their kisses were languid, and greedily they swallowed each other’s sighs.

With his hands Geoff built a fierce but tender fire within her, luxuriating in the silken feel of her delicate skin. One hand in her hair, he gently coaxed her head back to feast upon the tight bud at the summit of each breast, gratified by her gasping moans of pleasure. Shifting his weight, he laid her upon the bed.

Her hair fanned over the pillow, and he watched her even as his hand trailed up the inside of her thigh. Her legs parted willingly and her tongue moistened her lips. He began there, at her full, sweet mouth, but then moved to the end of the bed, bestowing a kiss upon her inner ankle. His lips wandered up her calf, stopped to tickle the back of her knee. Tiny bolts of lightening shot from along the back of her leg up the inside of her thigh to strike her most sensitive place. He did the same to the other leg with agonizing slowness, and she thought that she would scream if he did not touch her as she needed to be touched.

She tensed when his lips stopped short of the pale curls at the juncture of her thighs. “Geoff?” she whispered.

The musky scent of her tantalized him, and he whispered back, “Let me taste you, Faith.”

Whimpering, she dug her hands into his hair. She was his, and she would hold nothing back. “Aye,” she moaned, “oh, please, Geoff.”

The first shock of his tongue against her was swept away in the tempest that followed. Geoff plundered the honey-sweet softness she offered so willingly, her cries and the feel of her hands in his hair driving him wild. At last, she lifted her hips and strained against him, then relaxed with a husky moan. As she lay basking in the aftermath, he doffed his pants and lay beside her.

She smiled at him with feline contentment, then let her gaze wander over his sinewy chest and stomach to his tumescent manhood. Having lost all shame in the intimacy they had just shared, she studied him openly, touched him, and smiled at his indrawn breath. His shaft was firm, but the skin was as soft as velvet. He wrapped his hand about hers and set her to stroking him, his face a perfect reflection of rapture.

And yet, she wanted to give him more. Following his lead, she lowered her head and tentatively tasted the tip of him with her tongue. Emboldened by his guttural moan, she took him in her mouth, and he threaded his fingers through her hair, urging her to keep the rhythm her hand had begun.