Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (48 page)

"I ache for you, little one. I need you desperately. Do you know what it felt like to board my ship tonight, knowing you would be here?"

"No," she whispered through trembling lips. She only
knew that he was stamping his ownership on her body, and she would belong to him forever.

Judah could not wait any longer. His flesh cried out for
this woman. He gently pulled her beneath him and parted
her thighs, and her body arched to meet his glorious
thrust. His searing entry was made easier by the moistness
of hen

Judah was powerful and strong, yet with Liberty, he
was gentle. He took her slowly and easily, filling her body
and filling every empty void in her life. He was everything
a young girl could ever hope for in her hero, and more—
so much more.

As their bodies moved together in perfect unison,
Judah's hot breath fanned her lips. "Kiss me," he whis
pered. "Help me forget the things I witnessed today."

Liberty heard his cry and took his head between her hands, guiding his lips down to her mouth. She would
help him forget the men he had seen die. She would give him so much of herself that he would be unable to think
about anything else.

Judah's body trembled as her soft hands moved down
his spine to clamp his waist. The sweet aroma of her was
in his heart, embedded in his brain, filling his mind and
his being. She had the power to make him a beggar if she
but knew it. A groan escaped his lips as she arched her
hips, taking him further inside her. It was bliss, it was
seething excitement. Rigid pulsating fire emptied from his
body into hers, filling her with the life-giving miracle.

For a moment everything stopped. There was no life
outside this room, there were no feelings outside what
they were feeling. They were suspended in time, carried
away by a feeling every man and woman hope to find, but
few ever do. Wave after wave of sensuous feelings bonded
them together. They were two halves that became a whole.
It had been so perfect —a thing of beauty and unreality.

When Judah could speak past the lump in his throat,
his voice was husky in her ear. "You are mine, Liberty.
You always have been, you always will be."

How could he know? she wondered. Could he have
guessed that she had loved him from that very first night
they met?
"Oui"
she said, against his lips. "I am your wife."

Suddenly, just having her for his wife was not
enough—Judah needed to hear her say she loved him. He
rolled over and clasped her to his manly chest. "Liberty,
how do you feel about me?" He hoped she would say that
she loved him. He was tense as he waited for her reply.

Liberty longed to confess her love, but she could not.
She had been hurt too many times by the people she
loved. How could she tell Judah she loved him, knowing
he loved her sister? There were two things she didn't want
from Judah, pity and disgust. If she admitted her love for
him, it might bring out both.

"I am most grateful to you, Judah. I did not get a
chance to thank you properly for the Christmas presents
and-"

He cut off her words as he jerked her against him. He
wanted to hear her speak of love, not gratitude. Perhaps it was too soon to expect her to have the same deep
feelings he had. She was so young yet. If he were patient,
and proceeded slowly to court her affections, she might
learn to love him. They had not had the chance to spend
much time together. They must get to know one another
better.

Liberty softly touched his golden hair, wondering why
he had become so silent and withdrawn. She loved the
way he held her in his strong arms; it gave her a feeling of
belonging. She loved him so desperately, she wondered if she could keep him from finding out how much she cared
for him.

"I have a surprise that I think will please you, Liberty,"
Judah said, resting his face against hers. "At least I hope it will please you."

She nestled her head against the crook of his arm and
snuggled as close to him as she could get. "I like sur
prises—good surprises."

He laughed deep in his throat. She could be so ador
able that she melted his heart. "What would you say if I
told you I was taking you to a beautiful tropical island with me?"

Joy surged through her. "Oh, Judah, that would make me so happy. I would so love to be on an island with you."

He traced her lips with his finger. "Would you, love?"

"Oh,
oui
. . . but can I just leave like this —I mean without letting anyone know?"

He chuckled. "You are my wife, who else would you like to tell?"

"I . . . your mother and grandfather."

"I have already informed them. They both wish us a
happy voyage. As a matter of fact my mother knew you
would be needing a few things so she packed a bag for
you. She hopes you will not mind wearing some of her
gowns. When we arrive at our destination you can buy
whatever you desire."

"Your mother is always so kind," Liberty said, still
having misgivings about just sailing away and leaving her
responsibilities behind. "But I do not feel right about leaving Briar Oaks. There is so much to do."

"All you have to do for the next few months is be
young and carefree . . . and keep me happy." Judah could
not tell Liberty that he was taking her away because he
feared for her safety. She had been used as a pawn to trap
him; he couldn't take a chance on that happening again.
When General Jackson had asked Judah to go on this mission for him, Judah had known he could not leave Liberty at the mercy of others.

Happiness warmed her heart as she nestled her cheek
against his. "When do we leave?"

"With the morning tide."

Liberty was confused. "But the war—the British?"

"The war is all but over, Liberty. Jackson scored a
tremendous victory today. All that remains is the mopping up, and they don't need me for that."

"Why are you leaving now?"

"General Jackson has asked a favor of me and I could
hardly refuse." His eyes darkened. "Besides, this is my
chance to settle an old score for my father."

"Is it anything you can talk about?"

"Not to any extent. I have given my word that what I do will be a secret."

"It is dangerous isn't it?"
Judah smiled. "The only danger I see for me ... is you."

"I am serious."

"So am I."

Sensing that Judah did not want to talk about his mission, she changed the subject. "I am glad you are taking me with you."

His hand slid over her soft shoulder. He dared not tell
her that he was taking her with him because he didn't
trust Sebastian not to harm her if he left her behind. He
could not even chance leaving her with his grandfather, for he feared Sebastian would find a way to get at her.

"Will the war be over when we return?" she inquired,
absently winding a strand of his golden hair around her
finger.

He drew in a deep breath. "I hope so, Liberty. I saw things today that I want to forget. I never thought I would say this, but I admire and respect the English for
the way they fought. They came at us out of the mist, and
they kept coming even though our men kept cutting them
down. They stepped over the dead bodies of their own
and still kept coming. I have never before seen, nor do I
ever expect to see, such bravery. They had to know they
were going to die."

Liberty clasped him to her as if he were a child who needed comforting. He was so brave and daring that it was hard to think of him having any weaknesses. She knew tomorrow he would have pushed his troubled thoughts aside, but tonight he needed her.

"Judah, I suppose many good men were killed today on
both sides. That is war, and it will continue to be so as long as one man covets what another man has."

He smiled. Already the pain of the day was beginning to fade from his mind as he was caught in her web of
warmth. "So young and so wise," he murmured, moving
his mouth across her face and finding her velvety-soft lips.

Judah slid his hands through her silken hair, and
Liberty's blood rushed through her. Then, as his hands
moved over her naked flesh, she wondered if she would
always feel this earth-shattering desire each time he touched her.

As if he had read her mind, he said, "I die inside when
I am near you and cannot touch you, Liberty. My body
aches to possess you. Never keep yourself from me." His
whispered words were threaded with agony.

Liberty closed her eyes, not fully understanding what
he needed from her. She sighed as she allowed her sense
of touch to take over her being. Judah might not love her,
but he had to recognize how perfectly their bodies com
plemented one another—he had to.

Liberty had been at sea for three weeks and she had
loved every moment she'd spent aboard the
Winged Vic
tory.
She relished the feel of the rolling deck under her feet, the invigorating aroma of salty air.

Her days were spent learning about the ship and what
made it work; the crew was only too happy to explain their duties to her. Sometimes she would go below and help Ira, the cook, or just lie in the captain's cabin,
reading one of Judah's books. Several times Judah had
allowed her to take the wheel, and he was teaching her some shipboard terms.

Liberty gloried in the feeling of power she got from
turning the wheel at a spoken command from Judah. She
could see now why men went to sea; nothing could match
the exhilaration of being master of one's own fate.

Liberty was even beginning to believe her father had been right when he had said she would one day bloom into a flower. Under Judah's gentle guidance, she was indeed blooming and becoming pretty.

While her days were spent in happy pursuit of new
adventures and in learning, her nights were spent in total
bliss. Judah, the patient lover, introduced her to joys of the body and the spirit that she had never dreamed existed. When she lay in his arms after he had made passionate love to her, she wished they could sail on
forever and never reach land. As long as they were on the
Winged Victory,
Judah belonged to her.

The
Winged Victory
had now reached the West Indies.
Her voyage had been blessed with bright sunny days and
star-kissed nights. As she sailed past several small islands,
Liberty tried to guess which of them was Martinique.
Apparently none, because the ship sailed on, and there was no sign that she would weigh anchor.

Liberty stood on the deck, glorying in the beauty of the
sunset. The sun's dying rays, cast against the ocean, turned the white-capped water a sparkling golden color,
and the snow-white sails of the ship billowed atop a dark
wine-colored sea. At that moment the hull of the ship lurched upward, as if in a dramatic attempt to touch the sun.

Liberty's eyes moved over the
Winged Victory,
loving
every inch of her, from the top of her sails to the
companionway that led below. Every man on deck had a
duty to perform, and each took his task seriously. Liberty
had learned that the crewmen were equally committed to
having fun when they were off duty. They danced and
lifted their voices in song. Now, however, the sail maker
was mending a torn sail, two men were lashing down the
cannons, and Philippe was taking wind readings.

Judah stood at the wheel, his legs widespread and his
eyes staring straight ahead. The gentle wind ruffled his golden hair. Since the weather was so warm, his sleeves
were rolled up, revealing his bronzed, muscular arms. His
white shirt, open at the neck, exposed the golden hair on
his chest, and Liberty's heart leapt when he turned his turquoise eyes on her and smiled with a promise of things
to come.