Sea of Desire (8 page)

His mouth was firm, like the rest of him,
hinting at something dark and erotically forbidden. She gasped and
her lips parted. The touch of his tongue made Merideth jerk, but
she couldn’t contain the moan that drifted off across the
mist-shrouded cliff.

She’d been kissed before. Lord Chadwell had
maneuvered her alone into the gardens. His hands had fumbled with
her hair, and his mouth had slobbered down her neck. And she’d been
revolted.

So why wasn’t she repulsed by Jared
Blackstone? It wasn’t a civilized kiss. It was hard and forceful
and wild.

Like him.

And he was the man who had killed her
father.

Reality slammed into her, blocking the
sensual feel of his body against hers. He let loose her hands, and
now she used them to shove at him. Unlike before, he rolled away
when she pushed. But he did take hold of her arm.

What had gotten into him? Jared stared down
at the woman lying in the grass, only able to make out her shadowy
form, and shook his head. She was a traitor, and certainly someone
he couldn’t trust. He had absolutely no business kissing her. But
it was almost as if he couldn’t resist.

Damn, he was going to turn her over to Daniel
as soon as he reached France. If he ever got to France. Jared shook
his head again. And when he did, his gaze wandered out over the
channel. What he saw made him jump to his feet, grabbing Lady
Merideth up beside him.

“What is it? Where are we going?”

Ignoring Lady Merideth’s questions, Jared
searched the darkness, a grin spreading across his face when he saw
it again. “They’re still here.”

“Who’s still where?” Merideth resisted,
trying to yank away when he pulled her toward the steep steps. “I
demand to—” Air whooshed out of Merideth as she was forced against
his hard body.

“Your demanding days are over... at least for
a while. Now come along.”

“I won’t. I—ah! Put me down!” Again Merideth
found herself thrown over one of his broad shoulders. Her fists
pummeled his back and she twisted about, trying to pull loose.

“Be still unless you want to go tumbling down
the cliff.”

Merideth froze. “You wouldn’t throw me down.”
Her voice, breathless because of her awkward position, quivered.
“Would you?”

“I won’t have to. If you aren’t careful,
you’ll simply fall.”

“Then put me down and let me walk—” Merideth
grabbed his broad back, clutching the linen shirt as he moved down
the carved stairs, ignoring her request.

By the time they reached the beach,
Merideth’s head pounded. She was plopped unceremoniously in the
sand—thankfully not in the cave. The fire near the rocks still
burned.

After Merideth swiped curls from her face,
she watched him run to the blaze. He was pulling his shirt over his
head as he went.

“What are you doing?”

No response.

Merideth was getting tired of being ignored,
but she had no choice but to endure it. She could see him clearly
now, silhouetted against the orange flames. His upper body was
bare, the muscles bronzed by the fire. His dark hair, loosened from
the queue, hung nearly to his shoulders, giving him a primitive,
untamed appearance.

Merideth sucked in her breath, remembering
how close she’d come to weaving her fingers through that thick mane
of hair. Thinking of how her fingers itched to do it even
still.

He was moving his shirt in front of the fire,
then away. Signaling.

Merideth pulled her gaze from him and
searched out across the channel. At first she could see nothing but
endless miles of blackness. Then, just as she was ready to turn
away, she caught a glimpse of something.

A faint light, flashing in the distance. It
blinked three times, then there was nothing but the infinite
darkness, the rolling splash of surf on the sand. If she hadn’t
seen Jared Blackstone’s reaction, Merideth would be convinced the
sighting was a hallucination.

Her captor stood, staring out to sea, while
Merideth sat huddled on the sand. Waiting. For what, she didn’t
know.

Merideth considered running again. Jared’s
attention was focused away from her; he seemed to have forgotten
she was there. But the memory of what happened the last time she
ran stayed her.

She listened, but could hear nothing but the
crashing waves, the crackle of the fire, and her own heart pounding
in her ears. Then the colonial was wading into the surf, waving his
white shirt. Her eyes narrowed, Merideth made out the dark shape of
a small boat riding the waves toward shore.

Again Merideth thought to run. She could hide
in the caves. They were a twisting maze of tunnels. No one could
find her in there. She would hide and he would leave. She’d be
safe.

But though she wanted to escape him with all
her being, Merideth couldn’t... she just couldn’t make herself inch
toward the caves.

“There ye be, Cap’n.” The booming voice
startled Merideth. She clutched her hands together to stop them
from trembling. “We’d ‘bout given ye up fer sure.”

“I came close to giving up on myself,” Jared
admitted, reaching for the boat’s prow.

Three men leaped from the longboat, wrestling
it onto shore.

“What happened to ye? We was supposed to meet
a sennight ago. And where’s the other boat?”

“Gone. No doubt the new property of a
fisherman.” Finding it missing when he reached the desolate beach
had given him a moment of panic. “As for what happened to me, ‘tis
a long story, and one best told after we’ve distanced ourselves
from Land’s End. Marcus, douse the fire. We won’t be needing that
anymore.”

As one of the men moved off to follow Captain
Blackstone’s order, hope flickered in Merideth’s breast. Perhaps
her captor had forgotten her. He hadn’t even glanced her way since
dumping her on the beach. She tried to make herself as small as
possible. Now that the fire was out, the only light came from a
sliver of moon, newly risen in the sky. She was fairly certain none
of the other men had noticed her.

She could barely see Captain Blackstone and
his friends, though she could hear them. They were discussing the
light that now glowed from the ship in the channel. The beacon
appeared as the fire on shore went out.

“We best be hurryin’, Cap’n. Caught sight of
a ship a the line before sunset. Wouldn’t do for them to get a bead
on us.”

“You’ve got the right of it there, Mr.
Simpson. Let’s be shoving off, then.”

They were leaving. He
had
forgotten
her. Merideth shut her eyes and held her breath, a silent prayer
floating round in her head. But when she heard footfalls in the
sand, and felt his presence, Merideth realized it had been a
foolish hope.

“Come along, your Ladyship.” His words were
mocking.

“What ye got there, Cap’n?”

“The sum total of my accomplishments here. A
very lovely traitor.” His hand closed around Merideth’s arm.

“I am
not
a traitor.” The yank she
gave her arm had no more effect than her denial. He simply hauled
her to her feet.

“But she be a woman.”

This remark from one of his men made Jared
chuckle. “Aye, she is.” His head bent toward her till Merideth
could feel the whisper of his breath on her cheek. “But then some
of the best spies are.” His voice was silky smooth and meant only
for her ears.

“I don’t know anything. Please, don’t take me
away from here.” She was reduced to begging, but she didn’t
care.

Neither did he. Without another word he
pulled her toward the longboat. When they neared the shore, he
lifted her high against his chest and walked into the water,
depositing her on a hard wooden seat near the back of the boat.

Merideth clutched the seat as the men pushed
off from the shore, taking the longboat into the dark waters of the
channel. Taking Merideth into the unknown.

Little was said on the way to the ship. It
was too dark to see more than vague shadows of anyone, but Merideth
felt as if three sets of eyes studied her, and she had to force
herself not to tremble. When they reached the ship, the captain’s
large hands guided her to a rope ladder, and she could sense his
heat behind her as she climbed.

It was dark on deck—apparently the captain
was serious about not letting his presence known to the British
ships that patrolled the channel. He led the way below, where
tallow candles sputtering on iron holders protruding from the
bulwarks offered some light. Merideth swiped tangled hair from her
eyes and followed.

At the bottom of the ladder the captain threw
a hasty order over his shoulder before striding down the
companionway. “Take her to my cabin.”

She had no time to protest before a beefy
hand clamped around her arm. “This way, wench,” the man said,
hauling her toward the ship’s aft. He didn’t seem to care when she
tripped on her torn skirt; he simply yanked her along. If she ever
thought to solicit help from any of the crew on this ship, it
certainly wouldn’t be this tattooed giant.

Merideth feared what he might do when they
reached the cabin, but he only shoved her inside and slammed the
door... him on the outside. She heard the turn of a key and sank to
the deck, her skirts billowing out around her.

The cabin was dark and confining, with only a
feeble glow from the moon to cast eerie shadows on the furnishings.
Merideth reached for her locket, rubbing the smooth surface with
her thumb, trying to calm her panic. The wall seemed to press in
upon her, and she tried to think of something else to help her
fight the feeling.

Once her eyes adjusted to the lack of light,
Merideth could make out a cot, a desk covered with piles of
ledgers, and two trunks. Windows lined one wall of the cramped
room, but unless she planned to swim to shore—a feat she knew was
beyond her—they offered no escape.

Her head lolled back against the bulwark, and
tears burned her eyes. No one—not even she—knew where she was
bound. She had no one to turn to for help. Merideth sniffed and
impatiently scrubbed at the moisture on her cheeks. She would not
become a sniveling whine. She could overcome this problem. She
could!

But the cabin walls pressed closer. And then
she thought about what Captain Blackstone wanted from her. The name
of a traitor. A name she didn’t know.

And he would likely kill her if she didn’t
give him what he wanted... perhaps even if she did. After all, he
had killed her father.

Merideth clenched her fists and tried to come
up with a plan. But all she could think of was the gleam in Jared
Blackstone’s eyes as she and he lay entwined on the cliff.

“So you were to have your neck stretched,”
Padriac Delany said with a chuckle.

“I’m glad you find it so amusing.” Jared
backhanded rum from his mouth and grinned at his friend. He’d met
Padriac in France the year before, after the Irishman had escaped
from a British prison. Since then the lighthearted Delany had
served on the
Carolina
as first officer.

“Well, now, I think every man needs such a
brush with death,” Padriac offered. “It makes one appreciate life
all the more.”

“I appreciate life just fine. And your
brush
with death, unlike mine, was caused by something you
actually did.”

“Smuggling,” Padriac said with a snort.
“Hardly something to lose your life for.”

“The British Admiralty seems to think it
is.”

“They find privateering and spying equally
offensive.”

“True enough,” Jared admitted. “But I was to
be hanged for murder. A murder I didn’t commit,” he added after
noticing the widening of Padriac’s eyes.

Delany leaned back against the bulwark,
mirroring Jared’s pose. “Any idea who did do it?”

Jared’s pause was brief as he recalled the
blur of crimson before pain had exploded through his head. “Nay.”
She was a traitor, but Jared couldn’t bring himself to believe
Merideth Banistar had killed her father.