“Oh, Brand. I’m so sorry.” When she touched a hand to his knee again, he nearly vaulted off the quilt.
His breathing hastened, but he couldn’t look at her; he was lost in his mind. “I refused to let my ship be taken without a fight. Even though the odds weren’t in my favor, I fought with everything I had in me. Man after man came after me. I dispatched them as best I could. Eventually I was left with my dagger, and the captain of the boarding party met me on the deck near the middle mast.”
The fatigue in his muscles felt as real as it had back then. He flexed the fingers of his right hand like he still held the dagger slippery with blood. “My mates and I put up a good fight, but there were more French, and they weren’t as exhausted as we were. My opponent was as fierce as any, and he was a bigger man. He slashed at me, kept me moving, pinned me against the railing. Eventually I dropped my weapon, and he went in for the kill. Thanks to my friend John Butler, who shoved me enough that the blow wasn’t fatal, I received only a glancing slice. Unfortunately, it cut open my face and sliced so deeply into the eyeball that there was no saving it.” The remembered pain of that moment filtered through him once more—the white-hot agony of the blade in his eye, the copious amounts of blood streaming down his face.
“Oh, Brand, I’m so sorry.” She squeezed her fingers on his knee, bringing him back to the present.
“As am I. John saved me by pitching me into the sea. He followed.” A shudder racked his body. “The sting of the salt water. Dear God, how that hurt. Eventually, we were picked up by English reinforcements, and the rest isn’t relevant to this conversation.” Emotions threatened to drown him in addition to the pain—grief, fear, horror, desolation, anger. In no way did he wish to unleash them or pull them out; it would be the end of him, so he tried to wrestle them back into the boxes in the back of his mind.
Yet it was becoming more difficult as time went on to ignore all that he’d been through.
Elizabeth moved dishes as she scooted close to him, put an arm about his shoulders. “Don’t fight your instincts, Captain. You need to feel everything from your past, so you’ll stop carrying it around, or at least lessen the load. Else it will fester.”
Her hands on him, the dulcet sound of her voice, the delicate apple blossom scent of her grounded him into the moment. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” She was so close her breath warmed the side of his neck. “You’re tense and restless, looking for an outlet and an escape so you won’t have to remember or feel.” With gentle strokes, she encouraged the hair off his forehead. Everywhere she touched drove him mad with desire and need. “It won’t make you weak to show your struggle.”
For one tiny second, he almost let go, but then other memories from the past trod in to remind him why that was a bad idea. Brand snorted. “Not according to my father. He maintained that an Englishman should keep a stiff upper lip and face every challenge with a will of iron.”
“Pardon me, Captain, but he was wrong.” A hint of anger threaded through her voice, and it took him by surprise. Yes, there was fire burning in her soul and made her stronger than he’d ever be. “What of love, of joy, or grief? Every person has emotions. We run the gambit at any given time. It’s what makes us human, broken, what helps us to salvation.”
“Bah.” He didn’t wish to hear a sermon. “There is no such thing as love.” Why did he insist on telling her that? He should be working to seduce her, not bear all his secrets. “I thought I had that once, but it dissolved as quickly as sugar in water. Never again.”
“So jaded for a man so well-traveled,” she whispered.
He couldn’t bring himself to peer into her eyes for fear that he’d see pity. “With good reason.”
“Tell me so I’ll understand.” Her fingers stilled at the side of his face.
“Not right now.” He slid an arm about her waist. A gasp issued from her at his touch.
“Why not?” The inquiry was breathless.
“Because I intend to kiss you senseless.” Brand cupped her cheek and claimed her lips, and this time the kiss wasn’t chaste. She’d been right about the restless feelings. They stemmed directly from her, and his inability to land her in bed. All that would change, and soon.
The shiver that moved through her body transferred to him. It served to spur him onward. He drank from her lips, exploring, seeking, asking, and finally taking what he wanted from her. Elizabeth surrendered with a soft sigh. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders, and as she tried to mimic his advances, he chuckled. Oh, the woman was a complete novice, but he would teach her everything she’d need to know.
And still he played her mouth, sought to seek out her secrets, experience the taste of her. When he licked at the seam of her lips, she opened on another gasp of surprise. He touched his tongue to hers, watching her as she became acclimated to the new rhythm. Then her eyes fluttered closed and she lifted her chin which gave him a better angle to fence and chase.
The hint of lemonade on her tongue fed his need, as did the soft press of her body against his. Daring much, he skimmed a hand up her side, past her ribcage to cup her breast. When she shivered, he grinned and continued to ply her with questing kisses as he weighed the warm globe in his palm. Not too large or small, it was perfection in its size. His member throbbed with readiness, but she wasn’t there yet. He tamped on the urge to throw her down and take her without finesse. She didn’t deserve that.
Instead, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her nipple until it hardened under the fabric of her dress. A curious mix of a gasp and a moan issued from her. Elizabeth wrenched away, breaking the kiss and their intimate connection.
Her eyes were wide and dark, full of confusion, fear, and longing; her lips were a deep rose and swollen from his attention. “You must stop, else I’ll drown in what you’re doing.”
“That is quite the point.” But he chuckled and set her away. The hard points of her nipples were outlined beneath her clothing. She was nearly there. Bedding her was the next step, and he couldn’t wait to lay her out naked. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes. Please.” The words fired his imagination and hardened his shaft to the point of pain, for he’d hear those same words from her in a vastly different capacity and soon. “Where?”
“I’ll send notice. Unless it rains. I can’t very well invite you to my rooms in the hotel, now can I?” Though if he were desperate enough…
“I suppose not, and William wouldn’t be best pleased to have you turn up at the house.” She smiled and put additional space between them. “Let’s finish our lunch. I’m suddenly more ravenous than before.”
You and I both, Lizzy.Dear God but he couldn’t wait to thoroughly ruin her. And then what? He swallowed the guilt with another swig of beer. Her future wasn’t his concern.