His pretended ferocity was almost frightening. With a little cry she scrambled away from him, but he caught her ankles and slowly dragged her across the black satin sheets toward him. The slippery material against her nipples felt so sensuous, she realized she was becoming aroused again. In Adam Savage’s bed it happened in the space of a heartbeat. She knew he would satisfy her body’s cravings, but briefly she wondered what would happen when she was back to being a boy back to being Tony. She would have to keep her distance from him else he would have her in a continual state of arousal.
She pushed the thoughts from her mind, as a growling Adam pinned her between his thighs, then came down upon her with his full weight, teasing and tantalizing her sensitive skin with his crisp pelt. His beard scratched her face and she found it so thrillingly masculine, she went weak.
“Let me teach you to purr,” he murmured against her lips, then he took complete possession of her, mastering her tongue, blotting out everything but the feel and the taste of him.
Afterward he gathered her into his lap so they could feed each other bits of sausage and bread, and the luscious fruit of sunny Italy. Suddenly even eating became a sensual experience, as he licked and sucked her fingers when she fed him. Each knew the time was running out and they tried to prolong their fantasy. She touched and massaged every part of his powerful body, committing it to memory. She ached because she could not have him deep within her to satisfy him as a real woman would, but he was adamant and would not be disobeyed.
He was caressing her lovely round breasts while she rode his marble thigh, and he taught her how to pleasure herself if her need became great enough. Suddenly he pierced her with his ice-blue gaze and said, “Why don’t I order us a bath? You can wash the golden powder from your hair and scrub that butterfly mask from your beautiful face so I can see what you really look like.”
A look of panic crossed her face. “No! No bath. Sadly, I must be going.”
“Sweet, are you certain about the bath? You reek of my male scent,” he said huskily.
She shook her head. “It must be noon. I should have left at dawn. Help me to dress.”
He fastened her into the little gold bodice, but she could not find the gold drawers. Finally she gave up and stepped into the golden tulle skirt. Her steps dragged reluctantly as she walked to the door. She saw that the little golden key was missing and looked at him with liquid eyes that were ready to spill over.
“I cannot give you the key until you tell me your last name.”
“Lam … beth,” she whispered, knowing half a lie was better than none. She knew she would never be the same again. He loomed over her, dark and brooding. She put her hands against his black pelt and went up on tiptoe to kiss him good-bye. “Thank you, Adam, for the gift of knowledge. It is priceless.”
When their lips parted, he pressed the key into her hand.
Chapter 29
Back in her room at Casa Danieli she ordered a bath. It took her half an hour before she stepped into the water. She wanted to keep his masculine scent upon her body, his kisses on her half-bruised mouth. God only knew if she’d ever share in them again.
She washed the golden powder from her hair, marveling at how much it had grown since the night Roz had cut it. She brushed it back severely and clubbed it into a queue with a black leather thong. She dressed in her male clothing, refusing to allow herself to mourn her feminine attire.
Antonia packed her bag, carefully hiding her makeup at the bottom, and then at the last minute she folded the small golden bodice, shaped like a crown, to take with her. The golden tissue skirt was left hanging in the wardrobe, a discarded ghost of her fantasy to be relegated to the past and forgotten.
Before she closed the door upon the make-believe, she reflected upon her feelings. She hadn’t the slightest regret for what she had done. She had set out to seduce him, but it had been his mouth that had accomplished the seduction. She felt wonderful. More alive than she’d ever felt in her life.
On the way back to the ship she stopped to order a great quantity of Venetian talc to be sold in England, not only as hair powder, but face powder, for it was infinitely preferred over the dangerous white lead.
Tony was relieved that she boarded theFlying Dragonbefore Savage returned to the ship. She kept to her cabin until the talc was delivered. She was watching it being stowed in the hold when Savage came aboard. He didn’t even question her about what she had bought, but went quietly about his business with a closed look upon his face. He seemed as if his thoughts were engaged elsewhere, and yet he was aware of every inch of the clipper ship and every man jack aboard her. After he checked her from stem to stern he lost no time getting her under sail. Savage was England bound and seemingly couldn’t get away from Venice fast enough.
For the rest of that day and all of the next he stood alone at the wheel. His demeanor was unapproachable, daunting even, and for once Antonia was thankful for it. It was best to keep a very wide and very safe distance between them.
As Savage sailed the ship through the Adriatic, back down to the Mediterranean, he noted with sardonic amusement that quite a change had come over young Lord Lamb. There he was with a scarf tied about his head like the rest of the crew, scrambling up and down the rigging like a damned monkey. The sun was turning him brown, and he had a new carefree attitude that came with a healthy abundance of self-confidence. Something had obviously happened to him in Venice that had made him grow up. Savage often heard him whistling and singing, and even a stormy crossing of the Bay of Biscay did not destroy his newfound high spirits and laughing temperament.
Savage wished he felt the same. He did not. He searched for words to describe the mood he had fallen into. It was not exactly brooding, but it was decidedly reflective. He had gone to Venice to be dissipated and dissolute, to act the libertine. Instead he had found romance.
Romance was the last thing in the world he sought, and yet he wouldn’t have traded his Venetian romance for all the tea at Leopard’s Leap. Sailing up the coast of France he became downright introspective. He had laid his plans for the future so carefully for when he returned to England from the Indies. He had built Edenwood and chosen a chatelaine to grace the stately home, who would be the perfect political hostess. His future was settled. Meeting the golden goddess in Venice who was little more than half his damned age had suddenly made him dissatisfied with his life. He swore a filthy curse and purged her from his thoughts. It had been blissful while it lasted, but he was determined never to think of her again!
They made port in Le Havre for the night with the intention of taking on fresh water. Savage issued an order that no crew member must be ashore after dusk, and all seemed inclined to obey. Savage turned a blind eye when McSwine and the Scotsman invited a couple of whores who worked the French docks aboard.
Tony did not stay belowdecks, but she kept to herself as she strolled the deck, listening to the music and laughter of the crew and that of other ships docked close by. Only the Channel separated her from England. Had the scandal of the duel blown over in the month she’d been away, or did she have it all to face down once she arrived back in London? And Bernard Lamb—would he be waiting for her, waiting to avenge himself, waiting to eliminate her at his first opportunity?
Tony was lost in deepest thought when suddenly a shadowy figure glided silently past her, close enough for her to reach out and touch. She remained motionless, not even breathing, then all of a sudden it came to her that it was Adam Savage leaving the ship. His scent came to her first. Never, ever could she mistake it for another. The second thing that told her it was him was his size and the fact that he moved with the stealth and grace of a leopard. He was garbed in dark, rough garments, almost rags. She let him go without a word. She refused to allow her infatuation for him to blind her to the fact that he was dangerous, sinister, and likely up to his damned icy blue eyes in some illicit smuggling operation. She did not know what it could be. She did not want to know.
Suddenly she lost her desire to be up on deck. She knew she would feel much more secure in her own small cabin. She washed her hands and face, then reclined in her hammock, swinging back and forth, thinking of all the ports they had visited this past month. The hammock soon lulled her to sleep, where she had a pleasant dream about her brother Anthony.
About three o’clock in the morning someone was shaking her awake. She felt a hand upon her shoulder and almost jumped out of her skin.
“Tony, don’t be alarmed. It’s only me,” Savage murmured.
It was pitch-black in the cabin. She swung her legs to the floor to keep the hammock from swaying. “What the devil do you want?” she demanded.