With a frustrated groan, Jack turned and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him. He swung up the short stairway and headed for the foredeck, his only aim to cool his heated brain before he returned to his cabin and made passionate love to his wife. He was so wracked with violent emotions he didn’t trust himself to lay hands on her delicate limbs. She bruised easily enough as it was.
Kit stared at the cabin door. Her face drained of emotion, then she stiffened. Her eyes flared, purple flames erupting from the violet depths.
How dare he? One moment, vowing love and demanding obedience, the next, walking out on her, as if he’d said the final word.
“Hah!’ Kit drew a deep breath and drew herself up, her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed. If he thought he was going to so easily escape the rest of their discussion, the clear statement of what she wanted henceforth from him, he was wrong! She’d wanted his attention-she’d got it. But he hadn’t left it with her long enough!
With a determined stride, Kit made for the door.
His arms on the foredeck railing, Jack watched the waves slide under the bow. They’d slipped their moorings and were heading for the mouth of the harbor. Soon, the heavy swell of the ocean would tilt the decks. He drew a deep breath and felt sanity return.
Looking back, he couldn’t recall a single instance throughout their association when Kit had allowed his plans to proceed without remodeling. He’d had their recent discussion carefully organized. He’d intended explaining to her what he felt when she went into danger, that she’d have to learn to cope with the ramifications of his love. He’d managed that but her patent surprise that he should feel so strongly for her had slipped under his guard and distracted him. His statements of intent had been far more aggressive than he’d planned.
He grimaced. That wasn’t the worst of it. He’d forgotten the rest of his orchestrated performance, arguably the most important part. He’d omitted to tell her that he understood her need to know what he was about and that, henceforth, he was prepared to share even that aspect of his life with her.
Jack was drawing a last deep breath of calming sea air when he sensed a disruption behind him. He swung about to see Kit making for the foredeck, oblivious of the sailors she swept from her path. One glance at the set of her chin told him she was about to upset the plans he’d just made.
For one instant, Jack paused to admire the magnificent figure she cut, her lithe body outlined by her elegant carriage dress, her halo of curls gleaming in the sunshine. But he couldn’t afford more time to stand transfixed by admiration. His Kit was no angel. In another minute, when she reached the foredeck, she was going to irretrievably damage his reputation-if not worse.
Kit had to concentrate to manage the ladder to the foredeck with her skirts held before her. She’d seen Jack’s tall figure at the rail and made straight for him. The foredeck looked a perfectly wonderful spot to tell him what she thought of his henceforths, limited, as they were, to her.
Gaining the foredeck, she dropped her skirts and smoothed them down, then glanced up to find her husband. To her surprise, he was directly in front of her.
Angry violet eyes locked with laughing grey ones.
Laughing? Kit opened her mouth to wither him.
She’d forgotten how fast he could move. Before the first syllable of her tirade tripped from her tongue, his lips had closed over hers, stifling her angry words. Kit struggled and felt his arms lock about her, a tender trap. Her heart was already accelerating, leaping with anticipation. It was too late to close her mouth. He’d taken immediate advantage of her parted lips to lay claim to the softness within.
Damn him! She wanted to talk! This was precisely why she’d left Castle Hendon in the first place.
Disgruntled, Kit tried to hold firm against the tide of need rising within her. It was impossible. Little flames of desire greedily flickered and grew, swelling into the familiar warmth in her belly. With a stifled groan, Kit rearranged her plans and surrendered to the urge to press herself against the hard body that surrounded her, savoring the pressure that would bring her relief.
When Kit melted into his embrace, Jack knew he’d won the round. Despite the catcalls and whistles that rose about them, he kept kissing her, too hungry after the starvation of a week to call an early end to their exhibition. The need to repair to a place of greater privacy to embark on the next stage of their discussion finally brought his head up. He stared down into her wide eyes, already purpling with passion.
Jack smiled, his slow, wicked smile. Kit’s heart lurched crazily.
“I’m going to carry you down to our cabin. Don’t, for the love of God, say a word.”
One arrogant brow rose, but Kit could only stare. Talk? That required being able to think. She was witless-how could she say anything?
Then, as Jack stooped and tossed her over his shoulder, reality returned to her with a thump. Heavens-everyone on the ship was staring at them! Kit felt her cheeks burn crimson as Jack went down the ladder. She could just imagine the grin on his face.
Her fears were confirmed when he shrugged her from his shoulder into his arms. He strode the length of the deck smiling down into her anguished eyes. Cradled in his strong arms, Kit knew it was useless to struggle but she’d have given a great deal, at that moment, to wipe the triumph from his lips. Still, it was only a battle-she had set her sights on winning the war. He juggled her back to his shoulder to manage the narrow companionway and corridor, then strode through the door to their stateroom and kicked it shut on the world.
Her hands on his shoulders, Kit waited to be put down. Now was the time to make her stand, before he kissed her again. But Jack didn’t stop in the stateroom. Kit blinked as she was carried into the bedroom beyond, ducking her head at his command to avoid the lintel.
She looked around wildly. Her stomach contracted as her gaze fell on the bed. Jack stopped at its foot, his intent clear. Any doubts she might have had on the point were banished as he let her slide down until her toes brushed the carpeted floor. Clasped against him, Kit could feel the evidence of his need pressed hard against her soft belly. Her eyes met his; her breath suspended as she saw desire etched in silver flame against the smoky grey.
With an effort, Kit pulled her mind free. She drew a deep breath. “Jack?”
“Mmm?”
He wasn’t interested in talking. His large hands spread across her waist, moving down to mold her hips against his. One hand remained at the top of her thighs, trapping her in that intimate embrace, gently fondling her bottom. The other hand went to the laces of her gown. His lips grazed her ear, then lazily drifted to where the pulse beat strongly at the base of her throat.
Kit clenched her fingers on his shoulders, trying to hold on to her mind, but the heat trapped between their hips rose and cindered her resolution. She felt Jack tug at her neckline and the material ripped. As his lips moved down to taste the fruit revealed, Kit decided against protest.
He had stated that he loved her. Now he would show her, his loving a vibrant reiteration of what he’d found so hard to say. She’d be a fool indeed to interrupt him. Instead, she would enjoy him, enjoy his love and claim it as hers-then return to her point later, once their love had tamed him.
With a satisfied murmur, she dropped her arms to free them of her sleeves, then whimpered as Jack’s tongue teased her sensitive nipples, aroused and covered only by the thin film of her chemise. She heard his knowing chuckle, then he moved closer to the bed, letting her down so she stood on unsteady feet, trapped between him and the end of the bed.