Her heart lurched wildly. He hadn’t left yet. She thought of the way he had kissed her yesterday in the queen’s apartments. He had introduced her to desire and it stormed her now, fierce and unyielding. With it came shame.
Oh how well she recalled her own irredeemable behavior. Not only had she encouraged his kiss, and kissed him back as wildly, and she had touched the naked skin of his chest and stomach with appalling boldness. In fact, she dared not imagine what would have happened had Liam not regained his senses and recalled that they were in the queen’s chamber! She bit her lip, wishing somewhat desperately that he would go away—but hardly meaning it.
Liam stared at her, grave and unsmiling. He did not look even once at Helen, who scurried away. “I have come to say fare-thee-well.”
Katherine turned her back on him, her thoughts muddled, already breathless. She reminded herself that he was a pirate, a pardoned pirate but a pirate nonetheless, and that she had no business enjoying his kisses or desiringhim at all. None. Not unless she became his wife—which was out of the question. “I thought you already gone,” she managed to sound callous.
“Can you not show that you care, even if only a little?” Liam asked sharply.
Katherine did not turn to face him, and she refused to answer—telling herself that she did not care. A silence filled the room. Katherine strained to hear what he was doing, if he moved, recalling his marriage proposal on the ship. She was mad, surely, even to think of it. Or to have this strange aching inside her breast.
Suddenly his hands settled on her shoulders. “When will you give in to me?” He had come up behind her and she had not even heard him.
Katherine jerked away. “Don’t touch me!”
His eyes glittered. “You are not afraid of me, Katherine. You are afraid of what I do to you—you are afraid of the passion in your own breast—you are afraid of the woman inside yourself.”
She refused to consider his words. “No. I am afraid of you—nothing more.”
He laughed then, amused. “What a liar you have become. You were not afraid of me yesterday in the queen’s bedchamber.”
She turned red. “I lost my mind, obviously.”
“Obviously.” His eyes gleamed. He reached for her again, pulling her to him. Ignoring the stiffening of her body. “But I like your madness, Katherine. Do you not wish to send me off to sea with a proper good-bye?”
Katherine’s pulse raced. He was leaving, and this time it was reality. She was dismayed. It was ridiculous for her to be distressed, but there it was, impossible to deny. What if he died? He lived by the sword. His business was plunder and piracy, murder and mayhem. Oh, God. That she was even thinking of his safety was appalling, and made even worse by the fact that some brazen little witch inside her had given her the idea that another, parting kiss would not really hurt—because he was leaving—and she might never see him again.
And did she not owe him some gratitude for all that he had done so far for her?
“What thoughts speed about in that clever brain of yours?” Liam asked.
Katherine tried to tell herself that she would not kiss him. It was wrong, and that was that. Yet her body began to shake. “Wh-where do you go?”
“I go off to plunder Spaniards,” he said with a slight smile and a spark in his eye. “The queen has given me letters of marque.”
Katherine gasped. Suddenly it all made sense. He was not a pirate but a privateer—with letters of marque from the Crown. “I should have guessed! You could have told me! Knave!”
“And would that have made a difference? I had no letters authorizing me to seize the French trader you sailed upon.” His gray gaze snared hers.
She remembered the smell of gunpowder and smoke, the broken and charred deck, the wounded men, and she shivered. “No.”
He touched her chin with one strong forefinger. “You seem sad, Katherine. Sad that it does not make a difference. I will never be a fancy courtier, nor will I ever be a nobleman.”
“I am well aware of that,” she said. And that was why she would not marry him. That was why she could not ever marry him.
“You are so green,” he said roughly. “Katherine—beware of all that goes on here. Beware of the intrigue, petty and otherwise. Do not trust anyone. Beware of men like Leicester—and mostly, beware of him.”
Katherine stared into Liam’s dark, flashing eyes. “I can take care of myself.”
He laughed then. “Yes, you can, and ’tis most extraordinary.” He sobered. “Leicester will try to have your skirts up before the week is out.”
She started.
“I will kill him if he takes what is mine,” Liam told her.
Katherine gasped and tried to pull away from him buthis grip tightened on both of her shoulders, his eyes smoldering. He shook her once. “You can deny it all you want, butyou are mine. Call it passion, call it obsession, call it whatever pleases you, but you run hot and wild in my blood, Katherine—I cannot give you up.”
She shook her head, her fingers fisted in his shirt, unable to speak, her heart hammering hard enough to leave her breathless.
