His words were a catalyst. She felt them stir her even in the midst of her panic. “You’ve won!” she cried. “You’ve won everything, your ship back and me in bed with you!”
“No, sweetheart, I promise you’ll win, too. Remember how you aroused me during the bath this morning? Now it’s my turn to do the same thing to you, but I will finish what I start, and you won’t be disappointed. Let me show you. Just let me love you.”
But there was no humor in his expression, no gloating because he’d won. In fact, she couldn’t read it at all, so she had no warning that he was about to kiss her again.
He’d been treating her carefully, not wanting her to wake too soon, but now that she was awake, he released all the passion that she’d stoked to life during the week. She thought she’d failed to arouse him. Apparently not.
That kiss got past the shock of what was happening, and coupled with his words, it stoked her own fires back to life with amazing swiftness. Such scorching heat, his mouth locked on hers, his tongue ravishing inside it, one hand behind her head holding her there, not letting her escape any part of that kiss. And now she didn’t want to escape.
Her arms went around his neck. He’d slipped his other hand between them to tightly squeeze her breast, knead it. And she could still feel him below, between her legs, thickly filling her, but unmoving, cautiously waiting. Yet the knowledge of what was there, what felt so good inside her, sent out a wave of pleasure, that uncontrollable flood of sensation deep in her belly that he so often stirred.
She pressed up against him, pulling him in deeper. That felt so nice she did it again, and again. And oh, God, it was suddenly too much sensation coalescing inside her all at once. The explosion of pleasure was beyond anything she could have imagined and it continued blissfully as he did some thrusting of his own, then, incredulously, built and exploded around her again just as he reached his own climax.
He was still after that. Gabrielle didn’t think she could have moved a single muscle herself. She was so drained, so replete, so wonderfully content. She’d wonder why later. But now the only thing she was capable of was sleep.
Chapter 33
GABRIELLE HAD NO IDEA HOW LONGDREW HAD LET HER SLEEP.It was still dark outside the single porthole the cabin contained, so the sky gave her no indication. And actually, he didn’t wake her at all, at least it didn’t appear so. He was sitting at the little table that could squeeze in four for a meal, but more comfortably sat two.
The chair he was using was turned toward the bed, so he’d probably been watching her at some point. Right now he was staring in the vicinity of his feet, which were crossed and stretched out before him. He looked deep in thought. His expression wasn’t guarded: he was frowning.
She’d barely moved, just turned her head enough to locate him in the room. She was quite sure he didn’t even know she was awake, which suited her just fine for the moment. She still had no idea how he’d gotten loose from his chain. Someone had to have helped him, but who, when his own crew were secured? It had to have been one of the new men that Ohr had signed on in London. Maybe one of them had known Drew or one of his crew and had just bided his time to help them escape. And if he was loose, then his men probably were, too, and that meant her men were…
God, she was afraid to even guess what the Americans had done to reclaim their ship. They wouldn’t have been warned as her crew had been, to make sure no one was hurt. They’d have no reason to go easy on “pirates.” Just the opposite, especially after spending a week incarcerated. Ohr? Richard? Were they even still alive?
Then a new thought snuck up on her that was just as disturbing, but in a different way. What had occurred in that bed. She could even still smell him there, the scent of him surrounding her, reminding her of her fall from grace. What an absolute fool she’d been to even think that could have been a dream. Well, she’d known it wasn’t a dream after his first few kisses and caresses, so she didn’t even have that as an excuse. Not that there could be any excuse, no matter the reason, to absolve her from the simple fact that she’dwantedit to happen.
She thrust those thoughts aside as well. She had to turn this situation back around to her favor. Her father’s release, maybe even his life, depended on it, not to mention she was going to end up in a dungeon herself if Drew had his way. And while he was distracted with his own thoughts, she had the perfect opportunity.
She didn’t even need to form a plan. She still had Drew’s pistol tucked away in one of her bags. She just had to get to it before he could stop her.
She shot out of bed and leapt toward her bags. She opened the right one and bent over to rummage through it.
He didn’t yank her away from it. He didn’t even move. “Looking for this?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, saw the pistol in his hand, pointing toward the ceiling. He must have searched the room for it while she was sleeping or, more likely, before he even came near her bed. He wouldn’t want to take any chances now that he was free.
Immensely disappointed that the only easy way to regain control was gone, she straightened and slowly turned around to face him. Only then did she realize that she was standing there naked. His eyes dropped immediately to her breasts and stayed there.
She didn’t panic or expire of shame, it was too bloody late for that. She did reach behind her, pulled a robe from the wardrobe, and slipped it on, denying him the view he seemed to be enjoying so much. He sighed to show his disappointment, but she didn’t buy it. It sounded too exaggerated.
Belting the robe, she spat just a single word at him. “How?”
She didn’t need to elaborate, he knew exactly what she was asking. Andnowhe was grinning. God, he was so pleased with himself, the blighter. It was enough to turn her stomach.
“An excellent question,” he replied. “I’d even tried it myself, but with no luck.”
“What?”
“I’m getting to that,” he said, and continued to take his sweet time about it. “You see, there’s a little something you didn’t know about my first mate. Timothy has a very real problem with confined spaces. We spent the night in jail once after he’d nearly demolished a tavern and he actually bent the bars, trying to get out. If you must know, I’m surprised he lasted this long.”
“You’re saying he actually got out of that iron shackle we put on his ankle?”
“No, he’s still wearing it as far as I know, it’s just no longer attached to anything that hinders his movements. He waited for your crew to get lax with the assumption that no other trouble would occur, before he yanked his chain off the wall and easily removed the wood that boarded up the hole he’d previously made in his wall.”
“What have you done with my crew?”
The grin remaining prominent on his lips, he said, “What do you think?”
