She came to her feet. She meant to speak, to say something. No words came to her.
She thought about the sun, high overhead. She thought about the breeze, and the gurgling waters of the brook. She could not shed her clothing here. She could not lie here, in the sand, in the soft grass.
He came closer to her. She could not speak, nor did he bother her with words. He slipped her riding coat from her shoulders, letting it fall to the grass. Then he spun her about, adroitly slipping each of the tiny hooks that lined her back. His fingers slid beneath fabric to touch her bare shoulders, and her gown fell low over her breasts and down to her waist. He lowered his head, and his lips and beard, wet and cool, touched her flesh. His tongue rimmed her shoulder and she started to shiver.
“I…I cannot!” she stuttered.
He spun her around. “You can,” he assured her, and found her lips. His fingers fell upon the ties to her corset as his lips ravished and seduced. Her breasts were suddenly bare, and the sun warmed them. She was sinking down into a pile of her own clothing, and his weight and warmth were covering her.
He did not take her then. He touched and teased her and watched her as he slipped away her shoes and hose. She felt the fresh air touch her and she shivered and he drew her to him. They rolled upon the soft grasses, and he smiled as he caught her above him. “This is my domain, Lady Kinsdale, and none may enter here to come between us.”
She smiled slowly to herself, enchanted by the beauty of the lagoon and by his whisper. There was some sweet madness there, and the excitement of it filled her. She could not be here, not so, not with him. She could not play in such a primitive Eden, laugh to the music of the bubbling water, dare to feel the breeze upon her flesh.
Her hair tumbled down upon him, covering his shoulders. His laughter faded and his eyes grew dark, and then he drew her head down to his, and his kiss entered and filled her, touching upon the newly lit flames of passion that stirred in her heart and body. His touch raked over her. He lifted her atop himself and she cried out in startled surprise as they came together instantly as one.
Sun touched her, whispers touched her, the trees and leaves shuddered over her. She felt the earth beneath her and the ragged breath of the man and her own reckless and abandoned cries as a sweet rush of satiation burst upon her. She felt the sand at her back and the tickle of the grass and the hard brush of male hair against her belly and thighs.
She felt his arms.
“Perhaps I will not let you go,” he warned her. “Perhaps I shall do with you always what I will.”
“You cannot,” she told him firmly.
“’Tis my domain,” he reminded her. He lifted her high into his arms and she cried out in protest. “Wait! Where are you going! You cannot think to walk about like this!”
“I am not going far,” he said, striding out into the water.
“Put me down.”
“I will do as I choose with you, remember?”
She tossed her head back. “You will not do as you will with me, Captain Hawk. I will not allow it!”
“Oh?” He smiled with a sensual curl taking hold of the corner of his lip. His pirate’s silver gaze sizzled. He dropped her flat, and she pitched into the cool fresh water.
She burst up, sputtering and protesting, and laughing. She tried to drag him under but she hadn’t the strength. He caught her and brought them both beneath the cascade of the cliff, and then, as the cool water raged over them, he kissed her. A fervent flame beat against the cold. She felt his hands upon her breasts, between her legs, and she clung to him, stretching her fingers with sure fascination over his shoulders and back and hesitantly down to his buttocks.
It was madness.…
She cast her head back and his kiss consumed her throat until his mouth moved to close over her breast. He swept her beneath him and they came near shore, and as the cool water rushed over them, he made love to her there.
She felt the earth more keenly, never knew a touch so acutely, never imagined that a woman could know a man so completely. When she lay at rest, she had never known such a peace. He held her still, and the sun beat down upon the two of them and the water rushed over their limbs.
The sun created dazzling currents in the lagoon, and Skye narrowed her eyes against them. She spun a daydream as he held her, idly stroking her arm. Her father would come to this place. The Hawk would cast aside his buccaneer’s ways and a pardon would be found. This madness could go on and on, forever. She could feel his strength and delight in his husky laughter and the fierce demand of his passion and desires.…
“What are you thinking?” he asked her.
“That you are a pirate,” she said softly.
He stiffened. “A rogue—in a rogue’s domain, milady.”
“The seas will be cleared one day!” she said fervently.
He shifted, rising above her upon the sand. “That, milady, will take time. When your pious Lord Cameron comes for you, you must not travel the seas again. Do you understand me?”
Her eyes widened. “If I must do so—”
“There is no reason for you to do so.”
