Fallon spun to face thecaptain. A shiver danced down her spine, for every time she encountered him,there was something unnerving that she couldn’t quite shake. Perhaps it was thatominous,dark mask that hid his features, orthatdirect,obsidian stare that reminded her so much of Atticus Clare.
Or maybe it was the fact they had shared one,passionate,earth-shatteringnightthatshe had never forgotten.She had relived that moment in his arms time and time againand even now her traitorous body warmed. It was dangerous to remain in his presence when she wanted to hold on to her anger, but every nerve ending was highly aware of that virile presence.“If you’ll excuse me,I think I’ll get some rest before we arrive.”
Without looking back, she returned to thecaptain’s quarters. She shut the door behind her and leaned against the solid force, hoping that it would anchor her back to reality, although her pulse was pacing in anticipation.
She closed her eyes in order to gain some fortitude andeventually the blood in her veins slowed.
She opened her eyes and walked over to the cot, but she hadn’t done more than sit down when the door burst open and the captain strode in with the confidence and ease that she had always associated with him.
“How dare you barge in here unannounced?” she snapped.
He shut the door behind him with a decided click and immediately, her heart slammed into her throat.His eyes glittered behind his disguise.“I will remind you that it’smycabin and I shall enter when I chooseto do so.”
She stiffened as he movedforward, but he didn’theadin her direction, but ratherwent behind hisdesk. He unrolled a map and laid it out on top and began to scrutinize it.She tried not to notice the muscular legs beneath his buff trousers as he stood there, or the way his white, billowing shirt hung partway open to reveal an equally impressive chest smattered with a sprinkle of dark hair that she recalled running her hands through quite vividly.
Fallonstared in thick silence as shewaited for him to tossthe mapaside, but when several moments passed, she huffed out an agitated breath. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t even look up, but replied dryly,“I should think it was obvious.”
She crossed her arms. “As many times as you’ve been to Ireland and you don’t yet know the route?You don’t sound like a very impressive captain.”
That got his attention. Hestood up straight andglared at her. “I wouldn’t test my hospitality, Miss O’Malley. I have agreed to your terms to take you to Ireland. There’s no need to be irritable when I saved you from a rather undesirable fate on board theFlying Swan.”
Fallon knew she should hold her tongue, but something compelled her to goad him further. She rolled her eyes. “And what might you do? Take me over your knee like a recalcitrant child?”
His mouth abruptly crooked and she had to resist the urge to take a step back as he came around the side of the desk.He stopped directly before her,withnary a breath separating them, but he didn’t touch her. “The idea does have merit,” he murmured.
She stood and waited for him to take her into his arms, or at the very least, leave with one last barb flung between them, but when the intimacy merely stretched between them, the sound in the roomthe deep, steady exhalesof their breathing, she started tobecomeannoyed.
“Either kiss me or—”
Her lungs seized as his mouth found hers amidst a brutal assault. With a groan, she threw her arms around him when her heart was screaming to push him away.Butthe torture was too sweet, his tongue searing as he delved past her lips andmated with hers. Shestarted to pant asthe fires of passion licked their way through her limbs until it settled into the pit of her stomach,as her lower regionsinstantly startedthrobbingwith an urgency thatshe couldn’t ignore.
When he left her mouth to tease the side of her neck and nip playfully at her collarbone, Fallon found herself pleading with him.Whatever control she’d been clinging to had snapped,as each touch and murmur he breathed into her ear sent shivers of moltendesire coursingthrough her body.For weeks she’d been tortured by the taste of pleasure that he’d given her. Now she wanted nothing morethanthe feel of his hands on her burning skin.
“Touch me,” she commanded, and he willingly obliged.
Whenhis bare handslid under her shirt to moldher naked breast, she squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache there.She hesitatedbrieflyas the image of Atticus Clare floated into her mind, but she shoved it aside. He wasin England with Josephine,while this man, who plundered the seas like the infamous, Calico Jack, was her one chance at happiness, however fleeting.
When his thumb flicked her nipple,she grabbed his shirt and began to lead him toward the cot.They tumbled on top in a tangle of arms and legs. Soon, his shirt, along with hers, had sailed through the air to the floor.
The Raven’s mouth left hers and trailed a scorching path down her chest and when he covered her quivering nipple with his tongue, she cried out. “God, you’re so beautiful. I want to kissyoueverywhere.”
A rush of wetness pooled at her coreat his husky promiseandwhen he slipped a hand beneath her trousers and slid a finger into her hot core, Fallon closed her eyes with a gasp.She saw stars beneath her lids as he startedthesame,familiar rhythmfrom that one magical night.The tide built until it crested and crashed, sending her pulsing around him.
When it was over, she opened her eyes to find him looking down at her. Overcome bythe pleasure, she reached up and touched one of the strands of his dark hair.“Won’t you tell me who you really are now?” she whispered.
She knew she’d said the wrong thing, for his eyes instantly turned flat and he pulled away from her.“Is that all this was? A way toseduce me intorevealingmyself to you?”
She blinked, surprised by the vehemence in his tonewhen moments ago he had brought her to such ecstasy. “No, I—” He moved togather uphis discardedshirton the floor. He kept his back to heras he donned it whileFallonpulledtheblanket over her. “Why are you so angry?Is it so wrong to know who my lover is?”
He didn’t answer until he was fully clothed, and then it wasjustbrieflyashe kept his stiff back toward her. “I told you long ago that this isn’t a game. If anyone were tofind outyou knew the Raven’s true identity, it could mean your death. And mine.”
“Butwhat about the crew?” she countered. “Aren’t you concerned that one of them might betray you?”
He whipped his head toward her.“They are loyalto me and to Ireland.”
She jerked as if he’d physically struck her, although the pain was the same. “And I’m not. Is that what you’re saying?Do youhonestlystill not trust me?” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Doesnothingthathashappenedbetween usproveanything?”
