“Proud of yourself?” she asked, on a laugh, but zigs and zips of pure pleasure were still racing through her body.
“Yes,” he answered, his grin unrepentant.
She grinned back at him. “You should be. If I had known you were capable of doingthat,I would have demanded my marital rights long, long ago.”
He heaved himself up to kiss her lips. The kiss was long and deep and Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck. Rafe wasn’t satisfied. She knew that. He’d ensured that she was satisfied before he saw to his own pleasure. The thought stoked something deep within her—protectiveness, caring, love?
She shook her head. She didn’t have long to contemplate the thought because Rafe was making her wet with lust again by stroking between her legs once more. She parted for him. She wanted to feel him… inside of her. She had never wanted anything more in her life.
“Daphne, I—”
“I know it’s uncomfortable, the first time,” she admitted with a shaky smile. “Cass told me.”
“No. It’s not that.”
“I told you, I won’t tell Julian.”
Rafe smiled at her and traced her ear with the tip of his finger. He kissed her nose. “It’s not that, either. If we do this, I’ll have to be man enough to face your brother. I can do that. But I want to make certain it’s… what you really want.”
Daphne stared up at him. She hoped he couldn’t see all the emotions she felt for him in her eyes. At the moment she didn’t care. She didn’t care about Julian, or the blond, or even their future. All she cared about was being in Rafe’s arms. Giving herself to the man she had always wanted. “I do want it Rafe. Truly,” she promised him.
“Are you certain?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and nodded.
He kissed her cheek gently. “I’ll do my best to keep from hurting you.”
“I know you will.” She lifted up and brushed a kiss to his forehead.
Rafe sat up and quickly divested himself of his breeches. Once they were gone, he moved back and settled atop her. He kissed her deeply, his mouth shaping hers. With his knee, he pushed her legs wider. Daphne held her breath. Then his hard hotness was between her legs, nudging at her wet warmth, seeking its place.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Daphne’s eyes went wide. The knock on the door shocked her. “No!” she whispered fiercely against his strong neck.
Rafe groaned and rolled to his side.
“What is it?” he growled. “And by God, if it’s anything other than this ship being on fire, I’m going to—”
“Captain,” came Salty’s voice. “The men from the tavern. They’re here. They rowed out and have asked to speak with you immediately.”
Rafe’s second groan was painful. He vaulted from the bed in a lightning flash. “Daphne, I’m sorry but there’s no time for you to dress. You must hide in the closet.” He pulled his shirt over her head to hide her nakedness. “I’d meet them on the deck but if they say anything you can interpret—”
“I understand.” She nodded jerkily.
“Show them in,” Rafe commanded Salty. Rafe grabbed his breeches and yanked them up over his hips. Then he ripped the hammock from the beams and shoved it into the cabinet.
Daphne moved from the bed on legs that felt like water. Somehow she managed to gather her clothing from the corner and rush into the closet with the wad of fabric in her arms. Just before she pulled the door shut behind her, she saw Rafe jump into the mussed bed. Apparently he would pretend he’d been sleeping.
She held her breath. She knew what she must do. Not draw attention to herself. If the Russians opened the door and discovered her hiding and holding boy’s clothing, the entire ruse would be up and she and Rafe might be killed on the spot. Not to mention she must listen to hear if they said anything to each other in Russian. But standing there in the closet, shivering and fearful, was hardly conducive to spying. She held her breath so tightly she thought her ribs might crack.
She heard the door to the cabin open and the footsteps of the two men entering the room. “Good evening, Captain.” It was Anton’s voice. “We do hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Not at all, gentlemen,” Rafe replied, waving the two men into the room. “I’d retired for the evening but I can always make time for two of my best customers.” He pushed himself up against the wall. He glanced around furtively but kept his eyes hooded so the men couldn’t see. Daphne had managed to gather all of her clothing, thank God.
Anton plopped himself into the chair. Rafe leaned back, still trying to calm his breathing. Viktor sauntered over and leaned against the door to the closet, which didn’t help Rafe’s breathing one bit. He could only hope Daphne was completely silent in there.
