Blackwells: My Timeswept Heart Part 12

"Aye, d.a.m.n me, but I cannot," he murmured huskily. "I cannot?' He nibbled, pressing her tightly, her firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s mashing deliciously against the hard wall of his chest. She tilted her head back, and his lips moved to the soft swell above her breast, his tongue liquid over the pale softness. He heard the breath sigh out of her as her fingers slid into the hair at his nape, and Dane thought he'd die with the wondrous pleasure of her touch.

Tess gently rubbed the knotted muscles in his neck, wondering how her anger could dissolve so quickly as she allowed herself to be swept up into the storm of emotions raging within her. Surely Duncan was right, she questioned herself, and the captain had been forced to do what he did. That she could have been killed was accurate, but what of the harshness of the punishment? Was it all fake? No, the sting in her shoulder denied that. Yet npw, with him touching her like this, she couldn't imagine him a cruel man. How could he run so hot and cold, worrying over her sc.r.a.ped elbows one second, ordering a whipping in the next? Could she forgive that possessed Captain Bligh side of him and draw the tender man back to reality-the man who'd saved her life twice? And why couldn't she count one mistake, not one slip up in the script of this voyage? Nothing was right about this place, this man, and what he did to her, and yet somehow, Tess felt Dane Blackwell had won more

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than just this battle.

He straightened, willing her to look him in the eye. Sooty dark lashes swept up, and Dane saw the turmoil written there. A callused finger brushed across her cheek, tucking a stray wisp behind her ear. "Do not worry yourself, little one." He saw moisture bloom in dove gray eyes.

Her hand moved into the soft raven curls at the back of his head, urging him closer. "Kiss me again, Blackwell." Her voice shook, the soft plea sounding desperate.

Unable to deny his own need of her, his warm lips brushed hers, a whispery breath across velvet petals, and Tess leaned into him, allowing his sensuality to drape over her misery. Forgive him, a voice urged. A lump formed in her throat as he worshiped her lips, and she lost herself in a hunger she never knew she possessed.

Neither heard the door open.

Gaelan Thorpe stood in the doorway, watching the pa.s.sionate embrace, envious of his captain and the beauty he held in his arms. He smiled to himself. The man had been furious enough to chew nails but minutes before. This must be a new way to express one's pique, he thought cheekily, then cleared his throat when the second mate came up behind him.

Tess's head jerked back, her gaze darting over Dane's shoulder to the men converging in the doorway.

"Do not be ashamed, fair sweet," he whispered, instantly feeling her desire to hide.

"I'm not," she lied softly, trying to move away. "Please, let me go, Captain." He did, and she felt

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small, embarra.s.sed, an unaccustomed blush, and couldn't comprehend any of it. It was only a kiss, well, more than a simple kiss, but -good gravy, what's the matter with me, she agonized.

"Come inside, gentlemen," Dane ordered, frowning at her strained expression. Only his eyes shifted. "And since you have chosen to be rude enough not to make yourself known, Mr. Thorpe, I will deny you proper introductions - for the time."

Tess's head snapped up at the icy tone, and she saw the first mate flush, then look at his boots.

Dane knew she was going to run. He reached for her, but she was already out the door, pink skirts fluttering around the door jamb.

"I apologize, sir."

Dane's gaze honed in on Thorpe, "You will, to the lady. But later." With a dismissing glance at the door, he unrolled a chart onto the long table, spreading his palms over the corners. His cool green eyes measured each of his officers. "Now, gentlemen, in a few hours she should be close enough to show us her colors."

"Aye, sir," they said in unison, eager for the conflict.

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CHAPTER NINE.

Deep in her own confusion, Tess didn't notice the activity surrounding her as she grasped the railing and filled her lungs again and again with crisp, salty air. Why did she run? Was she going crazy? G.o.d, she felt like she was being sucked into a whirlpool, caught in their game. And having a tough time separating their reality from hers. She fought back the rush of tears, her mind spinning with thoughts and reasons. Adapt, overcome, she commanded herself, shoving her emotions aside and attempting to discover a logical excuse for what was happening to her. No, not to her, but these men.

A "Fantasy Island" was how she'd explained it away before, but even in a good play someone makes a slip, blows a line. And of course her arrival hadn't been expected. Yet that curve thrown hadn't fazed them much. But she still couldn't dismiss the fact that they'd beaten a man. What else could she do about it that she hadn't already? Not a d.a.m.n thing. Each man knew the consequences and accepted them. She'd already absolved the whole mess knowing Captain 102.

Blackwell patched up the young man himself. Going soft, Renfrew.

Regardless, there were other confusing factors; Tess couldn't find even the slightest discrepancy in the authenticity of the ship, its furniture, the clothing. She looked down at her gown, examining the seams, and was surprised to find the st.i.tching small, erratically even, yet not very tight as a sewing machine would have made. Aw, jeez, hand sewn!

Her hand shook as she covered her mouth. It was as if she was misplaced in a different time, and until they let her go, took her to sh.o.r.e, she was a prisoner in this bizarre production. If what Duncan had told her was to be believed, they were all here for a reason, some mysterious quest, and ready to pay any price to play it out. With their captain. Dane Alexander Blackwell. Fire and ice. Half animal, half gentleman.

The man was gorgeous, s.e.xy, too d.a.m.n masculine for his own good and, and-and when he touches me I melt into a puddle, she confessed silently. Even when he's angry, he excites the heck out of me. No man had made her feel so much in such a short time. The power and sensuality he exuded set off danger signals in her head, but a moment in those strong arms, with him kissing her-G.o.d, it was worth the risk! She felt like a real woman when he was near, feminine, delicate, seductive. Just thinking about him made her uncertainly warm. Whoa, Tess, she scolded herself. Keep your head together. You can't get involved. It can't go any further than a kiss, and that was already more than she'd done with any man after so short an acquaintance. This will be over soon, and- she braced her elbows on the wood, dropping 103.

her chin into her palms with a sigh, deciding she'd never had a more interesting time in her life. Chaos or not.

She'd calmed down considerably when a shout brought her around. Men climbed high into the rigging, checked sails, pulled ropes, lines, secured hooks, and cleared the deck for an un.o.bstructed path. Moving faster, more efficiently than before, she thought, walking toward the bow to see if the dolphin was still near. She couldn't help but notice how the crew sent her cautious glances, hoping not to be caught staring. Several made a big show of moving far out of her way until she pa.s.sed, as if she had some contagious disease, and if she happened to meet with a crew member's gaze, a sudden fear made him look quickly away, his attention instantly engrossed in his duties. If they wanted to keep their emotions secret, they were lousy at it. Feeling like an intruder in the biggest way made Tess turn back toward the pa.s.sageway.

"I say we do away with her ourselves," a deck hand muttered to his comrades after casting a suspicious glance at the woman's retreating form.

"Yer a d.a.m.ned fool, Sikes, if you think the capt'n would allow us to see morn."

"Aye," several agreed with quick nods.

"I'll not be party to murder," another added, shaking his head as he twined a keel of rope.

"She ain't a witch, and yer all daft."

Heads jerked up to see the boatswain moving into the small circle.

"How ken you be sayin* that, Mr. Potts?" Sikes demanded. " 'Twas you that-"

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"I know that! But the lady took a lash for me. Tis not something I ken forget. She stood up to the capt'n, din she? Anyone a' you ever dare do that?"

"Tis proof then!"

"Nay," a burly man said, bending to the small group. "But we'll be needin' proof she's a true witch."

"Or proof she ain't," Potts said, his ire p.r.i.c.ked.

"You'd risk yer job fer her?" someone asked.

Evan Potts stared at his bare toe for a moment. He didn't know what she was, but she couldn't be evil. Not and care about a n.o.body like him, enough to court the capt'n's wrath on his behalf. Potts lifted his gaze to his mates.

"Aye. I would."

Standing outside the cabin, Tess could hear the murmurs of conversation. What could they be discussing? She hated to interrupt, but since she wasn't allowed to go anywhere else on the ship, she knocked. The door opened.

A young man, dark haired and very tanned, smiled, his brown eyes briefly glazing over her before he stepped back.

"M'lady," Aaron Finch said, making an elaborate sweeping bow and hoping it was his finest.

All conversation suddenly halted, several pairs of eyes going to the woman on the threshold.

"I'm sorry. I seem to be in the way no matter where I go today."

Several looked away at her bold reminder, and there was a pregnant silence before Duncan took the initiative.

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"Nay, la.s.s," he said gently as he grasped her hand, pulling her inside.

Her gaze drifted to the captain, and he smiled softly. It was like a magical spell, those mint eyes, those dimples, Tess felt a bizarre shift of emotions as he moved around the table toward her. He stopped very close, and she couldn't help but recall his brutal kiss and how intimately it ended. She flushed at his rascally expression. Christ, he knows what I'm thinking. Fleetingly she wished they were alone.

Dane absorbed the sensual look in her eyes and prayed it meant more than he was forgiven for any pain he'd caused her. He ached to kiss her. Sweet Neptune, but he'd been unable to concentrate with her out of his sight, fearing for her safety on deck alone with no protector. But he'd had plans to make and knew there wasn't a man aboard who would dare test him further this day.

Gaelan Thorpe's gaze bounced between the captain and Lady Renfrew. They were in each other's pockets without ever touching, he mused, jealous at Dane's good fortune, "You promised introductions, Capt'n," Gaelan encouraged.

Dane dragged his gaze from Tess. Eager puppies, he thought, irritated at their roving eyes. He sighed, facing them, and with a great deal of formality, introduced his first officers to Tess. He was thankful the men showed their best behavior, keeping their language pure, the remarks wittier than the next. Which put a strain on their manners, he mused, considering the last time they'd been in the company of one so fair. The bows were so elaborate Dane fought the urge 106.

to laugh, then glared the drooling sots back when the kisses to the back of her hand lingered a bit longer than was truly proper. When, in a soft whisper, Gaelan apologized for intruding before, Dane felt a peculiar, and definitely unwanted, emotion when she brushed the whole event aside as if it were naught.

"May I get you some refreshment, Lady Renfrew?" Gaelan asked.

"No, thank you," she replied, not caring to be the center of their attention just now.

"A chair perhaps?" Aaron asked, offering his own. "You must be fatigued?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine, gentlemen, please don't let me disturb your meeting," she said, then started to move away. She glanced down at the maps, then did a double take. "This map is wrong," she told them, bending over for a better look. She scanned the markings on crude parchment. "There's an island or two somewhere around here." Her finger vaguely circled the area. "I'm sure of it." When she straightened, it was to see several indulgent smiles. They didn't believe her! She shrugged. "Suit yourselves." It was one thing to play as if in the eighteenth century, but an island was an island, she thought peevishly, and it couldn't be placed elsewhere for the thrill of the game.

"You can read a map?" Gaelan asked.

"Of course I can!" Her ire rose with those surprised looks. "I know you guys don't want me here, and I can't begin to imagine what you think of me, but it clearly isn't as though I don't have a brain in my head! That map is incorrect, but if you all insist 107.

on-"she snapped her mouth shut. "Never mind," Tess muttered, feeling waspish. What was the use? Accept it, believe as they did. Her mind would certainly be more stable if she could. "Why don't you just break your silence and radio the Coast Guard to come pick me up?" she said to the captain. His frown deepened to a scowl, and her gaze moved to his men, pleading for a crumb of confirmation.

A couple of men cleared their throats and looked away; others glanced at each other in utter confusion.

"Ra-di-o, m'lady?" Aaron questioned, a wide-eyed puzzled look on his young face.

"What is a 'Coast Guard'?" Gaelen asked carefully.

"You're a seaman, Mr. Thorpe, figure it out." When he continued to stare at her, she practically shouted, "They guard the coast!' then spun away, moving to the large window and wrapping her arms around her middle.

"Sir, forgive me. If we've upset the lady, I shall-" Aaron Finch cut his words off when his captain inclined his head sharply for them to vacate his cabin.

"No one meant to insult you, m'lady," he said after they'd departed.

She laughed short and without humor. "Yeah, right. They just think I'm playing with half a deck." And I know they are. If she played along better she'd certainly look less of a fool. "When do we get to sh.o.r.e, Captain?"

Dane took one last look at the map before he rolled it up and tied the hide lacing. Phillip was on one of those uncharted islands. He was sure of it. Yet without any coordinates he'd been unable to locate the exact one. How could she know of its existence? He'd 108.

only gleaned that much from crude translations with a few natives and an old Dutch missionary.

When he didn't answer, Tess glanced over her shoulder. "Blackwell," she persisted. "When do we get to dry land?"

"We don't."

He removed his sword and belt from a series of hooks on the wall, strapping them on as he strode to the hutch. Opening a drawer, he removed a large wood box, then lifted the lid. Tess was mesmerized as he swiftly loaded two antique flintlock pistols, then shoved them in the band of his trousers. He slipped a knife into each boot, then removed a third from the drawer and walked over to her, holding it out.

Tess frowned between the vicious-looking blade and the man. "What are you up to now, Blackwell?"

"Take it, protect yourself."

"From what?"

"Stay below and lock the door behind me."

Tess shook her head. "Quit ignoring the question and tell me what's going on."

He grasped her hand, his eyes turning paler as he forced her to accept the sheathed knife. "Do not come on deck for any reason. Is that understood?"

Tess shrugged, then twisted slightly and tossed the knife on the velvet bench. When she turned back, he was already stepping out the door, a hand on the latch.

"How did you know the existence of the islands?" he asked softly, his back to her.

"I've seen it on a tourist map. Or have you forgotten that / still live in the twentieth century?"

His broad shoulders sagged a bit. "Nay, Lady Ren- 109.

frew, I have not forgotten." Then he closed the door behind him.

Over the stern of his ship, Dane sighted down the scope, his lips pulling into a thin line. The vessel was weaving, shifting ballast, tr.i.m.m.i.n.g sail, testing her speed. Showing her muscle. A sure sign she intended to do battle.

"Wind speed, Mr. Finch?"

"Twenty knots, sir."