The Piratical Miss Ravenhurst. Louise Allen
had a few other things on your mind,’ she suggested, trying to drag her imagination away from what was happening on deck.
Nathan gave a snort of laughter, stirring her hair. ‘Yes, just a few.’ His hold on her tightened, not unpleasantly. He felt very strong. It was a novelty, being held by a man other than Papa. He’d been one for rapid bear-hugs, her father, impetuous lifts so her feet left the floor as he twirled her round. ‘How did you get this thin, Clem? I’d better keep calling you Clem, less risk of a slip.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, her lips touching the soft linen of his coarse white shirt as she spoke. A fraction of an inch away was the heat of his skin; she could almost taste it. ‘I was always slender. When my father died I didn’t feel much like eating; then, when I realised what Uncle Joshua was doing, my appetite vanished all together.’ She shivered and felt Nathan’s hand caress gently down her swollen cheek.
‘They made me eat the night I escaped. Apparently I was so skinny it would be unpleasant for Cousin Lewis to bed with me. He said I was like a boy.’ Nathan stiffened and muttered something, but all she could hear was that low growl again. ‘That’s what gave me the idea. I still had the clothes from when I used to run wild as a child with the local planters’ sons.’
‘How did you get out?’ He was talking to distract her, she thought, grateful for the attempt.
‘The house is on a cliff and my room has a balcony overhanging the sea. I wrote a despairing note to make them think I had thrown myself over and I climbed up the creepers from the balcony, along the ledge just below the roof and then slid down some other roofs. I stole a horse from one of the penns about two miles away.’ Nathan made an interrogative noise. ‘You’d say farm, I suppose. Or agricultural estate. I threw my clothes and my plait of hair away far from the house. They’ll think I’m dead, I hope.’
Clemence felt him lift his head. ‘It’s over.’
That poor man. He had probably done many awful things himself in the past, but he deserved a fair trial for his crimes, some dignity, not a brutal death for a tiny mistake.
Nathan didn’t free her and she did not try to duck out of his embrace. It was an illusion, she knew, but even the illusion of safety, of someone who cared, was enough just now. She felt her body softening, relaxing into his. ‘You’ve got guts. What did you hope to do?’ he asked.
‘Stow away, get to another island, find work.’ The lie slid easily over her tongue without her having to think. However good he was being to her now, if he knew she was a Ravenhurst, guessed at the power and the wealth of her relatives, then she became not a stray he had rescued, but thousands of pounds’ worth of hostage.
‘And what do you want to do now?’ he asked.
‘Have a bath,’ Clemence answered fervently.
Nathan chuckled, opened his arms and let her sit back upright. ‘We could both do with that,’ he agreed. Free of his embrace, she could study him. His eyes were not just blue, she realised. There was a golden ring round the iris and tiny flecks of black. As he watched her they seemed to grow darker, more intense. ‘I’ll have to see what I can organise. It’ll be cold water, though.’
She nodded, hardly hearing what he was saying, her syes searching his face for something she could not define. It felt as though he was still holding her, as though the blow to her head had shifted her thoughts and her perceptions. He knew she was a woman now, and somehow that made her see him differently also.
‘Nathan…’ Clemence touched his arm, not certain what she was asking, and then he was pulling her into his arms and his mouth took her lips and she knew.
Chapter Five
How had he not realised immediately that Clem was a woman? Every instinct he possessed had been trying to tell him, and a life of near misses had taught him to listen to his instincts. He had been focused on getting into the crew of the Sea Scorpion and staying alive while he did so. Perhaps his brain had more sense than his instincts and put survival over sex.
Nathan held himself still, caressing her mouth with his as though she were made of eggshell porcelain. Oh, yes, not a girl but a woman. Young, yes, untouched certainly, but everything that was feminine in her had been in her eyes as she looked at him a moment ago, just as every male impulse was telling him to claim her now.
It was a long time since he had felt like this about a woman. Seven years, in fact. But that was in another country, and besides, the wench is dead. He shook himself; now was not the time to be thinking of those dark dramas and the poetry into which he had plunged in the aftermath of the scandal on Minorca.
She was transforming under his hands, that thin body curving into him, her boyish gestures becoming languid and feminine. The strong part of him, the code of honour he had been brought up in, the naval discipline that had formed him and had all but broken him, were enough to stop the animal within from pressing her back on to the hard bunk and taking her, but they were not enough to stop him kissing, holding, inhaling the female scent of her skin. In the brutal masculine world in which he was trapped, that scent was like everything civilised and beautiful.
If he tried to take her now, he probably could. Not because she was wanton, but because she was frightened and he represented all she had of safety. He sensed that in her near collapse into tears and could only admire the way she had summoned up her courage to keep fighting. That alone was enough to restrain him, he realised, sliding his tongue between her lips, sweeping it around to taste her, tease the sensitive tissue. Clem gave a little gasp, her breath hitching, and he lifted his mouth away.
Too much, too soon. She is so fragile, Nathan thought, as he ran his thumb gently under the downswept lashes that shielded those big green eyes and feathered her undamaged cheek. Despite her height, her bones felt slender; despite her deceptively boyish appearance, the high cheekbones and pointed chin had a charm that spoke of delicacy.
He couldn’t imagine the courage it had taken for her to escape the way she had, the guts she needed to cope and adapt to finding herself here on what must seem a ship from hell.
‘I think that cold bath is probably a good thing for any number of reasons,’ he said, finding his voice oddly husky.
‘I—’ She opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘What happened?’
‘I kissed you.’
‘I know that.’ She gave him a look part-exasperation, part-amusement, wholly female. ‘Why? I mean, why did you stop?’
‘Because I shouldn’t have started and, having started, I knew damn well I shouldn’t continue. I don’t seduce virgins, Clem.’ Although one once seduced me. And now he really had opened a Pandora’s box of troubles for himself. He didn’t need his imagination any longer to guess how she would be in his arms, he knew. He needed no fantasy to conjure up the sweet softness of her mouth or the taste of her.
Nathan stood up and went to sit on the far side of the table. No reason to let her see just how aroused that insane kiss had made him.
‘Thank you,’ she said politely, making him smile despite himself. ‘But you shouldn’t take all the blame. I enjoyed it and I feel better for you holding me. I’ve missed being hugged,’ she added, rather forlornly.
Oh, God! There was nothing he would like more than to hug her. And kiss her. And take off those boy’s clothes and unwrap the binding around her small breasts and kiss the soft, compressed curves beneath. And lay her back on that hard bunk and—
‘I must go up on deck. I’ll tell them I want a tub sent down and some water and they are to be quiet about it because you are very sick from that blow to your head.’
He stood looking down at Clem, fighting the urge to grab her, bundle her into a boat and get away. Which was impossible. There were things he had to do and no one girl was going to prevent him doing them.
Clemence. He said the name in his mind,