The Gift (Crown's Spies #3)

The Gift (Crown's Spies #3) Page 28

Sara was in a high fit about something. She looked a sight. Her hair was in wild disarray around her shoulders, and her cheeks were bright.

Then he noticed her state of attire. "What are you doing strutting around the deck dressed in your nightclothes?" he demanded.

Her eyes widened over his rebuke. "I wasn't strutting," she began. She stopped herself with a shake of her head. "This isn't the time to lecture me about my attire. We have a serious problem, husband."

She turned her attention to Jimbo. The pistol made her curtsy awkward. "Please forgive my unladylike appearance, Jimbo, but I've had quite an upset, I can tell you, and I didn't take time to dress."

Jimbo nodded even as he dodged the pistol she was waving back and forth between Nathan and him. He didn't think she realized she was holding the weapon.

"You've had an upset?" Jimbo prodded.

"What in God's name are you doing with that pistol?" Nathan demanded at the same time.

"I might have need for it," Sara explained.

"Lady Sara," Jimbo interjected when Nathan looked as if he was at a loss for words, "calm yourself and tell us what has you so upset. Boy," he added in a growl, "get that damn pistol away from her before she shoots herself."

Nathan reached out to take the weapon from her hand. Sara backed up a space and put the pistol behind her back. "I went to see Nora," she blurted out. "I just wanted to say goodnight to her."

"And?" Nathan asked when she didn't continue.

She stared at Jimbo a long minute before deciding to include him in her explanation, then glanced over her shoulder to make certain no one else was within hearing distance. "She wasn't alone."

She'd whispered that statement and waited for her husband's reaction. He shrugged.

She wanted to shoot him. "Matthew was with her." She nodded vehemently after telling that news.

"And?" Nathan prodded.

"They were in bed together."

She waved the pistol again. "Nathan, you have to do something."

"What would you like me to do?"

He sounded very accommodating, but he was grinning. The man wasn't at all surprised by the news she'd just given him. She should have guessed he'd react that way. Nothing ever seemed to upset him… except her, of course. She always upset him, she admitted.

"She wants you to make Matthew leave," Jimbo interjected. "Isn't that right, Sara?"

She shook her head. "It's a little late to shut the barn door, Jimbo. The cow's already out."

"I'm not getting your meaning," Jimbo returned. "What do cows have to do with your aunt?"

"He dishonored her," she explained.

"Sara, if you don't want me to make Matthew leave Nora alone, just what do you think I should do?" Nathan asked.

"You have to make it right," Sara explained. "You're going to have to marry them. Come along with me, husband. We might as well get it done right away. Jimbo, you can serve as witness."

"You can't be serious."

"Quit your smile, husband. I'm very serious. You're captain of this vessel, so you can legally marry them."

"No."

"Lady Sara, you do come up with the most astonishing suggestions," Jimbo said.

It was obvious to her that neither man was taking her seriously. "I'm responsible for my aunt," Sara said. "Matthew has blemished her honor, and he must marry her. You know, Nathan, this will really solve another worry. My Uncle Henry won't come chasing after Nora for her inheritance once she's remarried. Yes, this could have a happy ending, to my way of thinking."

"No." Nathan's voice was emphatic.

"Sara, does Matthew want to marry Nora?"

She turned to frown at the seaman. "It doesn't matter if he wants to or not."

"Aye, it does," Jimbo argued.

She started waving the pistol around again. "Well, I can see I won't be getting any help from either of you."

Before the two men could agree with that statement Sara whirled around and started for the steps again. "I do like Matthew," she muttered. "It's a shame."

"What are you thinking to do, Lady Sara?" Jimbo called out.

She didn't turn around when she called out her answer. "He's going to marry Nora."

"And if he doesn't?" Jimbo asked, smiling over the matter-of-fact way she'd made that announcement.

"Then I'm going to shoot him. I won't like it, Jimbo, but I'll have to shoot him."

Nathan was right behind Sara. He put his arm around her waist, hauled her up against him, then reached over her shoulder and grabbed hold of the pistol. "You aren't going to shoot anyone," he told her in a low growl.

He handed the pistol to Jimbo, then dragged Sara down to their cabin. He shut the door behind him and continued on toward the bed.

"Unhand me, Nathanial."

"Don't ever call me Nathanial," he ordered.

She pushed away from him and turned to look at his face. "Why can't I call you by your given name?"

"I don't like it, that's why," he told her.

"That's a stupid reason," she argued. She put her hands on her h*ps and frowned at him. Her wrapper opened, and he was given a healthy view of her full br**sts pressed against the thin nightgown.

"Sara, when is this condition of yours going to be over?" he asked.

She didn't answer that question but nagged him back to the topic of his name. "Why don't you like being called Nathanial?"

He took a threatening step forward. "I see red whenever I hear it, Sara. It puts me in a fighting mood."

That wasn't really a suitable explanation, but she wasn't about to point that out to him. "When aren't you in a fighting mood, husband?" she asked.

"Don't bait me."

"Don't yell at me."

He took a deep breath. It didn't calm him one bit.

She smiled. "All right," she whispered in a bid to placate him. "I won't ever call you Nathanial… unless I want you in a fighting mood. You'll know to be on your guard, husband. Agreed?"

He thought those comments were too ignorant to answer. He'd backed her over to the side of the bed. "Now it's your turn to answer me, Sara. When is this damned woman's thing finished?"

She slowly removed her robe. She took her sweet time folding the garment. "You aren't going to do anything about Nora and Matthew, are you?" she asked.

"No, I'm not," he answered. "And neither are you. Leave them alone. Do you understand me?"

She nodded. "I'm going to have to think about this long and hard, husband."

Before he could make a stinging remark about her ability to think much at all she pulled her nightgown up over her head and tossed it on the bed. "I have finished this damned woman's thing," she whispered shyly.

She was trying to be bold, but the blush ruined that effect. Nathan was making her feel awkward because of the way he was looking at her. His hot stare made her toes tingle. She let out a sigh and then moved forward into his arms.

He made her kiss him first. She was in an accommodating mood. She put her arms around his neck and tugged on his long hair to bring his mouth down to hers.

And Lord, did she kiss him. Her mouth was hot, her tongue wild, and it didn't take her any time at all to get the response she wanted.

Nathan took over then. He held her captive by making a fist in her hair, then slowly lowered his head again. His open mouth settled on hers, and his tongue thrust deep inside to mate with hers. Her br**sts were pressed against his bare chest, and her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist.

He let out a low growl when she sucked on his tongue, so she did it again. The sound he made was as arousing to her as his kiss, and she couldn't seem to get close enough to him.

He pulled away to remove his clothes but stopped when she began to nibble on the side of his neck. He shuddered in reaction. His hands stroked her smooth shoulders. The feel of her silky skin against his rough, callused palms made him realize once again how very fragile she was. "You're so delicate," he whispered. "And I'm…"

He couldn't retain his thought, for she was making him forget everything but feeling. She kissed every inch of his chest. Her tongue tickled his sensitive ni**les. When he gruffly ordered her to cease her torment she doubled her efforts to drive him beyond the brink of sanity.

She was forced to stop when he pulled on her hair and shoved the side of her face against his chest. He was taking deep, gulping breaths. Then her fingers circled his navel. He quit breathing. She smiled. "You make me feel so warm, so alive, so very strong. I want to show you how much I love you, Nathan. Will you let me?"

He understood her intent when she began to unbutton his pants. Her hands shook. Then she slowly disengaged herself from his embrace and knelt down. Nathan didn't remember much after that. His delicate little wife had turned into a blaze of sensuality. She was like the sun, scorching him with her soft mouth, her wet tongue, her incredibly arousing touch.

He couldn't take the sweet agony long. He wasn't very gentle when he pulled her up and lifted her high off the ground. He forced her legs around his waist as he captured her mouth for a long, intoxicating kiss.

"God, Sara, I hope you're ready for me," he whispered on a low groan. "I can't wait any longer. I have to be inside you. Now. Then I'll be able to slow down, I promise."

He tried to shift positions, but she pulled on his hair. "Nathan, tell me you love me," she demanded.

He answered her by kissing her again. Sara soon forgot all about wanting to hear his declaration of love. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, and all she could think about was finding fulfillment.

His hands gripped the sides of her hips, and he began to ease slowly inside her.

Her head fell back. She let out a low whimper. "Please hurry, Nathan."

"I want to drive you crazy first," he ground out. "Like you drive me…"

She bit his neck. He thrust deep. He was shaking as much as she was. She squeezed him tight. He groaned with pleasure.

He braced their fall onto the bed with his knee, then covered her completely. His hands cupped the sides of her face, and he leaned up on his elbows and gently kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her sweet lips.

"God, you always taste so good," he growled. He nibbled on the side of her neck, teased the lobe of her ear with his tongue, and the last thing he remembered saying to her was that he was going to set the pace this time.

But then she drew her knees up, taking even more of him inside her. She arched up against him. The provocation was too much for him to endure. He felt enveloped by her heat, her intoxicating scent… her love.

The bed squeaked with each deep thrust. He wanted their lovemaking to last forever. The fever of passion raged between them. Sara suddenly tightened even more around him. She cried out his name. Her surrender gave him his own. He poured his seed inside her with his last thrust. His deep, guttural growl drowned out their pounding heartbeats.

He collapsed on top of her, too weak to move, too content ever to want to move away from her. His head rested in the hollow of her neck. His breaths were still deep, shaky. So were hers. That fact made him smile inside.

As soon as she loosened her hold on him he rolled to his side. He took her with him for the simple reason that he couldn't seem to let go of her.

She couldn't quit crying.

It was a joyful interlude, but he knew it was just a matter of time before she started nagging him again to give her the words she longed to hear.

He didn't want to disappoint her, yet he wouldn't lie to her. And in the dark recesses of his mind fear took root. What if he wasn't capable of ever giving her what she wanted?

Nathan considered himself the master of the game when it came to hurting people. He'd had quite a lot of experience in that area. Yet when it came to loving someone he didn't have the faintest idea how. Just considering that problem scared the hell out of him. Damn if he'd allow himself to become so vulnerable, he thought. Damn if he would.

She felt him tense against her. She knew what would come next. He'd try to leave her. She wasn't going to let him this time, however, and she vowed that if she had to, she'd even follow him out the door.

How could her husband be so gentle, so giving, so wonderfully considerate when he made love to her and then turn into a statue of ice? What in God's name was going through his mind?

"Nathan?"

He didn't answer her. She expected that rudeness. "I love you," she whispered.

"I know you do," he muttered when she nudged him.

"And?" she persisted.

His sigh was long, drawn out. "Sara, you don't have to love me. It isn't a requirement in this marriage."

He thought he'd been very logical when he'd made that statement of fact. He'd skirted the true issue quite nicely, to his way of thinking.

Sara tried to shove him out of the bed. "You are the most impossible man I've ever known. Listen well, Nathan. I have something to say to you."

"How could I not listen, Sara?" he drawled. "You're screaming like a shrew again."

He did have a point there, she admitted to herself. She had been screaming. She rolled onto her back, pulled the light cover up over herself, and stared at the ceiling. "God's truth, you do frustrate me," she muttered.

He took exception to that remark. "The hell I do," he countered. He blew the candle flame out, then rolled onto his side and roughly pulled her into his arms. "I satisfy you every damned time I touch you."

That wasn't what she meant at all, but he sounded so arrogantly pleased with himself that she decided not to argue. "I still have something important to say to you, Nathan. Will you listen?"

"Will you promise to go to sleep directly after you've said this thing?"

"Yes."

He grunted. She guessed that sound meant he didn't really believe her. She was about to tell him what she thought about his rude behavior when he pulled her even closer to him and gently began to rub her back. His chin rested on the top of her head.

He was being extremely affectionate. Sara was astonished. She wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

She decided she didn't care if he realized or not. The action was so telling, she couldn't contain the burst of joy that filled her heart.