The Pirate's Reckless Touch Read online

  “Where?”

  She glared.

  “Tell me,” Rawden demanded. “Our agreement will still stand.”

  “In Cornwall,” she said in a hushed voice. “Sea caves in Cornwall.”

  Rawden leaned his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers in front of his face. He regarded her calm expression through hooded eyes. His job had just gotten much more complicated. On top of protecting a headstrong lass with more secrets than she cared to share, he would have a bloodthirsty pirate on his tail looking for an unmatched treasure map. He considered her serious face with calculating eyes. She was watching him with guarded hopefulness. His lips spread into a slow smile. He had much to lose—but so much more to gain: his pay in gold and perhaps a cut of the Cornish treasure. Yes, he thought, he would see this adventure to its profitable end.

  “Well,” he said, leaning back with a mild chuckle, “at least now I know the direction we are sailing in.”

  Chapter 4

  When Juliana set her bare feet aboard the infamous Golden Maiden, she knew she was getting a small glimpse of the Golden Age of piracy. Smooth wood gleamed and billowing sails hung from imposing masts. It was a beautifully designed ship.

  And then she felt the stares. All the men—from the burliest swabbie to the scrawniest deck hand—had stopped whatever it was they had been doing to stare, slack-jawed. Juliana’s chest tightened. She recognised the look in their eyes.

  Hungry. Wanting. Waiting.

  Even if they may have once been the most disciplined and steadfast pirate crew in existence, they now resembled a pack of rabid dogs more than anything else. A hand descended heavily on her small shoulder, and she looked up in time to see Rawden level his crew with an uncompromising glare.

  “Listen up,” he boomed thunderously. “This here girl is my guest—so no one touches her but me.”

  A collective cloud of loud grumbling rose from the mean-looking crew.

  “She’s also your meal ticket, you scallywags,” Rawden announced. “She’s leading us to a stash of gold. So no one—and I mean, no one—” he punctuated dangerously “—is to lay a finger on her. Except me.”

  The groaning turned to cheers as Rawden took her by the upper arm and began to drag her away from their leering eyes.

  “Give it all away, will you?” Juliana hissed angrily.

  Rawden hustled her towards the forecastle, and her feet slapped against the deck as she skipped to keep up.

  “You should know it’s important to give them a reason not to hurt you,” Rawden muttered under his breath. “Now where to first, missy?”

  “Portsmouth,” she said without hesitating.

  “Wilkins!” Rawden shouted above the din. “Full sails to Portsmouth harbour.”

  “Aye, aye Captain!”

  And then Rawden pushed her into his quarters, closing the door behind him.

  Juliana padded slowly into the centre of the luxuriously appointed cabin, tossing away his sopping long coat. The room was filled with dark wooden furniture and rich carpets. The cabin was lit by a slow-burning fireplace at the far end. In the centre was an imposing, ancient oak table, and in one corner was a wide, magnificent bed.

  “And I suppose that this is where I’ll be sleeping?” she asked sweetly.

  “This is where we will be sleeping, my darling,” Rawden corrected. “Unless you’d rather take up a cot down below with the crew.”

  “No, thank you,” Juliana said caustically, flipping her dripping hair over one shoulder. “Though your decor is sorely lacking. No Christmas candles, no holly—not even a pine bough to celebrate the season!”

  “Well then,” Rawden returned curtly. “You’ll have to make do with my company.”

  “Why don’t you take up with your crew,” she snapped, hands on hips. “And leave a lady to her private space.”

  “A lady—” he slurred the word “—wouldn’t have taken up with a pirate in the first place.”

  Juliana’s eyes narrowed.

  “So what would you say that I am, then?”

  “Important cargo, perhaps?” Rawden quipped, tapping his chin lightly with a finger. “And for your information, cargo does not move around my ship.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you are not to leave this cabin—not for anything and not for even an instant—unless I am escorting you,” Rawden commanded sternly.

  “You cannot be serious,” Juliana countered, her voice rising.

  “I assure you that I am.” Rawden shook a finger at her. “You will not venture from these quarters.”

  “Important cargo?” Juliana protested indignantly. “More like a prisoner! I will not be so treated, dear sir!”

  Rawden took a good, long look at her. Her dress was still soaking wet, and the sheer material clung to her curves scandalously. Desire spiked in his gut as he traced the shadowy lines beneath the thin fabric, trailing from her shapely calves up to her flushing shoulders. When his hooded eyes reached her face, he discovered her sweetly blushing despite her angry glare.

  “You are quite the sight for hungry eyes,” he said huskily, his feet moving before he realised it. “Do you even realise what my men would do to you if they caught you alone?”

  “I can protect myself, thank you very much,” she huffed.

  “What? With this?” Rawden asked, his fingers nimbly clamping over her thigh, blocking her access to her only blade. “You’re much too naive, my dear.”

  “I do not like being handled, Captain Wood,” she breathed in a furious hiss. “Remove your hand at once.”

  “No,” Rawden answered, fingers clenching around her shapely thigh. “You need to understand. You are not as invincible as you think.”

  His other hand shot out to grab a fistful of her long hair. Though his grip was not at all painful, it was firm. He drew her closer slowly, his eyes smouldering and resolute.

  “Even if my men are loyal to me, their…baser instincts would override logic.” He leaned in to inhale the scent of her. “And not one of them would be able to resist plucking such a ripe fruit. The minute one of them caught you alone, you would find your clothes ripped away and your body ruined. Is your freedom to roam the deck worth such a price?”

  Juliana studied his earnest expression, her lips turned down into a frown.

  “Are you trying to tell me that keeping me a prisoner in your cabin is for my own good and not for your own?”

  Rawden shrugged, adopting his cavalier facade once more.

  “Believe what you will, little missy,” he chuckled. “But like it or not—you will not be leaving this room without my say-so.”

  Juliana did not like the current turn of events. She felt another string slip from her control as the pirate captain took command of yet another aspect of their tenuous relationship. She forced a flippant smirk to her lips.

  “Fine. As long as you understand the repercussions of annoying a lady,” she quipped.

  “Which are?”

  “You’ll soon find out. Have you never lived with an irritated before?” she said breezily.

  He let his gaze trail up and down her svelte form.

  “I’m sure the magnificent view will temper any minor inconveniences,” he said with a sultry grin. “You do cut quite the scene, my darling.”

  She did not flinch when his arms closed around her; rather, she twined her wrists behind his neck. Rawden smoothed his palms up her sides, relishing the feel of the wet fabric sliding over her slick skin.

  “As do you,” she replied, fingering the edge of his open collar.

  “I am quite sure that you cannot see through my clothing,” he answered devilishly, his lips at her neck.

  “Perhaps,” Juliana countered with a laugh. “But from this angle, I am quite sure that my modesty is intact.”

  In response, Rawden spun her in his arms, anchoring her to him with a forearm around her waist. His other hand skimmed the swell of her breasts. He leaned forward to peer greedily over
her shoulder and got an eyeful of her heaving bosom and her erect nipples under sheer fabric.

  “And now?”

  “Now, you are being quite cheeky.”

  “I’ll show you cheeky,” he grunted.

  With his free hand, he began to massage her chilled flesh, his fingers deftly searching out the curves and crevices of her body. Juliana’s breathing hitched in her throat as she threw her head back against his shoulder, her nails digging passionately into his bicep. Rawden smiled at the wanton flush creeping up her chest. As he smoothed his rough palm under the hem of her wet dress and up her silken thigh, he began to tug at her short sleeve. The damp material slid down easily, baring the curve of her creamy shoulder. He nipped lightly at the exposed flesh, his breath making her shiver.

  “Now,” he whispered against her skin as his hands began to search her body with more fervour, “I wonder where you’ve hidden that map.”

  In a sudden flash of white cloth and golden hair, Juliana was halfway across the room, standing by the fireplace. Though her chest still heaved with desire, her eyes were cold and wary. She was tense, and her hand was again at her thigh. Rawden watched as she gripped her dagger’s hilt with white-knuckled ferocity.

  She’s too quick, he thought, and more dangerous than she seems.

  “You press too far,” she warned, her gaze unblinking.

  “And you assume too much,” he returned evenly. “Why would I settle for just one sovereign a day when I could have a whole cave of Roman gold?”

  “You will not reach the Roman gold without my directions.”

  “And yet,” he said, taking a step forward, “here you are, in my quarters with only your short dagger as a defence.”

  “You promised to protect me,” she reminded him.

  “And I will,” he affirmed with a smirk. “But I did not promise to let you keep your map.”

  “Do you mean this map?”

  Juliana dropped the hem of her skirt to lift a damp, folded-up square of aged paper between two fingers. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she flicked the paper into the low-burning fire. It crumbled into ash and disappeared with a quick plume of grey smoke.

  “There now,” she said, voice steady. “Now I am well and truly the only one that knows the way to my treasure.”

  Rawden narrowed his eyes and studied her for a brief moment.

  Quick-witted. Defiant. Fearless. Miss Juliana Wright had once again proved herself a force to be reckoned with. A breathtakingly beautiful force.

  He walked to her with slow, deliberate steps. Though she stiffened at his approach, she did not flinch when he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek with the back of his hand. His touch was tender, but his eyes were hard and calculating.

  “Clever girl,” he said softly, dangerously.

  He moved in closer, sliding his palm up her neck to cup her cheek. Lowering his face to hers, he dragged one fingertip across her bare shoulder. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of black-and-green inking on her shoulder blade—a tattoo, perhaps? But he did not have time to dwell on the curiosity; at the moment, there were important negotiations to be made.

  “I believe we need to revisit the terms of our agreement,” Rawden told her, his hands gliding down her arms.

  “And why is that?” she asked, tilting her head to give his lips access to her collarbone.

  “Because there is something new on the table, Miss Wright,” he announced.

  “Something new?”

  He spun around suddenly with her in his arms. Lifting her effortlessly, he set her atop the wooden table so that she was perched on its edge with his hips wedged between her thighs. With one hand, he carelessly swept a pile of papers to the floor; with the other, he gently pushed her shoulder to the rough tabletop. He planted one open hand beside her surprised face and stared down, leaning over her.

  “Yes, there is the matter of the gold—and my share of it.”

  “I already promised you one gold sovereign for every—”

  “Every day until we find your treasure.” He paused to pin her with a serious stare. “Will you make me your enemy after that? Your gold coins will be nothing butcrumbs when we lay eyes on the treasure.”

  “Clever man.” Juliana threw his words back at him with brief smile. “So you would claim a share of what is mine?”

  “Yes. And why not? I will have helped you find it.”

  “Very well,” she acquiesced. “You may take ten percent for your troubles.”

  Rawden chuckled and then lowered his face to press a kiss to her jaw. The bargaining had begun.

  “Half of the treasure,” he countered. “And no less.”

  Juliana gave as good as she got, tightening her thighs around his waist and twining her fingers in his hair as she twisted just so.

  “Too much,” she sighed into his hair. “You can have twenty percent.”

  Rawden groaned and thrust the evidence of his arousal against her core. He splayed his fingers over her ribs and bent lower to drag his teeth against her earlobe. The air became heady and thick with the heat between their bodies.

  “You drive a hard bargain, my dear,” he grunted, at the edge of losing all control. “I’ll take a quarter of the treasure—and in exchange, I’ll protect you for a fortnight after you’ve found your treasure.”

  Juliana stilled, pushing him back to face him squarely. Her blue eyes searched his expression, weighing every nuance in his face. After a moment, she grinned and pulled him close—and the deliciously carnal spark they had been nursing burst into full flame.

  “I accept your terms, Captain Wood,” she said, her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. “How shall we seal this agreement?”

  “Let me think,” he answered, leaning down and bracing himself against the table. “A kiss?”

  She arched a coy brow before tugging his face close to hers, and he was briefly surprised by the sheer intensity of her kiss. The minute her lips touched his, it was as if they had both been swept up in a raging typhoon of lush sensations. She suckled greedily at his lips, and he returned her open-mouthed kisses with equal fervour, his tongue sweeping past her sweet lips. His hands found their way to her smooth thighs as hers found the opening of his shirt. With a swift jerk, she pulled his shirt open and slid her hands over his chest. As the pads of her fingers swept over the ridges of his abdomen, he pulled his shirt off and threw it to the floor. Her hands kneaded his taut muscles, and he tangled his fingers in her long hair, pulling her into an even deeper kiss. She rocked against him and moaned, hands clawing at his back. Growling with desire, Rawden pushed her back down onto the table and stretched her arms up above her head, threading his fingers between hers. He continued to ravage her with hot, insistent kisses, and she bucked beneath him in response. Rawden smoothed his rough hands down her long arms, around the column of her neck and over her slender shoulders. Then, with his palms flush against her heated skin, he pulled down the thin fabric of her gown, hitching the elasticated collar under the generous swell of her breasts. Juliana’s teeth raked his bottom lip, and she arched up off the table as Rawden’s calloused fingers grazed the smooth contours, catching lightly on her hardening caramel peaks. He wound his arms around her waist and drew her upward as his lips left hers to trail nibbling kisses down her throat and past her collarbone. He trailed a slick line down her sternum with his tongue and grinned when she gasped and clutched blindly at his hair. He cupped one generous mound with a hand and then latched on to the other with his mouth, his tongue swirling seductive patterns on her sensitive flesh. Juliana could not help but cry out in pleasure, her toes curling and her thighs tightening around his grinding hips.

  It was perfect. It was absolutely perfect. And their agreement was about to be sealed with much more than just a kiss.

  Rawden was just getting ready to reach down to unbutton his trousers when a loud knock sounded on his door.

  “Not now!” he barked shortly, his lips barely leaving Juliana’s exposed
skin.

  “We need you at the wheel, Captain,” his first mate called insistently, rapping on the door again.

  Rawden growled, gathering the girl into his arms and pressing his nose into her skin to inhale her sweet scent. Then he straightened and pulled her off the table, gently setting her down on her feet. She slumped against his chest, and he could feel her heart racing.

  So close, he thought to himself, they had been so close.

  Juliana sighed disappointedly—and then stepped away. She moved closer to the fire, unobtrusively fixing her garments as she did so. Rawden let loose a string of expletives under his breath before turning to scowl at the closed door.

  “Wait for me at the wheel,” he commanded, his voice rough with unspent passion.

  He glanced at Juliana, eyes still slightly wild.

  “You should dry out that dress,” he suggested. “We have no other women’s clothes aboard. We will reach Portsmouth by tomorrow’s eve.”

  Juliana nodded and watched as he stormed away, his footfalls heavy with frustration. Just before he pulled the door open, he spun around to wag a finger at her.

  “This conversation isn’t over, my dear,” he said with a wicked grin that promised more to come.

  But by the time Rawden stumbled blindly back into his quarters, the fire had died down to burning embers and the dark furnishings were cast in shadow. The ship still shifted in the angry waves, but after a moment of adjusting his eyes to the semi-darkness, Rawden strode into the cabin easily, shutting the door firmly behind him. Heavy silence hung like a blanket, and he spied a small figure curled up in his sheets. He sighed.

  Apparently their steamy conversation was over after all.

  Rawden slowly stripped to his underclothes, tossing his damp, salty garments over the back of a chair. His attention turned to the bed. He briefly wondered if she’d taken his advice to dry her damp clothing, or if she’d stubbornly been shivering away all night long. She looked warm enough at the moment.

  His eyes surveyed the scene. Juliana had evidently decided that his entire bed was now her personal domain; for though she was small, she had planted herself firmly in the middle of the mattress.