The Infamous Rogue Part 44

Two days ago, she had departed from England. She had wished Lady Lucas a fond farewell, she had penned Imogen Rayne a conciliatory note, and she had expressed her sincere appreciation to the duke and d.u.c.h.ess for their friends.h.i.+p and hospitality in another epistle. She had terminated al relations.h.i.+ps...bar one.

He had not come for her.

Sophia had thought he might swoop into port. She had imagined the theatrical way she'd rebuff the black devil if he'd begged her to stay with him in England.

But he had not come for her.

And her revenge fantasy seemed trite and hollow now. She envisioned a far different outcome: a longing look...a word of contrition...a spirited kiss.

She sighed.

Loudly.

"Are you all right, Miss Dawson?"

Captain Higgins stepped beside her, thoughtful. At age sixty-six, he sported a white coif with fas.h.i.+onable curls and a studious countenance, befitting his rank and experience.

She was under his protection during the two-month voyage home. He had proved a sage commander and an amiable supper companion.

"I'm fine, Captain."

He looked out to sea. "It's a lovely night."

Sophia gazed at the full moon, low in the starry heavens. The ethereal white light was so pure and bright. "Brilliant."

"Are you comfortable, Miss Dawson? Do you have everything that you need?"

No, not everything, she thought wistfully.

"I'm fond of my quarters. Thank you, Captain."

He offered her his arm. "I've come to escort you to supper."

She smiled and placed her hand on the white linen sleeve of his formal coat. "I'm famished."

Later that night, Sophia trolled her private cabin, restless. The rich fare was still anch.o.r.ed in her belly, and her head was stil filled with rambunctious thoughts, making it difficult for her to fall asleep.

He had not come for her.

The blackguard had deserted her in port, leaving her hampered with so many tempestuous words. She was never going to get any rest so long as the bothersome reflections occupied her thoughts.

Sophia quit stalking the small s.p.a.ce and rummaged through the top crate stacked at the foot of her bed. She grabbed the neatly folded letter-writing desk and sat on the soft feather tick, curling her legs together. She opened the slanted box with green felt upholstery, positioned a piece of paper across the hard, woolly surface, and dipped the quill into the small copper inkwell.

She had lost the opportunity to confess to him the brewing feelings inside her, so she intended to record them instead. She might mail the letter to him once she reached Jamaica. Or perhaps she might keep it as a token of her thoughts about the man. But for now, she scratched goose feather against paper, emptying her mind.

A blast shattered the stillness.

Sophia smeared the ink all over the paper and her hand, her heart pumping in wild beats. She skirted across the cabin and peered through the scuttle, but there were only black, velvety waves and haunting moonlight. She moved into the pa.s.sageway next. She was still dressed in her evening wear, and so mingled with the other pa.s.sengers, who were all frightened and disoriented.

"What's happened?" demanded Sophia.

A young gentleman hugged his panicked wife. "There was an explosion."

"Are we sinking?" cried the other woman.

The myriad voices and cramped causeway offered Sophia little insight. She pushed through the throng of anxious pa.s.sengers and scaled the steps, poking her head through the hatchway.

Smoke roiled across the wide deck.

Tars scattered in alarm.

Was there a mishap in the galley? Had the vessel rammed another s.h.i.+p at sea?

She coughed, the smoke stifling. Tears filled her eyes, the fumes biting...Sulfur. She sensed it now, the stinging stench.

She grabbed a desperate sailor. "Are we under attack?"

He bobbed his head. "Pirates!"

The impostors!

Sophia curled her fingers into fists. The b.l.o.o.d.y cutthroats! Quincy had mentioned the dastardly charlatans were still at large, that they had failed to apprehend them.

"Best get belowdecks, miss."

But Sophia was miffed. She stalked across the deck instead. She wasn't in any immediate danger. The impostors didn't want to sink the vessel. The cannon blast had served as a warning to stand down, to prepare to be boarded. The brigands wanted treasure.

Sophia eyed the sinister three-masted silhouette. Moonlight kissed its sails. It was positioned broadside, its cannons aimed at the t.i.tan.

She heard the distinct footfalls of heavy boots as the pirates boarded the s.h.i.+p.

"Stand your ground, men," ordered Captain Higgins.

The crew stilled as the brigands slowly crossed the deck, hulking shadows cutting through the waft of smoke.

One thick figure moved through the fumes and headed for her. She reached for her dagger, prepared to cut the corsair's gullet...but she gasped as a set of dark and commanding eyes fixed on her.

Black Hawk!

Sophia's heart boomed. She was transfixed. What was he doing here? How was he even here? The man had forsaken piracy to protect his sister...and yet he looked like a pirate, so dark and dangerous, rough and wild. He had his hair in a queue, cheeks scratchy-looking with stubble, clothes coa.r.s.e. No one aboard the vessel would recognize him as Captain Hawkins, the brother of a d.u.c.h.ess. He was Black Hawk. And she pulsed with giddy energy at the wicked sight of him.

"Keep your wits, gentlemen." Quincy brandished a pistol. "Black Hawk won't harm you. He's just here to take your most valuable cargo." He grinned. "We understand there's an heiress...o...b..ard: a Miss Dawson. We've been following her for some time now."

All four brothers were on deck in disguise. Sophia recognized their voices and mannerisms...but it was the towering figure of James that mesmerized her the most, made her weak with vertigo.

James stopped in front in her, his thrumming strength so heady, she almost sighed with pleasure to see him again, to feel him so intimately.

He glanced at the dagger in her ink-stained hand and slowly lifted a brow...before he crouched and scooped her into his arms, dumping her over his wide shoulder.

Sophia didn't protest the jostling, too staggered to breathe a word.

Captain Higgins stormed after the pirate lord. "Vile vermin!"

"Don't start a fuss," Wil iam said sternly, curtailing the commander's heroics as he positioned his body between the man and his brother. "Consider the other pa.s.sengers in your charge, Captain. Miss Dawson will remain unharmed, I a.s.sure you."

Captain Higgins bl.u.s.tered, "Liar!"

Sophia was lowered down the rope ladder and into the waiting rowboat. She gathered her scattered senses and shouted, "Don't fight them, Captain Higgins!"

She didn't want the good captain or the innocent crew and pa.s.sengers to end up in a scuffle with the pirates. She wasn't in any real danger...she was sure.

"You heard the lady," from Edmund.

The brigands quickly retreated after the pirate captain and his "cargo."

"You'll hang for this!" Captain Higgins grabbed the starboard rail and vehemently proclaimed, "I'll see to it that the ransom is paid, Miss Dawson. Be brave!"

A few minutes later, Sophia found herself aboard the Bonny Meg...inside the captain's quarters.

James effortlessly set her on the ground. She staggered backward, woozy, thoughts whirling. "Are you mad?" She grabbed her midriff, gasped for breath. "You belong in Bedlam, not Newgate."

The rogue's smoldering glare bewitched her, and she sensed the thril ing s.h.i.+vers that caressed her spine as her body warmed.

He closed the door before he approached her in deliberate strides, his robust figure so full of vim. He reached for her, twirled a lock of her mussed hair around his long finger.

"You boarded the s.h.i.+p."

The gentle touch disarmed her, summoning every wretched hurt and throbbing want to the forefront of her thoughts. She trembled with the burden of sensations.

"You didn't stop me." She was breathless. "You didn't come for me."

"Did you think I would?" The man's eyes glowed as the milky light from the full moon pierced the scuttle and bounced off the stormy pools. "Did you think I would beg you to stay with me?"

Sophia shuddered, her blood singing as he slowly dropped to his knees, keeping her ensnared with his commanding eyes the whole time. A strangled cry seeped from her lips as he circled his burly arms around her a.r.s.e and buried his face into her belly, rousing every fine hair on her body to sensitive life.

He breathed deep.

Sophia's muscles capered at the man's hot sigh, sinking through her apparel and branding her taut skin. She fingered his dark tresses, wove her shaky fingers through the tight queue.

"Do you want me to beg, sweetheart?"

The pulsing rhythm in her breast now pounded in her ears. "No."

She closed her eyes. She let the bounder's crus.h.i.+ng hold and sinful lips torment her senses. She had no desire to hear him beg, the way she had begged for him inside the very same cabin. As soon as he had dropped to his knees, he had begged her in silence. And that was enough.

"You should have told me." He bussed her midriff. "You should have told me all those years ago you were unhappy on the island."

Her lips quivered, her heart throbbed. "You're right." She squeezed his long tresses between her fingers. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't have deserted you. I should have told you what was wrong. I'm sorry I hurt you...but you still want me to feel pain, despair."

He stroked her backside in slow and tender regard, spreading his large fingers apart, warming her posterior, her innards with his powerful touch. "I was angry then. Vengeful.

But I'm not anymore. Forgive me."

Sophia swallowed a sob. There was something about those heartfelt words that cut through the thick and putrid layers of hate and hurt, making her rich with a pounding warmth. The sentiment stirred her blood and warmed her belly and eased the pressure in her aching head.

"Marry me, Sophia."

The words. He had said the words she had longed to hear from a man for so long. But it was not the words that moved her anymore, but that the words had come from him.

She sniffed. "I'm going to make you miserable for the rest of your life, Black Hawk."

"I know." He lifted his s.e.xy eyes, the surrounding skin still bruised from the gaolers'

thras.h.i.+ng. "But I'l be far more miserable without you, sweetheart."

She snorted. But a smile touched her trembling lips, too, and she stroked his temples in a soft and lazy manner, her heart booming with the words she had yearned to express since the first day she had met him on the island. "I love you, James."

He shuddered. She sensed the vibrations ripple across her belly and along her legs. His eyes glossy, he said roughly, "I love you, Sophia."

She took in a shaky breath, smiling. She was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with brilliant light and comforting heat and familiar desire.

She cupped his coa.r.s.e cheeks and caged his features firmly between her palms as she lowered her mouth and captured his lips in a long and sensuous kiss.

She was free. Free from dogma and fear. Free to be the woman she desired to be...in the arms of the man she desired.

Sophia pushed him against the floor and straddled him, hot pa.s.sion burring in her belly, making her weak-and hungry.

She pinned his arms above his head and pressed her torso against his strapping chest.

"I'll marry you, James...but under one condition."

He lifted a smoky brow.

"Kil the snake."

He chuckled, a hoa.r.s.e and sensual sound.

"I'm serious, James." She glowered. "I won't have it in our house."

"I know you're serious." The man's chest shuddered with laughter. "How about if I give her to William instead?"

Sophia mulled over the proposition. "Deal."

She then scooped his wicked lips into her mouth and kissed him until they were both breathless, their hunger quenched.