The Devil's Necklace. Kat Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ grateful just to be alive.

      It took a while for the dinghy to battle its way through the pounding waves and reach the ship. Angus paced near the rail, his rugged face lined with worry as the men helped her aboard.

      He came to a stop just in front of her, reached out and touched her cheek. “So ye made it, did ye, lass?”

      Her eyes welled with tears as she thought of how near death she had come, how Ethan Sharpe had risked himself to save her.

      “Aye. The lad saved yer life. Coulda been the death o’ ye both.”

      She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the seas were still so rough or the decks quite so slippery.”

      “Ye need ta get out of those clothes,” Angus said, guiding her down the ladder to her cabin. She looked back for Ethan, saw him right behind her.

      “I’ll take care of her,” he said, following her into the room. “Send down a hot bath. She needs to get warmed up.”

      “And ye, as well, lad.”

      “Soon,” Ethan said. He closed the door and turned to face her.

      “I’m sorry,” Grace said again, tears burning.

      Instead of the anger she expected, he simply reached out and swept her into his arms.

      “Sweet God, Grace, I thought we’d lost you.”

      She clung to him, grateful for his warmth, the solid feel of his body, the steady beat of his heart, holding him as tightly as he was holding her. “I’m so sorry. Oh, Ethan, you could have been killed.”

      He tipped her chin up and saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Christ…” And then he was kissing her, taking possession of her mouth, and he crushed her against him. He molded his lips to hers, shaped them, tasted them, kissed her one way and then another, as heat washed over her. His tongue plunged in and fire seemed to scorch through her veins. She found herself clinging to his neck, kissing him back as wildly as he was kissing her.

      She told herself it was just that she was alive. That he was a man and she was a woman and they had survived death by inches. Whatever it was, heat and need swept over her, unlike anything she had known. He was tall but so was she, and they seemed to fit perfectly together. His chest was a hard wall pressing into her breasts and beneath her wet garments, her nipples tightened and began to throb.

      She felt light-headed, almost giddy, and her heart was racing, pounding so hard she wondered if he could hear. Her fingers slid into his wet black hair and she could feel its silky texture, the soft wisps curling against the nape of his neck.

      He kissed her and kissed her, and insane as it was, she didn’t want him to stop.

      “Dear God…Ethan…”

      A noise sounded and awareness began to sink in. Someone was knocking at the door. He turned, his blue eyes full of emotion. For a moment, she thought he might send them away.

      With his body heat gone, she began to shiver. Cursing, he walked over to the door and pulled it open.

      “The lady’s bath,” one of the crewmen said.

      He flicked her a glance, must have noticed how pale she was. “Set it in front of the hearth.”

      The two crewmen set the steaming tub on the carpet and quietly left the room. Ethan walked over to where she stood shivering and pulled the string on the front of her blouse. “The bath will warm you,” he said softly, and she thought of the first time that she had undressed with him in the room.

      He must have read her thoughts for he sighed. “All right, I’ll turn my back if it makes you feel better.”

      Her fingers were cold and clumsy. When she didn’t manage to undress fast enough, he walked over to where she stood, caught the hem of the blouse and pulled it off over her head, leaving her in only the skirt and her wet lawn chemise. She covered her breasts as he unfastened the button at the waist of the skirt and slid the clinging fabric down over her hips, leaving her in a garment so transparent he could see right through it, so short it barely covered her bottom.

      His eyes were dark and hot. She had always thought them pale and glacial, but there was nothing cold about them now.

      “I would advise you to get into that tub before I do what I am thinking.”

      With his breeches wet and plastered to his body, she couldn’t miss the thick ridge that marked his desire. Cheeks flushed from more than just embarrassment, she climbed into the water quickly, leaving the chemise in place even after she was seated in the tub.

      She looked up to see Ethan pulling fresh garments out of his wardrobe. He strode toward the door with the clothing draped over his arm. “If I had my way, I would lift you out of that tub and carry you over to the bed. I wouldn’t leave you until morning. But you have had a very bad experience and you need to rest. Sleep for a while and once you are feeling better, perhaps you will join me for supper.”

      She looked up at him from the tub. She could still feel the lean strength of his body, taste his mouth as it moved over hers. He wanted her. He had made the fact no secret. She should be frightened. Somehow she was not.

      “I would like that very much.”

      Ethan seemed pleased. He made a slight bow and quit the room. Grace sat in the tub till the water turned cold, trying to understand what had just happened.

      He was standing in the passageway, freshly bathed, his hair clean and neatly combed, when Grace answered his knock several hours later and opened the cabin door.

      His eyes ran over her, taking in the sapphire gown she had altered to fit her, making it look almost respectable, though even with the black lace fichu, the bodice was extremely low. The gown was high-waisted, with an edge of black lace beneath her breasts and a slender skirt slit modestly up the side, thanks to her handiwork.

      “You look lovely. I don’t believe the dresses were a waste after all.”

      She felt the pull of a smile. “Perhaps not. Thank you for the compliment.” She had washed and dried her hair but the fire was out, though the storm was beginning to lessen, and the strands were still slightly damp. She had used the mother-of-pearl inlaid combs she had been wearing the night she had been taken from the Lady Anne to sweep the heavy mass up into curls atop her head, and his gaze lingered there before moving back to her face.

      “I usually dine in the salon.” He offered his arm and Grace rested her hand on the sleeve of his navy blue tailcoat. “Tonight, Cook has gone to extra trouble in honor of my guest.”

      He was dressed as a gentleman, a white stock perfectly tied beneath his lean jaw, an expensively tailored coat fitted perfectly to his broad shoulders. His waistcoat gleamed with faint silver threads, and snug black breeches outlined his long legs and flat belly. He was incredibly handsome and yet he still looked every inch the pirate that he was.

      A little shiver of awareness went through her as he settled a hand at her waist and led her toward the ladder leading up on deck. She had never been invited into the formal salon, a room that seemed to belong solely to him.

      She СКАЧАТЬ