Forgetting the Scot Page 19

  He closed his eyes and pictured her. Virginia’s long honey-colored hair freed from its braid, spread across her pillow, twined in his hand… him sliding in and out of her slick heat, gazing down at her oval face, her sun-kissed cheeks, her green and brown eyes with lids half closed, rosy lips parted, repeating his name over and over. Magnus. Magnus.

  “Magnus!”

  “Huh?” He jerked his head up.

  “Your watch is over,” Ian said. “Get some sleep.”

  “Thanks.” He left Ian and went to his cabin where he washed well. Virginia deserved a clean man in her bed. He changed his shirt and trousers. No boots. His boots made noise. He crept up the stairs and slipped silently across the deck toward the fo’c’sle. Ian stepped out of the shadows and into his path. Damn.

  He held back his temper—just—and kept his voice low. “Let me by, man.”

  “Nae.”

  “By my oath, I love you, cousin, but I will not be diverted from my course this night. Let me by or draw your sword.”

  “You would force yourself on her?”

  “I was invited.”

  Ian stood so still in the dark, Magnus could almost hear his cousin think. At last, Ian whispered an angry warning. “Dinnae leave her with the consequences of your…appetite. Do you understand my meaning, cousin?”

  He resisted the impulse to punch Ian in the throat, but his cousin was right. If he left Virginia with child, her life would be forfeit. He needed to maintain control or risk disaster.

  He took a breath and let the tension in his body ease. “Aye. I understand your meaning. Perfectly. And thank you.”

  …

  Dressed only in her shift, Virginia removed her spectacles, placed them on a ledge next to her berth, and turned the lamplight low. She sat on the edge of the mattress and waited. She waited like a bride on her wedding night, trembling with doubts and fears. Would she please him? Would she be enough for him? She was no virgin, yet this night, these precious few hours, would be all new for her. For the first time, she would be loved, truly loved, by a man who desired her.

  Any other woman would think her mad. Perhaps she had lost the part of her mind that ruled her common sense. She’d invited a man who was not her husband to her bed. Not just any man. She’d asked the man she loved. Her big, beautiful champion. Magnus.

  What have I to lose?

  Her reputation? She was already ruined simply by having survived the ordeal on the pirate ship. Even if she returned to Society, she’d always remain sullied in the minds of others.

  What have I to lose?

  Her heart? It was already lost. There was no point pretending she wasn’t in love with Magnus. No point protecting her feelings or trying to guard against the pain she would feel when they separated.

  What have I to lose?

  Nothing. The answer was nothing. She had nothing to lose. Oh, she had no doubt she would pay for loving Magnus just as Magnus would be held accountable for defying Laird John when he returned to Balforss. Her heart would break when they parted, but the pain wouldn’t be any greater having made love, would it?

  One night. One night of love to last her a lifetime.

  For one night, she would know his body, his heat, his touch. She would memorize his voice, the smell of his skin, the feel of him inside her, and the look on his face when he released. And afterward, when she returned to London to do what she had set out to do, the knowledge that he had loved her, even just the once, would give her courage. From her new perspective, Magnus was giving her more than love. He was giving her the strength to save others.

  The deep rumble of Magnus’s voice outside her door made her body come alive. He was here as he had promised. She shouldn’t be surprised—he’d never denied her anything—and yet her belly quivered with excitement. She had shocked and aroused him with her request. It was a thrilling, powerful feeling to be able to kindle a man’s passion—a feeling she wanted to experience again.

  Before she could think twice, she opened the door to him. He ducked his head and stepped sideways through the cabin door, eyes locked on her, his left arm slipping around her waist and drawing her against him even before he shut and latched the door with a delicious click.

  The smell of his freshly washed body struck her as squarely as his rock-solid chest. He just held her there for a moment, her toes barely touching the floor, his heart thumping hard in time with her own.

  “Are you sure, love?” The rumble of his voice buzzed through her body.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Love me.” She traced her lips up the side of his neck and kissed him below his ear. “Make love to me. Show me. Show me everything. I want it all.”

  He covered her mouth with a long, possessive kiss. Mine, he seemed to say. Mine, all mine.

  Her answer was fast and fierce. I am yours. Take what you want.

  He broke the kiss, breath roaring in her ear, pressing his hardened part to where her thighs met. She tugged his shirttails from his trousers. Understanding her need, he released her to yank his shirt over his head and toss it down. He stood before her, filling the cabin with his body like some Greek colossus.

  His was the most beautiful body she’d ever seen—broad, muscular, covered with a silky pelt of chest hair. She pressed her palms against his hard belly and smoothed them upward, over his chest, letting her thumbnails nick his nipples. “You’re so big and hard and…I can’t stop touching you.”

  He sucked in air through his teeth. “Jeeesus, woman,” he breathed out. “Lift your arms.” She did and he swept off her shift. She watched his face carefully. Did he like what he saw? Would he find her smallish breasts disappointing?

  Magnus maneuvered her around in the tight quarters so that the front of her body was bathed in the light from the oil lamp. She tensed when he cupped her breasts in his rough hands. The corners of his mouth drew up slightly.

  “Flawless,” he whispered.

  He loosened her braid and spread her long hair about her shoulders until he was happy with the arrangement. “I cannae find words to tell you how beautiful you are.”

  “You just did.” Joy chased away all her doubts and fears. She exhaled a pleasure-filled sigh when her breasts made contact with the silky warmth of his hard chest. In turn, he made a deep, gravelly groan when he palmed her bottom in both hands.

  “Kiss me again,” she begged.

  He covered her mouth with another kiss more tender than the first but no less explicit. He grasped hold of her hips and gently pushed her down until she was seated on the edge of her berth. Faced with the buttons on his trousers, she reached to open his fall, but he brushed aside her hands and knelt between her legs.

  “What?” What does he want of me?

  “Let me worship you, love.”

  Her sex tightened at his heated words.

  He trailed kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and down her chest to her left nipple. He licked and sucked and nibbled. No one had ever touched her this way, as though her body was precious. He pressed her shoulders down until she lay back on the mattress, and trailed kisses down her belly lower and lower. What was he doing?

  She sat up suddenly and gasped, “Magnus?”

  He lifted his head from her curls and smiled dreamily at her. “Easy, love. Trust me.” He rubbed her flank as though calming a skittish horse. “I’m going to give you every pleasure I know.” He pulled her face to his and kissed her on the mouth again, sweet but thorough. “Lie back, close your eyes, and dinnae cry out or you’ll bring the whole crew down upon us.”

  Virginia did as he commanded and stuffed a fistful of sheet into her mouth to stifle her love cries while he licked and stroked and coaxed her into a frenzy. The shimmering, white ecstasy he effortlessly teased from her most secret parts threatened to overtake her reason. Could one go mad from loving? Over and over he brought her to the edge, allowing her a taste of what awaited on the other side, and then reeled her back from the brink only to repeat the rhapsodic torture. At last, when she coul
d stand no more, she quietly begged for him to finish her.

  “That’s it, love. Come to me now,” he whispered.

  He swirled his thumb in an ever-tightening circle, increasing the speed to match her urgent panting until her body sparkled with a joy unlike anything she’d ever felt. Yes. This. This is what making love is.

  He laid kisses on her thighs for the few minutes it took for her to fully recover.

  “Lie with me,” she said, sleepily.

  He dropped his trousers and crawled naked onto the berth with her. They lay curled on their sides, her backside nestled in the curve of his body, his hardness tucked in the cleft of her bottom. They were quiet, breathing in unison, listening to the sails snap, the occasional bell, a muffled command, and always the swoosh of the ship cutting through water.

  She might have fallen asleep, but for how long she didn’t know. It was still dark when she woke. Magnus had shifted to his back with his knees bent up. The berth was too short for his long, muscular legs, which seemed to go on for miles. The oil in the lamp had burned out, but the tiny opening near the top of her cabin’s east wall allowed in some light. A moonbeam lanced across his middle illuminating his parts. He slept, or at least she thought he slept, yet his rod was stiff and shifted about as if it had a mind of its own, long and thick and perfectly straight. She couldn’t help herself. She had to touch it.

  Chapter Eight

  Six bells. Only an hour before his next watch. Magnus hadn’t slept. They had so little time alone and only these four hours together like this, naked, lying next to each other. While the lamp still burned, he watched her sleep, listened to her steady breathing, memorized her face, and studied the way her lips parted while she slept, as if she had surrendered completely, knowing she was safe with him. He convinced himself that she slept better in his arms and had only sweet dreams. Perhaps she even dreamed of him.

  An hour left. Should he wake her? Love her again? Bring her pleasure like he had before? He hardened at the thought. What he truly wanted was what he had denied himself earlier: to thrust inside her heat over and over until she cried out his name and he spent himself. God, he was a selfish bastard to imagine such a thing. Her husband had probably used her that way, and he didn’t want to be anything like that man.

  Virginia stirred, then shifted to her other side. It was still quite dark. Only a pale sliver of silver light fell across their bodies—in his case, it illuminated his cock twitching restlessly between his legs. She sat up, careful not to disturb him, and reached out a slender hand. Curious to know what she might do if she thought him unaware, he remained still until those silky fingers curved around his girth.

  “Oh God.” He groaned and arched into her palm.

  She laughed her bedroom laugh. “I woke you. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. I havenae finished with you, yet.”

  “Do you like being touched like this?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and hissed through his teeth. “Yes.”

  She made a little moan of satisfaction. “You sound like I’m torturing you.”

  “You are—I am—Oh Christ.”

  Virginia leaned over and covered his entreaties with a kiss, soft and wet and languid, then slung a leg over his torso, straddling his body. The minx planned to ride him.

  She rose up like a goddess above him. He slid his hands up her long thighs, over her belly, and cupped her perfect breasts. She sank down on his cock with one long, low gasp, or perhaps it was he who made the sound. He didn’t know, didn’t care. He was inside her, being swept into oblivion by the pace she set, her hips rocking and undulating.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said.

  “You,” she sighed.

  “I want to hear you say the words, speak your desire. I want you to ask for what you need.”

  A low rumbling chuckle rolled out of her. “You want encouragement from your partner?”

  “Oh, aye.”

  She switched her hips in a wicked circle, and he choked a groan. “Here,” she said, and drew his hand down to the spot between her thighs.

  “Say it, love. Tell me what you want.”

  “Touch me,” she whispered. “Like you did before. Touch me while you move inside me.”

  He slid his thumb to her cunny at the place of their joining, that place he knew would make her lose her reason. She leaned into his touch and gasped.

  “Faster. Harder. Yes. Oh, yes.” She rode him, rode him long and hard until he was lathered and spent. At the last, her head tipped back, and she chanted his name in time with the pulsing sensation that enveloped his cock. Forgetting his promise, he lost himself inside her, wanting—needing to plant his seed, to claim her. She belonged to him. Even though he may never hold her in his arms after this night, if she carried his child, she would be bound to him forever.

  Only after they recovered did the horror of what he’d done seize him by the bollocks. Bloody hell. What if his seed really had taken root? Dinnae leave her with the consequences of your appetite, Ian had said.

  She settled next to him on the berth, and he hugged her to his side. “When were your last courses?” he asked.

  She lifted her head. “What?”

  “I’m worried you might be breeding. When did you last bleed?”

  Virginia stroked his cheek. “There’s no need to worry.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.” Her words were laden with regret, as though not carrying his child was her greatest sadness. Perhaps her assurance saddened him as well, but given the chance, he would trade everything he had for a future with her, with or without children. Christ, he’d trade everything for one more night with her.

  That’s when he knew he’d already lost everything. For, without Virginia, there was nothing to go back to. Nothing waited for him at Balforss beyond a lifetime of emptiness. He’d sacrificed his soul when he violated the sixth commandment. He’d forfeited his honor by sleeping with another man’s wife. All he had left was this time with her. His only purpose in life had come down to one duty: to protect Virginia until he was certain she was safe. To protect her with his life, if he had to.

  He remembered his dream, the Romany woman’s prediction, Declan’s vision of his death. The knowledge should terrify him. Instead, it calmed him. A deep sense of serenity seeped into his chest. He would not have to experience the pain and loneliness of life without Virginia, for he would be dead soon. But he would take the Englishman with him. That was the only way to make certain she would be safe.

  “It’s nearly dawn. I need to go,” he said.

  Without a word, she rose up and swung her shapely legs over the side of the berth. Pre-dawn light slanted across her back and something caught his eye, a marking he hadn’t noticed last night: three dark dots each the width of his little finger grouped together on her right shoulder. Birthmarks? Scars? Burn marks?

  “Stop,” he said.

  Virginia froze. “What’s wrong?”

  “What are these?” he asked, running his fingers over the three spots.

  She answered with an evasive, “Nothing.”

  He sat up and turned her body into the light to get a better look. “They aren’t nothing,” he said, sharper than he had meant to be. “They look like burns.”

  “Don’t.”

  He cupped the back of her head and drew her face close to his. “Did he do this to you? Your husband. Did he punish you thus?” She closed her eyes. Why would she hide the truth from him? After everything, why couldn’t she trust him? “He did this to you, didn’t he? Tell me the truth.” She shook her head. “Look at me.”

  She pulled free. “You must promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  It was still too dark in the cabin to see her face. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “No. No you can’t. You must promise me you won’t kill Langley. If you do, they’ll hang you. They won’t care whether he’s guilty of trying to have me killed. I can bear anything, but I couldn’t bear to see
you die. Please promise me.”

  “I cannae promise that, love. Dinnae ask me. I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm you, no matter the consequence. I’ve vowed to keep you safe, and I will fulfill that promise.”

  “You said you would do anything I asked. That’s what you promised. I’m asking you not to kill him.”

  She didn’t understand. If he didn’t kill Langley, Langley would kill him, and then there was no one to keep Virginia safe from the man. He let his forehead drop to her shoulder. “I cannae give you back to him.”

  “You don’t have to.” Virginia climbed out of the berth, collected her shift from the floor, and struggled into it.

  He waited for an explanation, but she continued to dress. “Virginia, what do you mean?”

  She pulled the front laces of her corset tight and tied them. “You already know my plan. I’m going to my father’s townhouse in London in secret. No one will know I’m there but my aunt, and I can trust my servants not to talk.” Virginia stopped fastening the multitude of tapes and hooks on her gown and sat back down next to him. “Snowdon told me Langley had my life insured and has already collected on it, which serves to strengthen my case. If he doesn’t give me back my trust money voluntarily, I’ll threaten to reveal myself to the world. He’s far more likely to go to jail over insurance fraud than for attempting to have me killed.”

  “How long do you think you can remain in hiding before Langley finds you and tries to end your life?”

  “He can’t touch me so long as my solicitors can testify that I’m alive and well. As soon as we return, Mr. Snowdon will draft my ultimatum. I will build that home, Magnus. I must. I truly believe my purpose on this earth is to rescue motherless children.”

  “You still intend to give your money away?”

  “I’m not, as you say, giving my money away. I’m saving children.”