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The Infamous Rogue Part 22

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The heat in his bones and muscles returned. The pulsing pressure in his limbs surged.

He was wrapped between her skirts, her legs. Trapped. It felt so b.l.o.o.d.y good.

He looked into her eyes, heart pounding. Such bewitching eyes. Even in the shadows, she snared his senses with that wicked look. The fire that burned in the dark brown pools scorched him, filled him with deep desire.

"What do you want from me?" she said, lips flushed.

He pressed his brow against hers, wet and hot. "You came looking for me, remember?"



"d.a.m.n you, James! What do you want? One last f.u.c.k good-bye? Take it! Take me! And then get the h.e.l.l out of my life. I don't want to see you ever again!"

He gnashed his teeth at the brutal a.s.sault. She had used his name. She had said it after seven b.l.o.o.d.y years-only to dismiss him again, to cast him aside like soiled laundry.

James let go of her wrists and lifted to his feet. He fastened his trousers. Blood filled his head, making him dizzy; his hip still ached. "Get out."

She struggled to her feet as wel . "Not before we finish this."

"I said get out!"

"No!"

He pressed his nose against hers. "This s.h.i.+p is about to set sail."

"Not for another hour. I heard Wil iam."

She was stil wearing the same dress she had sported at the opera. It was a deep umber brown with a sweeping decolletage trimmed with lace. Another garish jewel marred her seamless bustline, an amber stone sheathed in gold. So fake. She looked ridiculous. He spotted her thick hair, the dark locks mussed after their heated roll across the floor. That was Sophia. Free. Wild. He ached for that spirited woman. He cursed her, too.

He still gasped for breath. "You were spying on me?"

"Eavesdropping."

"What's the difference?"

"I'm not going to report the conversation...unless you stay away from me."

"You witch." He chuckled darkly. "Is that why you're here? To make more threats? I thought you didn't flout convention anymore. What would the harridan think to know you were standing here?"

She was winded, too. "I'll see you hang, Black Hawk."

His nostrils flared. He was Black Hawk again, was he? "Not before I see you disgraced, sweetheart."

She fisted her palms. The veins that stretched from her fingers to her throat throbbed.

"You're determined to ruin me anyway."

"The h.e.l.l I am."

"That's what you wanted to do at the opera, isn't it?"

"Ruin you?"

"Torture me!"

He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her against the wall. "You torture yourself, sweetheart."

"I hate you."

The muscles in his cheek twitched. "I know."

She pounded against his chest. "Leave me alone!"

"The way you left Imogen alone?"

She stilled, weakened. She drew in a deep breath of air. He heard it pa.s.s through her nose. "I couldn't help her."

"Liar!"

She flinched. "What could I do?"

"You and the harridan, that idiot and his sister could have saved her."

"How?"

"You could have gathered around her. The four of you could have stood beside her and killed the rumors."

Fat tears fil ed her eyes. "It was impossible. She was ruined."

"Horses.h.i.+t! If respectable members of society band together, the gossip ends. If n.o.ble lords and ladies a.s.sociate with the girl, then others will a.s.sociate with her, too."

"No."

"Yes! This is my world, Sophia. I know rumors can be squelched if enough people refuse to listen to them."

"I didn't know."

"No. No!" He let her go and walked away from her, his temples throbbing. "You didn't want to help her."

"She's my friend."

"Poor Imogen," he sneered. "Cursed with friends like you and your b.l.o.o.d.y fiance."

"He's not my fiance-yet."

She still wanted the saphead? Of course she did. She wanted him because he was a saphead. He was too daft to see past her frilly wardrobe and fancy jewels. The woman wanted to be a countess. And she needed a foolish lord to wed her.

"I want you to stay away from me, Black Hawk."

"Why? Do I upset you? Do I make you look at yourself; see yourself for who you really are? Does it disgust you?"

"You disgust me!"

He crossed the cabin again. He cupped her cheeks. "You and I are the same, sweetheart."

The woman's eyes widened.

It's true. You and I are one.

She clasped his wrists and tugged at them. She stepped away from him. "Will you promise to keep away from me?"

"No." He combed his fingers through his hair, disheveled. He pulled the leather cord away, let the locks fall free. "I've already vowed not to betray our past. If you want something more from me, you can take out the ivory and jade players and as soon as I return to sh.o.r.e. Now get off my s.h.i.+p."

She stared at him. He sensed her eyes drop and caress his naked belly, his ribs before she slowly lifted them again. "I hope you drown."

She crouched. She searched the shadows for her knife, he presumed.

James was hot and hard. The hairs on his arms, his chest stirred. She had stabbed him, cut him with her eyes. But she had ravished him, too. Heat pumped through his veins at her sultry admiration.

"I hope lightning strikes the rig," she griped.

She brandished her plump a.r.s.e as she groped in the darkness. He stiffened even more.

"There's no storm."

"A storm is coming."

"And how would you know that? Did you cast a spell, witch?"

She snorted. "Are you daft? Can't you feel the rough waves?"

"What rough waves?"

But the s.h.i.+p was s.h.i.+fting with more vim. James crossed the room and looked out the scuttle-the port lights flickered in the distance. "s.h.i.+t."

She had found the knife. She dusted the luminous blade, winking in the moonlight, before she slipped it back into the sheath between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "What's the matter?"

"We're at sea."

She balked. "No."

She skirted across the cabin, shoved him aside and peered out the gla.s.s. "d.a.m.n you, Black Hawk!"

He growled, "I told you to get off the s.h.i.+p."

"But Wil iam said-"

"I know what William said." He swiped the s.h.i.+rt off the floor. "Wait here."

James slipped the white linen over his head and stalked the corridor. He ascended the steps. Once topside, he searched the deck for his brother.

"Lieutenant!"

A dark figure stirred. "Aye, Captain."

James eyed the shadow and headed for the helm. He dismissed the quartermaster.

William took control of the vessel then.

"What the h.e.l.l are we doing at sea, Lieutenant?"

William maneuvered the wheel. "Are you stil in a foul mood? I told Cora to bed you wel ."

James fisted his palms. "I don't need you to tell me who to f.u.c.k...now answer me!"

William shrugged. "I gave the order to weigh anchor."

"You gave the order?"

"I've given orders before. I'm the lieutenant, remember?"

"You can give orders when I'm dead."

"Or incapacitated." William looked at him with reproach. "You've been distracted lately. Cora was supposed to help you focus again, but once she'd left the s.h.i.+p there was no reason to delay our departure. I gave the order to set sail."

"There was no queue?"

"I wanted to give you some time with the wench." He sighed. "Why didn't you spend the whole hour with her?"

"She's still belowdecks."

"The devil she is; I saw her skirt off."

"Not Cora."

"Then who?"

James hissed, "Sophia."

William also lowered his voice. "What is she doing here?"

"Never mind," he growled. "Head back for port."

"No."

James bristled. "What?"

"We're on a mission, Captain. If we come and go from port al night, the impostors will think something is amiss and won't follow us."

"She can't stay here!"

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