Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!

"He must have loved you very much."

"Edmund loved the title," Sebastian scoffed.

Olivia met his intense gaze without flinching. "What happened?"

He longed to make some flip, roguish, or snide comment to deflect her prying. He wanted to sneer at her and cut her, scare her, and push her away. But his next words would do the deed just as well. "I foolishly compromised a young lady. When her older brother came to me and demanded that I marry the chit, I refused. She was no innocent, as I knew firsthand. And the way we were caught left no doubt in my mind that I'd been snared in a trap."

Her hand flew to her mouth, and his own mouth curved derisively. "Instead of demanding satisfaction from me, her brother approached Edmund, whose damned sense of honor prevented him from refusing. I learned of the duel only after it was over. My father woke me from my bed with the news." He didn't even attempt to hide the bitter edge that crept into his voice. "I was foxed and debauched when he shouted the congratulations at me, as if I'd planned Edmund's demise." He closed his eyes. "Edmund was groomed for his place. I, on the other hand…" His voice trailed off.

Why was he telling her these things? The words falling from his mouth had never left his lips before.

"You, on the other hand, are too wild and untamed for such a station," Olivia finished.

Sebastian opened his eyes to find her facing the window, allowing him a modicum of privacy to collect himself. He moved to stand behind her, close enough so that his breath stirred the strands of hair at her crown and her evocative scent fired his blood. His hands clenched into fists.

"I'd wager you were a wild child," she continued, her honeyed voice pouring down his spine, hardening his cock. "You most likely could not bear to sit through your lessons, got dirty regularly, kissed girls you had no business kissing, and defied your father at every turn just to spite him for having such a perfect firstborn-a sibling you could never hope to measure up to."

Stunned at her perceptiveness, Sebastian stared sightlessly out the window.

"Am I close?" she asked.

"Too close," he admitted gruffly. "How did this conversation progress so rapidly to the deeply personal?"

"Your remarkable eyes betray the ruthlessness of your nature and your restlessness. I've been pondering what circumstance could possibly have driven you to this life you live." She turned to face him. "Did your father tell you how sorry he was that it was not you who had died instead of Edmund?"

His breath hissed out through clenched teeth. Olivia looked through him, into him, seeing things she had no right to see. Her eyes filled with a sympathy he didn't want, damn her. Lust, yes. Passion, admiration-he wanted all of those from her. But pity…

His teeth ground together until his jaw ached.

"So you are determined," she continued, flaying him with her words, "to prove to him and anyone else paying attention that he was indeed correct and you are a worthless 'spare' for his heir. Being the man you are, you can do nothing half-measure. No, you had to rebel in the worst possible manner. Perhaps you've even hoped to be caught in the midst of your misdeeds. Then your father's humiliation would be complete. Why else would you wear the signet ring that betrays you?"

He longed to smash something, to tear something apart. Furious, torn open by her censure, Sebastian grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to him. His voice came low and full of scorn. "Your words reveal the astonishing depths of your naivete."

Her lovely face flushed at his disparagement. "I have given you no reason to be cruel."

"Perhaps I am always cruel," he jeered, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her upper arms. "You know nothing of the man I am."

Her chin lifted, her eyes sparked with anger. "Unhand me, Phoenix. Now."

He pulled her closer. "What would you know of rebellion?" he growled. "You, the dutiful daughter, marrying a man sight unseen to please your father. I'd wager you've never rebelled in your life!"

"I have!" she yelled, shaking with fury. Her lips, red and moist, parted with her rapid breathing.

He arched a disbelieving brow, his entire body hard with anger and fierce desire. "When?"

"Right now." And then she yanked his head down and mashed her lips to his.

He wasn't kissing her back.

Olivia noted that fact immediately, but her stubbornness would not allow her to desist, even though her pride begged her to cease her foolishness.

"Kiss me, damn you!"

He'd caused this fever in her blood with his half-dressed state and fierce eyes. Phoenix was driving her mad, drawing her to him while pushing her away.

"Don't swear!" he muttered.

And then his arms came around her, and his mouth moved hungrily over her own. His tongue swept across her lips, teasing, urging. He tasted like brandy and wicked things, and her core throbbed in response. Her lips parted in a breathless gasp, and he took the invitation to slip inside. His tongue sought out hers, brushed across it and under it, finding sensitive nerve endings and stroking them with velvety licks.

Oh. Dear. Heaven. The man knew how to kiss. Her toes were curling in her slippers.

Angry and possessive, hungry and bold, Phoenix took over her senses with blatant skill. Unable to resist, she surged into him, wanting more. More of him.

"Steady," he murmured, securing her body against his strength, his large hand moving to her neck and tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder, keeping her still for the ravishment of his mouth.

Olivia moaned when his other hand slipped beneath his shirt and found the curve of her breast, wrapping around the underside, testing its weight. His thumb caressed in gentle strokes, teasing her. Over and over Phoenix circled the straining peak, causing sparks of pleasure to radiate outward and down to the place between her legs.

Oh, why wouldn't he touch her where she ached?

"Touch me." She grabbed his wrist and thrust her hardened nipple into his palm. "Here." She moaned as her body melted. "Oh, God… touch me everywhere."

"Olivia." His kiss lost its faint trace of gentleness. He devoured her, his tongue thrusting rhythmically into her mouth, his fingers plucking and twisting, pulling on her nipple, until she wept from her core. Olivia ached all over. Her skin was too tight, too hot. She wanted to rip her clothes from her body and press her nakedness to his. Instead she caressed his skin, squeezing the bone and sinew beneath, relishing the way his body shuddered against hers.

Lord, he smelled heavenly, like the wind and the sea, passion and pure male. When the knock came at the door, she didn't even register it until Phoenix pulled away.

"What is it?" he called hoarsely, one hand still working at her breast while the other pressed her heated face into his throat.

"Captain, we're 'aving problems wiv the other crew," Will bellowed through the closed portal.

Phoenix growled his frustration. "I'll be on deck in a moment."

Heavy footsteps moved away from the door.

"No…" she protested, lost in the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the taste of his mouth. She would give anything for a respite from the madness that claimed her and knew instinctively that he was the cure.

He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips. "I must go, sweeting, while I'm still able."

"No." She tugged his neck toward her open mouth, and at first he resisted, then he crushed her against him, tight enough to feel the heat and hardness of his desire through her skirts. Olivia kissed him desperately, wantonly, hoping to make him as mindless with need as she was.

Phoenix thrust her away with a curse. "You're flirting with the devil," he bit out. "Cease, before you get burned."

She winced as the door slammed shut behind him.

Olivia wasn't certain how much time had passed, but the sun had moved steadily across the sky and she knew the day was close to ending. The wind had picked up, pushing a welcome breeze into the cabin, cooling the air and her blood. Mortified by remembrances of her earlier behavior, her face heated and she squirmed in her seat.

What in God's name was the matter with her? She'd never in her life kissed a man, let alone touched him or begged him to touch her. And Captain Phoenix of all people! A man reputed to be as dangerous and deadly as a viper. Why didn't she fear him? Why did she wish to bare herself to his gaze and open her body to whatever he desired?

A knock sounded, and she moved quickly to the desk, collecting the pistol. "Yes?" she shouted, her heart racing. Had Phoenix returned?

The door opened. "'Tis Maggie, milady," her abigail called.

Olivia released a sigh of mixed relief and disappointment. The young servant entered, followed by three sailors. Two of the men hefted yokes with steaming buckets, and the third held her small hip bath. They poured the hot water and then brought in her trunks. Shooting wary glances at the pistol, the pirates departed the room with haste, and Maggie shut the door behind them.

"Are you well?" Olivia asked with concern, wondering how the young girl had fared in the company of Phoenix's men.

"Um?" Maggie hummed distractedly as she stepped over to Olivia's trunks and began to sort through her clothing. "Oh, yes. Quite well. His lordship made certain of it."

The abigail came to her and easily tugged the huge shirt over her head. When the sleeve caught on the gun, Olivia set the weapon on a trunk and laid the shirt next to it. She missed the garment immediately, infused as it was with the scent of Phoenix's skin.

Maggie began to loosen the fastenings to her gown.

Looking over her shoulder, Olivia asked, "What if he should return?"

The maid chuckled. "Little chance of that happening. He's fixing the main mast."

"What?" Olivia shot a worried glance out the window. The wind continued to pick up speed. "Why didn't he delegate the task?"

"He said it was too dangerous with the wind blowing like it is."

"Good God!" Olivia headed toward the door. He could be killed. And for some odd reason, she couldn't bear to think of it.

"Milady! You cannot go out there now. Your gown…"

Olivia clutched her bodice and ran from the room. When she gained the deck, she looked up at the sky in horror. Still bare-chested, Phoenix clung to the mast, his powerful muscles bunched with exertion, his silky hair blown loose from its queue and whipping around his face. From her vantage, his large form seemed tiny, and yet he appeared at home in the turbulence. His movements were sure and efficient as he struggled against the gales, no fear evident in the expertise of his actions. In fact, no one around her seemed even remotely fearful. Her heart, however, beat a panicked rhythm, ready to burst from her chest.

She sensed the large presence that moved up to her side, and turned to look at the red-haired man she'd nearly shot earlier.

"Ye shouldn't be up 'ere on the deck," he grumbled. "The men can't 'elp but ogle ye, and the captain won't be liking that at all."

"I tried to tell her," Maggie muttered as she came up behind them.

"What the devil is he doing?" Olivia cried, loose hair from her plait blowing around her face until she could barely see. "Can't the repair wait until the wind dies down?"

Red shrugged. "Surely. But 'e was already up there, so 'e might as well finish."

As the wind whipped by again, she returned her gaze to Phoenix. She screamed as he lost his grip and was blown free, his body dangling precariously by the rigging. He was suspended there as the wind flew by, and then his hold began to slip. Unable to watch, Olivia turned to Red and buried her face in his chest, her fists clutching handfuls of his filthy shirt. No one could long survive being battered against the mast like a flag.

"Damned stupid fool!" she cried into the pirate's chest as the men on deck scrambled into action.

It was unreasonable, this horrid fear that clawed at her vitals and tortured her mind. Phoenix was a stranger of only hours' acquaintance. But they'd been intimate. He'd touched her in ways she'd never touched herself. He'd made her feel reckless and wild. She'd felt alive-

Warm hands gripped her shoulders and turned her, pressing her face into salt-flavored bare skin. "Hush, love," Phoenix's deep voice purred in her ear, his warm breath fanning across her neck, his hair blowing around them.

Olivia sank into him with relief. Her fingers clawed at his back, pulling him closer. "You bloody idiot!" she scolded.