Stolen Pleasures(2)
Author: Sylvia Day

that seared her senses.

"Wait!" she cried. Unreasonably, she didn’t want to be left alone. His crew was a coarse lot. They’d pinched and groped her, tugged at her hair, and ruined her gown. Intrepid she might be, but a glutton for punishment she was not. "You cannot leave me here alone!"

Phoenix paused on the threshold, his features softening. "No one will come into this cabin without my permission. You’ll be safe here."

She shook her head in denial. Her hands began to shake as they clutched his shirt against her chest, the garment still warm from his body and scented of his skin.

"Don’t leave me."

"I must go," he replied gently. "I have to give orders to my crew, secure your ship, and locate your belongings." He frowned. "Where is the proxy?"

"It was returned to England with the solicitor immediately after the signing."

"Who signed for me?"

Olivia started at his angry tone, and the first seeds of doubt entered her mind.

"Lord Dunsmore," she answered softly.

His eyes narrowed. "And you didn’t find it odd that your husband didn’t come for you himself? You never wondered why he was unable, or unwilling, to at least sign the proxy even if he couldn’t be bothered to marry you properly?"

Her bottom lip quivered at his sudden vehemence, and she bit it to hide the betraying movement. But Phoenix was too perceptive. With a muttered oath, he came back to her. His thumb brushed across her mouth, freeing her lip from her teeth. His gaze remained anchored to the spot where he had touched her. Olivia couldn’t breathe. Her lip burned.

"You are a beautiful and desirable woman," he murmured. "Why settle for marriage with a man sight unseen?"

"I’d hardly call marrying a marquess ‘settling,’" she whispered against his thumb.

He stiffened, and dropped his hand from her. "For the title, then."

Olivia shook her head. The title was important to her father. All she’d ever wanted in a marriage was passion, like her parents were reputed to have had. "It was my father’s wish that I marry Lord Merrick. I could not defy him."

She was all that her father had. To disappoint him or sadden him was more than she could bear.

Phoenix searched her face for a long moment. Then he turned and left the cabin without another word, taking with him all of the crackling energy he exuded.

Sebastian assessed the blessedly minor damage to his father-in-law’s ship and cursed his father for putting him in this predicament. He leaned against the railing and closed his eyes as the salty breeze ruffled his hair.

The sea had been his demanding and quick-tempered mistress for five years now. Disregarding his past, she had welcomed him with open arms. She had soothed the hurts that had caused him to flee his home and had given him an existence as distant as possible from the one that had pained him. Now a new life had been created for him without his knowledge or consent. Miserable as he was to admit it, Sebastian had no doubt Olivia was telling the truth.

What exactly the marquess had intended by marrying him off he couldn’t fathom. He hadn’t been in touch with any member of his family in years. What had they planned to tell the poor girl when she arrived and found her husband missing?

He snorted. "Girl" was incorrect. Olivia Merrick was all woman. His woman.

His wife.

Hell and damnation.

Sebastian kicked aside an abandoned sword and cursed so foully that all the men on deck looked his way.

For all intents and purposes, he was married. To the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and the daughter of Jack Lambert, one of the richest merchants in the world. If marriage had been a goal of his, he’d have been pleased. But he didn’t want to be married. He had no desire to return to England and assume the role that should rightfully have gone to his brother, Edmund.

"Phoenix."

Sebastian turned to face Will, his first mate, a burly man whose enormous physique contrasted sharply with his harmless-sounding name. "What is it?" he asked curtly.

"We found ‘er ladyship’s things." Will’s bushy mustache twitched. "I’ve never seen the like. A bed, and bath, and fresh water stored for the use of it. But when we tried to take ‘er trunks into yer cabin, she damn near shot Red’s ‘ead off."

" Shot him?"

"Aye, wiv yer pistol."

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ward off a headache. Damned vixen, he thought, but a reluctant smile curled his mouth nevertheless. Olivia had fire and spirit—qualities he admired in his bed partners.

Good God! Horrified, he shook the thought right out of his head. No. He was not going to even think about bedding her. Bedding her meant keeping her, and he sure as hell wasn’t keeping her. She deserved better than a pirate.

"I shall see to her," he grumbled. "Have the men begin repairs to her ship. I want to return Lady Merrick to her father posthaste."

He was briefly surprised at how easily he used his title to refer to her, and then Sylvia Day – Bad Boys Ahoy!

hastily shoved the thought away.

"Aye, Captain." Will’s laughter followed him below deck.

Sebastian rapped on his cabin door. "My lady? ‘Tis I. I’m coming in." He entered cautiously, peeking his head around the door and searching out her shapely form.

He found Olivia sitting at his desk, drowning in his shirt, leveling a pistol at his chest. The mere sight of her made him ache. Golden and determined, she was a tigress.

"Do you know what you’re doing with that?" he asked.

"Yes, of course."

He kicked the door shut behind him and headed toward the sideboard for a much-needed libation. Her gaze burned into his back, causing him to smile. "Care for a brandy, sweet wife?"

"Is there any proof you are my husband?" she asked curtly.

"Is there any proof you’re my wife?" he retorted, pouring her a glass of the deep red liquid with the hope that it would soothe her ill humor.

"The ring…"

Sebastian held his hand over his shoulder and waggled his ringed finger at her.

She snorted.

"Who taught you the use of a pistol?" he queried as he warmed the liquor over a candle.

"The foreman on my father’s plantation."

When he turned to face her, he found his gun resting on the desk and Olivia staring pensively out the window. "Your father approved?"

"My father doesn’t know. I wanted to learn. There was no cause to distress him."

Withholding a smile, Sebastian moved toward her, admiring her elegant profile, Sylvia Day – Bad Boys Ahoy!

with its pert nose and obstinate chin. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and the thought of claiming that lush mouth with various parts of his body nearly made him hard. He set her brandy atop his nautical charts and propped his hip against the desk.

"What are you thinking, love?" he prodded gently.

She reached for the snifter without looking, and he pushed it into her hand. "That you should put on a shirt."

"I’m quite comfortable, but I’m touched by your wifely concern."

In the midst of a large swallow, Olivia choked. He thumped her back until she waved him off. "I’m fine!" she gasped. Wiping the tears from her lashes, she glared at him. "What are your intentions, Phoenix?"

Sebastian reached over slowly, giving her time to draw away. She didn’t. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered wildly as he rubbed the cuff of his shirt, brushing the edge of his finger deliberately along her bared wrist. He felt her shiver and hid his satisfaction. The attraction, it appeared, was mutual.

"The men have begun the necessary repairs to your ship. It should be seaworthy again within a sennight, at which time we’ll head to the nearest port. I will leave my ship and travel with you to England. We shall arrive on British soil, seek out our parents, and unravel this debacle. Then we can obtain an annulment and part ways."

"Oh… I see." Olivia looked out the window again.

Sebastian sat tensely at her silence.

"What if I don’t wish to have the marriage annulled?" she queried finally.

His eyebrows shot up. "You wish to be married to a wanted criminal?"

Her brief side-glance was intriguing and arousing, showing a surprising lack of Sylvia Day – Bad Boys Ahoy!

fear. By all rights she should be terrified, yet she appeared completely at ease.

She swirled the rest of the brandy in the snifter, watching the play of light with undue attention. "Lord Merrick is not a wanted man."

"Do you believe I am Merrick?"

Olivia shrugged. "I’m reserving judgment at the moment."

He downed his brandy and then moved to the hammock that hung across the corner. Hopping in, Sebastian settled his hands behind his head. "You appear quite comfortable for a woman in the bedchamber of a pirate."

She blew a loose lock of hair off her face. When it fell right back into its previous annoying place, she reached up and freed the entire glorious mass. His body hardened instantly. Olivia Merrick was stunning, a siren.

"I don’t appear to have much choice in the matter, and so far you have deported yourself much better than the men under your charge."

"I apologize for your mistreatment," he said, watching her plait her waist-length hair. He’d never observed the act before and was startled to realize he enjoyed the intimacy of it. "It will never happen again."