'It wasn't Pagan.'
'Are you absolutely certain, Nathan? No one knows what the villain looks like. Perhaps it was Pagan, and you just didn't realize it because he didn't give you his true name.'
He let her see his exasperation. 'I know who did it.'
'Will you tell me who it was, then?'
'Why?'
'So I can hate him.'
His anger vanished. Such loyalty stunned him. 'No, I won't tell you who it was.'
'But it wasn't Pagan.'
She could drive a man to drink, Nathan thought to himself. 'No,' he answered once again.
'Nathan, you don't have to shout at me.'
He turned his back on her in dismissal. Jimbo moved away from the wheel. Sara waited until she and her husband were all alone and then moved closer.
He felt the touch of her fingertips on the top of his right shoulder. He didn't move. The feathery light caress down his back was incredibly gentle, and provocative, too. He couldn't ignore it, or the strange feelings her touch evoked.
'I wouldn't have poked you in your back last night if I'd known about your injury,' she whispered. 'But I couldn't see in the dark, and I didn't… know.'
'For God's sake, woman, it doesn't hurt now. It happened years ago.'
His abrupt tone startled her. Her hand dropped back to her side. She moved over to stand beside him. Her arm touched his. She looked up at his face and simply waited for him to look at her again. His expression could have been chiseled in stone, she thought to herself. He looked just the way she pictured a Viking. The ripple of muscles cording his shoulders and his upper arms were those of a fit warrior. His chest was covered with dark curly hair that tapered to a V at the waistband of his breeches. She didn't dare look any lower, for to do so would be brazen, and when she returned her attention to his face again she found him watching her.
She blushed. 'Nathan?'
'What?'
Did he always have to sound so resigned when he talked to her? Sara forced herself to sound pleasant when she apologized. 'I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings.'
He didn't think that comment was worthy of a response.
'Will the captain mind?' she asked then.
'Mind what?'
'Mind that you're directing his boat for him.'
His smile was heartwarming to her. 'It isn't a boat, Sara. You may call the Seahawk a ship or a vessel, but you must never call her a boat. It's an insult, bride, and we captains take grave exception to hearing such blasphemy.'
'We captains?'
He nodded.
'Oh, Nathan, I didn't realize,' she blurted. 'Then we're rich?'
'No.'
'Well, why not?'
Hell, he thought, she looked disgruntled. Nathan quickly told her how he and his friend Colin had started the shipping company together, why they'd decided that he should remain a silent partner, and he ended his brief summary with the fact that in approximately ten months time, give or take a month or two, their company would take a turn into sure profits.
'How can you be so certain that in just a year we'll be rich?'
'The contract I signed.'
'Do you mean a contract for shipping services?'
'No.'
Her sigh was dramatic. 'Please explain, Nathan.'
He ignored her request. She nudged him. Lord, getting anything out of him was such a strain. 'If you're so certain about this, I'll be happy to help you.'
He actually laughed. Sara took heart. Her offer to lend a hand had obviously pleased him. Her voice was filled with enthusiasm when she said, 'I could help you with the books. I'm really quite good with figures. No?' she added when he shook his head. 'But I want to help.'
He let go of the wheel and turned to face her. Lord, she was a fair sight today, he thought to himself as he watched her try to manage her wild curls. The wind was high, making the task impossible. She was dressed in pink. Her cheeks were flushed, adding to the lovely picture. His gaze settled on her mouth. Her lips were just as rosy as the rest of her.
He gave in to his sudden urge. Before she could back away from him he grabbed hold of her shoulders. He pulled her up against his chest, then threaded one hand through the curls behind her neck. Her hair felt like silk to him. He made a fist of the curls, then jerked her head back so her face was tilted up toward him. He told himself that it was only for his own peace of mind that he was going to kiss her, knowing full well that once he explained the special task she was going to have to undertake she'd start screaming again.
'We'll each have a special duty to perform,' he told her. His mouth was getting closer to hers. 'It's my duty to get you pregnant, Sara, and it will be your duty to give me a son.'
His mouth settled on top of hers just in time to capture her outraged gasp.
Sara was simply too stunned to react at first. His mouth was hard, hot, incredibly demanding. He was drowning her with his warmth, his taste, his wonderful masculine scent.
Nathan wanted her response. She didn't disappoint him. When his tongue moved inside her mouth to mate with hers, her knees went weak. She put her arms around his neck and clung to him even as she tried to wiggle out of his embrace.
She didn't realize she was kissing him back, didn't know the sounds she heard belonged to her.
Only when Nathan had her full cooperation did he gentle the kiss. God, she was soft. He could feel the heat inside her, wanted to get closer, closer. His hands moved to cup her derriere, and he slowly lifted her off the ground until her pelvis was touching his own, then pulled her tight against his arousal.
His mouth slanted over hers again and again. He wanted to be inside her. Nathan knew he was close to losing all sense of discipline. His hunger was demanding to be appeased.
The whistles and hoots of laughter penetrated his mind then. His crew was obviously enjoying the spectacle he was giving them. Nathan tried to pull away from Sara.
She wouldn't let go of him. She pulled on his hair to get him to deepen the kiss again. He gave into her silent plea with a low growl. The kiss they shared was openly carnal, but when her sweet tongue rubbed against his he forced himself to stop.
They were both out of breath when they drew apart. Sara couldn't seem to keep her balance. She fell back against the wooden ledge adjacent to the wheel. One hand rested on the swell of her bosom, and she let out a ragged little whisper. 'Oh, my.'
As soon as their captain had quit touching his bride the men returned to their duties. Nathan glared at several backs before he looked at Sara again. He couldn't help but feel extremely satisfied when he saw the bemused look on her face. It made him want to kiss her again.
He had to shake his head over his own lack of discipline. He decided he'd wasted enough time on his bride and turned his attention back to the wheel. He scowled when he noticed his hands were shaking. The kiss had obviously affected him a little more than he'd thought.
It took Sara much longer to recover. She was trembling from head to foot. She had no idea a kiss could be so… thorough.
He certainly hadn't been affected, she thought when she saw the horridly bored look on his face again.
She suddenly felt like crying and didn't understand why. Then she remembered the obscene remarks he'd made about her special duty. 'I'm not a brood mare,' she whispered. 'And I'm not at all certain I like you touching me.'
Nathan glanced back over his shoulder. 'You could have fooled me,' he drawled. 'The way you kissed
