until he felt sure he’d lose her clinging heat, only to impale herself more deeply on the downward stroke. Once he was sure she was in control, Jack drew a ragged breath and refocused his attention on her breasts, warm and ripe beneath the tantalizing film of her shirt.
Kit savored the sensation of being in complete control, able to slide his strength into her at whatever pace she desired. She spread her thighs wide and took him deep; she experimented, clenching her muscles tight about him, closing her thighs to minimize penetration.
She felt Jack’s hands close about her breasts, one hand covering each ripe mound, squeezing in rhythm with her ride. His fingers found her nipples. Then he started rocking his hips against hers, driving into her as she descended. Abruptly, Kit understood the purpose of her shirt. The edge floated on her thighs, rising and falling as she did, bringing home to her the view Jack would have if he was watching their bodies merge.
As she felt her fires coalescing, pooling into the conflagration that would ultimately consume her senses, Kit forced her eyes open. Jack was watching. Avidly.
With a groan she closed her eyes. Her head dropped back as the fires raged. She tightened her body, trying to hold back the inevitable, to prolong the sweet agony for just a little longer.
Jack wasn’t up to prolonging anything. The sensual sight of their bodies fusing, of his staff driving into her, slickly penetrating her fevered body, was not designed to stave off consummation. He felt her body clench against release, tightening about him. He let go of her breasts and gripped her hips, holding her immobile. Drinking in the sight, he drove deeply into her.
That was all it took.
They climaxed together, gasping, their eyes open, gazes locked, their souls as fused as their bodies.
Kit’s release swept her, draining her of all strength. She slumped forward and Jack gathered her to him, settling her legs so she lay on top of him, tucking her head under his chin.
She fell asleep with his arms about her.
When Kit awoke, they were lying entangled under the covers. She couldn’t remember being moved, but Jack now lay sleeping beside her, one arm tucked protectively about her. Kit smiled sleepily, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. She was warm and secure, sated and content. Which was more than she’d been able to say since Wednesday night.
She squinted over the bedclothes at the window; the pink tinge of sunset was coloring the sky. It was nearly time to leave.
Memories of her recent activities drifted through her brain. She stifled a delighted giggle, then sobered. If she’d learned anything from today’s episode, it was that she couldn’t live without Jack. The fire in her veins was a drug she could no longer face the day without. Only he could stoke the blaze.
But Jack was smuggling spies.
Kit snuggled closer to his comforting warmth. She knew, beyond all doubt, that he was not personally involved with the spying. He was just misguided, believing it no different than smuggling brandy. She’d have to ensure, next time, that she explained it to him fully. It was up to her to make him see sense.
She had to succeed. There were three lives depending on it-Julian’s, Jack’s, and hers. Kit sighed. She’d speak to him about it next time she came. There was no point in spoiling the moment now.
Carefully, she eased from Jack’s side, only to have him draw her back, his arm heavy in sleep. Kit glanced at the window. Perhaps it wasn’t that late. She wriggled against Jack, rising up to find his lips with hers. And set about kissing him awake.
Chapter 20
The stars fell from Kit’s eyes on Monday night. She’d decided to attend the meeting at the Old Barn. Although she no longer felt compelled to join the smugglers on their runs, she needed to see Jack, to try to learn more about his views on “human cargoes.” When better to lead the conversation in that direction than on the slow ride back to the cottage after the meeting? She held few illusions as to how much rational discussion they’d engage in once they entered the cottage. But he’d only run one “human cargo” in the last two months; she had time, she felt, to pursue his conversion at a leisurely pace.
The meeting had already started when she got there. She slipped into the protective shadows at the back of the barn and found a dusty crate to perch on. Some noticed her furtive entrance; a few nodded an acknowledgment before returning their attention to Jack, standing in the cone of weak light shed by a single lamp.
Kit saw his grey eyes sweep her, but Jack’s recitation of detail never faltered. He was midway through describing a cargo to be brought in the next night on the beaches east of Holme. Kit listened with half an ear, fascinated by the way the lamplight gilded the odd streaks in his hair.
Jack turned to address Shep. “You and Johnny collect the passenger from Creake at dusk. Bring him direct to the beach.”
Kit froze.
Shep nodded; Jack turned to Noah. “Come in and pick him up. Your boat should be the last to the ship. Transfer him and get the last of the goods.”
“Aye.” Noah ducked his head.
“That’s it, then.” Jack scanned the faces, all weatherworn, most expressionless. “We’ll meet again Thursday as usual.”
With grunts and nods, the band dispersed, unobtrusively slipping into the night in twos and threes. The lamp was hauled down and extinguished.
Still Kit sat her crate, head down, her face hidden by the brim of her tricorne. Jack eyed her silent figure. His misgivings grew. What the devil was wrong now? He’d expected her to arrive, but her pensiveness was unsettling. Eagerness was what he’d been expecting after her efforts of Sunday afternoon.
George and Matthew joined him by the now open door.
“I’m heading straight home.” George spoke in a subdued tone, clearly aware Kit was behind in the gloom. He raised a questioning brow.
Jack’s jaw set. He nodded decisively. George slipped into the night.
“You’d best be on your way, too.”
“Aye.” Matthew went without question. Jack watched him mount and head south, through the shielding trees and into the fields beyond.
In the darkness behind Jack, Kit struggled to bring some order to her mind. Jack must have known about this latest “human cargo” since his visit to the Blackbird last Wednesday. Although she’d spent all Wednesday night and Sunday afternoon by his side, he’d not mentioned the fact. He’d not even alluded to it. So much for her ideas of learning of the spies ahead of time. Now, she’d less than twenty-four hours to make a decision and act.
When the silence of the barn remained unbroken, Jack turned and paced inside. He stopped where the moonlight ran out, and looked to where he knew Kit still sat. “What is it?”
At his impatient tone, Kit bristled, a fact Jack missed in the dark. Realizing her advantage, she took a long moment to weigh her strategy. She’d intended dissuading Jack from his treasonous enterprise; it was still worth a try. But the drafty barn, with its loose boards and warped doors, was no place to have a discussion on treason, particularly not with the person you suspected of committing it. “I need to talk with you.”
Hands on hips, Jack glared into the dark. Talk? Was she up to her tricks again? He was getting damned tired of her changes in mood. He’d thought, after Sunday, that their relationship had got itself on an even keel-that she’d accepted her position as his mistress. Admittedly, she didn’t know whose mistress she was, but he didn’t think she’d jib at the change from smuggler to lord of the castle. He didn’t think she’d jib, period.
Then he remembered she’d been watching him avidly when she’d first come in. Her attitude had changed later. An inkling of his problem blossomed in Jack’s brain. “If you want to talk, it’d better be back at the cottage.”
Kit stood and walked forward.
Jack heard her. He turned and strode to the door, not looking back to see if she was following. He went to where Champion stood tethered under a gnarled fir and vaulted into the saddle. He nudged the stallion into a canter, ignoring the horse’s reluctance. Champion’s gait didn’t flow freely until halfway across the first field, when Delia drew alongside.
