Disclaimer – All as Chapter One – much as it pains me to say it!

Warning – This chapter contains some smut. Please do not read if easily offended!

Petal Of A Rose

Chapter 3 – A Lesson Learnt

"That's not funny, 'Lizzie"

Much too wound up to note or even care about the dangerous edge to his voice, she snarled at him,

"It's none of your business, where I went or how I spent my evening, any more than it's mine how you spent yours!"

"It is!" He corrected, between his teeth, "It is my business. I'm responsible for –"

"Nothing!" Elizabeth spat back, jabbing her finger into his chest. "For nothing…get it? I'm above the age of consent and if I want to pick up six pirates at the Tavern, you have nothing to say about it! You're not my Father and it's about time you stopped trying to act like it!"

"No…I'm not ye Father!" Jack agreed. A slow, vicious buzz was sounding in his ears, warning him that his temper was about to cannon out of control. "Yer Father might not have been able to tell ye what happens to careless women. He sure as hell wouldn't be able to show ye what happens when a woman like ye takes chances with the wrong man!!

"And you can?"

"Damn right I can!" In a move too quick and unexpected for her to evade, he grabbed the rum bottle she was holding out of her hand and through it aside.

Even as it crashed against the wall, her eyes were going wide. "Stop it!"

"What are ye goin' to do? Make me? Jacks movements were smooth, predatory, as he stalked her, backing her into a corner. "Ye goin' to call out for help? Ye think anybody's goin' to pay attention to ye?

He'd never looked at her like that before. No-one had. Ever! With all that lust and fury simmering. Fear lapped through her until her pulse was scrambling in her chest like a kitten in a bucket of water.

"Don't be ridiculous!" She said, trying so hard for dignity and failing miserably, as he slapped his palms on the wall, on either side of her, effectively caging her in.

"I said stop it, Jack!"

"An' what if he doesn't listen to ye?" He stepped closer, until his body was pressed hard against hers, until she could feel the strength in it, just on the edge of control. "Maybe he wants a sample – more than a sample. All that pretty skin!" His eyes burned into hers as he ran his hands up her arms and down again.

"He's goin' to take what he wants." Now his hands were at her hips, kneading. "How'r ye goin' to stop him? What are ye goin' to do 'bout it?"

She didn't think – didn't question. Riding on fear jumbled with excitement, she threw her arms around his neck. For an instant the gleam in his eyes changed. Darkened. Then her mouth was on his.

All of her pent up needs and fantasies poured into that kiss. She clung to him, wrapped herself around him and revelled in the white flash of heat.

He was holding her as, she realised, she'd always wanted to be held by him. Hard, possessively hard.

His mouth was frantic as it took from hers. A scrape of teeth that served only to make her head spin. A plunge of tongue that bore through to her soul.

Desire. She could taste it on him. The ripe, ready to explode desire of a man for a woman. They could have been strangers, so new was this passion and need. Equally, they could have been lovers for a lifetime, so well choreographed were the frantic movements of hands, mouths and bodies.

He lost his head, lost even himself. Her mouth was a banquet of flavours – tart – sweet – spicy – and he was ravenous. So much there. The taste, the smell, the texture of her – so much richer than his dreams. All of it opened for him – his invitation to the feast.

There was no thought of who they were, who they had been – no thought at all – only a desperate need that filled him as he avidly consumed his fill.

More. The need for more sliced through him like hardened steel. He pressed his hips into the edge of the table and lifted her onto it so that his hands were free to touch and take.

He heard her breath catch in her throat as his hand slipped under her shirt.

Then his own moan – part pleasure, part pain – when he found her firm and soft, her nipples hard with desire against his thumbs, her heart pounding out an erotic rhythm against his palms.

She began to tremble. One quick shudder that grew and quickened until she was vibrating like a plucked string.

Shame washed over him, a cold, grey mist over red hot lust. Staggered by what he had done, by what he'd wanted to do, he dropped his hands and slowly stepped back.

Her breath sounded more like sobbing, and her eyes, he noted, furious with himself, were glazed. As he watched, she gripped the edge of the table for balance, her knuckles white against the dirt-engrained wood.

"'m sorry, 'Lizzie. Are ye alright?"

When she said nothing, nothing at all, he used his temper to combat the shame.

"If yer not, yer've got no-one to blame but y'self. That's the king of treatment yer openin' yerself up to." He shot at her. "If it had been anyone but me, things would 'ave bin worse. 'm sorry I scared ye. I needed to teach ye a lesson."

"You did?" Though her heart was still thudding, she was recovering – slowly. Nothing she had ever imagined could even come close to being as wonderful, as exhilarating, as the reality of Jack. Now he was going to spoil it with apologies and lectures. "I wonder -?" Hoping she could trust her legs, she slid slowly from the table to the floor. "-who taught whom. I kissed you, Jack. I kissed you and knocked you on your backside. You wanted me!"

His blood was still humming. He couldn't silence the tune. "Let's not confuse things, 'Lizzie."

"Oh I agree. Let's not. You weren't kissing me just to teach me a lesson Jack – you were kissing me because you wanted to!"

Now it was she who stepped forwards, and he back, in reversal of the dance.

"And I was kissing you!"

His throat had gone unbearably dry. Who was this woman? He wondered. Who was this devilish pirate wench with eyes full of sweetness and knowledge, turning him inside out with a look? "Maybe things got out of hand for a minute."

"No they didn't!"

The smile was entirely too smug for a female. It was a look he was utterly familiar with and on another woman he might have appreciated. "It isn't right, 'Lizzie."

"Why?"

"Because." He found himself fumbling over reasons he knew only too well. The same reasons that had kept him away from her for the past four months. "I don't have to spell it out for ye." He picked up a half drunk rum bottle from by his bed and drank deeply.

"I think your having a hard time spelling it out for yourself. I wonder, Jack, what you would do if I were to kiss you, right now?"

Take her; he was certain, without thought or conscience, on the floor. "Cut it out, 'Lizzie, we both need to cool off."

"You may be right." Her lips curved again, sweetly.

"I'd say you need some time to get used to the idea that you're attracted to me!"

"I never said that!" He put the rum bottle down.

"It isn't always easy to accept changes in the people we think we know. I've plenty of time."

She was standing perfectly still, but he could feel her circling him. "'Lizzie. I'm tryin' to be reasonable here an' I'm not sure its goin' to work." He frowned. "I'm not sure this is goin' to work. Maybe some things 'ave changed but we don't get along as smoothly as we once did. If workin' t'gether, being thrown t'gether on The Pearl, is goin' to ruin our friendship –"

"You're nervous about working with me?" No button she could have chosen could have been more effective. Whatever he had made of himself through the years there was still a remnant of the rebellious youth whose pride was, quite obviously, a point of honour.

"Course 'm not afraid of workin' with ye – or anyone. I'm Capt'n Jack Sparrow, Luv."

"If that's true, then we don't have a problem. Of course, if you're thinking that you might not be able to stop yourself from – how did you put it – sampling me-"

"'m not goin' to be touchin' ye again."

The gritty fury in his voice made her smile, sweetly. "Well then, I suggest we get back to work!"

Once again…Please review! It encourages me to upload more chapters!

Loads of smut in the next chapter!