XI.
In one swift motion, Billy grasped her waist, and pulled her against him. Before she could react, his mouth plunged to claim hers. The heat and passion of his kiss was entirely different from the gentle brush of his lips just a few hours earlier, and the surge of sensations that coursed through her body was so powerful that she felt her knees almost buckle underneath her.
In response, Billy smoothly slid his hands to the curve of her bottom, guiding her hips against his. When her lips parted ever so slightly, he deepened the kiss. She gasped, and stilled for an instant, clutching the folds of his shirt.
Billy drew back a fraction, his earnest blue eyes searching her face. Swallowing, he took one of her hands in his and placed it against his chest. She felt his heartbeat, strong and steady, pulsing against her fingers. He was silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice husky with emotion.
"Meg, I promise that you are safe with me. Just say the word, and I'll stop."
She gazed at him for a long moment, then placed the palm of her free hand against his cheek. "I trust you, Billy. I just-was not expecting this."
He raised an eyebrow, then lowered his voice to a register that sent a thrill through her body. "So, what did you expect?"
"Nothing," she blurted out.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he lowered his mouth to the hollow just above her collarbone. "So, you've never imagined what it would feel like to have me kiss you...here?"
As his lips explored the sensitive skin, she arched her neck, suppressing the moan of pleasure that threatened to escape from her throat.
"Yes-I mean no! This exact scenario has never played out in my mind."
Billy chuckled. "But others have." His confidence was infuriating, but he was kissing her neck now, and the sensation was so pleasurable that Meg found it very difficult to keep following the thread of the conversation.
"I …I...didn't say that," she murmured, gliding her hands over the planes of his muscular back.
"Maybe not in so many words, but your body tells me a different story." The sky outside was heavy with clouds, and lightning flashed outside the small porthole. Billy paused for a moment and rested his cheek against hers, his breath warming her skin as he spoke. "By the looks of the weather, we've got a long night ahead of us. Perhaps we should get to bed."
"But we're still soaked to the skin! I couldn't possibly sleep like this."
He laughed quietly. "Well, pirates can be quite resourceful... we might be able to arrange something."
As if on cue, a knock came at the door. Joji poked his head in, and gave Billy an inquiring look.
Billy casually set Meg down, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Come in, my friend. We are both safe and sound, thanks to you."
Joji's dark eyes studied Meg's flushed face, then returned to Billy. He raised an eyebrow.
Pretending not to notice, the boatswain said cheerfully, "Actually, it's fortunate you happened by. We're in need of some dry clothes-and perhaps some something to eat or drink? As the Captain's confined us to quarters, with nothing but each other, we're in quite a fix."
"So I see," Joji replied dryly, his eyes betraying his amusement as he headed to the door. "I'll be back."
Fifteen minutes later, he returned, carrying a small basket of food and two bundles of clothes wrapped in burlap. Meg thanked him, and began to set out the meager provisions on the bed.
Billy walked Joji to the door, limping slightly as his leg began to pain him again. Glancing over his shoulder, he spoke in an undertone."You did choose appropriately as far as clothes for Meg? She's a minister's daughter, not a whore working the fuck tent."
Joji gave him a reproachful look.
The boatswain relaxed, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew I could count on you. I owe you one."
Nodding, his shipmate ducked through the door, closing it behind him. Once outside, a smirk stole across his face as he strode off, whistling under his breath.
Billy turned back to Meg, his hand involuntarily going to his leg. "Perhaps we should change first."
He saw her glance down at his thigh, worry creasing her brow. "I should take a look at your leg. You might have bled through the poultice I placed earlier."
He shook his head. "I can wait. You should get into some dry clothes."
She took his hand, and led him to the bed."No, let's take care of you first. That way, I'll have my old things on when I dress the wound."
"Practical, you are," he murmured as she gently pushed him down to the bed. "A very appealing trait in a woman...even if you are a bit bossy."
She clucked her tongue. "So like a man to temper a compliment to a strong woman by calling her bossy." She rolled up the leg of his breeches, exposing his wound. Blood had seeped through the poultice, and he flinched slightly as she touched the edges of the gash. Meg looked up at him, her grey eyes softening. "I don't know how you were able to fight in your condition. Brave, you are. A very appealing trait in a man."
The dark lashes that framed her eyes fluttered as she cast her eyes down, then smiled up at him once again. Billy felt his body begin to stir.
Damn. Just with a look. How the hell am I going to spend a night in the same room with her?
He shifted his position slightly and shrugged, taking in a deep breath as she began to unwrap the bandage. "Most of the time, bravery is really just about being able to put your fear to the side long enough to get the job done. Sometimes everything happens so quickly that you don't even have time to think." His throat caught when he thought of her slim body pressed against Flint, the Captain's blade digging into the creamy skin of her neck. "But when I saw Flint hold that knife to your neck-" He swallowed, shaking his head. "I've never felt a fear like that before."
"I'd never have known," she murmured, glancing up at him. He saw something indescribable flicker in her eyes for just an instant-and then it was gone. Meg flushed slightly, and turned her attention back to cleansing the wound. Fifteen minutes later, she stood back and smiled, surveying her work. "I think that'll do."
"Thank you," he said, catching her hand and giving it a quick squeeze. "You were very gentle. I'll take you over the surgeon anytime."
She laughed. "I hope I'm prettier than he is."
He grinned. "I can assure you of that. Now toss me my garments and turn your back. Unless, of course, you want to help me with my small clothes."
A flush stole over her face once again, and Billy couldn't help but imagine what she would look like in the aftermath of lovemaking...delicate skin rosy with pleasure, dark hair tumbling around her shoulders. He gritted his teeth, willing the image out of his mind.
Fuck. This is absolutely ridiculous. But it's been too long since I've had a woman. And she is so innocent that she has no damn idea what she's doing to me.
"I think you are mended well enough to sort that yourself, Mr. Manderley," she said, her tone prim but her eyes teasing as she brushed her fingers against his cheek.
He sensed she'd read his thoughts, and averted his eyes, suddenly feeling like a gawky fifteen year old boy with his first infatuation.
Innocent then, but not oblivious.
Meg untied the small package, and brought him the sack that held a change of clothes. He sighed in relief. "They're actually mine. Thank God. I was afraid he'd just grab something from the chest of extra clothes. When you're as tall as I am, it's always hard to find things that fit properly."
"Go on, then. I wasn't hungry 15 minutes ago, but now I'm starving." She turned her back, and walked over to the porthole. "I wonder what he brought for me."
Billy pulled on his breeches and reached for his shirt. "He didn't say. Why don't you take a look? I'm done, and my eyes are scrupulously directed at the wall."
He heard her untie her parcel, followed by a rustle as she slid her dress off.
"I can't wait to see," she said wryly. "Perhaps a pair of striped calico breeches? Or a gentleman's shirt that two of me could fit into?"
Billy chuckled. "God forbid there be two of you." An image suddenly filtered into his mind, and he shook his head vigorously.
Think of Silver, and how he's annoying as hell. And how the special "welcome stew" Randall made for him had a rat in it. Think of anything but how Meg's just a few feet away, undressing.
He stifled a groan, and flopped back on the pillow.
"Oh my." Her voice had a note of genuine distress.
"What?" he asked sharply. "Are you alright?"
"I-yes. Everything's fine."
There was silence for a minute, then two.
Billy cocked his head, listening. "You're not changing. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." The bright cheerfulness in her voice sounded forced to his ears. Then there was a moment's hesitation. "Erm, Billy? How long do you think it will take for our clothes to dry? An hour or two?"
"More like all night, in this weather. Whatever he gave you to wear, just put it on," he said, growing impatient. "I'm hardly one to be aware of the latest fashion trends. I could care less if the lace is the wrong pattern, or the ruffles not as-ruffly-as they should be. I'll never even notice."
A strangled laugh came from behind him, and he heard her begin to move. "I somehow think there is no way you'll fail to notice this."
He closed his eyes, hearing her light steps heading towards the small table where the food was.
Remember how vulnerable she must feel.
"Meg, it's fine," he said soothingly. "You're on a pirate ship. Our dress code is as relaxed as they come."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said faintly. "A question-is the rum Joji brought very strong?"
"Depends upon where he got it from. There are several stocks on the ship. Flint watches over the strong stuff like a hawk, but Joji is stealthy as they come. If it's too strong for you-"
She cut in, her voice high and nervous. "I'm afraid it won't be strong enough."
He heard her uncork the bottle, and his mind began to race. "Meg-tell me what's wrong. I can't help you unless you talk to me."
She made a despairing sound, halfway between a sob and a whisper. "Look at me."
He eased himself into a sitting position, then opened his eyes, only to have his jaw drop. Meg was wearing a filmy silk chemise of the palest pink that left little to the imagination. The whisper soft folds clung to her curves, emphasizing the womanly figure that had been hidden under her usually demure dress. Her firm, high breasts were displayed to full effect by the plunging neckline, which was accentuated by a delicate pink ribbon. His eyes lifted to hers, and the misery and embarrassment he saw there made him pity her.
Shrugging his shirt off, he stood up and went to her, placing it around her shoulders.
"Here. You need this more than I do."
Her eyes filled with tears. "All I can think of is if my father and mother could see me like this-" She shook her head numbly. "Everything they hoped and dreamed of for me…"
"You're still the same person you've always been," he murmured, putting his arms around her. Meg buried her face against him, her soft hair tickling his bare chest. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of rosewater.
"What was that you said to me? That you wouldn't accept that the essence of a good man could be altered by actions that he has been forced into by circumstances beyond your control? The same applies here."
She looked up at him, her grey eyes full of despair. "Society has a different sort of expectations for a woman of marriageable age."
"You more than meet my expectations," he murmured, kissing her forehead once, then twice.
She choked back a sob, and he felt a tear drop onto his chest. "You don't have to say that."
He took her face in his hands. "I would never say anything to you that I didn't mean. Never. And when I saw you just now-" he felt a catch in his throat, and his voice became husky. "God's truth, Meg-I thought you looked like an angel. Not just because of how you were dressed, but because you had the intelligence and courage to summon Joji in the middle of a fierce battle in order to bail me out of a tough spot. You saved my life, sweetheart-and you have given me a reason to live. So don't you dare quit on me now, because we are just getting started."
Meg stared at him, her eyes searching his face. She then stepped back, and Billy let his hands drop.
Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she let his shirt slip to the floor.
"Then show me, Billy. Show me what it means to really be alive."
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