I could give you a list of excuses why I have not updated recently, but I'm sure you all know that life, a cold that travels through the house for days, work schedules that stink, holidays, deep thoughts about future plans, etc., can get in the way. However, all I can say is sorry and that I will try to do better. Here is a long chapter for you with plenty of Captain Swan and a little Snowing. Enjoy!
Granny Lucas hated the heat of the kitchen during the summer, complaining that if she wanted to be in an oven she would have been born a piece of venison. However, it was hard to keep her out of the way of the cooks and maids whose jobs depended on the food preparation. This was a constant battle for Snow and Red, who continually reminded her that she was not there to work.
"You're my guest," Snow told her that next morning before breakfast was being served. "I didn't have you come here because I enjoy your sweet cakes and marmalade. I wanted…"
"You wanted Red and her tracking skills," the older woman finished for her. "I'm old, not stupid. Red is still young and spry enough that she can be of service to you. Yet you forget that I taught her everything that I know. I've been living this way for decades longer."
"Nobody is forgetting your contributions or devaluing you, Granny," Snow argued. There were few people willing to stand up to the Queen, but the Widow Lucas was certainly one. Snow readily admitted that her interactions with the woman made her feel quite a bit younger. "I only meant that perhaps you would like to take things a bit easier. You needn't pluck the chickens, poach the eggs, and knead the bread dough. We need you for strategy and planning more than domestic duties."
It was clear that Granny had been working already that morning. Her patterned apron rode on her hips and a bit of flour was seen on her cheeks. "You haven't been much for listening as of late."
"Then I apologize," Snow said, remembering that her mother had taught her that humility was one of the cornerstones of great leadership. "If I promise to listen now, might I ask what you have to share."
Granny pushed the wire glasses up her nose and frowned. "You'll not ask anything until I'm done? I can't abide by interruptions."
The Queen pressed one delicate hand to her pursed lips and then the other as if to gesture to her silence. However, Granny was not satisfied, tugging the Queen's arm and dragging her into the pantry used for dried items such as beans and grains.
"Red was so busy with that Graham fellow that I took it upon myself to do a bit of investigating. I figured that the Dark One must not live alone. Despite his absolute power and magic, the man is in need of some help in running his household. Mundane things are rarely the interest of the rich or powerful, which I assume would be the same of a man such as him."
"You're rambling," Snow asserted, knowing that the staff milling about would eventually come closer and hear them.
"The Dark One has food and supplies delivered to a spot just outside the purview of this shield or what you should wish to call it. Last night I hung back and watched at a young man dropped them off and then ran as though scared of what he might see. A beautiful young woman emerged from nowhere and carried the box back. She seems to work for the Dark One."
That revelation was news to Snow, who considered the possibilities. "Did she seem…"
"I know nothing of her," Granny quickly said. "I only saw her from a distance and didn't wish to get too close. "But I was thinking that perhaps this news might be of some assistance to us in getting into his lair."
***AAA***
Emma gathered the papers from the old book that was falling apart, stacking them neatly as she heard the heavy footsteps behind her. She knew that her father and Graham had headed out to inspect some of the walls that circled the palace grounds, a practice they performed each season before making a decision about where to place resources for repairs. Robin had offered to ride with them, which only proved that he was glutton for punishment of desperate for he and Regina to really be accepted.
"You didn't join them?" she asked as he approached and stood a few steps behind her. "I thought you might."
"Didn't wish to incur injury again," he answered. "Your father actually suggested that I continue my convalescence here so that I might be in fine shape for the ball."
Finally turning away from the table that had been used more since Regina's arrival than any time in recent memory, Emma tilted her head to regard him. He looked to be well, his leather and silk fitting snugly against his muscular form. It gave her a moment to let her eyes linger. "I had meant to fully heal you," she said, sounding disappointed. "Did I not?"
"You did," he assured her, smiling at her kindness and concern. "I only used it as an excuse not to be bored with the daily trials and tribulations of running a kingdom. I have a ship that I must run in a similar manner. I don't need to prove myself at doing the same on land."
She fully understood his words, but something about them made her sad. "You must miss your ship," she said finally. "It is your home."
"Aye, she has been my home for many years. I would be loathe to leave her for any true length of time."
Feeling a heaviness settle into her stomach, she swallowed. "I know that you must," she said, sadness creeping into her voice. "When you wrote me, you would speak of such love for your ship and the sea that…that I could tell how much you must care for both. I should think that most people care for others in the way that you care for such items." When her eyes dropped at that, she worried that she might sound too needy for him to assure her that he was content there with her. Perhaps it was a bit of reassurance that would be premature, but there was a part of her that wished to hear it because she already knew that his leaving again would be even more unbearable.
"It is hard not to love that which brings you such joy," he explained, the tenderness beguiling the severe nature of his appearance. "But if you are asking if I am content staying here, I will admit the accommodations are more luxurious compared to the Jolly and your company more pleasant than that of Mr. Smee."
Her soft laugh seemed to encourage him. "You always know what to say," she told him. "I sometimes wonder if you might have a bit of magic inside you that allows you to read my mind and know what I need to hear."
His reply was drowned out by the clambering of three young boys pouring into the library with Leo leading the way on some search. Used to his sister's presence, Leo barely paid any attention to her or Killian as his eyes focused in on a lower shelf where the book he was looking for was located. Roland was nipping at his heels, dark mop of hair falling into his eyes. However, Henry stopped, looking shyly at Emma first and then Killian.
"Good morning," she said brightly, hoping to alleviate the trepidation she still felt when she looked at him. That seemed the right invitation for him as he smiled up at her. "I hear you are to go skating today."
Henry nodded, throwing himself into an explanation of how he had never done that before and neither had his brother. Emma's face showed interest, as though his story was enthralling for her. The tightness of her corset did not go unnoticed as she stooped down to his level, telling him of the fun she had skating as a child with Elsa on that very pond during a visit.
The whole idea that Emma, the grown woman before him, could have once been a child was beyond comprehension for the young boy. He regarded it as something magical and quite enchanting. Like in most conversations, his eyes flitted over toward Killian with some wonder. "Will you skate with us?"
Emma could have laughed at the way the pirate was taken aback by the simple question. She allowed him only a few seconds of sputtering response before leaping to his rescue. "I think he may have other things to do. He's not a child. He has responsibilities." With a lean in toward the young boy as if she wanted to confide in him, she looked up at Killian. "Perhaps he might go another time."
Henry and his brother Roland both appeared crestfallen at the news, while Leo was preparing to argue the virtues of skating on a magically frozen pond. However, Killian mimicked Emma's kneeling position, his hand braced on the back of a chair. "I would love to, but I'm afraid that is not a talent I possess. I have never had the opportunity to skate."
"Emma could teach you," Henry suggested with the vehement nod of Roland. "The Queen said she is quite good at it." Leo echoed this, continuing on with the story of Elsa, Anna, and Emma's adventures on ice.
"If the Princess should have time to teach me, I might just have to give it a go," Killian answered seriously. While he scratched at his stubble covered chin, he let his eyes dance a bit. "Do you believe her strong enough to catch me should I take a tumble?"
The rosiness of Emma's cheeks grew brighter. "I think I should be able to handle it, Captain. Only if you can."
***AAA***
Leo complained loudly that he must finish his daily lessons before being sent off to join the others, but Elsa promised him that if he did so with accuracy that he would miss nothing other. She kept to her word, working diligently with Emma to develop the Princess's ability to freeze and create ice magic of her own. Henry and Roland were delighted to watch this magical trick, unaware of the purpose of teaching the young blonde woman. Sitting on either side of the pirate, they cheered unabashedly and called out to her what they wished to see her freeze next.
"It seems quite impossible given the warmness of the day," Killian remarked when Emma asked if he should like to see snowflakes too. "But I have little doubt that you would be the one to prove me wrong, love."
"She can do anything," Henry said with deep admiration, his arms hugged around his legs as he waited.
"Aye, she can," Killian agreed quickly. Shading his eyes with is lone hand, he watched the glow around Emma as she succeeded in the task that Queen Elsa had assigned. Her soft golden hair was almost as white as Elsa's in the sun and her long fingers seemed to radiate with the energy of the deed. While she appeared tough and strong in her efforts, he could not help but marvel at the softness and beauty within. "She may even be able to teach this old pirate a few things."
Henry twisted at the waist to face the man beside him. "You aren't old," he protested. "You're…you're…" He groped for the words.
Roland was quick to aid him. "You're no older than Granny," he offered with a helpful tone.
Swallowing back a laugh, Killian saw that the young boys were not quite so sure of themselves in terms of ages. However, they could certainly compare them. "It is not good form to judge a woman by her age or lay reference to it," he told them. "It is better that a lass keep such information to herself."
Nodding in agreement, Roland turned his brown eyes to the two women freezing the pond. "Papa says that you can do no better than to compliment a woman's beauty and…." He was clearly reciting a well told piece of advice but could not remember its ending.
"And her intelligence," Henry supplied, sounding out the word carefully. "What does that mean though?"
"Your papa sounds like a smart man," Killian said after explaining the term, "very intelligent." The boys continued to entertain him with their observations, questions, and stories, each playing off the other with incredible timing. He had seen performers with less ability in that arena, but these two were perfectly suited. It reminded him a bit of his own relationship with his brother, long ago before all had been spoiled and ruined by the darkness of the realm.
Leo's arrival to join them was the only thing that pulled Henry and Roland from each other, both eager to prove themselves in front of their slightly older friend. Emma and Elsa placed the sharp blades on each of them, pulling them to standing and giving a few instructions.
"Don't skate out any farther than that rock there," Emma told her brother warningly. "Our time is limited and we don't have but the surface here frozen. So no hijinks, brother."
Leo was a bit solemn as he grasped the hand of Henry to pull him along and Elsa doing the same with Roland who was less sure footed than the others. Emma spun gracefully to face Killian, who like the children had been relegated to sitting upon the log nearby to have his boots fitted with skating blades. She giggled amusedly, offering him a hand that he ignored for a moment.
"I may have underestimated my bravery, love," he said, three lines appearing at the bridge of his nose. "I am always at home on the water, but I prefer it in its liquid state."
"You trust me?"
The sun was blazing behind her head, giving an almost halo glow to her as he looked up blinking at her. "Aye, implicitly."
"Then give me your hand, Captain. It is high time that you learned to skate." She knew that he had probably been on such contraptions before in his childhood, but hated the idea of appearing lacking before her. Still there was not judgment in her mocking tone, only a playfulness that even a hardened soul could not fully resist. She wiggled her fingers impatiently until he consented to her and linked their hands together.
Like most novices, he attempted to walk on the ice, ignoring the ability to glide on the thin edge of the blade. His steps were clumsy, but Emma allowed them so that his confidence at being on the ice might increase. When he stumbled, as they both knew that he would, she threw herself to that side and held him up to prevent true injury. He chuckled with a modicum of embarrassment. "Sorry, love."
"What do you have to apologize for, Killian? You have surely not had many opportunities to do this since childhood." She shrugged, using their nearness to rest her head upon his shoulder. "I might have some worries about you if you were to tell me that you and your crew were spending your free time on the ice."
Again his laugh rang out against the frozen pond. "I should think you know me better than that, love. I have spent the majority of my seafaring days avoiding the hazards of ice. You may see this as a beautiful and peaceful pastime, but I do not. It is a wasteland and hazard to all who might which to traverse it on anything other than these blasted skates."
She looked out at the way the sun shone off of the ice, glares of light and rainbow effects littering the surface of it. "If you do not enjoy it, why did you agree to come?" One might have mistaken her frown for more of a pout as she waited on him to explain.
"I did not say it was unenjoyable," he clarified, clinging to her hand a bit more as he followed her earlier directions to glide more than step. "A man would be a fool to take exception with an opportunity to hold the hand of a beautiful lass."
She did not respond right away as she did so often when he attempted to woo her with flirtatious banter, instead considering it as though he was being forthright. "That's half of it," she said, still clutching firmly to his hand and studying the way his feet moved. "Lean back into it."
"Half of what?" he asked, his footing insecure on the slippery ice.
"I heard you and the boys discussing how best to compliment a woman," she said with a shrug, making him even more insecure as he was relying on her steadiness too. "Shouldn't you have added in something about my mind?"
He yanked back on her arm, throwing her a bit but she recovered quickly. "You should never have to fish for compliments, Emma. Men should offer them to you freely and without pretense of anything other than wishing to pay homage to you. For you are both beautiful and beyond compare with the abilities and knowledge of her mind." He smiled tentatively as he gasped, unsure if it was his words that might leave her breathless or the way he had almost tipped over. "Though I much prefer complimenting you with two solid feet on the ground."
She smiled playfully, noting that the others were at the other end of the area created for skating. "I kind of like this with you," she confessed. "You off balance and groping."
Taking her at her word, he tucked her against his side as they attempted the arduous job of turning around to skate in the other direction. "I admit it is a fine excuse for being able to hold onto you, Princess. Perhaps we should find more of these activities that allow such close company."
"I know I should not be, but I almost grateful to the Dark One for being such a threat. If not, we would be writing each other letters today rather than skating." It was a bold confession for a princess, but it gained no reaction as Killian abruptly tumbled to the ground. Landing with a loud grunt, he pulled himself into Emma's direction as she toppled after him so that he might cushion her fall. "You're not a very good pillow."
"If I eat as I have been at the palace, I shall become as plump and soft as one of the goose feather ones on the bed." He laughed as her hand splayed over his chest as she pushed him backward. Her dress was a thick fabric of dark purple and seemed to guard against the cold of the ice very well. She did not immediately lift herself from him, her blonde hair cascading down like a curtain.
"If we were not here," she said after signaling to Elsa that they were alright, "where would you think we would be? If I were not obligated…"
"I should think that had you been who I assumed when I first met you, I would have tried to woo you with a drink and dinner at Granny's pub. I would have watched your lovely face in the glow of the candles to see if my charm was making any headway with you." He shifted a bit, the cold seeping through the seat of his pants. "I would have walked with you among the trees at the start of the forest and hoped for the opportunity to hold your hand in mine as we looked up at the stars."
"Quite romantic," she answered a bit breathlessly. "Do you think you would have succeeded?"
"I would have hoped." His face appeared younger, almost softer as he watched her consider this. "I would also have hoped that I might be rewarded with a kiss."
"You have already received a few of those," she answered brazenly. "And perhaps earned a few more."
"Is that so, Princess? I fear I cannot kiss you here with the ice freezing us to its surface and with chaperones watching our every move. The Queen Elsa is a good friend to you, but she suspect my nefarious intentions." His eyebrows raised and lowered as she giggled so loudly that Elsa and the boys looked in their direction.
"Perhaps we should stand before you catch your death of cold and leave me without a partner for tomorrow night's ball," she said, pushing up with much less trouble or clumsiness than he displayed. She offered her hand to pull him up alongside her. "Do you have plans tonight?" she asked suddenly, both hands now closed over his.
"I suppose dinner with your family and friends if you so request it," he said, barely hiding his curiosity and dislike for the formal affairs of the palace. "Is that what you meant, love?"
"No," she said, bending to scoop a bit of the snow that was already beginning to melt in the midday sun. "Tell my family that you have caught a chill from today and wish to retire early. I'll take care of the rest, pirate." She pressed the icy snow to his chest with a laugh and scampered away to join the others.
***AAA***
Snow greeted her husband with a distracted kiss that he immediately called out as different than normal. Her chagrinned expression was contrite as she apologized to him, placing her lips against his again. "How was your ride? Is all well in the kingdom?"
"As much as can be expected." Clasping his hands together at the small of her back, he pulled her forward into him. "All the talk is of the ball and the couples planning to attend."
"I know that you hate these things," she countered. "You pout more than Emma and Leo combined when I send you off to see the tailor."
"Dreadful experience," he said with a little shudder of his upper body. "Speaking of our lovely daughter. I did not see her in the room with Regina. Don't tell me that she is already finding herself at odds with your stepmother."
"She is in the company of Elsa," Snow explained, her palm feeling the beat of her husband's heart. The steady rhythm still brought her comfort like no other. "They froze over the pond to offer the boys a bit of fun skating and whatnot." She had not joined them, wanting to spend a bit more time with Red and Granny before the ball commenced. The older woman had given her much to think about in their efforts.
"And I'm sure that the captain was first in line to join them," the King lamented sourly. "I realize that you said it is merely a girlhood crush, but Emma is a woman now and the way he stares at her is nothing that a father wishes to see."
Snow bit at her lower lip as David disentangled himself from her and began removing the outer layers of his clothing. She had not had protective parent when she had found her true love. Her father and mother were both dead at that time, her concentration focused on escaping Regina. There had been no one to fully confide her fears and desires in other than Red, who had her own issues to deal with at the time. She had navigated through the maze of love without that steadying hand and knowledgeable advice. She had followed her heart, something she did not regret at all, but sometimes she wondered what her parents would have thought of her husband. Would they have found him a good match for her, been proud of the things they accomplished? Or would they have been distrustful of a shepherd masquerading as a prince? She had at least met Ruth, David's mother, and gained her approval.
"We shall discuss the affairs of our daughter's heart later," she said, her tone soothing as she nodded approval for the tunic he was planning to change into for the late afternoon. "I assure you that I am keeping a watchful eye. While you may not appreciate the captain for who he is, our daughter has never seemed happier. That should count for something."
Her husband looked troubled as he sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed. Emma had been the kind of daughter one dreamed about before the challenges with Baelfire and her lost son had hardened her heart. Her voice would ring out in demand for her father, a sound he often told his wife was the best ever. She had wanted to be just like him, following him on his drills and practices, begging to handle a sword before her time. When she had told them that she was in love with Baelfire, he had been disappointed. The man had seemed quite in love with his daughter, but there was something missing from the mix for the King. He had hoped to see his daughter so radiantly in love as Snow and he were, but she wasn't. "I should hope our daughter would have better tastes than that rapscallion."
Snow patted his arm consolingly. "You don't like him."
"He is not my first choice," he said somewhat resolutely. "But he is not as bad as most pirates I have had the misfortune of meeting. Still, I'm not sure that I could ever approve of him for our daughter. Frankly it troubles me that you might consider otherwise. Besides I thought we were not speaking of this."
"Of course. I only meant to ensure that you won't make a scene over his attentions toward Emma at the ball tomorrow night. He is attending and I have little doubt they will at least share a dance or two. It might be a nice opportunity for her, given that we do expect the Dark One to appear at this event."
"And perhaps she can share a dance with her papa."
***AAA***
"It is just a touch of a headache," Emma said, her voice shakingly weak as her mother pressed the cool cloth to her head. "I only wish to go to bed early and not worsen it with the voices of everyone tonight." Darting her tongue out to wet her lips, Emma hoped that her mother would soon take her leave.
Snow brushed off the assistance of one of the servants to fold the blanket over her daughter. "And Killian is ill as well. Has anyone checked on Elsa or the boys. I knew this whole idea of freezing the pond and skating was foolish." The tip of her tongue clicked across the top of her mouth.
"I'm fine," Elsa said from the doorway. "The cold has never bothered me and the boys stayed upright on their legs unlike the pirate and Emma. I'm sure with a bit of rest they will be fine."
"Mother, you needn't worry," Emma said, offering her best and most humble smile. "I will be well by morning. And you've got company to entertain. Philip and Aurora have arrived. And I heard that…"
"Yes, yes," her mother said distractedly. "You are probably quite lucky to be ill. I know I'd far rather curl up with a good book than play hostess to a palace full of royal lineage." She gathered the thick material of her outer skirt and removed herself from the foot of Emma's bed. "I could send up Heather with a bit of broth. That might help."
Emma nearly screamed in frustration as her mother did not move from the spot. "No need for that, mother," she insisted, trying to sound thankful yet not desperate. "It is my head, not my stomach that aches."
Feeling sorry for her friend's fake display of illness, Elsa pursed her lips and then led the other Queen from the room with the promise that she would certainly check in on Emma later. As they had done as younger girls, Emma counted to 100 before she redressed and snuck out through one of the passages to the guest quarters. If she had more time she might have watched Killian pacing in the small corridor between his room and the music chamber. He appeared both agitated and annoyed as she came up behind him, calling out his name and giggling when he jumped from shock.
"I hardly think that you should be skulking about when you are supposed to be too sick to greet your guests," he mockingly chastised her. "Quite unfitting of a princess."
"Would you rather mock me than learn what I have planned?" Her voice was low, eyes darted to the darkening corners as if someone might intrude on the private moment. "I have a good idea." She took another step toward him, leaning closer to share her secret. "We're going to go to the pub nearby."
"Are we indeed?" He sounded as he had when speaking to Henry and Roland earlier, placating her rather than fully buying into her offer. "And the Princess does this often?"
Huffing indignantly, Emma folded her arms over the plain dress that she had put on that evening. It would not have been considered a work dress by anyone outside of the palace, but it was one of the plainest that she owned. There was only one layer of lace rather than two or more around the collar and sleeves, the buttons less ornate. Still it was molded to her body as if a second skin around bodice and flounced outward from her waist into waterfalls of material. "The Princess," she said, emphasizing her disdain for the title at that moment, "rarely has the opportunity, but Emma would like an evening away from the court, her family, and the others."
He chuckled lowly as she fastened the rather plain cloak around her neck. "And that is supposed to hide your identity?"
Nonplussed by his lack of understanding or faith, she touched his arm. "I want to have this moment with you, please. I can hide in plain sight if you would allow it?"
Speechless, he nodded his head with a slight bob and watched as waved her hand between them. It was an almost insignificant wiggle of her hand that brought about no major change other than a charge in the air that he couldn't quite explain. If anything she seemed proud and maybe a little amused at his confusion. Beckoning him to the large mirror on the wall between two banners with the royal crest, Emma let his eyes settle over the reflected image of the two of them. He staggered backward in shock. "But you don't look…"
"It's a spell," she said as if discussing a more mundane topic. "A glamor spell that changes how we appear to the outside world. This way I am not the Princess and you are not the infamous pirate captain who would be wanted by the guard under normal circumstances."
"But when I look at you, I only see you. Is the spell not working?"
She grinned. "That's why I showed you the mirror. You see me no matter the spell or ruse. The outside world does not."
Taken aback by both the spell's effect and her boldness at going to such lengths, Killian put up little argument as she grinned and pulled him along toward a little used exit. The marvel of her ingenuity and desire was enough to keep him wondering what it was that she might see in him to include him in her plans. When he asked her just that question she laughed it off.
"Perhaps I appreciated your idea of wooing me over a drink of ale," she quipped. "And perhaps I thought that best done without the trappings of guards and chaperones that accompany a princess normally."
"You do not care for those trappings much, do you?" he asked as they slipped past the guard houses with no trouble. There were so many people coming and going in preparation for the ball that two seemingly nondescript travelers seemed normal.
"I don't know of life without them," she confessed as they followed the path of the creek toward the village closest to the palace's protective walls. "My parents have allowed me my freedom the best they could. Papa has taken me on trips with him, allowed me to hunt, taught me to fight, and never relegated me to the background because I am a girl…woman. My mother has taught me too. She is an expert tracker and would take me out into the woods to find what she had hidden. She is near deadly with a bow and arrow, a skill that she insisted I learn as well."
"And yet you…"
"You don't see past them," she interrupted. "When you first saw me near Granny's that day, you saw a woman without all that. I only wish sometimes that you did not limit or censor yourself because you think of me only as a royal."
He hesitated, weighing her accusation. "You think that I don't truly see you."
"Why are you here at the palace?" she asked suddenly. "Why not just go after the Dark One yourself? You are clearly stifled by my father's plans, Regina's lack of trust, my mother's disdain for pirates. You tell me that I am out of reach for you because of my station in life, but yet you look at me and kiss me as though there is a possibility of something more for us – something real." She paused her words though she kept moving along the path. Swallowing, she dipped her head so that she did not have to see the soft concern already forming in his expression. "When you said that you would have tried to woo me over a pint at Granny's, I thought…I thought maybe that we could have a moment where I was just Emma and you were just Killian. Where there wasn't a Dark One or a kingdom to concern us." So carried away at her speech to him, she did not notice the way that the color had risen to his cheeks or the shallowness of his breath. Instead she focused on his silence.
His lack of a response immediately made her blush at being so honest with him, and she considered turning and retreating back to the castle. However, she was surprised again as he fell in step beside her. "I should like to share a drink with a beautiful lass such as yourself, Emma," he said. "And so that it is said before we shed our roles for the evening, I am here for you. It is not some obligation that I feel toward the crown or because of a special request of someone in your position. I am here because, you, Emma, requested my assistance. I am here because I believe myself to be of service to you and hope to be a part of something more than a plan for vengeance over an old hurt that has festered and infected my life for far too long. I am here because a beautiful, fiery lass so requested me and I have yet the nerve or desire to leave."
Taking the chance, she stopped her steps and peered up at him, moonlight offering the only light around them at the moment. She saw the heart rending tenderness of his gaze and felt the eager affection as his hand reached out on its own accord to graze his knuckles along her cheek. Every time her gaze met his, her heart turned over in response. "I like having you here," she admitted in a whisper she wasn't sure he heard until his lips turned upward again and there was a flash of white with his teeth.
"I would stay at your side until you tire of me, love," he said, his voice low and barely discernable over the thudding of her heart in her ears. "I may question the sanity of a princess wishing to spend time with a pirate, but I will not deny that I am flattered and enamored by her." He made no attempt to hide the way his eyes traced over her. "And I may hang at your father's hand for this, but I would never wish you to think I am less than enamored with you."
He swept her, weightless, into his arms, whispering into her hair that he was grateful for her ingenuity and the lack of chaperones and an audience to keep an eye on her virtue. Gathering her into his arms, he held her snugly against him, her soft curves molding into the contours of his body. She was made aware of their closeness, a jolt surging through her as his thigh brushed against the angle of her hip and her lashes fluttered against the lines of his neck. With no desire to back out of his embrace, she allowed him to hold her and sank into the closeness as though she belonged there.
As the hold he had over her became more of comfort than passion, she felt his hand guide her head back, tilting her just so. Her calm was shattered by the fervent touch of his mouth to hers, his tongue tracing the fullness of her lips. There was a hunger to his kiss that they had not experienced before, a freedom that came from their seclusion. His mouth moved over hers, leaving her blood singing in her veins as he maneuvered thoughtfully and slowly despite obvious desire.
She felt every muscle in her tighten as his mouth left hers, his lips searing a path down her neck as her cloak was pushed off of her shoulders. Since she was the one with two hands, she knew she must have loosened the tie, but she was lacking the memory of doing so. Burying his face into her neck, exposed by the way she threw back her head, his breath was warm against her as he explored the ivory flesh there.
They might have stayed in that intimate embrace longer had a cloud not covered and then uncovered the moon. He pulled back from her, reluctant and sheepish. "I forget myself when I am with you, love," he said, recapturing her lips and losing the rest of what he had thought to say.
"And I with you," she said against his kiss. "I with you."
To be continued…Next Chapter is a BIG One in this Story!