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He kissed her mouth gently, caressing her breast with his free hand as he began to move inside her, and she began to move with him. After a moment there was no more pain, only an incredible sense of urgency, increasing with every breath she took. As before when he had touched her, the sensations began to build, one on top of the other until they burst inside her, fanning outward in a release of pleasure she had not imagined possible. Blake thrust one last time, his body tensing as he groaned, and she knew he, too, had found release.
Later, when he had withdrawn from her and she lay in the crook of his arm, weak-limbed and unable to do anything more than try to catch her breath, she realized that she finally understood Angelique. Understood what it meant to be a woman. To be a lover.
“So sweet,” he whispered, kissing her bare shoulder, his eyes closed. “You see, I told you we would get along well.”
Without responding, she turned onto her side, pushing her bare bottom against his groin as she pulled the rumpled sheet over them, and then she fell asleep, content, at least for a moment.
Sapphire woke later to find herself alone in the ship’s cabin. Blake was gone, but on the desk she spotted a small tray with bread, cheese, an apple and a pewter mug. Suddenly starving, she wrapped the sheet around herself and hobbled the three steps to the chair at the desk. Once seated, as she tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it into her mouth, she found a note. It was the first time she had ever seen Blake’s handwriting, which was bold, the lines of ink thick and purposeful.
Nourishment was all it said, but the single word made her smile. Nourishment for what? To recover from their heated lovemaking? To prepare for more?
Sapphire was shocked that her thoughts could be so sexual. The first time she had ever been with a man and she was already thinking about the next time?
She sawed off a piece of cheese with the small knife he had left her, and wrapped it in a piece of bread, wondering where these indecent notions had come from. She expected such behavior from Angelique, but never herself. Not before today, at least.
Perhaps all this pretending was the cause. Play the whore long enough and you become one?
She almost laughed. What a ridiculous thought. Despite what she had led Charles and the other young men to believe, she had never done anything more than most of the young women her age. In fact, if truth be told, she knew she had done far less than many. She heard the whispers in the women’s salons, heard her beaux talking among themselves when they thought she wasn’t listening. London’s young women were not as innocent as they liked their parents and guardians to believe.
Sapphire sliced off a bit of apple and pushed it into her mouth as she reached for the mug. The cider was cool and crisp and she gulped it so fast that a trickle ran down her chin.
The door opened and she spun around, tightening the sheet around her bare breasts, swallowing the last gulp of cider.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Blake said, ducking through the door.
She chewed the last of the apple in her mouth, unsure of what to say.
“I see you found the food. I thought you might be hungry.” He came toward her, a smile playing on his lips. When he stopped in front of her, he reached out and caught the dribble of cider on her chin and drew his finger to his mouth.
The simple gesture left her insides trembling, and she looked away to cover her discomfort.
“Why, Miss Sapphire Fabergine, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you speechless.”
“I want my clothes back,” she said, reaching for the rest of the apple as she rose from the chair, backing up toward the bunk while trying not to put too much pressure on her injured ankle.
“Which is why I brought you these.” He held up a bundle of clothing, but it appeared far too compact to be her gown and underclothes.
She stared at the bundle tied with twine. “I want my own clothes.”
“Sorry.” He frowned. “I told you they were torn beyond repair. Besides, silk gowns and ruffled petticoats are not terribly practical on the open sea.”
She studied the bundle of clothing again and realized anything was better than wearing this sheet. Once she was clothed in something, she’d feel less vulnerable. That thought in mind, she put out one hand and sat on the bunk.
He lifted the bundle by the string and let it dangle from his finger, staring at her, making no attempt to hide his lust. “Then again,” he said, “I must admit I like you this way.”
She tightened her grip on the sheet around her. “Please?”
He smirked and tossed the bundle to the bed, turning to the plate on the desk. “For such a slender woman, you certainly eat a lot.” He tore what was left of the bread in half and began to cut off a piece of cheese for himself. “This was supposed to be my breakfast, too.”
She set the apple on the bed and reached for the clothing. Untying the twine, she found that he had brought her a pair of boy’s canvas breeches and a white cotton shirt. “That’s it?” she asked incredulously. “This is all you could find me?”
“I’m sorry, we’re now on the open sea. Not many dress shops.”
“Surely you can’t expect me to wear these. It’s indecent!”
“Hardly more indecent than what we did here not so long ago.”
“Oh, you really are a cad.”
