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The wind was freshening from the north and very cold. I was glad of the jacket and hat as I began to walk determinedly around the deck. It was fairly quiet, with some shouting above me in the scarlet rigging above. It was getting on toward midday, and I think some of the men onboard had gone below for their mid-day meal, having had their first one hours before while I dithered in bed.
My leg stabbed me unpleasantly as I made my slow way around, but the spasm passed, and I decided I just needed to work out the cramp. I stayed well away from the railing, having no wish to repeat the dunking I’d taken the day before. Just the thought of falling into those choppy, gray waves into the inky depths below made me shudder.
I saw a few of the men I passed giving me long, interested looks, probably wondering what a captive was doing strolling around without a care in the world. But I ignored them and kept going. I was halfway around when I passed Roxbury swinging down from the rigging and laughing up at someone still aloft. He glanced over in my direction, did an almost comical double take and then roared my name. I kept walking past him, but he grabbed me roughly by the arm and hauled me around to face him.
“What are you doing here? I expressly told you not to come on deck, damn you!”
“And I told you I needed fresh air and exercise! Stop cursing me!”
He deliberately bumped into me, harder than he meant to, I thought, hitting me on my bad side and making my leg crumple beneath me. Maybe he caught me by surprise, or maybe it was the unsure footing, but I pitched forward toward the wet deck. Before I could hit, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me up roughly to his chest. He pushed his belligerent face down only inches from mine.
“Don’t you understand? That’s all it would take in weather like this to send you toppling to the deck or maybe over the side. Can’t you see how dangerous this is?”
“Go to hell.”
I was suddenly furious at the whole situation, and embarrassed to be thought of as so weak I couldn’t even walk around on deck. And the worst part of it was that it was true. The deck was wet with sea spray and walking on it was treacherous. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he was simply stating the facts, though I could have done without the attitude, and even my bare feet—which were freezing—weren’t giving me enough traction to safely move around. I’d already decided to make only one turn of the deck and then go below.
But I was mortified by the idea, and it wasn’t just that I was embarrassed. Dark thoughts had begun to creep in. What if this was going on too long and there really was something seriously wrong with me that was never going to be fixed? What if I wound up an invalid or worse? And this weakness on one side? That wasn’t from any concussion. I didn’t know what had caused it, and it seemed the damned healers didn’t either.
Perhaps I allowed those doubts to show on my face, or perhaps Roxbury’s old skill at reading my emotions was still in play, but he dropped the attitude at once, put his hand on my elbow to start gently but firmly urging me back below decks.
I didn’t fight him, too sunk in despair at my weakness to care very much anymore. Maybe I was fooling myself. Exercise didn’t seem to be helping strengthen the weakness in my leg and arm. He took me below and ushered me inside his cabin, locking the door behind us and leaning back against it.
“Do I need to start locking you in?”
“Do whatever you want.”
He looked uneasy at my reply. “What’s wrong with you? You didn’t even resist when I took you below. In the old days, you’d have tried to chew off my hand.”
I just shrugged. The rain and sea spray from the rough weather were hitting the porthole, hammering to get in. I was feeling suddenly exhausted and wondering why I’d ever thought going on deck in this weather had been a good idea anyway.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“I said, tell me.”
I looked up at him then and he was staring at me intently, his eyes glittering dangerously. I was completely unmoved. “Go away, Roxbury.”
“The hell I will. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“You mean besides getting kidnapped by pirates? Oh, not much a good thrashing wouldn’t cure. Go ahead—I wouldn’t be able to stop you now. Not with these stupid injuries that won’t go away. I’m beginning to think the healers don’t know what they’re talking about and that I’ll never be back to the way I was before. So beating me up would be easy for you. And it’s what you’ve wanted to do since you first saw me again on that ship, isn’t it? You want to make me pay for not running away with you all those years ago, don’t you? Well, let me put your mind at ease, Roxbury, because I’ve suffered too. They told me you were dead. Killed by pirates after they attacked your ship. How do you think that made me feel?”
I buried my face in my hands and shook my head when I sensed him making an abortive move to push off the door and come toward me.
“No,” I said, a little too loudly and firmly. “Don’t you dare come over here and touch me. Not now. Not ever again. I hate you.”
He stayed where he was for a long, breathless moment, staring at me with an unreadable look on his face. I glared back at him. I don’t know which one of us moved first.
We collided halfway, and he began to tear at my clothes—his own clothes, really—and I did what I could to help. We fell across the edge of his bed and kissed—frantic at first and then long and slow, like we’d done in the past, when we were only kids, just beginning to understand how much we loved each other.
They were passionate kisses, an intoxicating and endless exchange of breath and longing. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks flying between us, because that’s how incendiary those kisses were. I couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t get close enough to him. I knew now why no one else had ever been what I’d wanted. Why no other man or woman had ever satisfied my needs before. What lay between us was the real thing, real love, messy and strong and endless and powerful, and once I’d found it with Roxbury, how could a substitute ever be good enough? I could never tell him though, and let him know how much real power he had over me.
He pushed me gently to my back and stripped the last of my clothing off, and then went to work on what remained of his. When he was done, he lay over me and then rolled so I landed on top, straddling him. I ran my hands down his broad, strong chest, tangling my fingers in the soft, crisp curls and bending to kiss and gently bite the stiff points of his nipples as he groaned.
I grasped his erection in my hand. It was hard as a stone, long and thick and leaking his excitement. I moved up against him, rubbing our pricks together and then stroking, finding a rhythm. It had been a long time for me, and I preferred not to think about how long it might have been for him. He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.
Moving my hand slowly but steadily over both of us, I watched his face, as it went through a series of emotions. One of his big hands stroked my back, tracing its way down to the warm pucker of my opening. He began to push inside me with a broad finger, and I arched over him and cried out. Gods help me, I wanted more. I wanted him to penetrate me, but what would that make me? I was no omega, and they were the only ones comfortable with such a thing. It was what they were made for, but not other Alphas. Alphas never did that.
