A love for which even time stands still.

 

Treasured

© 2008 Crystal Jordan

 

Graduate student Rebecca Small is so obsessed with the past—especially the Golden Age of Piracy—she doesn’t mind her unglamorous job preparing museum displays. This display is about her favorite subject, James Morrow, a famous pirate who mysteriously disappeared without a trace.

Becca touches the pirate’s antique sword, and finds herself on a ship in the middle of a sword fight, saving the sexy captain from being stabbed in the back—literally. Once the smoke clears, the man who claims he’s her husband is more than eager to reward her for her timely assistance.

James Morrow knows very little about the woman he was forced to marry five years ago, but the woman who saved him doesn’t fit the portrait he’s painted of her in his mind. She’s strong, brave, and submits to his every dark desire. She seems the perfect woman for a pirate, but he makes his living among the dishonest and disreputable—trust isn’t a commodity he trades in.

Warning: explicit sex, graphic language, anal sex, violence, light bondage, spanking, the occasional hot wax scene, and a string of pearls going where no jewels have gone before. You’re welcome!

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for Treasured:

Almost a fortnight had passed since she’d saved him from being stabbed in the back. In that time she’d showed more passion than he’d ever seen in her. He scanned the horizon with his spyglass and saw nothing but clear blue sky meeting clear blue water. Excellent. He frowned, turning the glass to watch Rebecca spar with Willy.

“Enjoyin’ the view, Cap’n?” Boyd’s voice came out flat and even, but James felt the back of his neck heat just the same.

Damn. Caught staring at a woman like a foolish boy after his first bit of skirt. And she was his wife. He lowered the spyglass and met Boyd’s smirk with a glare. Boyd cleared his throat and focused on his duties at the helm. The sun beat down on them, and James swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. They weren’t enjoying much of a breeze today, but Boyd’s experience in these waters kept The Dark Fortune moving in the right direction. James’s gaze snagged on his wife again.

She confounded him. Nothing about her made sense at all. She’d become almost a different woman overnight. As a pirate, he wasn’t a man to give trust lightly. Ever. It had kept him and his men alive on more than one occasion. He’d expected Rebecca to be the harpy she’d always been—her tongue only sharpening with the passage of time. And he’d been correct for the first weeks she’d been on board. But now…now was a different tale. He found himself seeking her out during the day, turning to her to ask an opinion, reaching for her at night so often he was amazed either of them still walked upright. She responded to him every time, no matter what he did or how dark his desires were. He shuddered as he recalled the sweet heat of her wrapped tight around his thrusting cock. Sweat broke out on his brow for a different reason. His cock hardened at the mere thought of having her. It had never been this way between them. If he were honest with himself, it had never been this way with any woman. Except her. Rebecca. His wife.

His plan to push her into giving up her little charade had come crashing down around his ears. He craved her in a way he’d never craved a woman before. He shook his head. It was temporary. It had to be. He had no time for a wife, and his profession didn’t make it possible to have a wife nearby. His cock throbbed at the mere thought of having her within easy reach forever.

No.

He became a pirate to protect his men, to keep them together. It was a fool’s fancy to think a woman like Rebecca could remain on board. What would happen if they were boarded in the middle of the night? His gut clenched. A part of him was amazed he felt…concerned for her. He would have happily fed her to the sharks but weeks ago. Now the thought of even a small bruise on the woman turned his stomach. Unless, of course, he’d been the one to bruise her. Bloody hell.

She’d done it. She had gotten precisely what she wanted from him. He was putty in her hands. His eyes narrowed on her. Had she played him so easily? Was he so transparent that she could sense the perfect woman for him? How could he trust that this new Rebecca would remain? He couldn’t. A band tightened around his chest as the realization came to him. He couldn’t trust her. Couldn’t trust what she’d become so quickly, so seamlessly. A plantation mistress couldn’t be as content on board a pirate ship as Rebecca now seemed.

Willy tumbled across the deck as Rebecca divested him of his sword. She knelt beside the boy to be certain he was unharmed, but she let him regain his feet on his own. He grunted in approval. Good. She let the boy keep his pride.

As though she sensed his thoughts, she turned to him and met his gaze. Her brown eyes warmed and a sweet smile curled her full lips. God, she was lovely. She wasn’t beautiful or stunning. Her allure was more subtle than that, more intriguing. She warranted a second glance, and then a third. Her hair flowed down her back like liquid silk, but she’d taken to leaving it in a long plait in the last fortnight. He liked that. He liked watching her take it down at night, or during the day if he didn’t wish to wait to have her. The band around his chest tightened. She was everything he wanted, and it was all a lie. It had to be. No woman was so perfectly fashioned for him, and that was the damnable truth of it all. He knew this woman.

She took a step towards him, but he turned away to present her with his back. No. He wasn’t in control of himself here. He needed to decide how to respond to her. His body wanted what his mind knew was a trap. The bait was too sweet.

“Is something wrong, James?”

Her arms closed around his waist from behind, and his cock twitched at the light contact. He wanted her naked on her knees before him, begging to be allowed to suck him. Or her bottom over his lap, warm and rosy under his palm. Or her curves bared and arched across his bed, bound and waiting for what he would do to her, hunger bright in her dark eyes as she gazed at him. And he could do anything he wanted and she couldn’t stop him, would beg him for more. Another shudder wracked his body.

God, he wasn’t strong enough to resist her now. He’d leave her on Barbados as planned, but for now…while he had her, he would enjoy her. He ignored the roiling in his gut at the thought of depositing her on his plantation and sailing away. He’d made difficult decisions before and lived with the consequences. This was what she wanted, what was best for her. For now, she was here and his for the taking. That decision made, he turned in her embrace. Her left sleeve was sliced from shoulder to elbow, leaving her arm bared.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Willy caught you here.”

“I let him.” Her eyes twinkled up at him, her full lips stretching into a wide smile.

“We’ll be in Port Royal tomorrow. You can test your land legs again.” Reaching into the cut in her shirt—his shirt—he stroked his fingers down her arm.

Her eyes shuttered for a moment, and she glanced away. She cleared her throat. “Where were we last?”

He frowned. The occasional lapses of memory had seemed odd of late, and now the differences between the woman he’d married and the one in his arms sharpened. It began two weeks ago, he could mark the day. He tensed for a moment, then forced himself to relax. He’d already made his decision. There was no use dwelling upon it. He brushed at the wisps of hair that had escaped her braid. “Havana. And before that The Fortune retrieved you from the Tidewaters. Hampton Roads.”