arm while her other hand met with his hair-covered torso. It was a deep roll, so deep that the one dim lantern in the room was doused by its own fuel. In the darkness she held on to him. The only illumination in the cabin was from a distant flash of lightning.
"You amaze me, Aurora," he suddenly whispered down to her.
Another flash of lightning and she looked up. His expression in the darkness was almost terrifying. He looked like the quintessential predator and she, the vulnerable prey.
"You appear to be such a timid little wren," he commented, "and yet now in this storm when the other passengers are groaning in their cabins, you've proved to have as much fortitude as you claim. I must say it should carry you through the future quite well."
"You act as if you know what is in my future," she said in a hushed voice, hardly able to keep it from shaking.
Another bolt of lightning and another roll, and he moved closer. The silver ring in his ear glinted in the flash. "I can't always tell what the future holds. It still surprises me. After all, just look what we have here." He touched her cheek and whispered, "Isaac was right. Who would have ever guessed such an unadorned little London miss such as yourself could actually be so winsome?"
His head bent down and her hand curled against his chest, but whether it was a welcoming gesture or one of despair she was never to be sure. One thing she was sure of was that he was going to kiss her. Just .like in her dream. And though they were certainly ill-honed, all her womanly instincts couldn't be wrong.
His head bent farther and his hand slid lower along the wall. Propriety told her she should pull away, but there was nowhere to go. Too, his lips held such a promise, she didn't want to refuse—didn't know how to refuse. This was no dream that would melt into obscurity the instant his lips touched hers. This was really happening, and she longed to discover all the nuances of feeling she'd been missing.
He was so close she could feel his breath warm and enticing on her cheek. As her fingers uncurled against his chest, she rediscovered the pleasure of caressing him. She explored his front, textured with hair and rigid with muscle, and she never imagined mere flesh could be so hard and implacable. Beneath her hand she felt his heart drumming against his ribs, and she was amazed to find it quicken as he drew her to him. Her own heart beat wildly as his arm encircled her waist. At last the moment seemed to come when they would meet, and even the ship seemed to steady for their encounter. But before it could even begin, it was over.
Vashon's head shot up and Aurora realized belatedly that someone was knocking at the cabin door. The ship lurched and his hand rested on her waist to steady her. In the dimness of the cabin, she could still make out an irritated scowl on his face as he snapped, "What is it?" to the door.
"Vashon!" Benny's voice rang out from behind the door. "The captain is having a time of it in this storm! He sent me to see if you could help!"
Reluctantly Vashon dropped his hold on her and went to a nearby chair. She could barely see the flash of white as he donned his shirt. "Tell Isaac to keep that anchor weighed and that I'll be right there," he called.
"Very good, sir!" Benny shouted before they heard the telltale scrape of his peg leg as he left the afterhouse .
In the silence that followed as Vashon pulled on his boots, Aurora didn't know whether to flee or remain rooted where she was. Her mortification at what almost happened grew by the second; the only thing that hid it was the darkness of the cabin and the impending doom of the storm. As the ship made a precarious roll, she heard him mutter a curse. Grim-featured, he reached for her and pulled her aside of the door.
"Stay here and wait for me until I get back," he ordered.
"I most certainly will not," she whispered, unable even to look at him. It galled her that he would even ask such a thing. What kind of
"You amaze me, Aurora," he suddenly whispered down to her.
Another flash of lightning and she looked up. His expression in the darkness was almost terrifying. He looked like the quintessential predator and she, the vulnerable prey.
"You appear to be such a timid little wren," he commented, "and yet now in this storm when the other passengers are groaning in their cabins, you've proved to have as much fortitude as you claim. I must say it should carry you through the future quite well."
"You act as if you know what is in my future," she said in a hushed voice, hardly able to keep it from shaking.
Another bolt of lightning and another roll, and he moved closer. The silver ring in his ear glinted in the flash. "I can't always tell what the future holds. It still surprises me. After all, just look what we have here." He touched her cheek and whispered, "Isaac was right. Who would have ever guessed such an unadorned little London miss such as yourself could actually be so winsome?"
His head bent down and her hand curled against his chest, but whether it was a welcoming gesture or one of despair she was never to be sure. One thing she was sure of was that he was going to kiss her. Just .like in her dream. And though they were certainly ill-honed, all her womanly instincts couldn't be wrong.
His head bent farther and his hand slid lower along the wall. Propriety told her she should pull away, but there was nowhere to go. Too, his lips held such a promise, she didn't want to refuse—didn't know how to refuse. This was no dream that would melt into obscurity the instant his lips touched hers. This was really happening, and she longed to discover all the nuances of feeling she'd been missing.
He was so close she could feel his breath warm and enticing on her cheek. As her fingers uncurled against his chest, she rediscovered the pleasure of caressing him. She explored his front, textured with hair and rigid with muscle, and she never imagined mere flesh could be so hard and implacable. Beneath her hand she felt his heart drumming against his ribs, and she was amazed to find it quicken as he drew her to him. Her own heart beat wildly as his arm encircled her waist. At last the moment seemed to come when they would meet, and even the ship seemed to steady for their encounter. But before it could even begin, it was over.
Vashon's head shot up and Aurora realized belatedly that someone was knocking at the cabin door. The ship lurched and his hand rested on her waist to steady her. In the dimness of the cabin, she could still make out an irritated scowl on his face as he snapped, "What is it?" to the door.
"Vashon!" Benny's voice rang out from behind the door. "The captain is having a time of it in this storm! He sent me to see if you could help!"
Reluctantly Vashon dropped his hold on her and went to a nearby chair. She could barely see the flash of white as he donned his shirt. "Tell Isaac to keep that anchor weighed and that I'll be right there," he called.
"Very good, sir!" Benny shouted before they heard the telltale scrape of his peg leg as he left the afterhouse .
In the silence that followed as Vashon pulled on his boots, Aurora didn't know whether to flee or remain rooted where she was. Her mortification at what almost happened grew by the second; the only thing that hid it was the darkness of the cabin and the impending doom of the storm. As the ship made a precarious roll, she heard him mutter a curse. Grim-featured, he reached for her and pulled her aside of the door.
"Stay here and wait for me until I get back," he ordered.
"I most certainly will not," she whispered, unable even to look at him. It galled her that he would even ask such a thing. What kind of
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