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Dorchester/Leisure
February 2005
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Widowed by an officer in the English navy, Diana Worthing is tired of self-important men. Then the legendary James Ardmore has the gall to abduct her, to demand information. A champion to some and a villain to others, the rogue sails the high seas, ruthlessly hunting down pirates. And he claims Diana's father was the key to justice. When she refuses to tell him what she knows, James retaliates with passionate kisses and seductive caresses. The most potent weapons of all, though, are his honorable intentions, for they make Diana forget reason. They make her long to believe she's finally found a man she can trust, a man worth loving -- a true hero who could rescue her marooned heart.
 

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"I won't tell him if you won't," James said. "Cross my heart."

He made a slow X across his chest. Her gaze roved there.

He smiled as her breath quickened. The cloak, thrown back, revealed her cotton dress, and, like yesterday, he could see that she wore nothing under the bodice.

Foolish, foolish Diana. The dull brown cloth was thick enough that no color showed through the fabric, but the bodice hugged her delicious breasts. They tightened before his gaze, becoming hard little points of arousal.

He reached out, and brushed one with his finger.

She jumped as if he'd slapped her. The pistol came up. "Take off your coat," she said.

He stared at the pistol, then slowly let out his breath. She had not primed it. No powder rested in the pan, and if she fired, it would likely not go off. No doubt she had been in a tearing hurry when Jack arrived above and told her what he was up to. No time to summon papa, no time to prime the pistol, likely no time to load it either.

Her eyes narrowed. "I said, take it off."

He could easily take the gun from her. But it might be more enjoyable to oblige her. 

James unbuttoned the two buttons that held his coat closed and shrugged it off over his shoulders.

As was his habit, he wore nothing beneath. He'd long ago learned that on board ship, one was soaked more often than not. He'd quickly grown tired of changing his shirts, so he just did without. Usually he did not wear the coat either, letting his torso bake in the sun. Most of the men did the same. Even Mr. Henderson, his dandy of a lieutenant, stripped down in the heat.

James had left all his shirts aboard the Argonaut, and on Haven, there wasn’t a spare one that fit him.

Her lips parted, moistened with her breath, as she looked him over. "Unbutton your trousers," she said.

He got hard in two seconds flat. 

"The tide's coming in," he observed. "We'll be cut off from the ladder."

"We will be all right."

He slanted her a look. "You had better hope that pistol never gets into my hands."

"Unbutton them," she repeated.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled.

Slowly and deliberately he unbuttoned each of the five gold buttons. He undid the last one. Holding her gaze with his, he slowly pulled his breeches open.