The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part forty

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24,25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34,35,36, 37, 38, 39

Emerald

Richard’s hands slipped beneath the hem of Emerald’s nightdress and grasped her bottom as his lips pressed down on to hers. There was a determination in his hunger for her body. He was still fighting with her, trying to win control. But he would not win that by taking her body because she wanted him to have it. She craved him and the delicious things he did to her as much as he craved her. It was not for him to win when she wanted this too. Yet he was like granite against her tonight. He was still the Richard Farrow he showed to the world, hard as stone and immovable.

His hands slid down to her thighs and lifted her, pulling her legs up about his waist. Then he turned and set her on the table and leant into her as his kiss became more ardent, his tongue entering her mouth. The intensity of his movement forced her to lean back at an awkward angle. Her hands pressed down on the table behind her.

His mouth left hers and she opened her eyes. A smile touched his lips as he began undoing his flap. She saw her Richard shining through in that slight smile. “Richard,” she whispered, looking up at the ceiling as he began using his fingers.

“Emerald, I love you.” His fingers were replaced as his hands clasped the back of her knees and pulled her to the very edge of the table. “I love you to utter distraction, my siren, but if I say things it is for a reason. Remember that. If I ask you to do something do it.”

She looked down and met his gaze. “If it is what I wish to do,” she thrust back, “If it is not, do not ask it of me.”

His lovemaking was like a storm rushing in and it swept at her in overwhelming waves that rose high above her head and crashed over her, forcing her to pay it all of her attention. Then when it was at an end his brow pressed against hers. “Emerald.” He growled and bent his head, then bit her neck lightly, in a playful way. And yet it was not playful, they were still arguing, he still wished her to obey him as everyone else obeyed him.

After he had withdrawn from her he did not secure his flap but picked her up once more and then carried her across the room towards his cabin. “Turn out the lamp,” he whispered.

With one arm about his shoulders, her other hand reached out and flicked the metal shutter down to tamp the flame of the oil lamp beside the door into his cabin.

He pushed the door open and then let it fall shut with a bang behind them as he carried her to the bed. He dropped her on the mattress then straightened up, slid off his braces, and stripped off his shirt, trousers, underwear and stockings.

When he knelt on the bunk to join her there, his eyes held a very dark intensity. He was still angry and the Richard Farrow other people knew, dominating and confident, the man who’d bent an entire world to his will – “thirty or forty,” countries conquered. “I lost count.”

Richard

“Take off your nightdress.” Richard commanded Emerald. Today she had angered and enthralled him in equal measures. He helped her pull her nightdress over her head and off her arms then threw it aside on to the floor.

She had stood on the deck, when he had told her she ought to go into her cabin, and let herself be drenched by the rain. The sight of her had been utterly erotic standing there with her arms out as she had made herself a goddess of the rain. The damned woman. But it had not only been him watching.

He was impatient with her and angry still. For defying him and making an exhibition of herself. He was determined she would not do so again. He wanted to enslave and enthrall her – to make her worship him as he worshiped her. It felt as though she had trapped him in a cage and he was was nothing more than her songbird to be admired and played with.

The truth was he’d been jealous of her standing with Philip. It had cut him somewhere in his chest, seeing the two of them so close, heads together. When he knew he could not get as near her as he wished to on the deck. But regardless of why he had told her go to her cabin the point was she could not defy him and make him look a fool before the men.

But he was her fool! He had been making himself so for days now, expressing his love for her when he was uncertain of how deeply that affection was returned. Damn it! No one defied him! Except it seemed the one person in his life who he had opened himself up to. “If it is what I wish to do. If it is not, do not ask it of me.”

Now she lay stripped bare before him, because she chose it, her pale skin making her appear to be made of china in the moonlight pouring through the window behind him. Such a slender, fragile, delicate woman. It was a false image, a lie. Her core was made of stone, resolute and resilient. But that core was why he loved her, because his spirit was drawn to hers. She was like him. That was the issue between them. She was too much like him. Too determined and opinionated.

He was going to seduce her mind tonight not simply her body; teach her what his love could be at its full power. That was what he was going to do, bring her to her knees and make her see that he was what she wanted – that what she wanted was whatever he asked of her.

His hand pressed over her mouth so that any sounds she made would not be heard by those on duty on the poop-deck above them and then he proceeded to show her just how strongly and how possessively he loved her.

By the time he had used her body for the fourth time that night her limbs were heavy and languid as he lay be behind her pressing into her slowly and moving her as he wished, while he kissed her soft shoulder. She groaned and sighed; he still had her drugged from every other position they had shared tonight.

He could not remember any other woman he’d lain with so carelessly letting the pleasure take a hold of them. The women he’d known before feared letting themselves be tossed about on the whim of desire. Even June had never been brave enough to trust and let go of thoughts of appearance. She had been scared of doing something that may have made her look ugly for a moment, or sound embarrassing.

Emerald was a precious jewel and her slender, gentle fingers were gripping about his heart. It felt as though she would crush it sometimes, and crush him. Then the world would fall apart. But tonight he was searing himself into her soul and burning his name on to her heart like a brand.

When she broke, he broke with her and the earth rocked – or perhaps it was merely the ship rocking on the sea. But it shook him to the bones.

The fifth time that he used her body, pressing his brand into her heart, making the most of the last hours of the night, he held her upright sitting astride him as he knelt on his haunches, while she clung to his shoulders half asleep and putting all her weight in his hands. That breaking was dreamlike and again they shared it.

Afterwards he lay behind her holding her close, replete, soothed and gratified as sleep crept of him.

To be continued…

The Marlow Intrigues: Perfect for lovers of period drama, like Victoria and Poldark.

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Duke #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel #5.5

The Persuasive Love of a Libertine #5.75 now included in Jealous Love, (or free if you can persuade Amazon to price match with Kobo ebooks) 😉

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

The Reckless Love of an Heir #7

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part thirty-nine

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,13,14,15,16,17,18 ,19,20,21,22,23,24,25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35,36, 37, 38

Emerald

Emerald laughed as the rainstorm carried on its way leaving her behind, dripping wet. The water fell from the brim of Mr Pritchard’s tricorn hat as it dripped from Emerald’s soggy bonnet. She tried to undo the ribbons to take her bonnet off but the dampness had firmed the bow into a knot.

“Miss Martin.” She turned to discover that Richard had come up on to the deck and was standing behind her. He held up a blanket. Emerald caught Rita’s gaze across his shoulder as she was climbing up the steps to the poop-deck. Richard must have sent Rita into their cabin to fetch something to cover Emerald with. She wanted to reject the offer, she did not mind being wet, and yet Richard moved with a determination that implied he was adamant she take it.

She moved so that he could lay the blanket across her shoulders. As he did so he leaned a little closer. “Hold it across your bosom.” The words were a quiet but sharp order.

When she fulfilled his request she could see why he had said it: her damp clothing clung tightly against her skin.

His fingers were then at the stubborn bow beneath her chin, attempting to free her from her soggy bonnet. “You should have gone inside when I proposed it.” Those words were said in angry condemnation, but at least he did not say them loudly.

Emerald glanced over his shoulder again and saw Mr Pritchard staring at them with an odd expression as Richard held the ruined bonnet out for Rita to take.

“There. Now you must go back to your cabin and change,” he ordered quietly.

She obeyed only because she would have done so anyway. But she did not speak as she walked past him and then carefully descended the awkward, steep stairs back to the quarter deck, one hand holding the blanket and her shawl in place as the other gripped the rail in case she slipped. Rita followed her down and once in their cabin helped Emerald remove her soaked dress and undergarments. She said nothing as Emerald spoke of how exhilarating it had been to watch and feel the rain.

***

Later, after she had eaten her dinner with the men, Emerald returned to her cabin and lay in her bunk listening for Rita to fall asleep and for the men in the room next door to retire. It seemed to take a long time for them to finally wish each other goodnight. She waited for a little longer, in case any of them returned. Then she quietly pushed back the sheets then slid her legs out from under the covers and got up to go through the adjoining door. Richard was there, waiting. He had removed his evening coat, waistcoat and neckcloth and was leaning on the table, his head hanging forward while his hands gripped its rim. She could see all the perfect outlines of his body when he was in his trousers and his shirt was tucked in at the waist but loose at the neck.

As she walked farther into the room he stood upright and turned towards her.

His eyes looked at her with an expression that seemed hard and shallow, just as he had always looked at her in Calcutta.

“Why did you not obey me this afternoon? I asked you to go inside to avoid the rain?”

Her forehead pulled out of shape into a frown. The tone and the sentiment of his words injured her. She had never liked his orders. “Because you did not ask. You cannot command me. I am not one of your crew.”

His eyebrows lifted in a warning. She had displeased him and his look said he did not want to be displeased again. She could picture him casting that look at his agents spread all over the world if they had done something he did not like.

She walked closer, her bare feet making the boards creak a little as she walked more heavily rather than running lightly through the room as she usually did. “Richard,” her voice placated but she did no intend to concede. “You cannot bully me. I was enjoying watching the rain. Had you not told me to go below I probably would have done so. I have my own mind. I can make my own decisions.”

His eyebrows descended as his glare intensified. It was the condemning expression she had known when she had boarded his ship. She gripped his shirt at either side of his waist and tried to shake him a little. “I will not jump to your orders and you cannot mould me with your will. Even when I will be your wife I will not become your servant. You said you loved me.” It was a battle for ground she had to claim. He may own land all over the world but when they married she would not let him think that he owned her. “What did it matter if I stood in the rain?”

His arms hung at his sides and his jaw was tense. “You refused me in front of the crew. If a woman disobeys me, and one who is barely out of the school room, what message do you think it sends them?”

She let go of his shirt. “A woman who is barely out of the school room… Is that how you see me?”

“Emerald.” His voice flooded with frustration. “I see you as you. But you have to understand how they see you – and me. I am the owner of this ship. Their employer. They expect me to be obeyed. When I am not obeyed it puts that option into their minds. Do you wish to begin a mutiny?”

A sharp, loud, note of amusement escaped her throat.

He glanced upward, showing that he was thinking of whoever was at the wheel above them and the possibility that the sound had been too loud.

“No one shall attempt mutiny just because I chose to stay outside in the rain,” she soothed, her hand touching his arm.

He moved his arm away, his eyes challenging her dismissive response and shook his head. “Would they not? Have you ever endured a pirate raid?”

She shook her head, uncertain now.

“No, of course you have not. Well when it happens the men need to be more afraid of me than pirates or they will hand over my bloody ship. This is not a game, Emerald. My men need to fear and respect me. They will do neither if they see a woman defy me.”

She was not bending. She glared back at him. If he wished this to be an argument then it would be so. “Then do not order me about like I am one of them and I shall not defy you.” Her fingers curled into fists. She loved the man who cared for her, the man hidden beneath this arrogant, bristling, business like skin – and yet when he was like this she still did not like him. She would have turned away, but he gripped her arm and stopped her turning.

There were no more words. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her deeply, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as one of his hands pressed against the back of her head holding her to him while the other slipped to hold her at the arch of her back.

The longing her body had learnt for his swept through her, soaking her just as the rain had done. She could not be angry with this Richard. She could not deny this man. Her hand lifted to his hair, as his fingers began working up her nightgown.