Chapter Twenty Two

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So damned beautiful. Derek stared down at Arianna with the scowl still prominent upon his face. He had just gotten used to her boy's garb, and here she presented herself in front of his door, dressed in her nightclothes once more. Thankfully this time, he had the advantage of being fully dressed.

"I do not believe Mickey's excuses, Arianna. And I will not tolerate these charades any more. For every misfortune that befalls Miss Bridger, you shall be denied your coveted baths for a full day."

Arianna giggled up at his serious expression. Did he truly think that would stop her? Aye, she enjoyed her baths, but she could wash just as well with a basin of water and a cloth.

"My lord, I will assure you only once more, that I have nothing to do with Miss Bridger's ill fortune. I came here to speak with you, but if she is what occupies your thoughts, I shall leave you to them." She made to move but Derek would not budge.

"She is not the one who occupies my thoughts, lady. 'Tis a black haired witch who has cast her spell over me. A siren born of these same Atlantic waters, a woman and a dream all in one, in the flesh. But like a siren, she is a vicious, jealous creature."

"Oh, please! A little spilt soup is not vicious. And I am not jealous!"

"I think you are, lady."

Arianna shoved hard at his chest, but he did not move. His body was still pressing hers into the hard oak of the door, one of his thighs pressed between her own. His hands were braced on either side of her face.

Arianna sighed, realizing that nothing she could do would make him release her before he was ready to. "My Lord, I am not jealous, I simply think it would be honorable of you to inform the chit that you are already betrothed, so that she may stop making a fool of herself."

Derek smiled. "And what of you, lady? Are you not already betrothed? Yet here you present yourself at my door after sunset, in nothing but your nightclothes, all but offering yourself to me?" His lips descended to trace the column of her throat, and when she dipped her chin to restrict him access, his teeth found her earlobe and drew it between his warm lips.

Arianna's breath hitched as he ground his body into hers. Her unbound breasts were flat against his chest, his thigh nestled high against her woman's flesh. She began to squirm, trying uselessly to break free from his hold.

"Quit that squirming, unless you truly do want me to take you to my bed." His breath was hot against the skin of her cheek as he released her earlobe from its deliciously sweet torture.

Arianna went still. Not moving against him except for the involuntary rise and fall of her chest as she fought for air. Derek stepped back, ready to catch her should she swoon, but she did not.
Instead, her cheeks burned bright pink, and her nose lifted in the air as she straightened her nightgown around her.

"I was not offering myself to you, captain. I came here, to ask you, if it would be possible to set Betsy up in an out of the way place upon the morrow, so that she may take in fresh air and enjoy the sunshine."

Derek allowed her change of subject. Anything to buy his blood a moment to cool.

"Is she well enough for it?"

"Aye, captain, for a short spell at least."

"Aye, my lady, you may do as you see fit for your maid. However, should Miss Bridger suffer any more ill fortune, your maid's privileges will be revoked."

"Aye, captain." She sighed, resigned for Betsy's sake.

Arianna took her opportunity and slipped from the cabin. She stood in the hallway, wondering if she could chance a moment on deck, to allow the cool night breeze to erase the memory of Derek's hard, warm body against her own.

Her feet carried her up the stairs and she peeked out of the hallway. No one was in sight so she slipped across the deck to the railing and lifted her face to the breeze.

*****

Thomas watched as the girl stood directly above him. She was a beauty. He wondered if she were real. For though the moon was full, her white gown, her white skin, even her black mane, seemed to soak in the moonlight, radiating it back outward once more.

She looked like a dream, a ghost.

He reached out and touched the hem of her nightgown. Aye, she was real.

She stayed a few moments, then disappeared down the same hallway she had come from. Thomas decided that now was the time to move.

The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-Where stories live. Discover now