Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

Giana was surprised to see the leather-faced, stocky captain of the huge steamship Halyon plant himself in front of Alex when they boarded the ship.

“Well, sir,” he said in a booming voice, vigorously pumping Alex’s hand, “delighted to have you aboard this trip. And this, I take it, is Mrs. Saxton. A most fruitful trip for you, sir. It appears that you’ve come away with England’s finest.”

“It was a most fruitful trip,” Alex said smoothly. “Mrs. Saxton, let me introduce you to my captain, Darrell Duffey, an old salt who can spin an outrageous tale better than any man in the fleet.”

“Captain Duffey,” Giana said, nodding.

“Your stateroom is ready, sir, and we’ve sobered up the helmsman, poor chap. Got himself caught up with some Irish sailors and was the worse for wear this morning. But he’s an American, and they don’t come with harder heads—”

As Captain Duffey continued his monologue, Giana looked about the bustling ship. Sailors were high in the rigging setting the sails, while others hoisted cargo crates, fastened down under tarpaulins, belowdecks. She heard Captain Duffey tell Alex there were some fifteen passengers for the voyage to New York.

“You approve of the Halyon?”

“You did not tell me it was one of your ships, Alex.”

“Actually, I bought her during your confinement in Cornwall, and rigged her out with my crew. She’ll mak

e the crossing in fourteen days, Giana, if we are lucky enough to avoid early-winter storms.”

Giana ran her fingers over the sparkling brass railing. “Fourteen days,” she said. “I still have trouble believing such speeds.”

“The combination of steam and full sails gives us the best of everything. Come, let me show you our stateroom.”

Giana had barely time to take in the rich mahogany walls of the stateroom, and the thick carpets be neath her feet, before she felt Alex’s mouth caressing her ear, his hands stroking her back.

“It’s been a long time, Giana, and I’m starving.”

“If you are this hungry much of the time, you’ll become fat.”

“We’ll see which of us becomes fat first.”

She wrapped her arms about his neck and rose on her toes, trying to fit her body against his, but his mouth was still beyond her reach. He gave her a teasing, boyish grin before sweeping her into his arms and dumping her unceremoniously onto the bed.

“You have three minutes to get out of those clothes, Giana, no more.”

She was still struggling with her stockings when Alex, deliciously naked, grabbed her ankles and upended her on the bed. She wondered vaguely as he rolled down her stockings why his touch should make her feel so urgent. Then he was on top of her, and she was kissing him, clutching him against her.

“Don’t rape me,” he said, nibbling her throat. He pulled her to face him and captured her hand. He closed his fingers over hers and guided her hand down to feel herself as he caressed her. Her embarrassment quickly faded, and when he loosed her fingers, she tentatively closed them about him.

“You are so big, Alex,” she said. “I cannot believe that you don’t rip me apart.”

His fingers still caressed her. “If you did not want me, I would hurt you. But you are soft, ready for me.”

Her fingers glided upward, and he moaned. “God, you little witch, if you don’t stop that, we’ll soon find ourselves at an impasse.”

Giana felt as though she hadn’t a bone in her body when he turned her again, away from him. She turned her head to look at him, but he held her still. He kissed the back of her neck and cupped her breast with his hand beneath her, while he pressed her belly to fit her close against him. His fingers found her again, and she felt him press against her and slowly thrust inside her.

The familiar ache of sheer sensation built within her, and she was wild to reach the pleasure he had given her the previous night. She was writhing against him, not understanding why he would not give her release. His fingers were tantalizing, featherlight, and she cried out.

“Damn you.”

“It will take me years to slow you down,” Alex said against her ear. Her last coherent thought was that she would die if he stopped.

Giana shivered as the sheen of perspiration dried in the cool cabin air. She rolled over and pressed herself against his warm body.

“You are superb,” she said. “I do not mind that you are so terribly conceited.”

“Am I superb enough to be your husband?”