Page 95 of The Pirate and the Pagan
When they arrived in port, Rory took her below to his cabin while a crewman named Hans took care of the customs official. He kissed her nose. “If you’ll change out of those cabin boy’s trousers, I’ll take you to the warehouses. I’m sure when you see the fabulous goods stored there, you’ll make a poor man out of me.”
“I’ll make you a pauper,” she promised. “But I can only speak English,” she reminded him.
He grinned down at her. “In the warehouses the only language they understand is money. On the streets it’s different. You can pretend to be French. Whatever I say to you, just answer ‘oui.’”
“You devil, I know better. I assure you that whatever you say, I will answer non, non, non!”
The warehouses were filled with varied and exotic goods from all parts of the world. The aromas were pungent enough to fill the senses and send the imagination off on flights of fantasy about strange lands and customs. One warehouse held nothing but wine, its floors stained purple from spillage. Every conceivable shape of bottle and cask held the best that Spain, Portugal, and France produced in their vineyards. Rory explained that Holland made gin to export or trade for the wine. The air was so heady Summer felt intoxicated simply breathing the fumes.
They passed into another warehouse whose contents could be identified by aroma. Large wooden boxes, lined with lead, held layers of tea from India, Ceylon, and even as far away as China. At the back of the warehouse the aroma changed to chocolate from sacks filled with cacao beans. Rory simply pointed to the things he wanted and two clerks followed him to jot down and tally his purchases. The haggling would come later when he must pay for the cargo he selected.
The smells in the next warehouse were so strange and pungent, they made Summer’s nostrils quiver. Rory explained, “What you smell are drugs—benjamin, frankincense, galingale, mirabolans, aloes zocotrina, camphire. Other drugs are illegal—hashish, opium, even worse things which men will pay a king’s ransom for, simply to make them mindless.” He spoke rapidly to the clerks, giving them his drug order, and they nodded quickly, understanding immediately.
Summer wondered what he was buying and thought perhaps it was best if she did not know. The spice warehouse was unbelievable. Mountainous piles of peppercorns, nutmeg, and cloves stood beside heaps of licorice root and green ginger and sticks of cinnamon.
There was one vast warehouse filled to the rafters with weapons and ammunition. Knives, daggers, swords, and rapiers were displayed beside scimitars, sabers, and strange Oriental weapons and instruments of torture. Across from the knives were the pistols, guns, even cannons in every shape and size with their corresponding cannonballs.
Rory told her he had things to order which would bore her, so he left her to browse about among the material. He summoned a small Chinese woman in black trousers to take Summer’s order for whatever struck her fancy. The array of colors and textures was beyond anything she had ever imagined. Silks, damasks, taffetas, cloth of gold, and curled cypresse hung beside ribbons and feathers and ornaments for hats and shoes. Chintz and calico vied with Egyptian cotton as fine as spiderwebs. Cloth embroidered with silken silver and gold thread was hung beside more elaborate beaded cloth decorated with flowers and butterflies and birds. Suddenly she was back aboard the Golden Goddess in the halcyon days of her honeymoon when her husband would have given her the whole world, had she asked for it. Her heartstrings tightened painfully as she thought of Ruark, then quickly she banished all thought of him before the teardrops gathered to cloud her vision. Finally Summer saw something which fired her imagination for a gown and she knew she must have some. Vases filled with ostrich feathers, dyed every hue of the rainbow, took her breath away. Ribbon dresses were so popular that now they had become commonplace. Summer wanted a gown trimmed with pale turquoise ostrich feathers. She ordered enough to encircle the neckline and float about the hem. The Chinese woman brought her a fan made from the same shade of feathers and she nodded her acceptance.
Through another door was a room filled with curio cabinets, some from India, others from the Orient. Summer remembered that Queen Catherine had many such cabinets at Hampton Court. The center of the warehouse was filled with the curious objects which made the curio cabinets interesting. There were agates, onyxes, intaglios, a lump of amber with a toad enclosed, shells, rare bird’s eggs, and porcelain miniatures.
She wandered into a cavelike room where guards trained their guns upon her person and she realized with awe that she walked among trays of diamonds, emeralds, rubies, pearls, turquoise, sapphires, onyxes, and opals. Hundreds of other trays held gems so exotic she had never heard tell of them. Rory found her here and told her to choose a pair of jewels to be made into earrings. She chose tear-shaped rubies as large as pigeon eggs. “There are many more costly jewels than rubies, sweetheart, are you sure?”
She nodded and said emphatically, “I’m particularly partial to rubies.”
He tallied up his purchases and grinned to himself as he noticed she had chosen ostrich feathers. She had no idea how wildly expensive they were or she would never have bought five dozen, but he wasn’t about to enlighten her. “Your earrings will be ready in half an hour. Why don’t you wait in the carriage while I haggle over prices for what I’ve bought today?”
A clerk escorted her back to the waiting vehicle and she was startled to come face-to-face with the man she had seen at Stowe who was so obviously a Grenvile.
“Oh, hello,” she said, “we bumped into each other at Stowe.”
The man uttered the identical words to her as he had the last time they met. “Madame, you are mistaken.”
Her mind flashed about quick as mercury. Each time she had seen him she had angered him. Why did he not wish to be recognized either here or in Cornwall? The Grenviles were high in the King’s favor and Jack had recently been created Earl of Bath. What was a Grenvile doing in The Hague when England was at war with the country?
When Rory returned to the coach with her earrings, the encounter was momentarily forgotten. “Oh, Rory, I’ve never had anything so lovely in my whole life.”
“Here, let me put them on for you,” he offered, brushing her hair back from her ears.
“They don’t go very well with this peach-colored gown, I’m afraid.”
“We can remedy that easily enough,” he said, and in a flash his arms went about her to undo the gown’s fastenings.
“Rory, stop,” she gasped, pulling the gown back up to cover her breasts.
“I can’t stop,” he said huskily, lifting her into his lap. A thrill ran through her because he was bold enough to undress her in a coach. When she finally allowed his hands to roam freely beneath the gown, he was momentarily satisfied to simply hold and kiss her. She sighed and clung to him, thankful that his desire for her raged hotter each day they spent together.
He opened the carriage window and instructed the driver to stop at an inn. Cat was surprised because the ship lay at anchor only a few miles away. She concluded he must be hungry and was taking her to the inn to dine. When the coach rolled to a stop in the busy inn yard, he pulled up her gown to cover her shoulders and, without bothering to fasten it, lifted her up into strong arms and swept into the inn. If the proprietor was startled to see the black-clad pirate with the startling streak of white hair carry in a female like a piece of prize booty, he hid it the moment he caught the gold piece tossed to him. He showed them up to the best room and discreetly closed the door on them. Rory was on fire. His tongue darted out to part her soft lips and the top of her gown fell away to expose her lovely breasts. A groan escaped his throat as he gently laid her across the bed and pulled the gown all the way down her hips and off her legs. He was enflamed as he saw she wore nothing beneath the gown but lacy stockings held up by peach-colored garters.
She watched his eyes turn to green flame as they licked over her bare skin. As he bent over to remove her shoes, his black hair brushed her soft belly and she sucked in her breath at the exquisite sensation. Then his mouth was taking tiny nips across her bare stomach and she fastened her fingers in his magnificent hair and pressed him closer.
She was panting with her need for him, crying his name over and over as his mouth went lower and lower until he opened the pink petals of her secret flower and tongued the tiny hidden bud until it stood erect. She let go of his head and fell back to allow him full rein. She knew he loved to do this to her and abandoned herself to his pleasure totally. Her body arched up to his mouth of its own volition and he began to suck on the hard little fruit until wave after wave of pure, shattering sensation spread up from her mons, inside her belly, and up to her breasts like threads of fire. His hands went beneath her bottom to lift her closer to his mouth and he plunged his tongue deep within to gather all her honeyed sweetness. She screamed as her endurance reached its limit and she plunged over the edge to pulsating climax after climax. She came up off the bed, clinging to him tightly, her hot mouth pressed against his throat.
Their hands came together to divest him of his clothes, then he lay full length on top of her so that their bodies touched from head to toe. His phallus throbbed against her soft thigh and she whispered, “Darling, you’ve made me so sensitive, I don’t think I can take you inside of me now.” She was dreamy-eyed and languorous with fulfillment.
“Hush, precious love, open your mouth to me.” They curled together and she obeyed him implicitly. First the tip of his tongue entered her mouth, then it slid in all the way and she tasted herself on it. Immediately she wanted him again and the knowledge that she was oversensitized and slightly swollen nearly drove her mad with desire. Suddenly she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything before and she begged him not to be gentle.
He thanked the gods that he had found a mate who was woman enough to explore the limits of her sexuality and allow him to indulge every raging need. Before he finished loving her, her beautiful blushes tinged her ivory skin all the way to her rose-tipped nipples. He had never known a woman so perfectly attuned to his body’s demands. She opened to him and her wild movements urged him on to total domination. His lovemaking had been fiercely demanding, yet her body had complied to every ultimatum. She slitted him a look of adoration and he ran the back of his fingers down her throat. “You have satisfied all my cravings, little hellcat. I love you with all of my heart.”
