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‘Oh, Lord,’ said Rachel, shutting her eyes.
It was not a demanding kiss. He feathered his mouth over her lips, her brow, her eyelids. He took his time and seemed to enjoy it. Rachel thought she could feel him smiling. She swallowed and tried to relax.
He made a small sound of satisfaction and turned her head so that he could kiss the soft, vulnerable place below her ear. Rachel quivered. Suddenly she did not have to try any more. She was relaxing spontaneously. Her limbs felt as if they were melting, moulding themselves round him. She felt lazy, luxuriously alive to her fingertips.
She thought of the boys she had kissed or wanted to kiss at the occasional party she’d got to in London. It had never felt like this. She was not quite sure where the difference lay but she knew it had felt a world away from this. In London she had felt hot and anxious, terrified—of doing the wrong thing, of being laughed at, of being hurt.
If she was terrified now, thought Rachel dimly, it was not of anything the pirate might do. It was of the way he was making her feel.
He kissed her jaw, so lightly that it felt as if he did no more than breathe on her. Unbidden, Rachel’s body jackknifed into an arch. He gave a soft laugh, his hands gentling her down again onto the sand. He slipped the straps of her swimsuit away so that he could kiss her warm bared shoulders.
Her eyes drifted half-shut. She was breathing rapidly. Her head tipped back in an agony of expectation. At last—at last—he found her mouth. This time his kiss was shockingly far from gentle.
So far that, in spite of her own body’s hunger, Rachel was frightened. Her muscles locked, quite beyond her control. She felt suffocated. She tried to turn her head away.
For a moment he would not let her. His body was fierce on hers. Then, abruptly, he let her go and swung away from her.
Rachel lay there for a moment, fighting for breath. Beside her, the pirate sat up and stared out to sea.
‘Crossed wires, I think,’ he said at last drily.
Rachel was embarrassed. That annoyed her.
‘You mean because you jumped on me?’ she snapped unfairly. ‘Why on earth did you do that?’
He shrugged, looking bored. ‘Jumped on you? It’s called a kiss. You should know that by now, even if you don’t use them. As for why... Because I wanted to. Don’t you ever do things just because you want to?’
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