Kate Hoffmann - The Pirate

He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever go back. Every night he stood on the beach at midnight, waiting for some sign, for the powers that had brought him here to snatch him up and send him back. But night after night, nothing happened. He was running out of time and there was nothing he could do about it.

Griffin rested his arms on his bent knees and stared out at the ocean. He pointed to the east. "See that?" he asked.

Merrie squinted into the distance. "What?"

He leaned nearer to her, his shoulder brushing hers. To his relief, she didn't move away, but tipped her head closer. "There," he murmured, turning to inhale the fresh scent of her hair. His gaze drifted along the delicate features of her face and came to rest on her perfect mouth. He'd nearly forgotten how she could addle his brain with just a guileless smile. "Just beyond the horizon."

She squinted. "I don't see anything."

"England," he said. "'Tis right over there…somewhere."

Merrie turned to look at him, then blinked in surprise at his sudden nearness. "If that's how you navigate," she said softly, "remind me never to get on a boat with you again." With trembling hands, she dug through the basket, then pushed a sandwich at him.

Griffin unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite, glad for a brief distraction. "I believe I would like to see London in your time," he said as he chewed. "It must be a grand city by now."

"It is," Merrie said, her expression uneasy.

"Then you have been there?"

"Several times. But I would like to see London in your time, before cars and buses and modern buildings."

"Then I will send you back to deal with Blackbeard," he said. "There are times when I swear you could charm the man into surrender with just a simple smile."

Merrie gave him a sideways glance. "They say he was quite the ladies' man."

"He is said to have married many women," Griffin replied. "Most put the number at ten or twelve, but no one is certain." He paused. "Early Jackson was telling me a story about a pirate festival Teach held on the island in late September 1718. According to him, 'tis quite a colorful legend. The afternoon I went overboard, Teach was planning to set sail for Ocracoke. Do you know of this legend?"

Merrie nodded hesitantly.

"Then tell me of it. I want to know it, everything."

"I-I don't know much," she began, "but they anchored their ships in Teach's Hole and went ashore on the southern tip of the island. Charles Vane was there, and Calico Jack Rackham, and Robert Deal and Israel Hands. They barbecued a couple cows and hogs, and drank a lot of rum. There was music and dancing. When word of this festival reached Governor Spotswood, the story had become twisted into the news that the pirates were building a fortress on the island. It was after this that he began to make firm plans to set off for Ocracoke and capture Blackbeard."

"You know much about this legend," Griffin said. "Everyone knows about it," Merrie replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "Not just me."

He frowned. "I have been thinking. Perhaps there is no reason for me to go back," he said. "Perhaps it will all happen without me."

"You can't know that," Merrie said. "Not for sure. You have the journal and the letters. For all we know, those may have had an effect on Spotswood's decision, or on the outcome."

He turned to face her. "But I am beginning to think there is no way back, Merrie. We have tried everything, to no avail."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Would that be so bad, if you couldn't return?" Her green eyes were filled with curiosity.

He stared at her for a moment, then, with a frustrated sigh, he lay back on the sand and threw his arm over his eyes. "I have invested so much of my energy over the past year on bringing Blackbeard down," he murmured. "It has become part of who I am. I would like to think that I might have had the chance to put a finish to this, to make Teach pay for what he did to my father."

"And maybe you still will," she said.

Griffin laughed harshly. "Damn, I do not even know how I got here!" He pulled his arm from his eyes and found Merrie leaning over him.

"Griffin, there is something… something I need to tell you."

"What is it?"

She bit her bottom lip and winced. "You'll be angry."

He reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm. "What troubles you so, Merrie?"

"It's just that I-I-" Suddenly, without warning, she brought her mouth down on his and kissed him, quick and hard. Then, as if she'd surprised even herself, she drew away, her eyes wide with shock.

Gently, Griffin placed his hand on her nape and drew her closer. "I cannot be happy with just one sweet taste, Merrie-girl," he murmured against her lips. "I must have more."

She opened to him and he pressed her mouth to his, quietly demanding her surrender. Hesitantly, her tongue touched his and a warm rush of desire washed over him, heating his blood, making his pulse race. Lord, how could he fight this, these exquisite sensations that her touch aroused?

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her beneath him, settling himself against her bewitching body, his hips pressed against hers. How long had it been since he'd felt such need for a woman? He'd lost himself in so many after Jane's death, and though they'd slaked the ache in his loins, none had soothed the ache he felt deep in his heart. After a time, he'd stopped trying to numb the pain and avoided women altogether.

But somehow, he knew Merrie would make his heart soar with pleasure and his body shudder with passion. He would bury himself deep inside her and there he would find his release. The past would finally melt away and he would be left with only the present… and the future… and the woman who had freed him from his demons.

Without breaking their kiss, he pushed up on one arm and reached between them, fumbling with the buttons of her dress. One by one, he loosened them, then relinquished her lips for the silken skin of her neck and shoulder. He parted the bodice of her dress and slipped his palm inside, then froze.

Instinct had trained him to expect another layer or two, a chemise and a corset at least. Instead, his hand cupped the soft flesh of her breast and hard bud of her nipple. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, waiting until the overwhelming need for release passed.

He had thought to deny this attraction between them would be to honor her. But now he knew he was wrong, for to make love to her, to give himself entirely to this woman, without reserve, would be the greatest honor of all.

Griffin brushed his lips along her collarbone, tasting her silken skin and tracing a path between her breasts. And then, with exquisite care, he drew her nipple softly between his lips, teasing at it with his teeth, exciting it with his tongue.

She moaned softly, then whispered his name. Weaving her fingers through his hair, she pressed him against her, the sweet torment of his mouth on her breast no longer enough for her.

Griffin focused his thoughts, trying to control his hunger. He knew the moment he entered her, he would be lost in an explosion of long-denied need. So he would take her slowly, treating her with great care and bringing her own passions to the surface, waiting until she was ready for him at last.

Reaching down, he drew her leg up against his thigh, sliding his palm along the length of her limb, his hard shaft fitted against a spot between her thighs. "I need you, Merrie," he murmured. He drew back and pressed his palm against her cheek, stroking her reddened lips with his thumb. "Faith, but I think I must have been brought here to make love to you, for there is no other reason I can fathom."

Her eyes snapped open and she looked directly at him, her expression suddenly lucid, the hazy passion in her eyes clearing like the morning fog beneath the sun.