“Shot him?”
“Aye, wiv yer pistol.”
Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ward off a headache. Damned vixen, he thought, but a reluctant smile curled his mouth nevertheless. Olivia had fire and spirit—qualities he admired in his bed partners.
Good God! Horrified, he shook the thought right out of his head. No. He was not going to even think about bedding her. Bedding her meant keeping her, and he sure as hell wasn’t keeping her. She deserved better than a pirate.
“I shall see to her,” he grumbled. “Have the men begin repairs to her ship. I want to return Lady Merrick to her father posthaste.”
He was briefly surprised at how easily he used his title to refer to her, and then hastily shoved the thought away.
“Aye, Captain.” Will’s laughter followed him below deck.
Sebastian rapped on his cabin door. “My lady? ’Tis I. I’m coming in.” He entered cautiously, peeking his head around the door and searching out her shapely form. He found Olivia sitting at his desk, drowning in his shirt, leveling a pistol at his chest. The mere sight of her made him ache. Golden and determined, she was a tigress.
“Do you know what you’re doing with that?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
He kicked the door shut behind him and headed toward the sideboard for a much-needed libation. Her gaze burned into his back, causing him to smile. “Care for a brandy, sweet wife?”
“Is there any proof you are my husband?” she asked curtly.
“Is there any proof you’re my wife?” he retorted, pouring her a glass of the deep red liquid with the hope that it would soothe her ill humor.
“The ring . . .”
Sebastian held his hand over his shoulder and waggled his ringed finger at her.
She snorted.
“Who taught you the use of a pistol?” he queried as he warmed the liquor over a candle.
“The foreman on my father’s plantation.”
When he turned to face her, he found his gun resting on the desk and Olivia staring pensively out the window. “Your father approved?”
“My father doesn’t know. I wanted to learn. There was no cause to distress him.”
Withholding a smile, Sebastian moved toward her, admiring her elegant profile, with its pert nose and obstinate chin. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and the thought of claiming that lush mouth with various parts of his body nearly made him hard. He set her brandy atop his nautical charts and propped his hip against the desk.
“What are you thinking, love?” he prodded gently.
She reached for the snifter without looking, and he pushed it into her hand. “That you should put on a shirt.”
“I’m quite comfortable, but I’m touched by your wifely concern.”
In the midst of a large swallow, Olivia choked. He thumped her back until she waved him off. “I’m fine!” she gasped. Wiping the tears from her lashes, she glared at him. “What are your intentions, Phoenix?”
Sebastian reached over slowly, giving her time to draw away. She didn’t. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered wildly as he rubbed the cuff of his shirt, brushing the edge of his finger deliberately along her bared wrist. He felt her shiver and hid his satisfaction. The attraction, it appeared, was mutual.
“The men have begun the necessary repairs to your ship. It should be seaworthy again within a sennight, at which time we’ll head to the nearest port. I will leave my ship and travel with you to England. We shall arrive on British soil, seek out our parents, and unravel this debacle. Then we can obtain an annulment and part ways.”
“Oh . . . I see.” Olivia looked out the window again.
Sebastian sat tensely at her silence.
“What if I don’t wish to have the marriage annulled?” she queried finally.
His eyebrows shot up. “You wish to be married to a wanted criminal?”
Her brief side-glance was intriguing and arousing, showing a surprising lack of fear. By all rights she should be terrified, yet she appeared completely at ease. She swirled the rest of the brandy in the snifter, watching the play of light with undue attention. “Lord Merrick is not a wanted man.”
“Do you believe I am Merrick?”
Olivia shrugged. “I’m reserving judgment at the moment.”
He downed his brandy and then moved to the hammock that hung across the corner. Hopping in, Sebastian settled his hands behind his head. “You appear quite comfortable for a woman in the bedchamber of a pirate.”
She blew a loose lock of hair off her face. When it fell right back into its previous annoying place, she reached up and freed the entire glorious mass. His body hardened instantly. Olivia Merrick was stunning, a siren.
“I don’t appear to have much choice in the matter, and so far you have deported yourself much better than the men under your charge.”
“I apologize for your mistreatment,” he said, watching her plait her waist-length hair. He’d never observed the act before and was startled to realize he enjoyed the intimacy of it. “It will never happen again.”
Tossing the finished braid over her shoulder, Olivia downed the rest of her brandy in one gulp. Her eyes watered, and she waved at them with her hands.
Sebastian couldn’t contain the obvious question. “Why would you wish to maintain the marriage?”
A moment passed before she found her voice, and when she spoke, it was husky from the fiery abrasion of the potent liquor. The thrill elicited by the throaty sound made his cock strain against his breeches.
He imagined for a moment that she was hoarse from passionate cries of his name, pleasured sounds he’d call forth with deep, drugging thrusts of his cock into her lush body. Sebastian knew already she’d be hot and wet. Olivia was a passionate woman in ordinary matters. In the bedroom, she would most likely burn a man alive.
“For all the reasons I agreed to the marriage in the first place,” she murmured. “To please my father, to run my own household, to have children and the security of a man’s name.” She ran a fingertip over a delicately arched brow before locking gazes with him again. “No one knows your secret, and I certainly won’t enlighten anyone. I will have the protection and status of your name, with none of the inconveniences of a husband. In fact,” she said, obviously warming up to the topic, “if you are indeed Sebastian Blake, the situation pleases me in a way it didn’t before.”
He stroked his hand down the center of his chest, noting the way her eyes followed the movement with ravenous attention. “You would maintain my house, bear my name and my children?”
“Of course,” she replied, blushing as her gaze returned to his. “I am aware of my responsibilities as your . . . er . . . Lord Merrick’s wife.”
“You would have to welcome me to your bed.” He paused for emphasis. “Often.”