Read Online Smuggler's Lair by Virginia Henley - Free Book Online Page B

out to raid the cargo of a French merchant vessel. “Falcon Hawkhurst, you are not just a smuggler, you are a pirate!”
    He smiled into her eyes, slipped the robe from her shoulders, and bade her lie prone before the fire. Then, with long, slow, sensuous strokes, he began to massage her back and buttocks. The thrilling thought of a pirate’s hands caressing her naked flesh made her want to scream with excitement. Before he was done, Tory thought her very bones would melt with pleasure.
    He turned her onto her back and proceeded to work his magic on the rest of her body. Her lush breasts spilled into his possessive hands and he brought his lips down to hers in a demanding kiss that was primal and savage.
    His mouth tasted of brandy and it sent her senses reeling. She wrapped her legs tightly around his back and heat leaped between them as he impaled her with a hot, driving thrust. She was wildly intoxicated by the brandy and the potent maleness of the reckless devil who was making love to her.
    It was too intense to last long and all too soon they were both crying out their pleasure. He gathered her close and held her against his heart until her body softened. Falcon watched her eyes close and felt her body grow limp in his arms as she drifted into sleep. A need to protect her now mingled with his desire to possess her. “Don’t leave me, Victoria.”
    * * *
    When Tory awoke, she was in Falcon’s bed, but she was alone. The last thing she remembered was being held in his arms before the fire. When I fell asleep he carried me to bed.
    She knew she was losing her heart to this man, yet in the cool light of day, what she had learned about him last night brought her conscience into conflict. Hawkhurst was noble and altruistic regarding the welfare of the less privileged families of the area, and Tory had no problem with them smuggling contraband. Piracy was another matter. Fiction portrayed it as adventure, but the reality was often bloody and brutal. The words he had uttered came winging back to her: Danger excites me.
    She now realized with dismay it was the sheer, reckless danger of life-or-death risks that held Falcon in thrall. He is a buccaneer who boards vessels and plunders cargo. The crates of tea from the East Indiaman where he’d found Pandora came to mind. The Seacock is fitted with a row of cannon and its master carries a brace of pistols.
    Tory dressed and sat down before the mirror to brush her hair. Her mind went back over what the history books had recorded of Lord Hawkhurst of Bodiam Castle. His ship was named, but no mention had been made of piracy or even smuggling. I’m letting my imagination run amok. Most likely Falcon never sank a ship or killed anyone. Tory decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
    She smiled into the mirror and admitted she was head over heels with the bold devil. She had been ruled by rigid morals all her life and refused to allow a straitlaced upbringing to deprive her of the pleasure Falcon brought her. It felt so much more romantic to let her heart rule her head.
    The sun was high and Tory decided to take her book down to the grassy quadrangle. A serving woman brought out her lunch and Tory realized Mr. Burke had been instructed to take care of her needs. In the early afternoon she saw Falcon ride beneath the portcullis. He’s returning from God only knows what nefarious business.
    He dismounted and dropped down on the grass beside her. “It occurs to me that you haven’t received your share of spoils. Come to my ship and choose your reward,” he invited.
    Tory hesitated. The Seacock was the wicked instrument of his iniquity. She swept her conscience aside and smiled into his eyes. His ship was too sinfully tempting to resist. Admit the truth and shame the Devil, Victoria. It is Falcon Hawkhurst who is too sinfully tempting.
    He lifted Tory into the saddle and mounted Bess behind her. They left Bodiam and rode along the bank of