Care and Feeding of Pirates Read Free Page A

accent, but
now it had an edge to it, as though it had been broken and
imperfectly repaired. Gravel on a dry road had a sound like
that.
    Christopher cupped her shoulders, heat of
them burning through her dressing gown as though the silk didn't
exist. "The last time we met, you threw yourself into my arms," he
said.
    "The last time." Honoria gulped air. "Why is
there a this time?"
    "Because there is. Stop talking and let me
kiss you."
    Christopher bent to her, his breath on her
lips, his eyes cool, clear, and gray. Honoria silenced every
screaming question in her mind, twined her arms about his neck, and
kissed him.
    For a moment Christopher stopped, as though
he hadn't believed she'd kiss him back. Then he touched his thumbs
to the corners of her mouth, parting her lips for him, licking
behind them, opening her, as demanding as ever.
    Their mouths met and parted, breath tangling,
Christopher drawing her up to him as though the time between their
last kiss and this had been seconds, not years.
    Honoria couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He
was here, in her arms. Alive.
    Christopher eased out of the kiss and looked
down at her, thumb brushing moisture from her lips.
    For a ghost he was certainly solid. And hot.
She'd never felt anything like it short of sticking her hand into a
fire. But then, they said Christopher had gone straight to hell and
been turned away. Even Beelzebub had not wanted him.
    Honoria ran her hands across his shoulders,
down his back, up under his warm hair. No man could be more alive
than this. His pulse beat strong in his throat, and his hardness
pressed her thin dressing gown.
    Christopher nudged his bent knee between
hers, pulling her against his body. She found her dressing gown
parting, his thigh resting between her legs, right against her
opening through her nightrail. Honoria wanted more than anything to
slide along that thigh, to savor the sweet friction.
    "That's the Honoria I remember," he said.
    Each time they met had been like this. They'd
spoken a few phrases then came together frantically with lips,
hands, and bodies.
    Christopher dragged her closer while he
opened her mouth under his again. His lips were strong, masterful,
bruising. He knew what he wanted and took it.
    Honoria tried to push him away, but it was
like pushing a brick wall. The bristles on his jaw burned her skin
as he deepened the kiss.
    Honoria's body melted to his, his hand
running down the placket of her dressing down, fingers dipping
inside to her bare skin.
    "Christopher," she tried to whisper against
his mouth. "We must talk."
    Christopher's eyes were like smoke in the
sunshine. "I don't want to talk just yet."
    "But you're supposed to be dead."
    "You keep saying that. Inconvenient for you,
is it?"
    The ties on his shirt were frayed. He smelled
of soap and tar and the faint musk Honoria would remember until the
day she died. "No, I want you to be alive." She traced the muscles
of his chest through his shirt. "But I don't understand . . ."
    He cupped her face in his hands, his
fingertips warm on her cheeks. "For once we have a convenient bed.
But I think I prefer the floor, with you."
    They had carpet this time, at least. But if
Honoria allowed him to take her there, she would surrender to him
again, and that would be the end of her. She'd burn to a crisp and
be nothing but a pile of ash.
    Christopher's absence hadn't diminished his
strength. He tilted Honoria's head back, threaded his hands through
her loosened hair, and kissed her again, not giving her any
choice.
    He was right--explanations could come later.
Honoria parted her lips, letting him explore her mouth in slow,
familiar, intimate, breathtaking strokes.
    The door clicked open, and a cold draft
poured into the room. From the doorway, Diana said clearly, "Take
your hands off her, or I will shoot you."
    Christopher stopped. In tense silence, he
eased his mouth from Honoria's and took one step away from her.
Looking neither alarmed nor angry, he steadied Honoria on