In the Hollow of the Heart

*~*~*~*~*~*
Well, at least it didn't take four months this time, right? Okay, so it was three months and a couple of days. But I hope you will still be pleased with the result, my Barbossabeth fangirls, because I read your reviews and responded accordingly. Conni, Lynne, Dreadspinner and SmithFan_94 - here it is, the much-referred-to-but-never-before-revealed 'first' night for Hector and Elizabeth. Don't ever say I don't love my readers!

And as always, RF, you are a grammatical, spelling and style godsend, and I don't think I'd ever get a word published except for you. :) Thank you for always being at my beck and call, even into the wee hours.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 9 - Sweet Interlude

The tropical sun eased in through the window, bathing Elizabeth’s face and forcing her to blink blearily into late morning’s shimmering light. She should have been down in the kitchen hours ago, stoking the fires so the goose would cook in time for Christmas supper, but it was so indescribably wonderful to lounge in bed for a change. Besides, what was food when compared to the sensation of hot, bare male skin against hers…or the heaviness of a covetous arm thrown over her waist…or the contented snore of a man, utterly spent from loving her so well?

Smiling contentedly, she closed her eyes again and snuggled into the warmth of Hector’s embrace. It was a serene moment of perfect happiness, she thought as she began to drift off again, lulled back to sleep by the enticing caress of the sunbeams. That she would find herself so blessed, especially when she had tried very hard over the years to ignore the bond that had been forged during that one night…well, it was more than she could have hoped for…

Barbossa’s hand was enticingly firm on the small of her back as he escorted her through the heavy double doors and into his quarters on board the Pearl. As he secured the bolt behind them, Elizabeth moved further into the dimly lit cabin, drinking in the dark woods and heavy brocade draperies with an emotion bordering on nostalgia.

When she had last found herself here, it seemed a foregone conclusion in her mind that the formidable pirate captain was intent on roughly divesting her of her maidenhood before they reached the Isla de Muerta. Ignorant as she was then of the curse that guaranteed he’d find no fulfilment in the depraved deed – and as such, had left him stripped of any desire to pursue it – she had plunged a jagged silver knife into his chest in a frantic attempt to preserve both her virtue and her life.

She looked down, half expecting to see dark splotches of his blood still marring the intricate pattern of the shabby Persian rug beneath her feet. How strange to consider that a man such as that – a man she’d once have gladly killed given half a chance – would become her hero when her heart cried out for one most. And it was stranger still that she now stood willing to surrender to him that which she had protected with such self-righteous fervour.

In the end, Barbossa didn’t even have to attempt an artful seduction. Instead, it was his candour and kindness that broke down all of her stoic defences and left her desperate for his affections. That and his ability to see the truth of her innermost feelings, she amended inwardly. How he could do so when no other man in her life could was certainly a mystery, but Elizabeth wasn’t about to waste time pondering it when she could be facing her last night on earth.

Strong arms possessively encircled her waist, rousing her from the isolation of her thoughts. Elizabeth allowed herself the luxury of relaxing back into Barbossa’s comforting embrace as he nuzzled at her hair. “Have dreamt of holdin’ ye thus since the first time ye set foot on me ship,” he whispered darkly. His chest rose and fell against her as he inhaled deeply, his hot breath on her neck making her shiver delightfully from head to toe. “Counted meself doubly cursed that I’d found a woman of such beauty, yet could savour neither the delicate touch of her hand nor the soft scent of her body back then.”

“And now? When you finally have me, my hands are marred with calluses and I reek of third-rate rum. What say you to that?” she challenged mischievously, glancing over her shoulder at him and noticing that he’d doffed both his hat and kerchief, leaving his head bare. The change in his appearance made her feel strangely shy, so unaccustomed was she to seeing him without the ever-present trappings of his position. Elizabeth turned her face away, hiding her odd discomfort by running her hands over the thick fabric of his coat sleeves.

Barbossa laughed and grasped her hips, spinning her around to face him so fast that she had to grab onto his coat to keep from stumbling. “I say, ‘Lizabeth Swann,” he drawled, his blue eyes narrowing as he gave her a salacious leer, “that t’would take a great deal more than a few blisters and the smell of cheap liquor to dampen me lust fer ye.”

“Is that so?” Elizabeth teased back, trying to shake off her childish hesitation as she wreathed his neck with her arms and forced herself to meet his eyes once more. She was disgusted by her own reticence, particularly when she’d already revealed her eagerness back at the hall. What did she think – that he would lie with her while he remained fully dressed, hat and all? Far more than his hat would be left behind before the night was through...

“Aye, that be so. ‘Course, if’n ye wish to avoid offendin’ me with the disagreeable stench of yer clothes, perhaps you’d best do away with them altogether.” He arched an eyebrow suggestively as he dragged his hand over her waist and up her torso, deftly flicking open the buttons of her vest with thumb and forefinger as he went. She held her breath as she watched him work, enthralled by the subtle yet swift progress of his hand as her heart raced with anxious anticipation.

As he unfastened the last button and separated the panels of her vest to reveal the flimsy shirt beneath, he lightly grazed her aching nipples. Elizabeth was startled by the unfamiliar shock of vivid sensation and instinctively stepped back, protectively folding her arms over her bosom before she even realized what she was doing. Barbossa’s brow furrowed in puzzlement for only a few moments before understanding dawned.

“Ah, girl,” he laughed softly, his arms dropping to his sides. “Ye had me fooled, what with all yer bold banter. As many a man as ye’ve had vyin’ fer yer favour, never once had I considered that ye might remain an innocent.”

“And so what if I am?” she retorted angrily, forcing herself to lower her arms. Her cheeks blazed hot with embarrassment and her eyes stung as if she might cry. For some reason, she couldn’t decide what to do with her hands and after some consternation, awkwardly settled them on her hips. “There must always be a first time...I didn’t think you would mind and I certainly didn’t think you would mock me for it.”

Barbossa’s grin disappeared, and his stare grew darker and more intense. “Ye misunderstand, ‘Lizabeth. Knowin’ that ye be untouched ain’t what ye might call a deterrent. Bein’ the first to see ye flushed with arousal, the first to bring ye true pleasure…what man could resist? ” He sighed, tilting her chin up so until their lips almost met and she had no choice but to look deeply into his blue eyes. “But ye should have told me straight off that ye’ve not yet been bedded. Such a situation calls fer more...care…than be me usual custom. I be a knave and a rogue, but I’d not have ye hurt or frightened as I take ye.”

“I’m not naïve, Captain,” she huffed, shoving his hand away. “I’m constantly surrounded by men of both unrestrained urges and the freedom to pursue them. There isn’t a lewd act I haven’t witnessed...and so the fact that I’ve not yet indulged my own desires doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of what is involved. You needn’t treat me like some swooning damsel.”

She moved to cross her arms over her chest again but he forestalled the defensive gesture by gently taking hold of her wrists. Despite some token resistance on her part, he gradually drew her closer until she was snuggled up against him, their bodies pressed together from breast to thigh in an inescapably licentious manner. “There be seein’, and then there be doin,” he muttered, leaning his hips against hers enough that she was patently aware of the impressive bulge of his arousal. “And while ‘tis true that ye’ve caught sight of ill-bred louts ruttin’ in dark corners like beasts, ye might as well be claimin’ that ye know the taste of fine French wine when ye’ve only ever sipped watery grog. A terrible misconception at best, but fortunately one easily remedied – by the right company.”

“And that would be you?” Had she not been so intrigued by the solid feel of him through her breeches, she might have laughed at his enduring arrogance.

“I suppose ye’ll have to weigh that fer yerself, missy, but I’ve not been found wantin’ before.” Barbossa lifted one of her hands to his mouth and delicately kissed her fingertips while pinning her with a searching, ardent gaze. The warm press of his lips was astonishingly sensual, and she couldn’t hold back a surprised gasp as his tongue darted out to lick at her fingers, the resulting tingles causing all the tiny hairs on her arm to rise up.

“I really have no basis for comparison, though.” It was getting increasingly more difficult to exchange clever remarks, mesmerized as she was with watching him delicately suck the tip of her pinkie in between his teeth. As he swirled his tongue around it in an entirely captivating way, he touched off sparks deep inside that left her legs weak and her mouth dry. “How will I know if you are the right company?”

After one last caress of his tongue, he slid her finger from his mouth and then brushed his lips lightly over her palm, tickling sensitive skin with his whiskers. “Trust me, ‘Lizabeth,” he promised, his voice low and his eyes shadowed with lust. “When I’m through with ye, ye’ll have no need to doubt it.”

He leaned into her, tenderly taking possession of her lips once more. The kiss started softly, all inquisitive exploration and subtle tasting, and Elizabeth found it profoundly stirring. With a ragged sigh of submission, she wove her arms around his waist and clung to him as he grew far more demanding, and she swiftly found herself short of breath and light-headed. When Will had kissed her, it had been with reverence and affection, but never had it left her feeling quite so dizzy - or quite so desired. Barbossa kissed her as though he craved nothing so much in life as the sweetness of her lips, the flavour of her mouth and the slickness of her tongue entwining with his.

Maybe she was a swooning damsel after all, she dazedly reflected as he gently ended the kiss and gazed at her from beneath eyelids at half mast. The world certainly seemed less stable, and whether it was from the lack of air or from his heated passion, she couldn’t say. Elizabeth only knew that she wanted something more…and she wanted it now.

“I would not draw away,” she pledged, happily lost in the swirling mists of her desire, “should you to wish to touch me again, Captain.”

He shook his head and gave her a wry look. “And so we be back to formalities? If’n ye want somethin’ from me, Cap’n Swann, then ye’ll be usin’ me given name. Heard ye say it back at the hall when first ye set out to seduce me, so I be fairly certain ye remember it well enough.”

Elizabeth blushed again, ashamed that her deeply engrained habit of thinking of him only as ‘Captain Barbossa’ had persisted even in such intimate circumstances. He was undoubtedly in command on the deck, but in the bed chamber, it was clear that he wanted to leave his rank behind and be spoken to as she would any lover. “Forgive me. Will you touch me…Hector?” she replied meekly.

“Nay, ye must say it as though t’were more than just a word,” he insisted gruffly, spearing his fingers into her hair and tugging until her scalp began to smart. “Say it as though ye were beggin’ me. As though ye’d not suffer havin’ any other man in the world layin’ his hands upon ye.”

While it should have hurt to have her hair pulled thusly, the mild pain somehow served only to enhance her physical longing. In that moment, Elizabeth discovered that she didn’t have to pretend anything - she needed him to touch her with such desperation that she was ready to tear off her clothes and deliver herself into his ready grasp. “Hector,” she whispered pleadingly, closing her eyes as she said his name the way she knew she should have from the beginning. “Hector...oh God, please touch me.”

He groaned unevenly, releasing her tresses and running his hands down the curve of her spine. Finding the swell of her buttocks, he shaped her pliant flesh with strong, greedy fingers. “Well, seein’ as ye asked so prettily, t’would make me naught but a scoundrel to disappoint ye now.”

Elizabeth seized his face in her hands and kissed him hard, ravaging his lips as she rolled her hips against his in an effort to relieve the heavy pulsing that had settled between her legs. Hector responded by clutching her more tightly against his groin, the rigid heat of which could not be disguised by the few layers of clothes that hampered their efforts.

“Give me all that you have to offer,” she murmured into his mouth, her fingers raking through the wavy bristles of his beard. “This...this isn’t enough.”

His expression as he drew back to look down at her was one of smug victory. “Long have I waited fer ye to say such a thin’ to me,” he whispered, working his hand up beneath her shirt so he could palm her breast and tease her throbbing nipple with his thumb. Rather than retreat as she had before, Elizabeth leaned into him and surrendered to a need so powerful she could barely begin to comprehend it.

His hand was a searing brand against her bare skin, its contact new and strange and overwhelming. When he flicked lightly at her nipple with his fingernails, she cried out and grabbed at his shoulders, both stunned and elated at the startling bursts such simple contact ignited deep in her body.

Hector trailed graceful fingers across her chest until he found and cupped her other breast just as firmly as he had the first. Elizabeth’s eyes closed and her head lolled back as she arched wantonly into his kneading grasp. Each time she took a harsh little breath, her erect nipple rubbed against the rough skin of his palm and grew tauter still. The sublime sensations that swept through her rendered her helpless, so much so that she swayed slightly on her feet.

Before her legs gave way altogether, he caught her around her waist with a sturdy arm. “T’was a damned fool of a man as let ye slip away,” he crooned as he walked her backwards to the alcove where she knew his bunk lay. “So sweet, so eager...he knew not what a prize he had.”

She didn’t want to think about anyone else, least of all Will Turner. It was so much easier to believe that for one night alone, there was only she and Hector Barbossa...a pair of lost souls finding comfort in their baser longings, with no commitment and no assumptions to cloud their lust. “I am no man’s prize – I choose my own fate,” she uttered hoarsely, caressing the solid planes of his chest and savouring the feel of the hard, whipcord muscle still so frustratingly hidden beneath his clothes. His heart drummed beneath her fingertips, its thundering pace belying his seemingly controlled demeanour. “And I might remind you that it was I who choose you tonight.”

“That ye did.” Hector pulled her into another kiss, prompting a needful moan as their lips melded and he sought her out deeply. Elizabeth grabbed the lapels of his coat and shoved it over his shoulders, anxious to find the warmth of his skin under her hands. He released her only long enough to shrug the coat off and let it slide to the worn planks at their feet. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned his waist coat as quickly as she could while he yanked impatiently at her vest, urgency building for both of them as they shuffled towards the small, curtained sleeping nook.

By the time he swept her through the fringed drapes and into the shadowy dimness of his bed chamber, their clothes had been strewn behind them, scattered in a haphazard trail across the cabin floor. Hector’s newly exposed flesh was hot against hers, almost as though he was gripped by fever. She gloried in the radiant warmth of his body as he embraced her passionately, crushing her breasts against his bare chest and pressing the fiery column of his sex insistently into the slight swell of her belly.

Elizabeth buried her face into the crook of his neck, taking in his bracingly masculine scent. He carried with him the wind-washed tang of the sea, the hint of leather, and the faint woodsy odour of the ship herself – but beneath it all, there was something more, a smell that beckoned to her on a purely feminine level. The more she breathed in it, the greater her need seemed to grow. It took her a while of losing herself in his scent to understand it was his arousal that was calling to hers, a primal summons that she could not help but answer.

Without warning, he shoved her back against the wall and trapped her with the weight of his body as he kissed her with fresh enthusiasm, his hands left free to explore her as he wished. With a low predatory growl, he slowly sculpted the contours of her ribs, the crescent of her waist and the slope of her hips as though he was painstakingly memorizing every inch of her skin.

Elizabeth slung her arms around his neck, her head lolling to the side as his lips tracked a hot, wet line along the line of her jaw and over the curve of her throat. A tiny, cool shiver shot through her whenever his mouth met her skin and she tightened her hold in expectation as his fingers stroked their way to the sparse nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs. Although he barely skimmed the coarse little hairs with his fingertips, something tightened deep within her at the feathery brush and she moaned in fervent need, wriggling her hips against his palm.

“Open yerself to me,” Hector insisted softly, gently but firmly wedging his knee between her legs until she complied. He raised his head so he could watch her as he pressed the heel of his hand against her mound, his eyes dark with wicked purpose and his nostrils flaring as he slid one long, elegant finger deep into her dusting of womanly hair and grazed the moist folds within.

The jolt of pleasure was so dazzling that she was dumbstruck. Sure that her heart would burst, she rose up on the tips of her toes as every muscle in her body constricted under the gradual onslaught. His finger barely moved, but the lazy circles he was tracing around her entrance and the delicious pressure he was applying to the tiny swelling above were devastatingly arousing. Her shaking hands tightened on his nape and she panted for air as the sensations grew almost unbearable in their intensity.

A sudden rush of terror caught her by surprise and her breath hitched in her lungs. No man had ever laid hands on her the way in this way, coaxing indecent cries of encouragement from her with every hungry touch. That someone as powerful as Hector Barbossa could wrest that control from her was frightening to say the least. She stared at him wide-eyed and sunk her nails into his shoulder, unable to speak and incapable of controlling her body’s traitorous reactions.

“Shhh,” Hector whispered soothingly, shaking his head and wincing only slightly as she cut painful red crescents into his skin. “No harm will come to ye at me hand. God knows I’ve given ye countless reasons not to trust me in the years since we first met, but in this I swear I’ll not fail ye. Let go and feel what it means to learn the mysteries of yer body. Give yerself over to me – but know that if ye ask, I’ll go no further.”

As his low, calming words flowed over her and she accepted that he would honour his pledge, her apprehension melted away. Elizabeth gradually relaxed and it wasn’t long before she found herself tilting her hips to meet his shameless caress. Flashing a quick smirk of satisfaction, he ducked his head and nuzzled at her breast, tugging her stiff nipple with his teeth until she thrust her chest forward, anxious for him to take more of her into his mouth. Her eyes rolled back as he enthusiastically accommodated her wordless demand and she slumped against the panelling, lost in the rising tide of bliss that moved through her with each pass of his lips and tongue and each skilled stroke of his finger.

Just as she believed she would surely splinter into a million sparkling pieces if he continued, Hector slowly withdrew his hand from between her legs and stood straight, leaving her confused and frustrated. As her eyes fluttered open and she focused on his face, the noise of protest she was about to make was cut short as his lips slanted over hers again. “So close ye be,” he purred, and she could feel his sly grin against her mouth. “Would ye have me stop?”

“No...no, please don’t,” she practically wept, trying her level best stay on her feet rather than slide down the wall into an overwhelmed heap. She clutched his shaggy braid in her hand to keep him from pulling away, holding tight as she kissed him, lingering on the generous curve of his bottom lip.

As she sampled his mouth, Hector smoothed the curved line of her spine with a silken caress that caused her to shiver anew. Curling his hands around the globes of her arse, he lifted her until her feet were no longer touching the boards. Instinct had her wrapping her legs around his waist, and they both groaned out loud as his impassioned manhood nudged against the threshold of her pulsing quim.

“Feel me, ‘Lizabeth,” he demanded, his lips parting in a gasp and his eyes squeezing tight. “Feel how ye make me burn!”

“Oh God, yessss!” she rasped, savagely rubbing herself against his unbelievably rigid length until he sucked in a hissing breath between his teeth. His cock bucked against her and she felt a trickle of wetness as her body prepared for his most welcome incursion.

They tumbled together onto the downy quilts on Hector’s bed, sinking into the sumptuous covers with arms and legs still entwined. He turned her onto her back and planted a hand on either side of her head, trapping her beneath him as his breath broke harshly over her face. His sea-blue eyes were wild and his arms shook as he fought to continue drawing out the exquisite torment.

“Be ye ready for me?” he ground out, hooking an arm beneath her knee and parting her legs further. “Are ye set to take from me all that ye’ve wrought?”

“You know I am,” she gasped tremulously, lifting her hips in offering. “Give me everything...take whatever you want. Just...just...please do something!”

His eyes narrowed and a slow grin crept over his face. “How’s about a kiss first?”

Had there been a dagger handy, Elizabeth might have been tempted to stab him repeatedly for prolonging her agony. What game was he playing at now? “Kiss me, then! Whatever pleases you!”

Willing to accede to whatever his whims might be in the hopes of eventually being granted fulfillment, she reached to draw his face down to hers. He shrugged off her hand, though, and gave her a devious smile as he shifted backwards on the bed. “Nay, not that kind of kiss,” he said wickedly, glancing pointedly between their bodies.

Too taken aback to respond immediately, Elizabeth watched in shocked surprise as he retreated, kissing, nipping, and licking a path over the tense muscles of her midriff. “Are...are you sure you want to do that?” she stammered, her ardour cooling slightly in the face of uncertainty. What he wanted to do to her seemed...well, it seemed unseemly! “Why? Why would you want to...kiss me...there?”

His beard brushed lightly over the soft skin of her inner thighs, and his breath puffed over her damp pussy as he chuckled. “Because there be no tastier confection, no exotic fruit so succulent as can match a woman’s own nectar.” His eyes fluttered closed and he inhaled deeply, causing her to flush from head to toe as her modesty belatedly flared to life. “Gods, but that’s good. I must have the sweetness of yer honey flowing o’er me tongue, girl.”

“Hector,” she warned in attempted dissuasion, her heart skipping in alarm as he laid his hand over top of her quim and spread his fingers so that he had unhindered access to her secret self. “I don’t...I don’t know that I can do this...”

He paid her no heed at all. “Such a pretty slit,” he murmured quietly, fingering her swollen petals with reverence. “Beautiful all over, ain’t ye? I knew ye would be, though. Heavenly perfection, me angel.”

Once more and despite her growing protests, her body strained under his touch and scorching need shot through her veins. “Please!” she begged. “This isn’t....it isn’t...OH!!!!”

Her hips jerked and her neck arched back as she screamed in unrepentant ecstasy as Hector tongued her mercilessly, seeking to drive her mad as he licked and sucked at her as though he was starving and she was his only means of sustenance. Elizabeth felt her body flowering with longing, seeking more and begging to be filled.

She panted out his name in short, helpless gasps as he diligently set about discovering what caused her to writhe under his delightful assault and what caused her to cry out most loudly. Why on earth had she ever hesitated when first he suggested doing this to her? She felt as tightly strung as a violin, with every gentle scrape threatening to break her apart entirely.

When he jabbed and flicked at the little pearl at the top of her cleft, her hips came up off the bed and Hector had to hold her down, his fingers clutching almost painfully as he forced her to lie still. She seized hold of the covers and twisted them until her fists hurt, the euphoria building in her like wind filling the sails of a fine ship. Tears spilled over her cheeks as she flew higher and higher, sure that her heart would simply stop from the perfect rapture of the moment.

With a sudden primitive roar, Hector flipped her onto her stomach and pushed her head down, his hand firm on the back of her neck until she stopped resisting. He used his thighs to push her up onto her knees and then cupped the core of her fervent heat in his hand, his fingers probing the tender entrance to her channel. With an animalistic snarl, she pushed back against him, wordlessly demanding that he fulfill the promise she could feel in the heavy, hot weight that was now nestled between her buttocks.

“Fergive me,” he groaned, worshipfully stroking her bottom with trembling fingertips. “I can withhold no longer.”

“Please, come into me!” Elizabeth beseeched, her voice cracking from raw emotion. She inched her knees further apart in invitation, desperate to relieve their needless anguish.

He gripped her hips hard and dragged her back until the blunt crown of his cock pushed through her slick folds. Taking himself in hand, he rubbed against her core again and again, coating his sex in the silken fluid that he had coaxed from her body. She held her breath, a rivulet of sweat sliding over her cheek as she quivered with erotic expectation.

Pausing, he leaned over top of her and stroked her back almost apologetically. “’Lizabeth, I will try me best to take ye with ease, but ye must know that yer first time...I cannot help what pain ye must endure as ye lose yer innocence.”

His reluctant forewarning prompted a response half way between a sob and a laugh. “What could be worse that being left on the edge like this? I need...oh, please...Hector...”

As the last syllable of his name left her lips, Hector slowly thrust into her, shifting side to side as he worked himself deeper. Although he’d barely begun to penetrate, Elizabeth gasped as he stretched her wide, her virgin sheath stinging with every inch he sank into her.

“Christ...’Lizabeth,” he rasped, his breath as sharp and hoarse as though he’d been running. His member twitched heavily within her, making them both moan. “A thousand times have I thought about how t’would feel to claim ye, but never could I have imagined...like velvet...so soft, so tight!”

Heat rushed over her skin but words failed her. She was right, he had wanted her – but he made it sound like so much more than a casual thought on a cold, lonely night. The thought made her ache, but it wasn’t just the consuming physical ache of lust; rather, there was also a dull pain deep in her chest that signalled her own loneliness...her understanding of what it was to want someone so badly only to be deprived.

She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip as despair threatened to ruin the moment. “More,” she choked out, forcing back everything but the enthralling feel of the man who was so caringly, so tenderly showing her what it meant to be consumed with pleasure. “Don’t hold back. I am not so delicate as you might think.”

Hector gave a soft, breathless laugh. “Still the firebrand,” he teased affectionately. “Ye needn’t always be a warrior, lass...t’is the woman I seek tonight.”

Reaching down to where their bodies were joined, he found her throbbing bud and pressed at it rhythmically with his fingertip. Every nerve in her body lit up as though she’d been struck by lightning and she mewled quietly, her hips swivelling in time with the tempo he’d set.

Abruptly, he plunged into her to the hilt and she felt a tearing flash of pain that was quickly forgotten in the midst of the delicious sensations surging through her nether regions. He was heat, he was stone...he filled her in a way she’d never dreamed possible and she instantly stilled, wanting to hold onto the feeling forever...

“’Lizabeth! Wake up!”

The harsh whisper intruded into her carnal dreamscape, and she murmured sleepily as she was forced half-aroused and annoyed from the most wonderful and deeply sensual memories she possessed.

A hand covered her mouth and Elizabeth’s eyes flew open as she started in panic. She clawed at the fingers until she realized it was Hector who was trying to ensure she wouldn’t make any noise when he roused her. He held a finger to his lips in warning and drew his hand away.

“What’s happening?” she breathed, her pulse racing from being awoken in such an unexpected way. Hector’s expression was deadly serious, letting her know instantly that something was definitely wrong.

“We’ve an intruder downstairs. Listen.”

They stared hard at one another and Elizabeth strained to hear above the rapid thud of her heartbeat. Perhaps it was just the creaking of the house...but no, there it was. Footfalls, doors opening and furniture being shifted about – the old floors on the main level kept few secrets. Whoever the person was, he or she was moving furtively from room to room, obviously searching for something...or someone.

“William?” she suggested in a hopeful whisper knowing even as she said it that the steps were far too heavy to be made by an eight year-old boy.

He shook his head, not bothering to waste words trying to dissuade her. He eased himself off the bed and crept soundlessly to where she’d tossed his breeches the night past, his own footsteps muffled by the rug. “Have ye any weapons at hand?” he asked as he tugged them on and fastened the buttons.

She nodded and tossed off the covers, pointing at the wardrobe before leaning over the edge of the bed to retrieve her gown. It had been ten years ashore and what seemed to be a lifetime since she last called herself ‘pirate,’ but she had never taken security for granted. A pistol, loaded with powder and shot, was always at the ready.

“Get to the boy and the two of ye stay put,” he murmured, all business as he checked that the powder in the barrel was dry enough to fire. “Lock the door behind ye and don’t ye come out ‘lessin I call fer ye.”

“The hell I will!” she hissed, standing up on the mattress and yanking on her gown. She knotted the sash with quick, jerky movements that left little mystery as to her feelings. “You forget who you are speaking to! I’m not letting you go down there alone!” Fear fed her anger – she didn’t just give Hector her heart only to lose him.

Hector turned on her, his blue eyes glinting dangerously and his lips pressed into a grim line. “Ye’ll do as I tell ye! What do ye suppose will become of our son if’n the worst should occur? Cold comfort will it be to know he’s alone in the world ‘cuz his mother hadn’t sense enough to keep her wits about her!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue but there was nothing to say. He was right – she’d spent eight years keeping William safe and happy, and as much as she loved Hector, she knew that she would never forgive herself if something happened to put their child in peril.

She swallowed back her tears and stretched out her hand to him, wanting at the very least to touch him before he went down to investigate whatever danger threatened. A low squeak from the stairwell caused both of them to freeze in place just as Hector’s hand enveloped hers.

It was too late.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Oooo...that's right! A cliff hanger! Mwahahahahaha!