Free A Pirate's Revenge (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix) by M.L. Guida Page B

wanted to bring a man home, never wanted him to touch her, never wanted to have him caress her bare skin. Until now.
    What was she doing? She had never kissed a man, not like this. Nothing that released the wanton passion buried deep inside her. What if she got caught?
    She sighed against him, and her hands moved under his shirt and down his back, his muscles rippling beneath her fingers. His naked skin excited her, and she liked caressing him, feeling his heat beneath her hands. William stirred passions she’d never known existed. His kiss deepened, his touch took her to exotic places and set her blood on fire.
    He released her, and she couldn’t breathe. Strong hands massaged her shoulders, and he pushed her onto her bed, forcing her to sit. “Mariah,” he whispered. “I can’t let you follow us.”
    She tilted her chin. “If you do not, I will board another ship and follow you.”
    He dropped his hands. “Palmer will find you.”
    “ Oui , he will. I shall be prepared to deal with him.”
    William ran his hand through his hair. “No, you won’t. Palmer’s a devil. You have no idea what he’ll do to you.”
    “He is torturing my brother. After Grand-mère and Grand-père , Lark is the only family I have left. I will not let him die. Not if I can help him. I am powerful, William. You will have to trust me.” She edged away from him. “If you do not mind, I need to pack.”
    He folded his arms across his chest. “There’s nothing I can do or say to change your mind?”
    “No, there is not.”
    “Fine.” He glowered. “Then, I shan’t let you out of my sight. Pack.”
    She avoided his angry prison guard stare and grabbed her velvet bag off the floor. She glanced around her room then focused on the three porcelain dolls sitting on her top shelf. Once she left this room, she would be facing a demon without Grand-mère , without her brother. Alone.
    She grabbed the black-haired porcelain doll, stroking the soft hair and inhaling the lavender scent before she placed it in the bag. 
    “Why the doll?”
    Mariah cleared her throat. “My parents made me it.”
    “And?”
    “My father carved it into my mother’s image, and she has my mother’s real hair. I just want to bring it. Do you have a problem with this, monsieur ?”
    He clasped her chin. “No, I don’t. How old were you when your mother died?”
    “Twelve.”
    “I was ten when I lost mine,” his voice was hushed and pained.
    He obviously had loved his mother as much as she’d loved hers, and her anger toward him melted. He leaned closer, and his warm breath brushed over her face. He kissed her. Closing her eyes, she leaned into him again, feeling his strength. His kiss deepened, and strong arms wrapped around her. She clutched him tighter, wanting him to believe that she was strong enough to face Zuto, needing him to believe in her before her self-doubt crushed her. 
    “William, we’ve got to be moving. Now.”
    Kane.
    William released her.  Heat rushed to her cheeks, and Mariah stepped away, hiding behind William’s tall frame. 
    “She’s still packing.”
    “Then have her pack. Now.”
    She rushed to her dresser and quickly packed her bag, making sure the doll was always on top. She grabbed her leather journal and her oak wand.
    “What is that?”
    “A wand. Oui , my father made it for me.”
    He snorted. “You think a wand is going to stop Zuto?”
    How could she be attracted to him one minute and the next want to dump a bucket of water over his skeptical head? She put her hands on hips. “Wands are powerful. Mandrake is inside the wand, and it will enhance any spell I use. The amethyst quartz at the tip heightens the energy in the ritual.”
    He folded his arms across his chest and cocked his eyebrow.
    She wanted to grab her wand and turn him into a bullfrog, but she was not that powerful. Rash emotions led to evil incantations, and she could not afford to make any mistakes. She took a cleansing breath to wash away the