May 20th, 2012:


When he continued to look at her with warmth and understanding, she hurried on, grateful she could talk frankly. “I do not fancy the killing and am sometimes fearful of the danger, but Captain Drake is not a cruel or violent man. Though we are not at war with Spain, England must do what she can to stay free from Spanish power. Our actions here in the Indies remind Spain that she does not rule all the world. Of course we will greatly profit from Spanish treasure, but so will our Queen.   Have I said too much? ‘Tis too late to change my words.  I do not feel I am with a Spanish enemy.” She stopped, embarrassed. She had said too much; why did she make such a fool of herself in front of him?

He laughed at her comment, charmed by her candid open manner and intelligent observations. “So you sense I am friend not foe? I could not tell for you would not speak to me these past days,” he teased.

She cleared her throat and gave a nervous giggle. What could she reply?

He said nothing for a few moments, letting his senses determine the mood and reveling in her company. “Will you give me your feminine name?”

She sighed and looked up into his kind handsome face. “Melaynie,” she whispered.

He smiled, gazing lovingly into her eyes. “A lovely name. You may desire a man’s experience, but I can tell you a woman’s role in life is the most valuable. And I can see you are a beautiful loving woman.” He took her hand from the rock, holding it between his hands on his lap.

“And your history?” she managed to stammer as she tried to calm her fluttering heart.

“I was born in Granada, once home to the Moors. My great-grandfather was a proud Moor, forced to convert to the Catholic Church when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella conquered us,” he paused, struggling to contain his sorrows. “I can fathom why the Africans feel such hatred toward the Spanish and their forceful ways. But one must adapt or die.” He took a long breath and continued more brightly. “I have made a career serving King Philip, which brings me here to meet you. How fortunate I am, for I have met no Spanish girl with your daring…or charm.”

She did not know how to answer him, and was grateful the darkness hid her blush, and the fiery sensations traversing her entire body.

Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed it softly. He placed her hand upon his shoulder and reached around her waist to draw her closer. A sigh escaped her lips, as she leaned toward him, putting her head upon his chest, taking in his intoxicating masculine smell. Moments later she drew back to gaze up at him and to read the love and passion in his eyes.

Their lips met, gently at first, savoring the salty-sweet taste of each other. Their lips parted as hungry desire took over, and the intensity of the kissing grew. Keeping one hand at her waist, his other hand tenderly traveled upwards to those small breasts he had once glimpsed in the candlelight. He pulled back to look at her. Her shirt was partly open, and she watched in anticipation as he delicately traced the hollow of her neck with his fingertips and then slid his hand down to the right breast. She drew in her breath and let out a small gasp as his fingers caressed the nipple to erection and then gently squeezed it.He repeated his erotic move with the other breast and nipple while it seemed to her that her blood was pulsing and vibrating as it traveled from between her legs down to the end of her toes. Throbbing with desire, she would let him have his way with her; a bolt of lightening would fail to stop her now.

There’s more to this scene, but you must buy the book on Amazon. The link is at the top of the blog page on the right.



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