In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) by Michelle Beattie Read Free Book Online

while you can, princess,” he muttered.
    *
    It wasn’t working! Sarah tried not to panic as she wove to the window where, after a cautious glance over her shoulder to ensure Sophia wasn’t looking, she poured her wine into the potted plant she’d brought up to her room weeks ago. It was the fifth such glass of wine she’d poured on the delicate purple flowers and though Sophia’s words were becoming slurred, the maid remained awake and alert.
    If Sophia didn’t fall asleep soon, Sarah would have to run down to the cellar for more wine. She never would have believed she would need five bottles of wine!
    With her empty glass in hand, Sarah spun from the window then feigned unsteadiness.
    “Oh my.” She giggled. “This does indeed make your head soft as a lamb. Let’s have more.” She filled Sophia’s near-empty glass then her own. Sarah sat on the bed next to her maid and waited until Sophia took a large mouthful before she rose her own glass and took the tiniest of sips. It tasted vile and she forced herself not to grimace as the flavor soured in her mouth. Truly she had no idea why people enjoyed it.
    “Tell me again, how you feel when you’re with Jacob,” Sarah coaxed.
    “Ah, miss, it’s the very fact that it’s forbidden that makes it all the more passionate and wonderful.” Excitement danced in her eyes as she took another gulp. “Stolen kisses in the dark are the best kind. And the touching”—she sighed and drank more—“it’s thrilling in the gardens, his hands on my flesh, our moans swallowed by the night.”
    Because she’d already heard this earlier, before their second bottle of wine, Sarah was more prepared for the clutch in her belly as she envisioned herself locked in a passionate kiss in the fragrant shadows of the garden. But if simply hearing about such scandalous activities made her heart race, her breasts feel fuller and a strange pulse beat between her legs, what must the real embrace feel like?
    Her glass empty, her maid flung herself on Sarah’s bed. “I love the feel of Jacob’s hands on me,” Sophia said as she trailed her own fingers over the swell of her bosom. “And when he lowers my gown and takes my breast in his mouth—”
    “His mouth!” Sarah’s hand jerked and wine spilled over the bodice of her gown. Though there was nobody else in the room she whispered, “His mouth?”
    Pushing up on her elbows, Sophia smiled. “Feel that trail of wine slipping between your breasts?”
    “Yes,” Sarah answered, already wiping it away with her hand.
    “Imagine a man’s mouth licking it away instead.” Then, as Sarah’s hand stilled over her cleavage, Sophia flopped onto her back and laughed. She was still cackling when, frowning, Sarah turned to the mirror.
    Her eyes were wide and her face flushed with embarrassment as her hand hovered over her décolletage. Did such things actually happen? Her thoughts churned and scandalous images filled her mind as Sarah finished wiping away the trickle of wine. Well, she’d wanted to know.
    She blew out a breath. She certainly did now.
    Realizing the room was suddenly quiet, Sarah looked over her shoulder. Her belly clutched for a whole other reason. Sophia’s eyes were closed. One hand held her empty wine glass over her belly while the other hung limp over the side of the bed. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, Sarah crept to the bed.
    Her maid’s mouth was open. Her chest rose and fell in a steady, quiet rhythm that spoke of sleep. Testing, Sarah eased the glass from Sophia’s softly curled fingers.
    “Sophia?” she whispered. No response. “Sophia.” She tried again, this time with a little nudge.
    Sophia sighed, turned her head to the side and remained asleep.
    Sarah bowed her head. Thank God. Then, looking down at her maid she thought, this was it. It was now or never. Wiping her palms on her skirt and hoping the little wine she’d consumed stayed in her stomach, Sarah blew out a breath and set to