Historical #4 - Bad Boys Ahoy! - Sylvia Day Page 0,1

the darkness of his skin betrayed how much time he spent outdoors. He was wild, untamed—a man of the elements.

She'd watched, fascinated, as he'd swept onto her ship and took command of it within moments. Phoenix had executed the attack with brilliant precision—not one man was seriously injured, and no one had been killed. Having spent most of her childhood on her father's ships, Olivia recognized skill when she saw it.

The way he'd used his sword and barked commands, the way loose tendrils of his hair had blown across his face, the way his breeches had delineated every stretch of his muscular thighs—she'd never experienced anything so thrilling. So exciting.

Until he'd touched her.

Then she'd discovered what excitement truly was.

Now she watched, mouth agape, as his long, elegant fingers went to the open collar of his shirt and plucked at the laces. Phoenix tugged the billowing linen from his breeches and drew it over his head.

"Good grief," she gasped, startled by the heat that tore through her veins and flushed her skin as his chest was revealed to her. Her breasts grew heavy, the tips aching.

Phoenix smiled, well aware of the effect he was having on her. His body moved with arrogant grace, powerful muscles rippling beneath tautly stretched skin.

Dark hair spread lightly over his chest, tapering to a fine line that traveled down his stomach to disappear beneath his waistband. His arms bulged as he shook out his shirt and stepped closer.

She'd never seen a bare-chested man. Even on her father's plantation, the workers were required to remain clothed, her doting father's way of shielding her Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!

maidenly sensibilities. Despite this lack of knowledge, she was certain no other male could claim Phoenix's magnificent form.

Olivia snapped her mouth shut and waited until he was close enough so she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. It took everything she had to resist touching him, to resist burying her face in his chest and breathing him in. He smelled wonderful, a sun-warmed and salted male in his prime. His hands came toward her, his hot gaze dropping to the exposed curve of her breast.

"Hell's teeth!" he growled as the edge of his blade met his aroused cock.

Incredulous, Phoenix looked down at her hand, then again at her face. He released a slow, wary breath. "I wouldn't recommend castrating me, sweetheart.

One of your duties, after all, is to bear my heirs."

She inhaled a shuddering breath. "I do not believe for even a moment, Captain, that you are Lord Merrick." But the idea was not distasteful. Romantic notions and girlish fantasies—

Phoenix met both of those and so much more. Her father would never have approved of this man, a pirate worlds apart from the carefully selected earl she'd been told to expect. The pirate would not be to any father's taste, but he suited her secret desire perfectly.

Phoenix's brow arched in sardonic amusement. "But you cannot be certain. Have you ever met your husband?" Her hand shook nervously, and he winced.

"Steady, love," he cautioned. "You may one day desire the appendage you are so grievously threatening."

"The only appendage of that nature I'll be desiring is my husband's," she retorted.

She watched his grin come back in full force, revealing a dimple on the left side of his lush mouth. How could a pirate have a dimple?

"I'm relieved to hear that." His voice was deep and seductive, purring like a Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!

predatory cat. "I wouldn't be agreeable to an adulterous wife."

"I am not your wife!" she snapped, flustered by his charm and her response to it.

"If what you say is true, then you are indeed my countess. And despite—," he shot a pointed glance at his blade, "—your charming introduction, you are not displeased with me as a spouse."

"How can you say that?"

"I didn't. Your nipples did. They are hard and aching for my touch, pressing so delightfully against the bodice of your gown."

With a horrified gasp, Olivia covered her breasts, and he easily plucked the wicked knife from her fingers. He handed her his shirt. "Here. Cover yourself until I can locate your trunks. I have no wish to display your bountiful charms to my men. We've been at sea for months, and their control is stretched." He eyed her appraisingly for a long moment and then chuckled. "Bold as you please," he murmured.

She stiffened, wondering if Phoenix found her deportment unappealing, and was disturbed to realize that she cared if he did. All of