Pleasing the Pirate: A Loveswept Historical Romance by Sharon Cullen Page B
Authors: Sharon Cullen
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would be so disappointed in her actions tonight.
She
was disappointed in her actions. She’d never acted like this, felt like this, wanted the things she wanted, ever.
And what a horrible time to be wanting and needing and yearning.
She snatched the garments he’d hastily placed on the stool. Frowning, she held out a pair of breeches and looked them up and down. This was not what she had in mind when Phin said he brought her clean clothes. She’d never worn breeches before. How did one even put on a pair of breeches?
She lowered the garment and looked at her wrinkled, damp gown flung carelessly on the floor. Most definitely she could not put that on again.
Well, nothing for it. She must do what needed to be done because she surely didn’t want to be caught in the sheet again. She stepped into the breeches and shimmied them over her thighs and hips. With nothing between her and the rough fabric she felt decadent and a wee bit uncomfortable. The seam rubbed a very sensitive spot. She attempted to adjust the fabric but it didn’t help.
Next she donned the shirt but discovered that without her stays her bosom was quite prominent. And the way the fabric rubbed against her nipples caused bolts of sensation to shoot through her and in turn caused them to stand erect.
No. This would not do. She could not go downstairs with her nipples in that condition. Every man down there would see.
She shrugged out of the shirt and donned her stays, grimacing because they were still damp from her near dunk in the ocean and now gray from days of wear. However, that wouldn’t do, either. She could now see the undergarment through the thin shirt.
Desperate, knowing Phin would walk in at any moment, she ripped it off, grabbed the sheet and with a silent apology to the proprietor, ripped the sheet into strips and bound her breasts. Ah, much better and the binding was much more comfortable than the stays. She could breathe and nothing poked her in awkward places.
Hurriedly she grabbed up her nasty gown and shoved it under the bed, not even wanting to know what forms of life lived under there. But neither did she want the gown—into which she’d sewn all of the money she possessed—in plain sight. She wished she could remove the money and stash it somewhere safer, but she didn’t have time.
Satisfied for now that she’d done the best she could, she walked to the door and suddenly stopped.
“Oh.” She took another step, then another and another, widening her stride with each step. Ooh, these breeches were comfortable. Yes, they still rubbed her in a most inappropriate manner, but the
freedom
, the lack of heavy skirts, of petticoats, was so liberating.
This would be so much better to wear when working out in the fields. Why did men keep this secret to themselves? She windmilled her arms and laughed softly at the exhilarating ease of movement.
Phin opened the door and stepped in. Mairi quickly dropped her arms and smiled sheepishly at him.
“When you said you’d brought clothing I didn’t expect this.” She plucked at the breeches and noticed that anyone could see the outline of her legs, not to mention her ankles.
Phin made a sound and swiped a hand down his face, cursing.
“Phin?”
“You are wondrous,” he whispered.
Her face heated in embarrassment and warmth. “ ’Tis nice of you to say even as I’m standing before you in men’s clothing.”
“No.
Because
you’re standing before me in men’s clothing.” He waved his hand in the air. “That didn’t sound right. I’m not attracted to men if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She smiled. “Well, I was wondering.”
“You were beautiful in just that damn sheet and now …” He made another strange, strangled sound and looked a wee bit bewildered. “I don’t know how I’m to keep you safe once we get downstairs.”
She smoothed the breeches over her hips. “I thought I was to look like a lad. Isn’t that the reason you gave me these
She
was disappointed in her actions. She’d never acted like this, felt like this, wanted the things she wanted, ever.
And what a horrible time to be wanting and needing and yearning.
She snatched the garments he’d hastily placed on the stool. Frowning, she held out a pair of breeches and looked them up and down. This was not what she had in mind when Phin said he brought her clean clothes. She’d never worn breeches before. How did one even put on a pair of breeches?
She lowered the garment and looked at her wrinkled, damp gown flung carelessly on the floor. Most definitely she could not put that on again.
Well, nothing for it. She must do what needed to be done because she surely didn’t want to be caught in the sheet again. She stepped into the breeches and shimmied them over her thighs and hips. With nothing between her and the rough fabric she felt decadent and a wee bit uncomfortable. The seam rubbed a very sensitive spot. She attempted to adjust the fabric but it didn’t help.
Next she donned the shirt but discovered that without her stays her bosom was quite prominent. And the way the fabric rubbed against her nipples caused bolts of sensation to shoot through her and in turn caused them to stand erect.
No. This would not do. She could not go downstairs with her nipples in that condition. Every man down there would see.
She shrugged out of the shirt and donned her stays, grimacing because they were still damp from her near dunk in the ocean and now gray from days of wear. However, that wouldn’t do, either. She could now see the undergarment through the thin shirt.
Desperate, knowing Phin would walk in at any moment, she ripped it off, grabbed the sheet and with a silent apology to the proprietor, ripped the sheet into strips and bound her breasts. Ah, much better and the binding was much more comfortable than the stays. She could breathe and nothing poked her in awkward places.
Hurriedly she grabbed up her nasty gown and shoved it under the bed, not even wanting to know what forms of life lived under there. But neither did she want the gown—into which she’d sewn all of the money she possessed—in plain sight. She wished she could remove the money and stash it somewhere safer, but she didn’t have time.
Satisfied for now that she’d done the best she could, she walked to the door and suddenly stopped.
“Oh.” She took another step, then another and another, widening her stride with each step. Ooh, these breeches were comfortable. Yes, they still rubbed her in a most inappropriate manner, but the
freedom
, the lack of heavy skirts, of petticoats, was so liberating.
This would be so much better to wear when working out in the fields. Why did men keep this secret to themselves? She windmilled her arms and laughed softly at the exhilarating ease of movement.
Phin opened the door and stepped in. Mairi quickly dropped her arms and smiled sheepishly at him.
“When you said you’d brought clothing I didn’t expect this.” She plucked at the breeches and noticed that anyone could see the outline of her legs, not to mention her ankles.
Phin made a sound and swiped a hand down his face, cursing.
“Phin?”
“You are wondrous,” he whispered.
Her face heated in embarrassment and warmth. “ ’Tis nice of you to say even as I’m standing before you in men’s clothing.”
“No.
Because
you’re standing before me in men’s clothing.” He waved his hand in the air. “That didn’t sound right. I’m not attracted to men if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She smiled. “Well, I was wondering.”
“You were beautiful in just that damn sheet and now …” He made another strange, strangled sound and looked a wee bit bewildered. “I don’t know how I’m to keep you safe once we get downstairs.”
She smoothed the breeches over her hips. “I thought I was to look like a lad. Isn’t that the reason you gave me these
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