“Black Hawk will get the money.”
“Not if a scalawag like yourself pockets the coin.”
The shadow snorted. “The pirate leader would have my head!”
“Aye, he’d be mighty piqued,” acquiesced Faraday. “But if you claimed my capt’n here reneged on the agreement, took the cargo, and disappeared, it’d be his head in peril.”
“I’m not going to swindle Black Hawk!”
“How do we know that? We don’t even know who you are! My capt’n doesn’t want a misunderstanding with the pirate leader. We either do business with Black Hawk or the meet is over.”
There was another round of whispering among the mysterious group of men. Soon, though, another shadow approached.
“Then let’s do business.”
Adam eyed the figure masked by darkness, listened to the baritone voice. Was it Black Hawk? He couldn’t be sure. It had been so many years.
Faraday lifted the tin lantern, prepared to drop it and give the signal.
Adam raised his hand to stop the lieutenant. “Not yet,” he whispered. He had to be certain it was the pirate lord. If the tars stormed the beach now, it would betray their true identities. And the real Black Hawk would lift tail and run.
“Are you Black Hawk?” said Adam.
The figure was still, black in shadow. “Aye.”
Adam took in a sharp breath, a mixture of fury for the dishonorable brigand and cheer to be rid of him in his breast. “Come forward with the cargo.”
But two other shadows hauled the crate of rum instead.
Adam cursed under his breath. He eyed the flasks. “They look to be in good order.”
“The blunt,” said Black Hawk.
Adam nodded to Faraday.
The lieutenant tossed the purse.
Black Hawk captured the coins. He opened the satchel, lifted a piece of gold to his lips, and bit.
The pirate leader laughed. “Good doing business with you, Capt’n.”
Footsteps retreated.
“Capt’n,” whispered Faraday, eager to drop the lamp. “Shall I give the signal?”
“Wait, Lieutenant.” Then Adam shouted, “Shall we shake hands, Black Hawk?”
The pirate leader paused.
Adam had to see his face; he had to be sure it was Black Hawk.
After a moment of quiet, the shadow shrugged. “Why not?”
Black Hawk approached.
Adam did, too.
Faraday readied the lantern.
“Perhaps we will meet again, Capt’n.”
The pirate stretched out his hand, stepped into the dim light…
Adam seized his wrist, recovered the pistol from his back, and aimed it at the man’s head.
An uproar followed, the band of rogues advancing.
“Don’t move,” Adam ordered the shadows, “or I’ll shoot him!”
“Capt’n!” Faraday cried.
“It’s not him, Lieutenant!” Adam cocked the pistol, pointed it right between the charlatan’s eyes. “Who are you?”
“Black Hawk.”
“Horseshit!” Adam barked. “Who are you really?”
Adam was livid. He had chased the dastardly buccaneer for almost four years. He had ventured away from Evelyn to apprehend the brigand at last. And he had found a fraud in the pirate leader’s place!
“Where is Black Hawk?” Adam pressed the pistol to the impostor’s brow. “Tell me.”
“I am—”
“Don’t lie to me,” growled Adam. “I know what he looks like. I had the misfortune to be divested of my personal possessions by the rogue pirate and his crew, so don’t sham me!”
The trickster hesitated, clearly at a disadvantage. After a few stressful seconds, he sighed. “Very well. I’m not the pirate leader.”
“I know that,” Adam gritted. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Hagley.”
Adam eyed the miscreant. “Where is Black Hawk?”
“Dead.”
Adam sucked in a sharp breath at the stinging news. He was too late. The pirate rogue was already gone. “Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know he’s dead?”
Hagley shrugged. “Well, there are stories—”
“Damn the stories!” cried Adam.
The corsair was like a ghost. Some whispered he had sailed away to hunt distant waters. Others believed him dead and trolling the nether regions of the earth. Adam believed neither tale. Black Hawk was an accomplished cutthroat. He was just good at hiding.
“Why do you think he’s dead, Hagley?”
“Well, he must be dead. Otherwise where has he been all these years?”
Where indeed?
“And you’ve decided to take the villain’s place, is that it?” said Adam.
The scoundrel grinned. “Aye. It’s not easy to become the most feared buccaneer on the high seas. I figured, if the pirate leader don’t need it no more, why shouldn’t I take the title?”
Adam shouted another obscenity, turned on his heels, and stalked away.
“Don’t you want your cargo, Capt’n?” Hagley shouted.
“Keep it!”
Faraday fell in step beside Adam, limping. “Capt’n, what are we going to do now?”
“It’s over, Lieutenant.” He tucked the pistol back inside his trousers. “We lost our target. Go into the hills and tell the men to stand down, return to the ship.”
“Aye, Capt’n.” Faraday lifted the lantern. “Where are you going?”
“Home!”
An hour later, Adam was back at the cottage. It was well after midnight, but he was too riled up to sleep. He peeked inside the cottage through a window to see Evelyn resting in bed before he stalked the garden in lanky strides, deep in thought.
“Blast it!”
He had failed Tess. Again! Failed to capture the dastardly brigand as he had vowed.
It boiled Adam’s innards to think the real Black Hawk was still on the loose. Where was the mangy devil?
Adam kicked a garden stone and sent it into a nearby tree.
He didn’t believe for one moment the infamous pirate was dead. Where was the body? Surely the carcass of the notorious buccaneer was a prize worthy of public display?
But if he had perished in battle? Then where was the ship and crew responsible for the pirate’s demise? It would be a victory worthy of celebration.
No. Black Hawk was a gifted cutthroat. He had ravished the sea for years. The villain was just hiding, resting. He would surface again.
There was too much notoriety surrounding the ill-famed pirate leader. Enough to hang him if he made a reckless mistake. A brief surcease in piracy offered the corsair a chance to escape the law’s wrath. The navy might give up the pursuit, think the rogue dead—just as that charlatan Hagley believed. No one wanted to hound a ghost at sea. And all Black Hawk had to do was quietly enjoy the fruits of his spoils for a few years, and steer clear of trouble.
But Adam wasn’t going to give up the pursuit.
Ever.
He would see Black Hawk and the rest of the pirates on the gallows if he had to dedicate the remainder of his life to the chore of chasing the devil.
The blade sliced air.
Adam veered quickly. The tip of the rapier nicked his cheek, though; he could feel the blood.
He grabbed the shadow, knocked the blade from its grip—and stilled.
“Evie?”
She gasped. “Adam, is that you?”
“Evie, what the devil do you think you’re doing?”
She was shaking. “I heard a voice, a noise. I thought…”
The panic, the fright in her speech were hard to miss. He relaxed his brutal hold, gathered the woman into his arms.
A heat filled him at the firm body in his embrace, so round and feminine—and scantily attired. He stroked her bare arms. She was in a shift: a light and fluffy and meager shift.
Voice strangled, he said, “It’s all right.�
��
“I’m so sorry, Adam.”
“Don’t be.”
“But I could have killed you!”
He shushed her, stroked the long locks of her hair in comfort. “I’m proud of you.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of yourself.”
“But I made a miserable mistake!”
“You didn’t know it was me.” He inhaled the tangy scent of lemon soap, let it fill his senses. “You can protect yourself, don’t you see?”
“Did I hurt you?”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“Oh, Adam.” She reached for his face, cupped his cheeks. Her fingers trembled as she brushed them across his rough skin, wiping away the blood. “Forgive me.”
He was rapt by her tender touch. “There’s nothing to forgive. I was a reckless fool to storm back here and startle you. I apologize.”
She pressed her thumb to his cheek to stave off the light flow of blood. Her other hand whisked across his other cheek, searching, exploring.
“Why did you storm back here?” she said. “What happened?”
He could feel her timidity as she caressed him, her curiosity, too. She moved her fingers down the side of his face—and he let her do it.
He closed his eyes, took in the rich waft of citrus fragrance. His heart throbbed at the supple way she rubbed against him, her soft breasts brushing his chest as she stroked his jaw in avid appraisal.
“I failed,” he said, his voice a rasp. “I failed to fulfill my vow.”
“I don’t understand.”
How he ached for a woman’s touch! It rumbled deep inside him, the forgotten need. And Evelyn’s feminine fingertips ignited that burning desire in the very depths of his lonely soul.
“I can’t explain, Evie.”
In a feather stroke, she swept her fingers across his lips.
It was more than Adam could bear. He dropped his head with a groan and took her sweet mouth into his own.
Evelyn was overwhelmed. A blast of sensation coursed through her blood, her bones, stunning her. She stilled in Adam’s hot and hard embrace, let his mouth move over hers in fervid strokes.
The muscles in her breast tightened. A pulse thumped loud in her ears, drowning out the stormy swell of the sea, the chirping night critters.
So lonely for so long, she felt the intimate touch and taste of him fill her with strength and heat, and she greedily devoured the balm he offered with a kiss.
A kiss.
It was not the gruesome experience her sister had talked about in her letters…It was thrilling. Invigorating. She opened her mouth for more, gasped when he slipped his moist tongue across her upper lip, licking her, caressing her.
Again his mouth moved hard across hers. Tendrils of warmth wrapped around her loins, a pulsing heat—a wetness—invading her nether region in the most sensuous way. It alarmed her…excited her.
Evelyn hugged him, afraid to lose the wonderful closeness she shared with him. He didn’t protest. He slipped his hand into the thick tresses of her hair to direct the tempo of the kiss, to keep it spirited and strong.
Evelyn pinched his shoulder, his neck in a return embrace. She was lost in the zeal of the fiery kiss. The heady passion was like a spell, charming her.
“Oh, Evie.”
Adam’s hand moved across the curve of her spine, making her shiver—and ache. She ached in the most wondrous way at his artful touch, his rugged words.
His hand slipped down her arching back, lower and lower. She quivered at the feel of stalwart fingers against her backside, kneading the supple flesh of her posterior.
But when he pressed her closer to his midriff, and she sensed the hard prick of his manhood, she tensed.
The spell broke.
Her hesitation, her resistance must have been palpable. Adam quickly let go of her lips, removed his hands from her flesh as if she had burned him.
Bemused, Evelyn blinked a few times, searching for clarity, her wits.
But all she could hear was Adam’s rough breath, a sensuous reminder of the scorching kiss they had shared—and that she had craved.
“Go back inside the cottage, Evie.”
Sound advice.
Evelyn didn’t quarrel with the man. He was still a formidable figure in the shadows, one with a magical touch. She might find herself in his embrace once more.
She didn’t mind the thought.
She should.
Evelyn lifted the hem of her shift and skirted away. Once inside the shelter of the cottage, she curled under the comforting covers of the bed and willed her wild heart to beat at a steadier pace.
She was so confused. The kiss, so delightful, had offered her a moment of bliss. A moment to forget her troubles and connect with another soul in a way she had never connected before.
But Adam was a man. If she found herself tangled together with him in a sinful way, he would hurt her. The way he had hurt her sister.
Evelyn still remembered the frightful letters Ella had written, warning her about the marriage bed and what transpired between the sexes. She didn’t want to have that kind of an experience.
But the kiss?
Evelyn touched her swollen lips in memory. She would cherish the kiss.
Always.
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep…but a nagging thought intruded upon her dreamy reflections. Why had Adam kissed her?
He had offered to protect her. But was it all a scheme? Did he secretly want to abuse and take advantage of her like all the others?
Evelyn had struggled hard to escape the tyranny of her father, the wickedness of Vadik. Was she now under another man’s autocratic hold? Adam did have a tantalizing pull over her—more so after the kiss!
Evelyn lifted her fist to her lips in quiet distress.
How was she going to learn the truth?
Chapter 12
Adam couldn’t sleep. He walked along the beach, listening to the soft and lyrical swell of the tide. He stroked his ring finger, searching for the wedding band.
But it was not there.
He looked down at his empty hand. He had lost the gold band at sea—on the night Tess had perished.
Adam stopped rubbing his finger and closed his eyes. He reflected upon his wedding six years ago: a majestic occasion. It’d been the happiest day of his life. Even his scandalous brother, the Duke of Wembury, had arrived sober to the ceremony. With his family, the ton at large in attendance, he had vowed to forever honor his beloved Teresa.
But tonight he had broken his promise to be faithful to Tess; he had kissed another woman.
Evelyn.
Adam opened his eyes and blinked to clear the watery image of Evelyn from his mind. She had touched a lonely place in his soul, stirring him. A carnal place, too, for the memory of her plump lips and tender touch scorched his blood even now.
And the guilt was overwhelming.
Adam bowed his head in shame. He had enjoyed the kiss, so much so that he ached deep inside to taste Evelyn again. And that she’d offered him her lips without protest, that she had kissed him with an equally frantic desire, revived him from his ascetic existence. Even the thrill of chasing Black Hawk did not match the balmy sweetness of Evelyn’s mouth against his.
He had betrayed Tess.
There was an odd odor in the air.
Adam sniffed the sea breeze. It smelled like…smoke.
He swiftly sprinted across the beach, scaled the grassy knoll—and chilled.
The cottage was on fire!
“Evie!”
Adam bounded toward the abode, pounding across the grass in long and desperate strides.
Thick smoke curled and wafted through the humid night air as the fire quickly spread, the wood structure an inferno.
Adam rounded the front of the blazing cottage. As he neared the door, he heard the scuffle, the choking cries.
A devil had Evelyn in a tangle of limbs. He was dragging her through the smoke, his meaty forearm pinned u
nder her chin.
Adam snapped.
He grabbed the brute with savage energy, and cracked him right between the eyes. The oaf slumped to the ground unconscious.
A weak Evelyn dropped to the dirt, too. Adam knelt beside her, cradled her in his arms.
“Evie!”
She sputtered and coughed wildly, and he let out a shout of relief to hear her muddled cries.
She was still alive!
The woman’s tears stained his wrist; her lips parted in a silent wail. After a few strangled gasps, she let out a wretched sob, so heartfelt, it pierced Adam’s soul.
But Adam had no time to comfort a distraught Evelyn further. Two more devils moved through the smoke just then, wicked apparitions aglow in the firelight.
Filled with a rabid desire to protect the woman in his arms, Adam reached for the pistol still tucked behind his back. He aimed. But the villain pounced, knocked the gun clear out of his grip.
The other fiend snatched Evelyn.
She screamed, “Adam!”
Adam roared amid the chaos, struggled with the zealous scoundrel keeping him from Evelyn. The man was a formidable brute. He pinched Adam’s elbows behind his back, forcing the arms to dislocate at the shoulders.
Adam girded against the pain, thrust all his strength, his power forward to counterbalance the devil’s debilitating hold.
He had to get to Evie!
Sweat burned in Adam’s eyes, the heat from the flaming cottage intense. He couldn’t see Evelyn anymore, but he could hear her hollers. They ripped him in two, her frantic cries.
“Evie!” Adam shouted. “Fight him!”
One more villain approached. Outnumbered, Adam was crushed beneath the load of two bodies, his breath scarce, his arms weak and numb. A hard stab of knuckles to the lower back sparked in Adam a devastating spasm, crippling him for a moment, making him faint.
The gun.
Adam could see the pistol, the metal luminous under the raging glow of fire. Trapped under a heap of bodies, the confusion great, he managed to maneuver an arm and recover the weapon.
A shot rang out.
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