Her Passionate Pirate

by Neesa Hart

  At his groan, she gave him a wry look. She was relatively pleased when her stomach flipped, but her heart kept a steady rhythm. Progress. “Care to stop in and guest lecture?”

  “I’m not crazy, you know.”

  Liza was patting his chest. Cora suppressed a burst of envy. “Aunt Cora says you’re taking us out,” Liza announced. “Can Benedict Bunny go?”

  “Of course,” he said. “We might run into that reporter, and we’d need Benedict Bunny to defend us.”

  Cora picked up her briefcase, stooped to kiss Molly, then ruffled Kaitlin’s hair. At least the girl didn’t pull away from her. “Have a good time today,” she said to no one in particular.

  Molly nodded. “We’ll be really good, Aunt Cora, I promise.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  She turned to press a kiss to Liza’s cheek, but the child ducked the instant before, and Rafael tipped his head in a move so perfectly timed she’d have sworn the two had rehearsed it. His lips covered hers in a brief, but intense kiss that had Molly and Liza giggling.

  “They’re kissing,” Liza announced.

  “Eeeew.” Molly added.

  Rafael lifted his head and winked at Cora. “We’ll see you when you get home,” he told her.

  She blinked. How did he do this to her? She glanced at Kaitlin, who was watching her with wary distrust. “Argh,” she muttered, and walked out the back door.

  CORA SAT AT THE DESK in her office later that morning and contemplated the new discovery she’d made about herself. Last night and again this morning, after Rafael had kissed her, she realized that she was suddenly aware of the feel of her clothes against her skin. It was as if every quivering cell in her body was waiting, yearning for the touch of his fingers. After they’d parted last night, it had taken hours for her flesh to cool down enough to prevent her sheets from chafing.

  Haunted by images of his sensual lips and his body spread on the burgundy sheets, she’d tortured herself until the small hours of the morning, searching diligently through her mind for the voice of reason that usually gave such excellent advice.

  It seemed to have fallen dormant when she most needed it. Where was the cautionary note warning her not to get in over her head? Where was the commonsense rationale that said he’d move on when the job was done—and possibly break her heart in the process? To her amazement and confusion, it seemed to be yielding to a stronger, more insistent voice that said she’d been left before and survived; and a life lived in fear is a life half-lived. When she considered the consequences of a broken heart and weighed them against the consequences of never knowing what it would be like to be his lover, a broken heart seemed a small price to pay.

  She rubbed her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. Abigail Conrad had thought like that—that much was clear from her diaries. Perhaps it was the other woman’s fervent descriptions of her affair that were wooing Cora to recklessness. Sometime since Rafael had arrived to tempt her with vivid images of Abigail’s pirate-lover, Cora had accepted that the man Abigail wrote about with such passion was, indeed, Juan Rodriguez del Flores. Abigail had burned for him with a desire that poured out across the pages of her journals. Together, the two had made magic. The chance to taste that magic, to feel its power, danced before Cora like a seasoned seducer, making her yearn.

  As a bead of sweat dripped from her forehead, Cora’s eyes popped open. Damn, she thought. It was making her yearn, all right, enough to have her temperature nearing the boiling point.

  She reined in her thoughts and began stuffing files into her briefcase. If she continued to let her mind spin off on flights of fancy—some of which, she admitted with a slight smile, were actually quite lurid—she’d soon be so far behind on her research and her class work that even Becky wouldn’t save her. Her class had gone well at least, though her concentration was shot. Somehow she couldn’t keep her attention on Sappho when a certain long-haired, barefoot swashbuckler kept intruding on her thoughts. Which, as it turned out, was just as well, since her students were a-twitter with the information that Rafael had moved into her house. She spent most of the hour and a half of class time answering questions about the Conrad diaries and dodging questions about Rafael personally. Her students had ribbed her mercilessly, but Cora felt she’d survived the experience with a decent amount of dignity intact.

  Now, however, as she scooped up the thick folder of news clippings Becky had left for her, she wondered how long she’d be able to keep that dignity. Quickly she flipped through the news clippings. Evidently she and her students weren’t the only ones who were preoccupied with Rafael. The entire world seemed to be fascinated.

  Rafael’s promise to manage the press had been more effective than she thought. She’d had only one phone call after the press conference. After that, her life had remained blissfully peaceful. She’d lulled herself into the secure feeling that he had everything under control, and that whatever statement he’d released had managed to assuage curiosity.

  That hope crashed down around her ears as she scanned the thick stack of clippings. He must have spent most of that afternoon giving interviews. The major newspapers had stories. The wire service had run a blurb about his new research project. According to Becky, the networks and both major cable news shows had given them airtime. And worst of all, she thought as she studied a full-color picture, they’d made the tabloids. The headline screamed, “Brilliant Archeologist now Pirate Nanny?” The picture showed him standing next to her at the podium. Somehow she didn’t remember him giving her that look that said, “Bed me”—not until this morning, anyway.

  The picture left a bad taste in her mouth, as if she’d just pinned her dirty laundry out on the line for all the world to see.

  A soft knock drew her attention from the photo. Expecting Becky, she glanced up to find Rafael’s reporter sister, Elena Dublin—she’d found the last name on her byline—standing in her open door.

  “May I come in?” Elena asked

  Cora’s eyebrows lifted. “Sure.”

  Elena crossed the small space with a confident stride that reminded Cora of Rafael’s own I-own-the-world grace. Dressed more casually today in jeans and a T-shirt, she was still a striking woman. Dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, and wide, almond-shaped eyes—by far her most striking feature—gave her an exotic beauty. She smiled at Cora. “I’m Elena Dublin.”

  Cora shook her hand and indicated the stack of news clippings with her other. “I read your article.”

  Elena nodded as she took the seat across from Cora’s desk. “Has Rafael told you—”

  “You’re his sister? Yes, he mentioned it.”

  “Oh, I’m glad.”

  “And I suppose I should apologize for the bludgeoning you took at the hands of Benedict Bunny.” Cora swept the clippings aside and placed her hands on her desk.

  Elena laughed. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I have eight sisters—believe me, I’ve had my share of beatings from stuffed animals.”

  The other woman’s easy charm reminded Cora of Rafael. If the entire family had this kind of grace, it was a wonder they hadn’t collectively taken over the world. “Still, Liza is, um…”

  “Precocious?”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Cora said dryly.

  Elena nodded, her expression sympathetic. “My sister Margie was like that—always had an opinion about things, and always wanted to make sure the rest of us knew it.”

  “Is she a politician?”

  “Actually she’s a librarian.” Elena continued with a slight smile, “I think it’s a control thing for her. She has power over who gets to use all the books.”

  Cora leaned back in her chair, the familiar creak of the ancient leather seat comforting. “So maybe there’s hope for Liza?”

  “I’m sure there is. And if anything, I’m the one who should be offering the apology.” Elena swept the fall of her dark hair over her shoulder. “No matter what it looked like, I didn’t mean to ambush the two of you.”


  Cora linked her hands in her lap. “I wouldn’t call it an ambush exactly,” she said.

  Elena winced. “It never occurred to me that Rafael wouldn’t be ready for the question. It always comes up when he’s doing anything remotely connected to del Flores or the Isabela.”

  “We didn’t have a lot of time to prepare a statement. Henry Willers called the press conference before Rafael and I had a chance to talk about our goals for the project. We were winging it.”

  “I learned that too late,” Elena confessed. “Although, I have to admit, I still would have asked. It is part of the story.”

  “You can understand why I’m concerned about bringing the shipwreck into this.”

  “Of course.”

  “And frankly, what Rafael told you is the truth. This really isn’t about the Isabela. Your brother is interested in the diaries because it’s the first chance he’s had to learn anything about Abigail Conrad. He’s hoping the diaries will shed some new light on the del Flores mystery, but the chances of them including anything about the shipwreck are limited.”

  Elena nodded. “I’m sure. But certainly, you don’t think that Rafael has released everything he knows about del Flores’s ship, do you? He’s hiding something. I don’t know what it is, but he knows something about it that he’s not telling.”

  “He’s not obligated to tell.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean it’s not news.”

  Cora studied her intent face. “Do you know what will happen,” she asked quietly, “if word gets out that your brother knows where that ship is?”

  Elena had the grace to look nonplussed. “I have to believe that Rafael can take care of himself. He’ll be first on that ship, I guarantee it.”

  “If the reported treasure were the only thing at stake, I’d be inclined to agree with you. But I don’t think he cares whether there’s a treasure aboard or not.”

  Elena’s eyes narrowed. “No?”

  Cora waved her hand in exasperation. “If you think he’s pursuing the wreck because of its potential financial—”

  Elena held out a hand to interrupt her. “I don’t. I never have. I just find it interesting that you don’t, either.”

  “Anyone who’s talked to him about—”

  “That’s just it.” Elena shook her head. “It’s a lot of work to get Rafael to talk about the Isabela—or anything else, for that matter.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Cora said with a small smile.

  “I’d like to know how you squeezed it out of him.”

  “I held him down while my niece beat him into submission with Benedict Bunny.”

  After a second of stunned silence, Elena laughed. “I’m glad to know my instincts about you were on target.”

  Cora wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Excuse me?”

  Elena checked her watch. “Look, it’s close to noon. Are you free for lunch by any chance?”

  Cora hesitated. “Is this personal or do you want an interview?”

  Elena shook her head. “Personal, I swear. I’ll even tell you up front that I want to pick your brain about my brother. He’s acting…a little different.”

  “Oh?”

  Elena sighed. “Actually weird is more like it. I just want to talk to you about it, you know—” she waved a hand between them “—girl talk.”

  A tremor of caution slid down Cora’s spine. “I’m not sure he’d appreciate that.”

  That made Elena laugh again. “Are you kidding? He’s got nine sisters. Our primary source of entertainment is gossiping about our brothers, and they all know it.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t think I get sister status, if you know what I mean.”

  Elena’s expression turned knowing. “Actually I think I know exactly what you mean. Which is why I want to talk to you.”

  Cora thought it over, then made a quick decision. A researcher at heart, the lure of talking to someone who knew him well was irresistible. She’d seen him as a scientist, a would-be lover and a friend to her nieces. Now she wanted to see who he was in the eyes of his family, and Elena could tell her. Carefully she said, “Do I have the right to pass on any question?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And it’s off-the-record?”

  Elena held our her hands. “No notebook. And you can check me for wires if you want.”

  Cora shook her head. “That’s not necessary.” She rose and reached for her purse. “Come on. I’ll show you Cape Marr.”

  Two hours later, having polished off a sinfully fattening dessert, Cora set down her water glass and gave Elena a shrewd look. “Okay, we’ve talked about your kids and my nieces, and your husband and my job, and your brothers and sisters. When are you going tell me what this is really about?”

  They were seated under the awning of a picturesque bistro in the downtown area. Today was one of those rare days when the ocean breeze and the shade protected Cape Marr from the blistering summer heat. Humidity was low, and the town was cluttered with people taking advantage of the climatic respite. Elena carefully placed her napkin on the table. “Rafael,” she said softly. “He’s my favorite of the four of them, you know?”

  “Your brothers?”

  “Yes. When you have thirteen kids in one family, you sort of form allegiances with one another. Everyone segregates into groups.”

  “And you picked his group?”

  “More like, we were our own group.” She traced her finger along the edge of her knife. “Our father left us when our youngest sister was born. Mama had to take care of all of us by herself and…things weren’t easy.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cora said gently.

  Elena managed a weak smile. “I was young, and I don’t think I really knew how bad things were—not like the older ones, anyway.” She sighed. “But Mama couldn’t take the long hours or the stress, and eventually it killed her. So, Zack was the oldest and he kept us together. I still don’t know how he did it, but thanks to him, we’re a very close family.”

  Briefly Cora thought of her own sister with a pang of bitterness. There were times when she would have given anything to feel that Lauren cared, or even wanted to care, about her the way Elena obviously cared about her siblings. She pushed the thought aside. “It must have been difficult,” she said quietly.

  “You can’t imagine. Social services, the government, the neighbors, everybody wanted to split us up and send us off to separate families.” Elena shook her head. “But you’d have to meet Zack to understand. He was like Daniel Boone at the Alamo—he was going to keep us under one roof or die trying.”

  “You’re lucky to have him.”

  “We are. I don’t think any of us even realized that until we were old enough to really appreciate what he did for us.” Her expression softened. “I know my husband, Danny, and I find it challenging enough to raise our three kids. Zack, well, he’s my hero.”

  Cora nodded. “I can see why.”

  “But Rafael—” the sparkle was back in her eyes “—he didn’t respond so well to Zack’s authority.”

  She could only imagine. “You’re kidding,” Cora said sarcastically.

  Elena chuckled. “So you’ve not noticed he’s not exactly a follow-the-leader kind of guy.”

  Cora couldn’t suppress a smile. “Yes.”

  “Anyway—” Elena waved her hands as she set aside the harsher memories and focused on the better ones “—Rafael and Zack didn’t see eye to eye about a lot of things, and Rafael left home early.”

  “Seventeen. He told me.”

  Elena’s eyebrows lifted. “He did?”

  “Uh-huh. He was in college and came down here that summer. That’s when he discovered the del Flores story.”

  “Did he tell you why he left?”

  “He mentioned that he and Zack didn’t get along.”

  “Really?”

  She sounded so skeptical that Cora looked at her, surprised. “There’s another reason?”

  “No, no, it’s not that. It’
s just that I’m surprised he told you.”

  “Oh?”

  Elena nodded. “Absolutely. Here’s the thing, Cora. Rafael is my brother and I love him to death, but he’s the most persistently private person I’ve ever known in my life. He doesn’t tell anyone anything personal. Not ever, as far as I can tell. That whole speech at the press conference—”

  “You mean the sea is like a woman?”

  “That’s the one.” Elena’s eyes danced. “Everybody else might fall for that, but it’s bull.”

  “So I gathered.”

  Elena studied her for a moment, then nodded. “You get it.”

  “I what?”

  “You get it. That’s what I thought.” Elena frowned as she considered her next words. “Rafael comes across as this really together, almost arrogant guy who keeps the world on a string.”

  “He’s not.” Cora said softly.

  “Not at all. What happened between him and Zack, well, it was really hard on everyone. They didn’t even speak for several years. Things are a little better now, but the two of them can still rub each other the wrong way on occasion. Rafael’s free spirit is just so alien to Zack.”

  “They were very young.”

  “And hotheaded, both of them. They both said things they regretted. Anyway, Rafael was old enough when our father left that he took it really hard. Then Mama died, and then he had that falling-out with Zack. To my knowledge, he’s never let anyone else get that close to him ever again. Even I don’t feel like I really know him sometimes.”

  “He cares for you a great deal.”

  “I know he does.” Elena pinned her with a piercing look. “But you—you’ve gotten to him.”

  The simple statement had a startling impact. “Why do you say that?”

  “It was obvious at the press conference. Probably not to anyone but me, but I know him well enough to see that he’s different with you.” Elena picked up her spoon and twirled it slowly between her fingers. “What has he told you about the Isabela?”

  “I think that would be one of those questions I’m not going to answer.”

  “Which is precisely my point. That means he’s told you something at least about del Flores and the ship, and why he finds the entire thing so intriguing. I’m pretty sure no one else knows. He’s never told me, anyway, and we’re close.”