Wrong Kind of Paradise

by Suzie Grant

  The wind created a hollow whine as it blew through the short tunnel into the cove. One seaman helped her

  from the tiny vessel. She glanced back as Blac stepped up behind her. His hand immediately went to the

  small of her back and somewhere inside she tingled at the attention. He dwarfed her petite frame and yet

  he was still so gentle.

  He led her down the docks and a path cut sharply to the west. “It’s a pretty decent walk, so don’t

  dawdle,” he said.

  He held a short, curved scimitar and as the terrain steepened, he cut at the overlapping brush and

  branches. The sand soon gave way to white rock and it crunched beneath their feet. The cavalcade

  traveled up the pathway. The right side cut away to a vertical drop, littered with various sized boulders.

  The pathway became so narrow, they were forced to walk in a straight line against the rock wall.

  Her hands shook and she squeezed them closed. A small patter of fear slid through her. She’d never

  been this high before. Don’t look down. As they ascended the cliff, the ship below them in the harbor

  grew smaller and smaller.

  Terror increased her heart rate until it thundered in her ears. Even the birds ceased to chatter and

  the roar of her blood pounded through her veins.

  Angel’s sweaty hands brushed against the gritty feel of the rock behind her, and she tried not to look

  down. Blac paused and waited for her. He reached out to her and she took his hand, peering up at him.

  Her foot slipped on the loose rocks and a cry escaped her.

  Blac’s hand clasped her wrist and jerked her to him. Both of her arms went around his neck and she

  clutched him closer. She slammed her eyes shut and panted, unable to grasp a full breath. He patted her

  back and rested his chin atop her head. “You’re safe,” he whispered against her brow, the brush of breath

  tickling the hair at her temple.

  I don’t want to let him go.

  One of his crew cleared his throat awkwardly and she nodded her thanks as heat scalded her cheeks

  before she continued up the trail. Blac fell into step behind her.

  Sweat ran down her face and made her shirt stick to her back. She could use a bath. Hopefully,

  there would be a place to bathe here on Blac’s Isle of Serenity.

  Would he lock her up so she wouldn’t be able to explore this lush paradise? She certainly hoped

  not. She couldn’t wait to see what little treasures she might find.

  Stagnant air choked off the passage to her lungs with each step. She heaved in a breath and exhaled.

  “How much farther?” she asked.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Just like an impatient child. You’ll never change, Angel.” He

  nodded to the top of the cliff. “That’s where we’re headed, so it’s not too much further.”

  She snorted. “Not too much further...”

  The ground changed from a gritty, flat pathway to a rocky incline. Her steps grew larger. She held

  onto the side of the cliff and climbed up onto the extended rock. A hand urged her forward and pushed her

  up to the next level. When she glanced back, Blac’s gaze was fastened onto her backside. She grinned. He

  was still attracted to her, and yet he fought it so hard. If only he’d let go of his reservations and see her as

  a woman rather than Logan’s little girl.

  “Is this the only way up?” she asked him.

  He shook his head. “It’s the quickest. There’s another inlet to the north of us where the pathway is

  much larger, large enough for wagons, but it’s a good trek around the edge of the isle.”

  She couldn’t imagine anything taking longer than this. The isle didn’t look that big, at first glance.

  The path expanded into a plateau which crowned a small, bustling village. Angel’s eyes widened as she

  took in the scene. It boasted only a single street, lined with several A-framed wooden buildings.

  The pathway turned into a cobblestone road. Angel stepped around a man carrying a barrel as a

  sudden squeal drew her attention. A woman with dark hair ran toward them. One of Blac’s crewmen

  separated from the crowd and lifted the woman clear off her feet in a hug.

  Angel found herself staring as the two kissed and whispered to each other. She blushed and looked

  away, only to find Blac’s turbulent gaze on her.

  “There’s a village up here?” Surprise widened her gaze as she glanced around.

  “Yes.” He grinned. “We have a sort of feudal system here. My men each own a plot of land and

  work the plantation in exchange for their service on my ship. They also turn over a small percentage of

  their profits to me. Everything else they keep, as well as whatever they make aboard the Revenge. Many

  of them have grown rather prosperous, taken wives, had children, and live here when not at sea.”

  She formed an O with her mouth but no sound came out. A dog barked and chased a young boy

  around a corner, and a wagon rolled down the lane. The sound of a blacksmith’s hammer rang in the

  afternoon air.

  Blac pointed to the building on their left. “That’s old man Furgus’s son. He’s our local blacksmith,

  and a damn good one too.” He motioned to the right and said, “Rycliff’s wife and daughters own the

  bakery and supply our bread. We have a metal smith, a tavern, general store, and a dairy. We also quarry

  our own limestone. It’s run by some of the local tribes with whom we trade.”

  Pride emanated from his gaze as he pointed out the different people and buildings. “We could be

  self sufficient here if needed. The plantation grows sugar, bananas, and almonds, and we raise cattle and

  pigs.”

  They neared the livery, and a young boy exited the building holding the reins of a beautiful, black

  stallion. Blac rested a hand on the horse’s neck and greeted him. “I’ve missed you, Obsidian. How’ve you

  been?”

  The horse shook his great head and whinnied in answer. Blac laughed softly. “I promise I will be

  here for the next few weeks, and I’ll be sure to take you riding every day. Don’t punish me for negligence

  quite yet, old friend.”

  Angel laughed when the horse nodded his great head as if in agreement. Blac mounted and held a

  hand down to Angel.

  The next few weeks? But why?

  She didn’t get time to ask as she climbed up behind him and they left the rest of the crew. They

  followed a dirt path away from the town headed north. Quaint, little cottages lined the pathway. Children

  raced through the yards and waved at them. Angel grinned and fell in love with Blac’s isle.

  It wasn’t long before the plantation house came into view. The limestone structure stood two stories

  high with a white wraparound porch and veranda. Tall palms and almond trees littered the front yard, and

  brightly colored carnations and orchids fronted the porch.

  Her heart squeezed at the tranquility here. It was perfect.

  Dismounting, the front jalousie-shuttered door opened to reveal a young, dark-skinned native

  woman. “Welcome home, Cap’n Barclay.”

  “Baina, have you fared well?”

  Dark eyes rested on Angel as she nodded. “We had a big storm but all is well. Was your trip

  prosperous, Cap’n?”

  “Aye, I’ve acquired what I sought.”Angel didn’t glance at him but he spoke of her. What did he

  mean?

  “That is good then. I will have supper ready by seven.”

  Blac held open the door for both women to enter. The shuttered door sprang shut behind them
. The

  hall opened to a beautiful dual staircase with banisters made of rich mahogany wood. The limestone

  bricks had been coated with plaster and whitewashed to a blinding hue. There were six doorways beyond

  the stairs, and Baina disappeared through the doorway to the left.

  “So you own slaves?”

  “No.” Blac led her up the flight of steps and to the second door to the left. “Everyone here is paid

  with either shillings or trade. Baina has seven siblings she must feed, so I feed them and she takes care of

  my home.”

  “Oh.”

  “She and her family lived on Jamaica, and I brought her here with me several years ago. She’s yet

  to complain and her siblings are a joy to have around. I am sure you’ll run into one or two during your

  stay.”

  Angel gave him a sideways glance. He didn’t mind children? Was that pride she saw? How

  strange to think of Blac with children. But how endearing as well.

  An image of a dark-headed baby flashed in her mind, and an ache settled in the pit of her stomach.

  Her dream of marrying Blac and having children seemed as distant as ever.

  He swung open a door and she entered. The bedroom was bland in color, white walls, a white, lace

  coverlet draped over the bed, and white lace curtains adorned the shuttered windows. But the jalousie

  doors opened onto the veranda and the view of the rear of the house took her breath away.

  Lush rain forest interrupted the grassland just before the colossal grey mountain peak jutted from the

  center of the island. Beyond stretched an endless expanse of ocean and azure sky.

  Breathtaking.

  ~*~

  “Amazing isn’t it?” Blac grinned. A welling pride sprang inside his chest as Angel crossed to the

  veranda door to peer out at the view beyond.

  “How did you find this place?” she whispered.

  He scooted past her onto the veranda and sat in one of the wicker chairs, leaning back with a sigh.

  “I have to thank your father for that one.”

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “How so?”

  “Your father and I go way back.” With a hand he indicated for her to join him. “We were

  midshipman aboard the HMS Aberdeen under Captain Wythecliff. He had been there of course a bit

  longer than me, as I’d just hired on. I was a lad of eight and your father was fifteen. He took me in and

  showed me the ropes until he graduated to officer rank.”

  Memories assailed him of his younger years. A boy of eight faced with the responsibility of taking

  care of his family, while the rest of his friends were still playing soldiers. Suddenly, he had to become

  one — the youngest member of the crew, forced to hide any fear. Logan had understood him without

  saying as much. And Blac had been glad for the company.

  “I didn’t see him again for many years. Next time I saw him, he flew the Jolly Roger.” He turned to

  her and folded his hands. “I had acquired my own ship by then, the Enforcer. I was about four-and-twenty.

  We met on the opposite ends of cannon, and after a brutal battle —” he sighed —“he won.”

  She scooted around him and settled into the chair next to him with wide eyes. “Really?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I watched her sink into the folds of the ocean just off this shore, to the north of here

  as a matter of fact.”

  She frowned. “Then how did you become friends?”

  He chuckled. “I had resigned myself to go down with my ship, but his men fished me out of the

  water. My crew and I, what was left of them, were taken prisoner. A musket ball gravely wounded my

  side. Logan took me to his isle and nursed me back to health.”

  And I owe him my life. Yet, I can’t seem to keep my hands off his daughter. What kind of friend

  am I?

  Angel clapped. “Oh, I remember now. I was twelve. It was the first time we met.”

  He nodded. “I lived on your island for close to two years.”

  “Two and half years,” she corrected.

  “He ransomed me back to the English. My father, of course, paid the money. That’s when I learned

  about the exorbitant bounty on Logan’s head.” He sighed. “I was forced to betray him, you know.”

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve betrayed him?”

  “I haven’t betrayed him this time,” he corrected with a frown. “My father was minor competition

  for Worthington Shipping Industries. It was run by a Viscount Brackley. My family had always struggled.

  It’s why I went into the Navy so early. Someone had to pull my family out of the incredible debt we’d

  gotten ourselves into. Brackley came to me and threatened my father’s business if I didn’t give up your

  father’s location.”

  “And you did?”

  He nodded. “I had to. My family’s existence depended on it...but I switched the longitude and

  latitude. Not being a navy man, I’m certain he didn’t figure it out until it was too late. I set sail to warn

  your father of the viscount’s interest. Logan didn’t seem surprised at all. I got the feeling that the two had

  a long history, but I never did figure out what happened between them.”

  “What happened to your father?”

  He shrugged. “I knew that the viscount would ruin my father anyway. He knew of my father’s

  weakness for gambling. My father owed the Viscount large amounts of money but died before he could

  pay it back.”

  He stood and moved to the rail to peer in the distance. “I found this island several years later, and I

  was determined to settle here. I really had no reason to return to England. But I keep going back anyway.

  Every shilling I make goes into building this place. Then once I got the sugar mill up and running, things

  took off. My men and I have made this our home. One day I plan to retire and live the rest of my old life

  here.”

  He eased around to find her gaze studying him. Her brows furrowed with sympathy. “Alone?”

  Where was this question leading? “I hope not.” He eyed her warily.

  She climbed to her feet and stood before him. So close the heat of her body urged him forward, but

  he resisted.

  “Who do you see yourself with?”

  His gaze snapped to her, and he frowned. “I haven’t given it much thought. I don’t plan to marry for

  many years yet.”

  She chuckled. “You’re thirty-four years old, Blac. Just how much longer do you think you have?”

  He let go of the rail and drew himself up. “I am not old.”

  Her features softened into a smile. “No, certainly not, but you’re not young either. If you plan to

  leave this place and your holdings in England to a son, then you’d best get to work begetting one.”

  “Before I’m too old?” The word left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “Yes. You won’t live forever.”

  His frown deepened. “Might I demonstrate to you just how young I am?”

  She chuckled. “I am not denying your manhood. Blac, I am simply saying every day you grow older

  and every day is one step closer to the grave. When do you plan to start a family? When you’re sixty?”

  “No,” he snapped. “But I still have some time.”

  She lifted a brow. “Do you?”

  His hands clasped her upper arms and drew her close. “I know what you’re up to. It won’t work.

  You’re searching for something that doesn’t exist.”

  “Then why do I fairly burn whenever you look at me?”

  “You mistake love and lust, little girl. The two ar
e not the same.”

  Her mouth flattened into a straight line and her eyes narrowed. “But they coincide, do they not? You

  cannot love someone you don’t lust after.”

  He arched a brow. “And you have such a vast knowledge of lust and love?”

  She moved to him and placed both hands on his cheeks. “Call it woman’s intuition.”

  He stepped away. “You delude yourself.”

  “Do I?” she asked. “Or is it you who gets the two mixed up? Maybe you’re just afraid.”

  A sharp bark of a laugh escaped him. “After a life at sea, Miss De’haviland, there is little I fear.”

  He straightened. “Love is an illusion. It’s an emotion one feels at the beginning, but it soon fades into hate.

  The two sides of a single coin: love and hate. And no one is immune, not even those who pretend

  otherwise.”

  He exited the veranda and headed for the door. She followed him when he whipped around. “And

  you, my dear, are looking for fairy tales where none exist. You will find yourself sorely disappointed by

  reality when all is said and done. Mark my words, life has a way of sucking all the hope and dreams from

  us. The only real happiness we will ever find will be in ourselves.”

  She crossed the room. “Like what? Give me an example. If not love, then what makes us happy?”

  He swept his arm in an arc. “Take a look, princess. Money is the only happiness you can hold.

  Anything else is an illusion and little-girl fantasies.”

  Nine

  Blac entered the study and settled into the leather chair behind the mahogany desk he’d built

  himself. He ran a hand across its smooth surface. Money had allowed him the opportunity to make this.

  Mahogany trees grew in abundance on the isle and most of the furniture, banisters, and doors in the house

  had been made of it. It was money that’d allowed him to build this tiny empire in the middle of the

  Caribbean Ocean. And this empire allowed families to come together and live their happily-ever-afters.

  And that makes me happy, doesn’t it?

  Angel’s words came back to him. You won’t live forever.

  He knew that, and with every passing day it became more and more apparent to him. He longed for

  something he didn’t want to name.

  He did want children, a son to inherit all he’d built. He wanted to pass on more than just his home