Tiger Eyes

by Kimberly Nee

  “I think you should know.”

  “I do know, Finn. How could I not, when you won’t let me forget it? I would have to be an idiot to think otherwise.” A dull headache poked behind her eyes and she set down her goblet to rub them. “What do you truly want from me, Finn? We both know it is no white flag you wave, or a deep, binding sister-like friendship you seek, so why not tell me the real truth?”

  Fiona’s expression was stern and serious. Whatever she had to say, it weighed heavily on her. “I’ve never seen Diego as happy as he looked this afternoon, when you left the Galatea. I should hate to see that change.” Her tone grew most serious, “And, if you should ever hurt him again—”

  “I am not going to make the same foolish mistake I made five years ago, Fiona.” Gabby shook her head. “Not ever again. He will not wake one morning and find me gone. I’ve had my fill of the seas, and of sailing, and want only to settle here to raise our child. I know what a terrible mistake I made, and how fortunate I was to have that second chance given to me. This is what I want, and he is who I want to share it with. And if you need to hear that I will never hurt Diego, that I will never break his heart, here it is. I promise never to do either.”

  “If you do, I will dispatch you but good.” The words were mild, but there was no mistaking the seriousness beneath them.

  “It is good then, that it is not something either of us will need contend with,” Gabby replied in an equally mild voice. Perhaps Fiona could put fear into certain people. She was not one of them. “And, as much as I do appreciate your concern for Diego’s well-being, it will no longer be necessary. That is now my concern, and mine alone.”

  Fiona’s steely gaze softened, then took on a puzzled look. “Did you say child?”

  Gabby couldn’t hold back her smiled. “I carry his child, Finn. So, even if I did not love him, I would not disappear on him again, and the only one who needs believe that is Diego. And to be honest, I’m tired of feeling as if I need to prove myself to you.”

  “Gabby, wait—” Fiona covered Gabby's hand with hers. “I—oh, bloody hell… Iñigo is right. I am far too nosy and too determined to force everyone around me to bend to the way I think they should be. Please, might we start over again? I promise you, I have no hidden agenda. I only want him to be happy and from what I see, he is happy with you. And a child! Oh, that is wonderful!”

  Still not entirely convinced that Fiona was being completely altruistic, Gabby nonetheless lowered down into her seat. “Yes. At the end of the year.”

  “Wonderful. Oh, that is so wonderful. Perhaps this child and my Serena will be great friends.” Fiona squeezed her hand. “And perhaps, we will also one day be great friends.”

  Gabby wasn’t so sure of that, but nonetheless smiled and nodded. “Perhaps.” And perhaps they would be. After all, she never thought she would share her life with Diego again, and yet she did.

  She smiled as Fiona launched into a long, excited monologue regarding weddings and flowers and they would have to find a priest but it shouldn’t be too difficult, and oh! What a wonderful party she and Iñigo would host to celebrate the marriage. It wasn’t entirely as Gabby would have planned for herself, but Fiona seemed to be so enjoying herself that she didn’t have the heart to disagree at all. And besides, she didn’t really mind all that much. The only thing that mattered was that she and Diego would soon be husband and wife. Everything else was merely details.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Fiona bustled about the room, barking orders at the servants, while Gabby fought the urge to bark at Fiona. Flora stood on a low, three-legged stool, wobbling a bit as she tried to set a wreath of orange blossoms and beautiful, bright pink hibiscus blooms atop Gabby’s carefully arranged fall of dark curls. A pin pricked Gabby’s scalp, and she couldn’t halt her growled, “Take care.”

  “I am so sorry, señorita,” came Flora’s hasty reply as she clambered down from the stool and gestured to Fiona. “Come and see, Señora Sebastiano. This is what you wished?”

  Irritation twisted Gabby’s innards. It was her wedding, and yet, she had very little to say in the matter. Fiona had simply taken over. From the wreath of fragrant blooms, to the delicate lacy shift Gabby wore beneath her flowing, sleeveless, pale blue silken gown—Fiona suggested every aspect. Still, she meant well, was trying to prove to Gabby she no longer harbored such hostility toward her. Gabby bit the inside of her cheek. Perhaps Fiona meant well, but it was aggravating just the same.

  The sweet scent of orange blossoms also helped quell her irritation. After all, this was the day she’d longed for since making that terrible mistake. Did it really matter that Fiona’s way of showing she wanted a fresh start was to run roughshod over everyone?

  It was a glorious day, to be sure, and a blessing after almost a week’s worth of storms lashing St. Phillippe. The worst storms in memory, according to Fiona, and when they finally blew out, the harbor looked as though a giant child had grown angry at his toy boats and smashed them against the sand.

  But now, the sun shone, brightly-colored parrots and chatty macaws squawked overhead, and a gentle breeze blew through the open terrace doors to flutter the filmy skirts about Gabby’s legs. In just a short while, she and Diego would finally be joined forever. She couldn’t wait for forever to begin.

  Behind her, Fiona said, “Flora, you’ve done magnificently. I thank you.”

  The awe in her voice came as a bit of a surprise to Gabby. How much of a change could a gown and a wreath of roses and orange blossoms bring about?

  Fiona’s insistent nudge moved her before the looking glass. She peered at it and shook her head. No. That was not her reflection. It couldn’t possibly be.

  She stared hard at the stranger, who stared right back.

  “Diego will never know what hit him, when he sees you, Gabby,” Fiona murmured, her voice heavy with pride and cracking slightly. “You can never know how happy I am for you both. How wonderful it is to see him so happy.”

  Gabby smiled, and the stranger smiled back at her. The early stages of pregnancy suited her, gave her a radiant glow and filled out her curves, now hugged in shimmering ice-blue silk. Sleeveless in deference to the heat, it was also void of any ornamentation—a simple fall of that glorious fabric—and the unadorned neckline plunged to an almost scandalous depth, though it was no more immodest than what the locals wore. Diego’s eyes were likely to burst from their sockets, and his male instincts would be finely attuned to any other male attention she was sure to draw once she stepped out onto the terrace.

  “I hardly recognize myself,” she murmured, trailing a finger over the cool, fluid silk caressing her breastbone.

  “You look beautiful,” Fiona assured her, fluffing the fall of dark sable curls tumbling down Gabby’s back. “Diego will be speechless when you appear.”

  Christina, another of the maids, hurried into the room with a slam of the door. “Señora, we are ready to begin. Capitán Sebastiano sent me here to tell you that you should hurry.”

  At those words, butterflies unfurled their wings deep within Gabby’s belly. It no longer mattered that she would have preferred breeches and shirt over the delicate gown. Or that a priest would bless her union with Diego, when she would have been quite satisfied with a local shaman. Or that Fiona decided orange blossoms belonged in her hair. In but a few minutes, she and Diego would be bound together for life. That was all that mattered, all that would ever matter.

  “We will be but a moment more,” Fiona replied, the impatience gone from her voice. “Flora, you’ve done beautifully and I thank you.”

  “As do I,” Gabby chimed in, finally turning away from the mirror.

  Flora beamed, her white teeth flashing against the darkness of her skin. Bobbing her head, she replied, “It was my pleasure, señorita.”

  Fiona cleared her throat and smiled at Gabby, her eyes surprisingly shiny. “I suppose it’s time then, Gabby, to take you to your groom.”

  A butterfly with particularly might
y wings sent a whoosh of excitement through her. Her hand actually trembled as she smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt. “How can I be scared?” she murmured, staring down at her shaking left hand. “I have never been more certain of anything.”

  She didn’t realize Fiona had risen from the bed, until a reassuring hand came to rest on her back. “I don’t think that is fear, Gabby.”

  Taking a deep breath to quell her nervousness, Gabby nodded, then let out a long sigh. “No. I don’t suppose it is.”

  Fiona squeezed her shoulder. “Come then. He waits for you.”

  “You need only say the word, and I will distract the others long enough for you to disappear.”

  Diego frowned at Iñigo’s reflection as he finished readying for the ceremony. “Though I know it’s a joke, it is hardly amusing, Iñigo.”

  Iñigo pressed a crystal glass filled with bubbling pale gold champagne into his friend’s hand. “We will drink to your marriage, my friend. May it be long. May it be happy. And may you be blessed with healthy sons.”

  Diego turned away from the looking glass, and held up his champagne. “Or daughters. Like you, I am not fussy.”

  Iñigo clinked glass against Diego’s and took a sip. Diego did the same, savoring the champagne’s delicate bite. It fizzed in his glass as he set it on the washstand. “How much time?”

  Glancing at the clock above the white marble mantelpiece, Iñigo replied, “Fifteen minutes, give or take. Are you in so great a hurry to abdicate your freedom?”

  Diego chuckled, shaking his head. “My hurry has nothing to do with the wedding and all to do with getting my bride alone afterwards.”

  “Ah… yes… I take it you have made it clear the Galatea is not to be disturbed this eve?”

  “This eve. Tomorrow. Tomorrow eve. I do not want to see an unshaven face until the end of the month, if that is at all possible.” He lifted his flute again, draining it in one swallow. Lowering the glass, he said, “I have no intention of sailing again, Iñigo. I belong here. On dry land.”

  “At least until after the babe comes.”

  Diego looked up at Iñigo’s dry tone. “Perhaps longer. I will leave that up to Gabby. I doubt she’ll lose her love of the sea entirely, and I will be greatly surprised if the itch to sail does not return.” He smiled. “However, I did have the idea of exploring the possibilities of a London office.”

  Iñigo groaned. “Promise me that you won’t turn into a fop like those fools we met in London? That you won’t suddenly develop a mad interest in horses and fancy coats with skirts wider than any woman’s.”

  “Bite your tongue.”

  “Thank the Lord,” Iñigo sighed as he refilled both flutes. “You would install Wrothston in the London office, should we decide to set one up?”

  “I could, but I should think he would much rather chase local women and imbibe in our rum than deal with the headaches of running a company. I will worry about that when it comes around.” He drained his second glass of champagne, set the empty glass on the sideboard, and moved to the door. “I care nothing about shipping and the like right now. My bride awaits and she is all I wish to think about today. So, shall we?”

  Iñigo laughed as he set down his glass, and then ushered Diego from the room. “If you insist, old man. If you insist.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The celebration was still underway when Gabby stole away from the crowds for a few moments of peace. Music and laughter drifted in her direction as she made her way to the waterfall inland that reminded her so very much of the one on their island.

  The orchids’ delicate perfume filled her nose as she sank to the warm, sandy bank of the pool at the base of the waterfall. Every now and again, laughter and raised voices floated on the scented breeze, but mostly, it was peaceful and quiet. She sighed softly. Heaven, indeed.

  The silvery water was calm, and the jungle was quiet, even as a small deer emerged from the foliage. It stared at her for a moment, then gracefully lowered its head to drink from the spring. She watched in absolute silence, not wanting to frighten the deer, and when it finished, it slipped back into the dusk as silently as it emerged.

  The only sound was the gentle rush of the steady fall of water feeding life to the spring and it soothed her, was exactly what she needed after the whirlwind of the day. In the twilight, the pureness of her silk gown gleamed like ice, while the warmth of the day lingered on her bared shoulders.

  “Does something trouble you?”

  Craning her neck, she smiled as Diego stepped out of the shadows of the palmetto-lined path. Though still dressed in his elegant finery, his black breeches were wrinkled and his stark white silk shirt was opened at the throat, his stock long shed and most likely misplaced. His dark hair curled at his temples, and his eyes were heavy-lidded, but she didn’t think sleepiness had anything to do with that. He was more handsome than ever, and her heart still fluttered at the sight of him.

  “No. I just needed a bit of time alone. I hadn’t expected so many people. I do believe the island’s entire population has joined us.”

  He leaned up against the trunk of a coconut palm, arms folded over his chest. “I tried to warn you.”

  “Yes. I suppose you did.” She smoothed a hand over the skirt spread out over the sandy bank. “You can sit here, you know.”

  His smile widened as he pushed up from the tree trunk and moved to sink beside her. His scent—musk and sunshine—mingled with the orchids, and she breathed deep as she leaned up against his solid arm. “I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s simply that I’m not used to such crowds.”

  Diego slid an arm about her shoulders and pressed his lips to her temple. “They will only linger a day or so, then we may get on with our lives. If you wish, we could escape to one of the neighboring islands for a bit. A few are even uninhabited, so we would have it entirely to ourselves.”

  He gave her no chance to answer, though as his lips, warm against her, grazed downward over her cheek, and her eyelids drooped as a pleasant drowsiness settled into her skin. He kissed along her neck, over her throat, skimmed the curve of her chin, and his mouth came to rest on hers.

  She melted into him, savoring the delight of his kiss, and smiled as it deepened. It was something she’d never grow tired of, Diego’s soulful kisses. He slid an arm about her waist, eased her onto her back, and pulled away to regard her with swirling honey-brown eyes.

  “I love you,” he murmured, his voice rich and throaty.

  “I will never grow tired of hearing you say that,” she replied, easing her arms about his neck, letting her fingers slip through the silky dark hair at his nape. “Especially when I was so certain I would never hear you utter it.”

  “So why do you look so far away?”

  “I suppose I am far away. I never thought William would turn on me. I knew he never really cared for me, but to go so far as to have me killed…” She looked up at him. “Of course, if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been in that hold, wouldn’t have had that second chance with you.”

  He held her gaze, and she took a deep breath to whisper, “If I hadn’t been so foolish back then. There has never been anything I’ve regretted nearly as much as I regret leaving that first time.”

  “That is in the past, amor,” he murmured, leaning in to brush her lips with his.

  “But, still—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I do not want to speak of regrets now, Gabby.” He curved a hand against her cheek. “I am here because I’ve loved you since that first night, so many years ago. And if anything, it has only grown stronger since then. There is nowhere else I would rather be, than right here. Like this. With you.”

  “Neither would I,” she murmured, linking her fingers behind his head to draw him down for a long, lingering kiss.

  When they parted, he swept his lips along her temple and whispered, “My wife… There will be no more running, Gabby. No more fear. You need only trust that I will always be there when you wake in the morning, and I w
ill always be there when you close your eyes to sleep each evening. And when those nights come when you can’t sleep…” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  She giggled, squeezing him closer. “I think there will be many, many of those nights.”

  He kissed her again, a long, lingering kiss that sent a rush of shivers along her spine. “Ahh… Gabby… you have no idea what trouble you’ve stirred with those words.”

  “Oh, but I do. Those finely cut breeches leave precious little to the imagination, Diego, love. Especially when one is quite familiar with the man beneath them.”

  “Is that so?” He shifted to send another rush through her. One hand caught at her skirt, tugging it up above her knee, his fingertips warm upon her bared flesh.

  “Oh, it is definitely so.”

  He kissed her—a long, lingering kiss—then pulled away to whisper, “And no running this time?”

  “I would never be so mad as to do that again.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that, Gabby.”

  She nibbled at his lips as they brushed hers. “Of course.”

  He groaned softly and shivered against her. “Dios mio, woman… You would drive a saint to murder, do you know that?”

  “I do. Now, stop talking and kiss me, won’t you?”

  His laugh mingled with another groan, but he did just as she requested, and both surrendered to the fires threatening to claim them whole.

  About the Author

  Kim fell in love with historical romance when she was sixteen, and blames it on Kathleen Woodiwiss, since it was her The Flame and the Flower that got her hooked. Not long after finishing it, she sat down to write one herself and now, many years later, she’s still writing them.

  Born and raised in New Jersey, Kim still lives there with her husband, two children, a dog, and a handful of gerbils. When she’s not pounding away at the computer keyboard, she does crossword and Sudoku puzzles, knits, breaks wrestling matches between the kids, and occasionally, she gets to read. She’s also a lifelong fan of the New York Yankees, New York Giants, and the New York Rangers. She also loves Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Elton John, and the Rolling Stones. Check out her website www.kimberlynee.com and her blog www.kimberlynee.blogspot.com to find out the latest news!