Bound by Decency

by Claire Ashgrove

  And he’d be damned if he let her turn into the same tarnished bird Alex had become.

  As silence settled over the guns and smoke rose from the ports, Cain cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hands, firearms and cutlasses! Forward now! Grapnels at the ready, prepare to board!”

  351

  Bound By Decency

  34

  In the middle of the quarterdeck, India sat on a large wooden crate and watched as Drake and Cain partitioned off the crew, choosing who would stay aboard The Kraken, and who would replace the mutineers amongst Alex’s crew. Alex and Drake had exacted their own version of justice, an execution India couldn’t bring herself to watch. All told, ten hands had coerced the others with threats they illustrated through Alex’s quartermaster, Will. India didn’t know the extent of Will’s injuries, but in one of the hushed murmurs that wafted to her ears, she caught mention of hot irons pressed to his skin. Evidently, out of a desire to protect a man they cared about, the rest of the crew fell into line and caved to the mutineers’ demands. As a result, when the grapples hooked on, Alex’s crew had welcomed Cain’s aboard.

  She leaned back on her hands and looked up at the blue sky, fogged by the wispy remnants of the culverins’ smoke. With the two ships hooked together, waves rocked The Kraken and sloshed between the pair of hulls. The cadence soothed the disquiet in India’s soul. Cain had yet to say anything to her. Though her plan had been executed with much success, whether she’d made an impact on him or not remained to be seen. The lack of knowing had her belly in knots.

  A shadow descended on her. She opened her eyes and squinted at Alex’s tall, feminine outline. With the sun behind her, her long curls blowing in her face and her brace of pistols slung about her waist, she looked like the devil himself.

  “I ’spect I be owin’ ye a bit of an apology.” She kicked a bare toe into the planks and shifted her weight.

  Stunned, India sat straighter.

  “Cain says ye be the one who orchestrated this. Was it ye or Reggie?” Alex glanced over her shoulder as Cain stepped onto the quarterdeck.

  India offered Alex a slight smile. “I told Reggie what I wanted. He made it happen.”

  Surprising her completely, Alex dropped to a squat in front of India and thrust out her hand. Tentatively, India accepted it.

  “Ye want to learn the sea, ye be hollerin’ at me. I’ll teach ye how we women get along. Gladly.” Alex retracted her hand, dusted it on her trousers, and stood. Pivoting on one foot, she grinned at Cain. “Am I off?”

  “Aye. Your sails are repaired enough you can limp back to Nassau. I gave you ten of my best men, and I am sending the whores home.” His gaze hardened as he squinted at her. “I want my men back. Alive. Limbs intact. I’ll return this way come October.”

  Alex’s sly grin transformed into a genuine smile, and she looped her arms about his neck for a tight hug. For once, her physical closeness to Cain, didn’t grate on India’s nerves. She looked on, oddly content to be a part, no matter how remotely, of this unique family.

  As Alex wandered down to the main deck and the rail where Drake waited, Cain perched on the opposite side of the crate. His thigh pressed against India’s, reminding her of the intimate closeness they shared.

  But the comfortable silence soon became oppressive. Someone needed to say something. All she could think of was the foolish, Are you still upset with me? A phrase she was no more inclined to utter, than she was to say, I’m sorry. She wasn’t sorry for keeping Richard’s location a secret, only that Cain misconstrued her intent. She’d done what she felt was best. Exactly as she’d done today. It was his turn now.

  He brushed her hair away from her shoulder. His knuckles grazed the side of her neck, a brief caress that could almost be considered accidental, if it weren’t for the deliberate way he dragged the back of his hand over her shoulder. She willed herself not to look at him. If she did, her resolution would crack the moment she met his gaze, and all the questions would come tumbling out.

  Instead she stared at Drake and Alex. They faced each other at The Kraken’s rail, their hands joined between them. Alex stared at her feet while Drake said something India couldn’t make out. Drake shook his hand free, set his fingers beneath Alex’s chin, and tipped her head up to look at him. His palm cupped the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek as if he might wipe away a tear. Slowly, he dipped his head, his intent as clear as a the sky above. He meant to kiss her. But Alex eased away. With a faint smile, she kissed her fingertips and pressed them over his heart. Then, she turned from him and walked down the thick board that linked the two ships. Drake bowed his head.

  India’s heart wrenched for Drake. To her humiliation, tears clouded her eyes. Though whether they were a product of the sympathy she felt for the rogue pirate, or that of the pain that resided in her own heart, she couldn’t be certain. She cleared her throat to veil her rise of emotion. “Drake’s not going with Alex?”

  “No. And you’d be wise to give him a wide berth. He’s as angry as a bull and won’t say why.”

  She did look at Cain then, surprised he didn’t already know the reason. In a quiet voice she explained, “He has a son.”

  Disbelief widened Cain’s eyes to the size of saucers. “Drake? How in the devil do you know this?”

  “I overheard their argument.” She studied the lines in Cain’s face, longing to reach out and smooth the deep crease in his brow. “He loved her, didn’t he?” And me. Do you love me, Cain?

  Cain chuckled. “In his own way I suppose he did. Though I doubt he’d know it even now.” With an inclination of his head toward the stairs, he murmured, “He comes now. I’ll put him to work. Take his mind off things.”

  As he stood, India caught his wrist. The words came rushing out. “Cain, when I told you I didn’t know where Richard was, you were a stranger. You’d just informed me you meant to kill him, and I didn’t know what he’d done to you. To me.”

  He caught her beneath the arms and dragged her to her feet, crushing her in his embrace. His fingers pulled through her hair, tender and soothing. “Shh. I know. And you didn’t need to prove your loyalty to me today.” With a gentle push, he eased her far enough away he could look into her eyes. “I know where your heart lies.”

  She breathed deeply but her heart lodged against her ribs so fiercely that her lungs had no room to expand. Lightheadedness swept over her. Were it not for Cain’s strong arms that held her up, her buckling knees would have sent her toppling to the deck. He understood. He’d forgiven her. Hugging his neck tight, she lifted to her toes and brushed his stubbly cheek with a kiss.

  As he turned his head, his lips light against hers, the boards behind them creaked.

  “Damnation. You have a cabin. Use it,” Drake snapped.

  Cain eased out of her embrace. “Drake, take the helm. Chart a course for England, and be sharp about the Navy.”

  “England?” Drake and India asked in unison.

  “Aye, you heard me right.” He moved away from India, his spine as stiff as a board. More quietly, he repeated, “England.”

  India’s stomach turned. She swallowed, afraid to ask, knowing what the response would be. Perspiration dampened her palms, and she rubbed them against her trousers. With effort, she choked out, “Why England?”

  Cain kept his stare fixed on the horizon. Broad shoulders expanded as he inhaled. So softly she had to strain to hear his whisper, he answered, “I’m returning you to your father.”

  She blinked, long and slow. A moment ago she’d been so certain. So convinced Cain believed she’d never meant to betray him.

  So very wrong.

  Heartbreak crashed through her, closing her throat. Helpless to stop the catastrophe emerging around her, she looked to Drake. His sad smile reflected the same sympathy his parting with Alex stirred in her. Sympathy for God’s sake. If he felt sympathy, there could be no doubt in Cain’s meaning. Take her home. Return her to her father. Leave her.

  Tears blurred he
r vision. She blinked them back, adamant she wouldn’t cry in front of either man. But to her horror, the hot drops fell down her cheeks. She spun for the stairs, grabbed at the rail, and fled.

  ****

  Cain could have kicked himself for the calloused way he delivered the news. Tact had never been his specialty, especially when it came to uncomfortable matters, but even he knew he’d cut India deeply. He’d planned a speech, perfect words to soothe the blow. Instead, he blundered everything.

  “You cut your own throat,” Drake observed.

  “Go to the devil.”

  “Aye, and I’ll see you there as well. What nonsense clouds your brain?” Drake’s open palm came down on the rail, a demand for Cain’s attention. “Send a letter to her father. Take her to Nassau. For that matter, you’ve an entire island off the larboard. Give up this nonsense, Cain. You don’t want to be here. What is your purpose? To bring misery upon you both?”

  Cain shook his head. Of all the people he knew, he had expected Drake to understand. Perhaps he might have, had Alex not just cast him aside. “She’s not made for a life of shame.”

  “Shame?” Drake thundered. “The only shame you bring upon her is by throwing her back to the wolves of England after she’s spent two months aboard your ship.”

  Fury possessed Cain. At himself, at Drake for forcing him to confront the truth, and at India, yes India, for making him care so much he had no choice. He shook with the force of it. “And what will we do, where will we go, when Woodes Rogers has his way with Nassau? You were there. You heard the rumblings. He intends to clean us out. What would you have me do with India then? Find another island to hide away on? I will not subject her to that life!”

  He took a step toward Drake and jammed his index finger into his friend’s chest. An act which, on any other occasion, would have landed him flat on his back. “My face is known throughout The Colonies. In England, France, and everywhere else I have conducted business. I have no place to hide, a fact you well know.”

  Drake slapped Cain’s hand away. “Mark my words, Cain, you cut your own throat. She’s a part of you now. You can’t carve her out. You might try, but you’ll fail.”

  “And I suppose you know so much, you who cannot keep Alex at your side.”

  Cain regretted the words the moment they fell from his lips. Pain flashed behind Drake’s eyes. As it dissipated, crimson flooded his cheeks. He curled a fist. Raised it. Then with effort lowered it to his thigh.

  “I’m sorry,” Cain murmured. Hating what he had now done to the two people he cared the most for, he strode to the stairs. Bloody hell, he’d made a mess of things. A royal, monstrous mess.

  He thumped his palm against the door to his hall, taking some satisfaction in the way it crashed into the wall. At his cabin, he turned the knob. Only to find it locked. Saint’s teeth, where had she found a key?

  Even as he asked the question, the answer came. Drake was the only other person who possessed a key. Small wonder he fought for India when she’d wound him around her little finger.

  Cain banged a fist on the door. “Let me in, India.”

  A choked and broken voice answered, “Go away.”

  He rested his forehead on the rough wood. Briefly, he considered her request. If he left her alone, he could avoid creating a bigger disaster. She’d feast on her anger, keep him at a distance, and parting would become easier.

  No. For too long now he’d been the coward. Afraid to tell her what lay in his heart, not out of fear for what it would do to her, but what it might do to him. Afraid he lacked the strength to do what he must and would cave to her desire to stay aboard The Kraken. Now, resolved in his decision, he no longer feared he couldn’t do what was necessary.

  He fished his key out of his pocket and let himself into the cabin. “It does no good to lock the door when there are two keys.” He tossed his on the desk where it skidded to a stop before her lizard.

  India leaned against the shelves, arms folded across her chest, tears streaming down her face. She turned an accusing glare his way. “You did it didn’t you? Ruined me completely! The kisses, the talk of dreams, making love to me—it was all just another way to manipulate your pawn.”

  Cain pushed a hand through his hair, pulling off his bandana in the process. That too he tossed on his desk. “No.”

  “When I couldn’t aid your plans, you found another use for me.”

  “No,” he ground out more firmly.

  “And now you’ll wash your hands of me. Leave me with my father, so you can return to your hunt for Richard.” She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “It makes sense now, why you refused to listen to my suggestions. You never wanted to consider other options. Everything was always about Richard.”

  “Bloody Christ, India! I don’t give a damn about Richard!” He stalked to her, blinded by the fierce emotion she wrenched from the depths of his soul. Grasping her by both shoulders, he tightened his fingers so hard she would have to be stone to not feel the bite. “Don’t you understand, I love you? So much so I’m walking away from Richard and doing the only decent thing I can?”

  His confession stunned her, but even more so him. He fell silent, unable to do anything more than stare into her watery blue eyes. Until she accused him of callously using her, he hadn’t fully come to the decision to give up his pursuit of Richard. Now, nothing seemed more important.

  “What?” she whispered.

  Gradually, he released his fierce grip on her slight shoulders. He swallowed hard. “I love you.” He wanted to say more, knew he ought to, but nothing seemed significant enough.

  Her tears fell harder. Her entire body shuddered. He wrapped her in his arms, tucked her head beneath his chin, and held on tight. The constriction in his throat loosened, allowing words to come more freely. “I can’t be responsible for your demise. I won’t be. You are so good, so full of heart. To let you stay would destroy you.” His voice clogged with emotion, and for the first time that he could remember since boyhood, moisture touched his eyes. He sniffed the tears back. “I must take you home, India. Where you’re safe. Where the world around you can’t destroy everything that makes you special.”

  Hesitantly, her arms came about his waist. She huddled into his embrace, her tears dampening his bare shoulder. “Come back with me. We’ll clear your name.”

  He turned his face into her hair and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Oh how he wanted nothing more. The house on the bluffs. Waking at her side each morning. A daughter who looked just like her. His heart seized with the hopelessness of it all. “I would. In a heartbeat I would. But we have no proof, my sweet.”

  She held him tightly, her lips moving across his skin. Her whisper warmed his flesh. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t know how.”

  Cain wound his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back. Her gaze held his, laden with all the love she so freely gave. He reveled in the warmth that spread through his veins, the knowledge that he alone had somehow become worthy of her heart. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers and murmured against her lips, “Neither do I.”

  351

  Bound By Decency

  35

  Her kiss was as sweet as red wine and every bit as intoxicating. As India’s body molded into his, each soft curve an exquisite fit Cain knew he would never again find, his heart tore in half. He threaded his fingers through her hair and deepened the kiss to escape the suffocating feeling of utter loss. To replace it with the heaven she alone defined.

  Bit by bit, the velvety brush of her tongue eased the hollowness in his gut that accompanied the thought of separation. Her tears ceased to flow. Her nails no longer bit into the small of his back. As her hands roamed the length of his spine, and a soft sound of pleasure thrummed in the back of her throat, his blood warmed.

  He did the only thing he could that would relieve them both of this nightmare. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed, where he laid her down atop the soft red quilt. Cain stepp
ed back to look at her. He wanted to remember this moment a lifetime. The day he had cast everything aside and embraced what flowed between them. Her hair spilled across the pillows, a halo of raven silk. Her eyes held his unblinking, wide and full of what he could only describe as love. Never before had he witnessed such beauty. Never before had he imagined he might.

  She caught his hand, twined her fingers through his. With a gentle tug, she urged him to join her. He dropped a knee to the mattress as she sat up. Delicate fingertips clutched at the hem of his shirt, lifting it off his overwarm skin and over his head. He rolled his shoulders to free them of the garment, and India cast it aside. She trailed her nails over his chest, a caress so light goose bumps broke out over his skin. Perhaps they came from the tenderness her touch carried. Perhaps even, they came from the look of wonder that filled her eyes. He didn’t know. The feeling was too incredible for him to care.

  “Love me, Cain,” she whispered. “No boundaries. No restraint. Love me, as I love you.”

  As if he needed encouragement, she removed her shirt and tossed it too aside. But encouragement was the last thing he required. If anything he needed temperance, for his blood ran so hot it stifled him, and the tightness in his loins warned he was already too close to the edge.

  She rose to her knees, her mouth coaxing as her hands relieved him of his clothing. When she pressed her heated body to his equally hot skin, he discovered her clothes had miraculously disappeared as well. His swollen cock nestled into the softness at the juncture of her thighs, cradling him against the damp folds of her most intimate flesh. His entire body trembled.

  He guided his hands around her narrow waist and cupped her bottom in his palms. Holding her against him, he laid her back into the pillows. He kissed her rosy lips, her thick eyelashes, the delicate line of her jaw. Beneath his hands, her skin was like silk, and he traced every curve, every swell, etching them into his memory with a blind man’s touch. His mouth followed the path of his fingers. Licking, nipping, he wended his way down her body. She squirmed beneath him, her fingers clutched at his shoulders, his arms, his hair.