Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage AgreementCowgirl for KeepsThe Lawman's RedemptionCaptive on the High Seas

by Renee Ryan

  “And what of his daughter?” His frigid tone chilled her like the cool desert night. Had she angered him, pushed him too far? Just as well. Perhaps, his anger would distant him.

  Lifting her chin, she looked him straight in the eye, sharing all of her built-up emotions over the past few days. Her confusion, her longing and most of all her anger at never having what her heart desired. A husband, children. Him. “His daughter is nothing more than a slave with no opinion of her own.”

  They stared at each other for several long seconds. His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. Her heartbeat thumped against her chest as she sought to steady her breaths. Somehow the space between them had closed. If she reached her hand up, she could touch his cheek and soothe the anger burning in his eyes. But if she did, like she very much wanted to, her world would no doubt turn into a raging fire. Never to be doused.

  “That small detail has not stopped you thus far, Ada. However, I grant you the freedom to speak as you wish.” His words vibrated through her, and she dropped her gaze to the intricately designed cobblestones at their feet. “Without consequence.”

  She walked to the window to place distance between them and opened the slats. The endless, blue field made her feel small, of little importance on this earth, and yet this man she’d grown to care for dared to tame its wildness. She drew in a deep breath of salty air in hopes of drowning the scent of him. Unfortunately for her, Nicolaus and the sea smelled much the same. “I do not pretend to know what it is like to be a man, to have to provide for his family. However—” not wanting him to think she was a coward, even though her insides quaked, she faced him “—from all I’ve witnessed, the hunger for wealth produces greed, greed eats the soul until the heart is hardened. Hardened enough that there is no care for anything beyond gaining more wealth, even at the cost of other people’s lives.”

  Had not her own mother been a victim to such greed? Her father chased riches, leaving his slaves in the care of his wife, leaving her mother to suffer her cruelty.

  Nicolaus’s heart was far from stone, she knew that. She’d seen his care for mere strangers, herself included. He had even provided a wet nurse for the babe. If Nicolaus hadn’t been out in the storm those people would have perished. So why did her mind insist on comparing him to her father and finding them of similar thought?

  “There are things you do not know, nor are they of any concern to you. The merchandise aboard that vessel means nothing to me as it was purchased with my father’s coin. The ship is my chance at freedom, my chance to do as I please without my father’s games.” He moved closer, stalking her like a lion its prey. “You’ve no idea what it is I risk by tarrying here waiting for you to get well. It is much more than a few pieces of cloth and earthenware jars of honey and oil. It is much more than a simple vessel owned by my father, which I designed and helped build with my own two hands. Furthermore, slave, as you so often remind me of your status, I had no real care to win my father’s game until I reached Ashkelon. Until I purchased you with my own coin.”

  *

  That full bottom lip of hers fell open and then snapped shut. Her lashes fluttered, fanning against her cheeks. But he’d seen the amber of her eyes swirl to warm honey, the same color they’d turned right before he’d tried to kiss her only days before. She shifted forward, her hand hovering between them.

  He gripped her wrist, the warmth of her skin, the beat of her pulse… Squeezing his eyes shut, he swallowed past the thick knot forming in his throat and then shoved her hand away. He yanked open the door and stalked from the cottage. The woman drove him to the brink of madness.

  “Nicolaus.” His grandmother stepped in front of him.

  He rolled the tension from his shoulders.

  “Not now, Yaya.” He kept his gaze above his grandmother’s head lest she see the turmoil in his soul. His vessel bobbed with each of the waves. His men had worked for days to repair the mast and from the looks of the unfurled sail, he’d say they succeeded. Now they could go home. “How soon before Ada can sail?”

  “You intend to leave?”

  He shifted his gaze to his grandmother’s. Although the years weighed heavy on her face, disguising the beauty she’d once been, her eyes remained vibrant. “I must.”

  “Nicky,” she said as she laid her hand on his forearm. His gaze flicked to hers. She hadn’t called him that since he was but a boy. “You care for this woman?”

  “It’s not so easy as that.” He cared more than he should, more than any sane man would given the way she made him want to kiss her and strangle her in one breath.

  “No.” She smiled. “Matters of the heart never are, but she has yet to regain her strength.”

  Nicolaus clenched his jaw. “My heart has nothing to do with how I care about this woman.” He blew out a breath of air. “I am sorry, Yaya. She irritates me more than Jasen and Brison did when we were no more than boys.”

  His grandmother chuckled and patted his forearm as if to soothe him. “I can see that, Nicky.”

  “I give her the night to rest. We must leave on the morrow. It’s fortunate for us home is half a day’s sail.” He leaned down and kissed her weathered cheek. “I am going for a walk, but will return before the sun disappears.”

  “Be careful, Nicky.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted. “Ay, Yaya. I’m always careful.”

  His grandmother always had a way about her that soothed. One gentle word from her when they were boys and their scuffles ended and he and his brothers became the best of friends. Although he’d been more than resentful when his father left them at Yaya’s while he sailed the Great Sea, he now missed those days, wished they could go back to when things were simple. When his greatest challenge had been catching more fish than Jasen or swimming the fastest.

  Nicolaus cut through the greenery and sprinted over the rocky terrain. He climbed onto the tallest rock and stared out at the expanse of nothingness before him. How many times had he stood in this very spot watching the sail of his father’s ship until it disappeared? Waiting for him to return? Such was the life of a sea merchant.

  He tipped his head back and bathed his face in the sun. Would his children watch him leave and wait anxiously for his return? Would Ada? He jerked his chin back to the sea. Where had that thought come from? He shoved a shaking hand through his hair and jumped from the rock.

  Nicolaus raced to the edge of where the foam crawled. He removed his sandals and stripped down to his loincloth, leaving his tunic, daggers and the scrap of leather his father had given him upon his first sea voyage as a child on the rocky shore. The map held wistful adventures and tales of treasure. David had stolen the map from him upon Nicolaus’s captivity. Nicolaus had retrieved it shortly after Jasen had paid a ransom for his release. It had been a moonless night when Nicolaus entered David’s home and threatened to break David’s will until he confessed Desma’s destination. Even under the worse torture Nicolaus could think of, David had remained silent, which led him to believe David did not know where Desma was. He never once confessed who he’d given Desma to, which left Nicolaus wondering and longing to search the seas for her.

  His bare feet hit the water as he ran into the surf. Waves swirled around his legs, pushing and pulling, but he kept moving forward until the water swirled around his chest, and then he dove beneath the water.

  He thrust his hands out in front of him, cutting through the water as he kicked his feet. Wave after wave crashed over his head but he kept swimming until he neared one of the rocks rising up out of the sea. Treading water, he inspected the rock that had seemed so massive when he was a boy. New crevices had formed over the years; others had deepened, creating windows for the sunlight.

  Standing against the sea as he sailed from one port to the next had changed him. In some ways it’d made his heart hard, as Ada had so rightly determined. Yet, in other ways, it had created a longing, a desire to furl the sails and keep his vessel moored. Looking at this rock, he knew he didn’t want to be batt
ered and broken until there was nothing left of him. However, that was not a choice for him to make. Not until he found Desma. Even then, he was beginning to think the only woman he longed to be moored to was Ada. No other made him long for the freedom of her arms over the freedom of sailing.

  He swiped the droplets from his eyes and sighed. His father would never allow such a union, which left him as he was, adrift with no real port to call home. He stretched out his arms and legs and floated on his back. The sky, as blue as the water, consumed him. He was nothing more than a small speck in the earth and the sea. Was there an Almighty Maker of the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that was within as Ada believed? Lying here on his back, cradled by the sea, he could almost believe it. Did this God truly love the righteous and preserve strangers such as he? A Greek even?

  He laughed. What else had Ada prayed? Happy is the one who has You as their help, O Lord.

  “Lord, if You truly exist will You help me find happiness?”

  Turning over onto his stomach, he dove down into the water. Thrusting his hands outward, he swam down as far as he could until his lungs felt as if they’d burst, and then he somersaulted and kicked his feet. With his arms tight at his sides, he shot upward like an arrow from its bow. He broke the surface, took a deep cleansing breath and swam back to shore.

  He didn’t have the answers he sought. He hadn’t expected any. It seemed his best course was to keep distance from Ada, especially if he was to keep this madness from plaguing him.

  He had picked up his sandals and donned his tunic, leaving the shoulders to drape around his hips, when he spied the bright pink blooms his sister had always worn in her hair. Picking his way across the stones, he plucked the largest bloom and cradled it in his palm. He crept back to the rock he’d claimed when he was a boy and sat. The high sun soaked the droplets from his skin. The waters were calmer than they’d been earlier in the morn. Unfortunately, he was not. The duty to his sister weighed heavy on his shoulders. There was no guarantee he’d find her but he had to try, and he’d search the known world if he had to, which meant he had to go home.

  Home. Now that was a source of confusion. If only he could remain here with Yaya. With Ada. To learn more about the woman beneath the fire. The one he knew held compassion for those less fortunate. He smiled. And those undeserving. Tenting his elbows on his knees, he twirled the stem between his fingers. Desma was delicate, much like the pink petals. She’d perish under the cruelty of slavery. Ada, although small in stature, was strong and courageous. And if truth were to be told, she was capturing his heart as efficiently as any seasoned fisherman.

  “Ay, I best find a way to rid myself of the woman before I forget my duty to Desma.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ada followed the path leading to where Nicolaus sat. Her feet came to an abrupt halt and she gasped when she spied the red, welted lines slashing across Nicolaus’s back. He jumped to his feet.

  “You should not be here, Ada.” His muscles expanded as he pulled his tunic into place but not before she’d seen the mark branded on his chest. “There are snakes crawling about.”

  Her gaze flew to the ground as she shuffled her feet.

  “You would not wish to get bitten.” He climbed from the rock and stood in front of her. “How did you find me?”

  She ignored his question. She’d sought him out for a reason and it was not to argue as his tone suggested he was prepared to do. “I wished to apologize.”

  Nicolaus bent to tie his sandal, but glanced up at her. “There is none needed, Ada.” He unfolded his length, his height imposing. “You were correct. It takes a certain kind of man to be a merchant. One that is ruthless with no care for others. As am I.”

  “Nicolaus.” She searched his eyes, looking for something to belie his words. However, she knew differently, knew Nicolaus was nothing like the man he described. She knew him to be kind and compassionate even if he was grumpy at times.

  He stepped around her and headed up the path she’d come down. She gathered the hem of her tunic and raced after him. “Nicolaus, stop.”

  He turned toward her. Vulnerability glittered in the dark depths of his eyes. She dared not examine why he resembled a child fearful of rejection. It was obvious the wounds marring his flesh were nothing compared to the ones buried within his soul.

  Her hand reached up. The tips of her fingers brushed over his brow. The curls blanketing his skin were as soft as she’d imagined, even dripping wet. She caressed her thumb over a small white scar above his eyebrow. A ripple of warmth cloaked over her hand, spiraling up her arm and straight to her heartstrings. She jerked her hand away, dropping it to her side. “What happened to your back? I’ve seen many such scars. I have treated them among my father’s slaves.”

  His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared. “Then you’ve no need for my answer.” He turned away and took giant strides up the hillside.

  “They are recent.”

  Nicolaus continued his trek until he disappeared between the greenery. Rocks slid from beneath her feet as she tried to catch up to him. She slid, and she cried out when her hands scraped against the stones. She inhaled a breath and released it as she pushed herself up from the ground and sat. Facing the water, she pulled her legs into her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and stared out at the endless blue waters.

  “What are you doing?” Even though she jumped, his deep timbre soothed an ache in her chest, one that longed to be cared for, watched over. He sat beside her, nudging her with his shoulder. “You know, you have a habit of sitting like that whenever you are upset?”

  She drew in a shuddering breath. The sun shone so brightly against the waters that it was near blinding, much like the blooming emotions she felt toward Nicolaus. If she were not careful she’d love him like her mother had her father. “It makes me small. Sometimes small enough not to be seen.”

  “And why would you wish to hide, Ada?”

  “How did you become a slave?”

  He laughed but did not answer her. For which she was glad else she’d have to share her secrets, as well.

  “It is beautiful here. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Then you are sorely deprived, Ada.”

  She turned her head, laying it on her knees, and looked at him. His eyes reminded her of obsidian. His hair, still wet from his swim, curled around his jaw and dripped onto his tunic. “The old woman seems fond of you?”

  White teeth gleamed when he smiled. “Ay, she should. I’m her only grandchild who continues to visit.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  “We call her Yaya. She’s my mother’s mother. Brison refuses to leave the ship since he has duties, but I believe he fears Yaya will beg him to stay. He and Xandros will arrive to break the evening meal.”

  “I am sorry, Nicolaus. I should not have spoken as I did. Your grandmother says you have much on your mind. I haven’t considered others.”

  “That is far from the truth, Ada.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, sending shivers racing down her back. “You’ve done nothing but consider others, even in your illness. And—” he turned his gaze toward the sea “—I understand what it is like to be scared. Several months ago I was sailing to this very island. My sister was to marry a wealthy merchant in a neighboring village. Although we were heavily armed we were overcome by thieves. They took everything, including her. I later discovered a man I had considered a friend had hired them to take her.”

  Waves rolled ashore. A lone, white bird screeched overhead. Her heart thundered in her ears. A tear slid down her cheek at his loss and at the words he’d left unspoken. She had no doubt he’d been taken captive, too. She sensed the scars marring his skin from his time in bondage were nothing compared to the ones residing in his chest. She took his hand in hers. What must it have been like for the strong, brave man to have his sister stolen from him? “I am sorry, Nicolaus.”

  He stilled, his gaze on their hands. He drew in air, and then twined
his fingers with hers. His tanned calloused skin next to her paleness spoke of the differences between them, spoke of how she should not be giving him her heart. Yet, somehow this was more right than anything she’d ever known. It was as if she’d found her place in this magnificent world, here on this island, next to him. He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. The warmth of his breath whispered across her skin like finely woven silk. The pleasure stole her breath, threatened to steal her resolve to keep her distance.

  “Nico—”

  “Ada,” he said as he clasped his hands together, cradling hers between them. “You must know, I do not purchase slaves, not since my time in captivity and even before only for my father and they were treated fairly.”

  Her heart sank at the thought of this proud man chained and beaten as his scars spoke.

  “It is a way of life, Nicolaus. My father has many.” She thought of her mother and how all of his concubines were treated differently. The beatings they’d received for small offenses. Nicolaus wouldn’t be so cruel to his concubines. However, she did not think she’d like to share his attentions with a wife. Her fingers itched to pull away, but he squeezed, holding firm.

  “It does not matter, Ada. I’d made a vow to never buy a slave, but then I saw you. The man bidding on you would not have been kind. Life would not have been kind.”

  She gazed at the waves, rolling in and then out. “I thank you for that.”

  He released one of her hands and crooked a finger beneath her chin, drawing her gaze toward his, and then tucked another strand behind her ear. “When my father issued the challenge between me and my brother, I did not want to sail again, but Xandros convinced me that I could search for my sister in each port. Jasen had already scoured every port known on the Great Sea, with no sign of her, but I had to try.” His gaze shifted beyond her shoulder. “I do not care about possessions or my father’s merchandise. I failed Desma in the worst way. There is little hope of finding her, but when I laid eyes on you and that distasteful procurer bidding on you I knew I had to try. I can’t leave my sister to such a fate. If I win this challenge, if I beat Jasen, then I’ll have my own vessel to search for her, to do as I wish.”