Someone had been inside her cabin. Jacque?
Well, she vaguely remembered him coming to her door sometime before her lengthy nap, but that’s all she remembered. Had she fallen asleep while the womanizing pervert had…her arms shot to her breast protectively. Had he dared touch her while she was passed out? Her heart drummed so as to rival her pounding head. Consumed by a hot gush of rage, she plucked the note free and read the bold script.
Meet me on the upper deck. You won’t regret it. Love, Jacque.
What? The upper deck? What the hell was he up to?
Love, Jacque? Surely he signed all his chauvinist notes that way.
Well, the treasure seeker was a fool if he thought she ever wanted to talk to him again! No, she wouldn’t be joining him on the upper deck, or the lower deck, or anywhere else he requested. She would go to the galley for a quick bite, then straight back to the safe retreat of her cabin until her headache subsided.
Love, Jacque. Humph! On second thought, she’d just grab something and bring it back to her cabin to avoid any possible encounter with the rogue tonight! With a final look in the mirror, she closed the door and started toward the galley. You won’t regret it.
Esa cursed herself for even considering going on deck. Nevertheless, curiosity always got the better of her. She made a U-turn. Stopped, thought once again about turning back, but proceeded to the upper deck.
“You’re just asking for trouble, Esa Keats!” she berated herself all the while drawing closer to the mystery awaiting her at the infamous hands of the heart thieving pirate.
She could have sworn she heard a low, animalistic growl escape Jacque when she stepped on deck. He held a pencil, along with a small pad of paper and had obviously been sketching before her arrival. What had he drawn? Another portrait of her?
He wore a pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved black mesh shirt that silhouetted a perfectly sculpted torso and powerhouse arms. His hair fell in silky waves; the breeze lifted it gently off his face from time to time.
Her mouth fell open as she scanned the deck. “Wh-what is this, Jacque?”
With an elegant bow and a wave of his hand, he pulled out a chair, inviting her to sit. Cautiously, she approached and eased into the appointed seat.
Jacque leaned down and pushed her closer to the table, his head a mere inch from hers. “I’m wooing you, remember?” came his raspy reply, the heat of his breath on her cheek sending tingles down her spine. Good god, he smelled absolutely divine! His closeness was unnerving. He hadn’t laid a finger on her, yet his warmth enveloped her and filled her with forbidden lust. “Lucky for us, the Captain finds me quite likable and has promised to see to it that no one intrudes upon our amorous evening.”
She should run down the steps right this minute and lock herself in the safety of her cabin. But she didn’t.
The clever cook had conjured up a romantic feast for two. Shrimp scampi with new potatoes, smothered in a buttery wine sauce, a salad of European lettuce, apples, pine nuts, cucumbers, watercress and delicious white balsamic vinaigrette. And strawberries in a sugary sweet sauce layered with whipped topping for dessert. A candle-lit lantern and silk flowers set the ambiance as the sunset abated and the dusky sky grew darker.
Jacque looked much more delectable and fulfilling than the tailor-made meal they were about to partake. Pop! Spewed the cork from a fresh bottle of wine. Her hand flew upward in protest when Jacque lifted her wineglass then proceeded to fill it. Tilting his head to the side, he winked and promised, “Avast Cherie, it’ll cure what ails ye, so long as you don’t overindulge. Not to worry, I’ve taken the liberty to have freshly brewed tea brought up for you as well.” An erotic smile graced his all-too-handsome face as he nodded toward a pitcher across the table. “I know how ye favor the sugary concoctions.”
Jacque raised his glass and held it high before adding with a confident grin, “Here’s to a beautiful night spent in the company of the most stunning lass ever to have been born in this century. Or any other.”
Putty, pure putty.
The man was even more skilled with pretty words than muscle, were it possible. Her stomach churned as just a sniff of the wine assaulted highly sensitive nostrils, but she forced herself to sip it nonetheless. Blah! Better get something of sustenance into her stomach before she developed a dreaded case of dry heaves.
And since she was already on deck, with such a mouthwatering display of culinary craftsmanship.
Why should such a lovely spread go to waste?
“Everything looks delicious, Jacque. You really shouldn’t have gone to such trouble. Thank you.” She smiled, inwardly berating herself. How easily she’d fallen prey to his obvious scheming. He was up to no good, that fact was quite clear. Though her body betrayed her mind and rebuked its pleas to flee, to seek a safe haven elsewhere, while she still could.
“‘Tis my pleasure,” he replied in that dreamy tone while assembling her plate. “We’ll save the best for last,” he purred, settling the strawberries on the other side of the table. Something about the way he said it caused a mixture of fear and delightful anticipation to leap into her chest.
Over the romantic dinner they spoke of their mutual fondness for sailing. Jacque seemed both intrigued and pleasantly surprised by Esa’s vast knowledge of the sea.
She couldn’t eat another bite, yet Jacque insisted. “Just one, Cherie.”
“The fall of man resulted from such a masked request.”
The silver-tongued serpent chuckled and brought the fork to her mouth. “Mmmm,” she uttered, giving in to temptation and partaking of the sugared fruit. It was divine. Sweet, cool and refreshing. Perhaps just one more.
Esa gasped when her eyes fell upon Jacque’s ravenous gaze. What was he staring at? She brought her hand to her mouth, but he bumped it away with his forearm and leaned closer. With a slow, deliberate and erotic flick of his tongue, he made a dash of whipped topping lingering on the corner of her mouth disappear.
Licking his lips as if to savor every speck of sweetness, he drew back and gifted her with that seductive, irresistible grin she thought was meant solely for her. The wine must have helped, as Jacque was so confident it would, for her head no longer felt as if someone were attempting to pound their way through with a jackhammer. Too bad it didn’t cure her flaming desire for the relentless sex-god!
“What did you season the food with—Spanish fly?” She snickered.
He laughed and she jumped. She hadn’t expected him to know what the term meant.
“Ye feel under the effects of an aphrodisiac, Cherie?” The wolfish gleam returned.
She put her foot in it that time. “Eh, no,” she blurted, heat rising to her cheeks when he chuckled deeper. Best change the subject. Quickly. “I only meant the food was very good. Thank you.”
A sinister guise flashed across his face. “Indeed, mademoiselle. Though I’d agree, the cuisine quenches one appetite, yet heightens another.”
Esa swallowed. The man was positively too appealing for his own good. She shot to her feet. “Whew, I think I’d better lie down. I’m not feeling so well.”
He mumbled something under his breath, though she wasn’t quite sure she’d heard him correctly. It almost sounded like, “Sexual depravation can have that effect.”
She refused to go there. “Good night Jacque, thanks again for a wonderful meal.”
Her first mistake was looking at him before moving away from her chair. Puppy dog eyes implored her and wove a tight leash round her heart, his words jerking the chain. “Will ye not sit a spell longer lass? ‘Tis such a fair evenin’ and I could use ye company.”
Her second mistake was honoring such a lethal request. Yet, how could she refuse such a lonesome soul? “All right LaFleur, but I can’t stay long.”
“Aye? Ye’ve another engagement elsewhere?” His eyes were teasing.
“Funny. I’m not feeling well, as I’ve told you. I need my rest.”
“Avast mademoiselle, I’d be grateful for
any time ye might spare.”
This sweeping Don Juan simply couldn’t be the gun-slinging brute she’d read about! Returning to her seat, she gazed up at diamond studded sky. My goodness, the dusk had fallen upon them quickly. “What were you doing before you woke up on the beach?” Not only was she curious but she had to get his mind on something other than s-e-x.
Besides, the question had been gnawing at her from the time she realized Jacque was telling the truth about his identity. What could have triggered such an inconceivable event?
Jacque closed his eyes and inhaled, exhaling slowly before answering. For a moment, she wondered if he might be closing her out again. But then his eyes opened, his gaze took on a far away look.
“We were headed to the Islands, to secure the king’s treasure. Through some ghastly twist of fate, my first mate turned my entire crew against me. There was a mutiny aboard the Sainte-Anne. Stripped of my weapons, I was forced to walk the plank. It began to storm and my boot slipped.” He paused, his eyes near slits and echoing a distant time, causing Esa to rub her arms in attempt to warm them.
“The water was like falling into a bottomless ice barrel, pungent with the sting of salt and growing colder as it pulled me deeper. Until the pain was so great, I could feel it no more. The rope was bound so tightly. Murdock always was the best when it came to tying knots. It was his duty to secure the prisoners.” A bittersweet grin curled one side of his mouth.
Pain wrinkled his expression. “I couldn’t break free, couldn’t hold my breath a moment longer. Everything went black. The next thing I know, I’m waking on the beach, and staring into the face of the most bewitching angel the world has ever known. I thought surely I’d arrived in heaven.” The hungry wolf resurfaced in the shadow of his eyes with his grin.
Questions rushed her head like the stampede of bargain hunters after Thanksgiving Day sale. Which one to ask first? “What caused the mutiny?”
“Aye, the mutiny. Indeed. Keats fell upon some fancy notion that he might benefit more by keeping the king’s treasure than by returning it. Something he couldn’t manage so long as I remained Captain of the Sainte-Anne. What the bastard didn’t know was that what he presumed to be a chest full of riches was merely a decoy for our voyage.” A satisfied smirk flashed across his candlelit face. The way the firelight kissed his features caused her insides to ignite in a frenzy of lust.
“You mean he didn’t know about your treasure? The one we’re on our way to find?”
His head shook from side to side while he toyed with the toothpick protruding from his mouth. “No, although he knew I wasn’t telling the entire truth, he had no idea as to what I was hiding. He couldn’t have.”
“But how could he not? You said you buried it on the same Island. Wasn’t he with you?”
“Aye, lass. Indeed, I did. He was. Avast, while the others were busy burying what they presumed to be the whole of the king’s treasure, I was able to break away for a spell. ‘Tis my belief that there was enough gold in that chest to allow each man to live comfortably for quite a time. I buried the real treasure on the opposite side of the Lagoon of the Lost. Should I have ventured to sell it right away, they would have discovered my deceit. I risked my life to keep that booty from being detected. It would have warranted an immediate death sentence, or they might have opted to maroon me on some destitute scrap of a sandbar. Either way, I didn’t stick to the code. I was still a pirate then, mind ye, when I acquired the treasure.”
“So, it’s true? You were a traitor.”
He shrugged indifferently.
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
“I had my reasons. Family mostly. I’d hoped to sneak away and retrieve the stone when we returned for the chest of riches, when my mother took ill.” Jacque stared into the candle lit shadows of the boat, his sorrowful expression full of regret.
“Let’s just say things happened after we returned to St. Milo and the opportunity never presented itself again. At least not until I was made aware of my father’s excessive debt to King Louis, the ruthless landlubber. He threatened to confiscate the family lands and turn my sisters into his personal concubines if my father didn’t come up with vast quantity of coin in a matter of weeks. I was left no choice but to disclose my knowledge of the lost fortune, in exchange for a full pardon for my father.”
“You said your mother took ill. What happened to her?” She studied his profile for muted answers. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was deliberately keeping something from her.
“She died. Three long weeks of sweat and suffering before the fever finally took her. God rest her sweet soul. Had she been a horse, she’d had the relief of a bullet to end her misery.” His head dropped to his chest and he crossed himself. “It was because of her that I turned from a life of pirating and became a privateer. Just one of many promises made to a dying woman.”
“You loved her very much.” How could this be? History had handed down his merciless betrayal of those he professed to love.
“Aye, she was a good woman, but what good is love if ye can do nothing with it?”
“The history books say—”
“These books of your time paint naught but a canvas of lies. Emmanuel Keats is the reason your history believes me a callous traitor, the reason my entire bloodline was executed. Had I been wise to his trickery, your books would have conveyed an entirely different rendition of my life’s chronicles,” he spat, as though the words left a foul taste in his mouth. “‘Tis but the reason I must collect the treasure and return to my own time. I must find a way to change the felonious documentation, and save my family.”
“I’m sorry, Jacque.” His words were like a spear through her heart. She could only imagine what he must be going through. There was such immense regret, such sorrow in his expression when he spoke of the past, it made her covet the power to turn back the hands of time and set things right herself. She had to help him find his way, even at the risk of losing her soul in the process.
She wanted to comfort him, wrap her arms around him and whisper everything would be all right. But would it? What if she did everything in her power to help him and history remained unchanged? What if he found the treasure, but didn’t return?
“Avast lass, none of what has befallen me is through any fault of yours.”
“I’m sorry for bringing it up. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He smiled, openly molesting her body with his eyes. “What say ye to changing the subject?”
That earned him a giggle. “You never stop, do you Jacque?”
“Not when ‘tis something I crave as to rival even the air that I breathe.”
His gaze was an open fire, and she, the skewered swine. Good lord, but the man was irresistible! With everything in her being, she wanted Jacque to stay in her time. Never wanted to see an end to the way his eyes devoured her when she entered a room. Never wanted the day to come when she wouldn’t be gifted with that raspy amorous lilt. Never wanted the day to come when he stopped trying to lure her into his lair. Would he continue to shower her with attention if she surrendered to the erotic gates of ecstasy? Or turn his desires toward the unknown and enter the here-I-am-come-and-get-me throes of Candyland?
She yelped, her thoughts abruptly discarded as Jacque turned her chair and straddled her lap. Careful not to put his entire weight on her, he rested his hands on the back of her chair. His determined gaze never left hers as he lowered his head and took her mouth in a needy kiss.
She considered stopping him, but the words evaporated inside his mouth. His tongue tangoed with hers. The kiss deepened and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer still.
He made love to her mouth, teasing, licking, taunting…trailing a flame down her neck to the plush mounds peaking out from her sundress. She took full advantage of the opportunity to run her palms along his rock-solid heroic chest.
A soft moan escaped her when his tongue dipped between the deep line of cleavage. God help her but she wan
ted him to touch her, to taste her, to bury the hard shaft grinding against her abdomen deep inside the throbbing heat between her thighs!
She ran her hands the length of his powerful legs, clutching his rear and raising her hips in response to the ancient need mounting between them. Hands clenching the chair so hard as to break it, Jacque nipped her ear and breathed huskily, “Ask me!”
Huh? For the life of her she didn’t know what he was talking about. Hell, he’d won! She’d almost forgotten her own name, and he wanted to talk? “Wh-What?”
“Damn it woman, do not toy with me, ‘tis near too late to turn back now, so if ye do not intend to follow through with the promises your body’s making, you’d best speak up!” His voice was so laden with desire it sent a wanton shiver down her spine.
“Here?” Eyes rounded the size of silver dollars, she pushed against his chest but he didn’t budge.
“You’d prefer to go below?” His smile was taunting, as tempting as the most wicked sin. “I’ve told you, we’ve got control of the deck for the remainder of the night; no one will dare come upon us.”
His serious, urgent expression made her forget the scandalous inference and chuckle. “Just what kind of woman do you think I am?”
He groaned. “Make haste woman. Ask me!”
Ask him? Wha-Oooh. His words rang in her head. I promise not to put my hands on you unless ye ask me.
Hmm. This could prove interesting, not to mention fun!
“And if I don’t?”
“You try me woman!” Jacque’s breathing was thick with urgency.
She loved being in control. How long could he wait? How long could she? Would he break his promise if she didn’t ask? She outlined his velvety lips with her tongue, causing a low, primal grunt to escape him. His body stiffened as though an electrical charge surged its length.
Corsair Cove Page 18