Beauty's Curse

by Tamara Hughes

  She tore off a second piece and offered it to him. While he worked to wedge the cloth in, she studied the seas. A fin rose, but the shark kept its distance. Thank heaven. She scooped up water with cupped hands and threw it overboard. Not good enough. She grabbed David’s shirt and dunked it into the spill, wringing it out over the side.

  David sat on his heels. The leak had only become larger from his attempts. “Damn it to hell.”

  He searched beneath her petticoats and found the bowl he’d brought, then joined her in bailing out the boat.

  Amelia held back useless tears as exhaustion settled in, the lack of food and water taking their toll. Her arms ached with each twist of David’s shirt and her limbs grew heavy. No matter. She couldn’t afford to succumb to self-pity. Ever watchful for the shark, she forced her body to move.

  …

  A streak of lightning lit the night sky. David could deny it no longer. They were going to die. Though the shark had left, the seas had grown restless, and the wind was beginning to howl.

  His arms now as heavy as anchors tethered to his shoulders, he continued to bail out the boat. Across from him, Amelia wrung the shirt in her hands for the thousandth time, her movements slow and weary. Yet she didn’t stop. The fragile woman he’d worried about displayed a strength few men possessed.

  Despite their efforts, the water level steadily rose. The battle would soon be lost.

  Amelia raised a red, blistered hand to her forehead with a long exhale. Thunder cracked in the distance, and she flinched, glancing over her shoulder at the coming storm.

  David forced a grin. “At least if it rains, we’ll have something to drink.” The humid air teased with the elusive taste of water, and thunder echoed around them. The storm had to be a few miles off.

  She picked up the shirt once again, sopping up water from the leak, then tipped her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “The sound is like thunder, but repeats at steady intervals.”

  David stilled and focused on the rumbling. The soft crashes had a rhythm. Inhaling deeply, he caught a whiff of loamy scent. He locked eyes with Amelia. “God love us. It’s the surf hitting land.”

  Her glassy eyes crinkled at the corners, and a relieved smile touched her lips. Her hands kept moving, although she listed against the side of the boat. The look on her face was pure exhaustion.

  He grabbed the oars and rowed toward the sound, the very thought of land invigorating his weary limbs.

  Lightning snapped overhead, and the sizzle raised the hairs on his arms. Amelia hunched forward, still bailing water to keep the craft afloat.

  David gripped the oars tighter. “We’re going to make land before this storm hits us,” he promised, his blood surging.

  The surf grew louder. He glanced over his shoulder. A flash of lightning revealed a long island and trees standing tall. With ragged gasps, he rowed harder. Waves tossed the boat like a toy as he focused on the surf and the dry land beyond.

  The ocean became a light blue as they reached the shallows, the sand below the surface almost white. Shadows of fish and plants spotted the sea floor. A number of them could be poisonous. “Stay inside the boat.”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. Amelia sagged against the side, her head lolled back, and her eyes closed.

  He dragged his limbs over the side and hopped into the shallow water, nearly landing on his arse. The world spun, and his legs wobbled beneath him. His energy expended, he gripped the boat and caught his breath as the first droplets fell from the sky. Tipping his head, he opened his mouth. Rain dripped down his cheeks and spattered his brow. The fresh water was heaven on his parched throat. Thunder boomed. He forced his legs to move, and hauled the boat to shore. “Amelia, we’re here.” One last yank and he ran the craft aground. “And you thought you weren’t lucky.”

  Her eyes opened a crack. With a groan, she attempted to climb out. She trembled, and David reached out an arm to assist her just as her legs buckled. “Hey, now.” He caught her and lifted her limp body into his arms. Her head rested against his neck as he carried her toward the trees, her forehead feverish. He set her on the sand beneath the shelter of the trees and touched her heated cheek. “Amelia, open your eyes for me.”

  She didn’t stir. A knot formed in his stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. She’d been without water for too long.

  The wind whistled through the foliage, and the shower turned into a deluge. He cupped his hands to catch the rainwater. They shook so hard, he couldn’t retain even the smallest amount. He raced to the boat on unsteady legs. Twice he fell, but he didn’t slow his pace. Inside the boat, he found the bowl, then hurried back.

  A stream of water ran off a large palm frond. He swallowed a mouthful, and filled the dish.

  Soaked through, he sank to his knees beside Amelia and set the water aside. He positioned his arm under her shoulders and swept the hair from her face before lifting the water to her mouth. “Drink, Amelia.” Still nothing. The beginnings of a headache throbbed behind his temples. He ignored it. “Amelia, drink some water.”

  He wet his finger and dragged it across her dry lips, lips that should be soft and smooth, as they had been when he’d first kissed her. David muttered a foul curse. He’d heard stories of what happened to men whose ships ran out of water at sea. Fever and delirium, followed by death. Was it too late to save her? She’d suffered so much since she’d been exiled from the ship. With never a complaint. Only unflagging courage.

  David dipped his finger into the bowl and dribbled a few drops into her mouth. A low moan rose from her throat, and her head rolled to the side.

  “That’s it. Come back to me.” He gave her another small taste.

  She swallowed, her lips closing around his fingertip, and hope flared bright.

  “Let’s try this again.” He picked up the bowl.

  When the rim touched her mouth, her eyes fluttered open, and she took a sip.

  He released a long breath. “Good girl. Take another.”

  Her eyes widened to the size of guineas, and she swallowed again, greedier this time. She lifted her hands to the bowl, clenching the sides and tilting it skyward.

  “Not so much at first,” he warned, pulling the bowl from her hands. “Sip.”

  Nodding, she slowly drank the rest of the water.

  By the time she’d finished, bone-numbing fatigue settled into his shoulders and back. His muscles burned as he moved the empty bowl into the pouring rain to refill. His energy depleted, he lowered himself to the sand next to Amelia and cradled her head in the crook of his arm. They stayed beneath the trees as the storm raged. Water poured from the sky, battering the leaves above with a constant thrum.

  As soon as the bowl refilled, David attempted to get Amelia to drink, with little success. She’d fallen back into an unconscious state. He swallowed some of the water, careful to take slow, measured sips, and moistened her lips again, dripping small amounts into her mouth.

  She shivered, and he nestled her closer against him.

  “Hold on, Amelia,” he rasped and dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Hold on.”

  Chapter Nine

  David tried to relax his muscles, careful not to jar Amelia as she rested in the crook of his arm. He needed sleep. Not that he’d give himself the luxury, not with Amelia burning with fever. Instead, he strained to stay awake, his very skin too tight for comfort.

  He focused on the foliage above them and chewed another piece of coconut, the only nourishment he could find nearby. The slightly sweet flavor didn’t appeal, but perhaps he would eventually grow to like the taste. Doubtful, but possible.

  The rain tapped against the leaves in a steady rhythm as it had since dawn. Now early afternoon, the gray skies masked the sun from view, giving the breeze a chance to cool the air to a bearable temperature. The sights and sounds did little to ease his mind. Amelia fared no better than she had last night, and he was at a loss. What more could he do?


  She shifted her head on his shoulder, and her low moan vibrated against his chest. He picked up his rain-dampened shirt and wet her face and arms again. Her skin scorched him with every brush of his hand. Damn it. Would it help or hurt to move her out into the rain?

  The wet cloth didn’t soothe her as it usually did. Amelia’s arm flailed to the side, and her body jerked and writhed.

  David hoisted himself up to kneel at her side, his every muscle aching with exhaustion. “Easy now.” He stroked her hair from her face. The delicate skin of her cheeks was mottled a bright red. Bracing her with an arm beneath her neck, he lifted the bowl to her lips. “Drink for me, Amelia.” If he could get her to drink enough water, maybe she would cool down. Although so far no matter how much he’d forced on her, she hadn’t sweat a drop.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “David?”

  He stared at her for a long breath. His muddled brain needed time to confirm he wasn’t dreaming. “Yes, I’m here.”

  As soon as she heard his voice, her eyes flashed with panic. She rose and gripped his forearms with surprising strength, spilling water from the bowl onto her shift. “I didn’t mean to kill her. Or hurt anyone else.”

  What was this? The result of a nightmare? He set aside the water and took her into his arms. She gave off the heat of a well-stoked oven. Of course. Delirium from her fever. That’s all that this was. Still, her words tore at his heart. He knew that kind of guilt well. “You’ve done nothing wrong,” he assured her. Gritty sand coated his fingers as he rubbed a path along her spine. “You’ve nothing to feel sorry for.”

  She clung to him, although her grip weakened with each passing minute. “I’ll find a place far away to keep them safe,” she insisted, her voice muffled as she nestled into his chest. “I won’t hurt anyone else.”

  Her whimper cut him deep, and he hugged her all the closer. He could only assume she spoke of her supposed curse. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. Everyone is safe.” He settled a kiss on the crown of her head. Damn his soul, she felt good in his arms, better than any woman he’d known before. A smile tugged at his lips. How he missed the way she marveled at the world, every detail a discovery to be savored. So eager to experience life to its fullest. He straightened his spine, his determination strong. He would have that woman back, once he made her well again.

  One more kiss on her head, and he pulled away from her. “You need rest.”

  “No.” She held on to him, a tortured look on her features.

  “Easy now. I’m here.” He laid her back onto her sandy bed and lifted the bowl into place. “Now drink.”

  Her grip on his arm didn’t loosen as she sipped from the cup, her eyes glassy pools. She peered up at him with unconditional faith. That look, so honest and trusting, buoyed his strength. He wouldn’t let her die.

  When it appeared she would stop, he tilted the cup higher. “More if you can.”

  With a feeble nod, she finished the water, her gaze wandering all about them. Although her eyes seemed unfocused, they were open at last.

  Setting the bowl beneath the constant drip of a palm frond, he inhaled his first true breath since her fever had begun, taking in air that smelled clean and fresh. “How do you feel?”

  “It’s still raining.”

  Not the answer he sought, but he’d gladly take that over the terror she’d shown before. “Here. Eat something.” He raised a small slice of coconut to her lips.

  She wrinkled her nose and swatted it away. At least she was responsive. He would assume it was a good sign. He tried again. “Come on now. It’s coconut.”

  This time she accepted the offering, chewing slowly.

  Plunging his palms into the rain, he dampened his hands, then smoothed the water over her legs as he had countless times already, the silky length of calf and thigh teasing his skin. He lifted a palm frond and waved it over her exposed legs in the hopes that the rapid evaporation would cool her faster. Amelia watched his ministrations closely, her face calm and relaxed. He moved his hands beneath the rain, ready to repeat the process when she crooked a finger and motioned him closer.

  What could she…? He bent over her, and she motioned him closer still.

  He moved his face to within inches of hers, and she used that same finger to press against his cheek, turning his head to the side. She lifted herself so that her mouth nearly touched his ear. “I like you,” she confided, her whisper stroking his ear’s outer ridge with the same devastating effect as a flick of her tongue.

  A laugh tickled his throat as he pulled away. “I like you, too.”

  She closed her eyes and rolled her head, stretching her long, graceful neck. “You make me feel good.”

  Tenderness swept through him. She made him feel good, too. He ignored the purr in her voice and lifted the half-filled bowl to her mouth. “Let’s try this again.”

  Eying him over the cup, she drank it all without prompting this time. Excellent.

  She placed her hand over his when he would have withdrawn the bowl, her fingers caressing, squeezing, inviting. He extricated his hand and picked up another piece of coconut meat. “Here. Have another.”

  Amelia ignored the offer. She reached out and ran a hand down his abdomen, sweeping over a spot just above his breeches. He flinched and sucked in a harsh breath, and she smiled, her lips bowing in a sensual curve. Bloody hell. What was she about?

  “You’re ticklish.” She raised her hand toward his face. “You have pretty eyes… And I like your mouth,” she added, her finger heading toward his lips but poking his cheek instead.

  He made a move to catch her hand, but she snaked her arm around his neck.

  “You have soft lips.” Her arm tightened as she tried to pull him toward her, her luscious mouth puckered and ready.

  A grudging laugh shook his shoulders. “Wait.” He grasped her arm. “What’s gotten into you?”

  She blinked her eyes open, disappointment putting a pouting frown on her face. “But I want to kiss you.”

  Kiss him? Given different circumstances, he might oblige her. But not now. She wasn’t herself. This was nonsense. “Rest. You’re very ill.”

  She swept her hand along his cheek, her eyes pleading. “You can make me feel better.”

  He resisted the urge to nuzzle her hand. Instead, he drew it from his face and placed it on her stomach. She would be sleeping again soon, so he’d best keep his mind on task. He wrung out his dripping shirt and wiped it along her brow. A slight breeze ruffled her damp hair and an errant lock played with his fingers.

  Skimming the cloth down one side of her face, he trailed his hand over her heated skin, so smooth and soft. She shivered and rolled her lower lip between her teeth, her gaze dropping to stare boldly at his chest. “When you touch me…” She stopped and swallowed. “When you touch me, I feel…tingly.”

  Her confession, although made in the throes of delirium, penetrated his senses, making him feel things he had no business feeling. He pushed all untoward thoughts from his mind and turned back to his task, running the damp shirt down her lean, shapely arms, one and then the other.

  Her hand returned to his cheek. “Do you like touching me?”

  He tensed. What a question. Her fever had gone straight to her head.

  “Kiss me.” Amelia tugged on his neck, but didn’t wait for him to comply. She rose up and captured his lips with hers.

  Dear God. The initial shock of it quickly melted, and relief took its place. She was awake and alive. The thought of Amelia slipping away, of losing her… He clasped her closer to him, letting the taste of her mouth and the brush of her tongue cure his aching body and soul. He worshipped her mouth with all the tenderness he felt inside. He used no finesse, not this time. His need ran deeper than that. It welled from a place he couldn’t control and didn’t fully understand. All he knew was how blessedly good she felt against him. His muscles trembled as the tension he’d held inside all day drained from him and soaked into the sand.

  She broke their kiss with a r
adiant smile. “Oh, David. I love you.”

  Love? He peered into her eyes, eyes bright with fever, and his heart kicked his ribs with the force of a braying jackass. What the hell was he doing? What kind of man… He removed her arms from around his neck and laid her back onto the sand. “Amelia, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have—”

  “You did nothing wrong.” Her eyelids sagged shut, and her head lolled to the side. “Nothing wrong,” she breathed dreamily.

  Giving a low grumbling groan, he kneaded his forehead until he’d surely rubbed away two inches of his hair. Did Amelia really love him? No, she couldn’t have meant those words. A fever made people say things… Burn his soul. He wasn’t worthy of her and likely never would be.

  His father had always told him he was a poor excuse of a man. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he remembered his time in Madagascar, the things he had done as a slave and what had happened when he escaped. Growing up, he’d thought that his father was wrong in his judgment, but now…

  He sank to the ground and lay on the sand next to Amelia, studying her face as she slept. Her complexion had lightened to a rosy hue, and a slight sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. At long last, she was on the mend. Next he would protect her heart.

  …

  How she hated snakes. Amelia lay stock-still on her belly after a dream-filled slumber, her attention riveted to the brown serpent an arm’s length away. Vacant beady eyes fixed on her face, and a forked tongue flicked from its mouth. She shrank back, a tremor of revulsion rippling over her skin. “David?” she called out, her voice a hoarse whisper.

  The snake hissed in reply, and her next breath froze in her lungs. She tried to push herself up, but her arms were too weak to hold her.

  “Ah, I see breakfast has arrived.” David’s boot pinned the snake to the ground.

  Amelia startled, her heart clamoring for a way out. Where had he come from? She hadn’t heard him approach.

  Using his knife, he severed the snake’s head from its body, and her insides churned. They weren’t going to eat it, were they? “If that’s what we’re having for breakfast, I’ll just have tea. Thank you.” Then again, now that she’d satisfied some of her thirst, her hunger had returned, her stomach aching.