by Paula Quinn
He held her under her shoulders, her nape cupped in one palm, and slid into her over and over, slowly, taking his time to enjoy her deepest niches, rubbing her nub over the length of his thick shaft. Her eyes fluttered open and invited him to take more, all of her. He did, and then he pulled her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. He set her down gently and covered her with his body. He thought nothing could feel better than the thrill of fighting for his life, but he was wrong. Being with her, inside her, atop or behind her, fired his blood even more. She claimed his heart when he’d forgotten he even had one left. It stunned him how much of his heart was lost to her. It scared him to think what he would give up for her.
He looked deep into her eyes and sank into her inviting warmth.
“Do ya truly not know what I feel fer ya?” He groaned, blending his breath with hers.
She smiled and shook her head. An audacious, adorable liar. He didn’t care and gave in and told her.
“I feel like ya are the answer to my deepest longings, the peace in the storms that sometimes ravage me soul. Ya hold me heart in yar hands and I trust it there.” He kissed her softly, briefly. “Ya are me treasure, Caitrina.” He kissed her again and drew himself out, then back in. “More precious than gold, gems, silks. I would give up me father’s treasure fer ya.” He grinned against her smile. “How do ya not know that I’m in love with ya?”
She clenched a fistful of his hair and coiled her legs around him tighter. “I wanted to hear ye say it.”
Poseidon’s balls, the way she laid claim to him made him drive into her harder, slower. He didn’t take her. She gave herself up to him, moving beneath him like a sinuous dream, clutching him to her body, screaming out his name, and finding her perfect release with him.
Chapter Thirty-Three
In the morning, Trina woke to an empty bed. She sat up and remained still, knowing by the movement of the ship that they were docked. She didn’t know why she smiled while she rose and dressed to begin the day. Perhaps her heart danced over the night she and Alex spent together. He told her that he loved her. Och, she knew it deep in her heart. She suspected it. But why her and not any of the other women he’d taken to his bed? It didn’t matter why. He loved her. And today she would tell him her heart. She thought she might not be able to stop grinning like a fool over the prospect of seeing him this morning, of seeing Parrot Cay again. Mayhap her happiness stemmed from the thought of sailing to Madagascar. She didn’t just smile; she twirled her way out the door. Och, Abby would think she’d gone mad if she saw Trina now.
She didn’t care. She held her breath when she stepped out onto the quarterdeck and spread her shaded gaze over the tropical paradise. Alex’s home was as beautiful as hers. She wanted to come back often. She wanted to go there now.
Leaving the ship, she followed the sounds of men’s cheers and jeers to the beach. She came upon the crew and Captain Pierce’s men, finally enjoying their combat. From her vantage point, she determined Gustaaf the champion over his English opponent. She smiled at Kyle in the crowd of cheerers, then looked around for Alex.
“What do you think your family will do when they find you?”
She turned to look up into Captain Pierce’s cool slate eyes. She didn’t want to think about it. “Alex promised me he wouldn’t lift a blade to them.”
He looked away, toward Gustaaf’s victory. “They’ve no doubt been fed lies by Mr. Andersen, about the reprehensible character of a pirate, of Captain Alex Kidd in particular. Andersen’s plan, if he’s as clever as Alex’s father believed, will be to rile your family up against him, enough to kill him when they find you, leaving his hands clean to steal the map for himself.”
Could she talk her father out of killing Alex? Could she stop her brother, her uncles, and her cousins from swinging at him? Would Alex honor his vow if someone tried to kill him? Who would die in a battle between her kin and the crew? She didn’t want to think about these things and looked around again for Alex.
“I wouldn’t have you deceive yourself into thinking Alex would hand you over without quarrel. Nor would I have you believe that your father would approve of this lifestyle for you. A stand down can only be settled with swords. One will win you and the other, you will leave behind, dead or alive.”
She didn’t realize that her eyes had filled with tears until the droplets fell to her cheeks. He was correct. Alex wouldn’t give her over without quarrel. He loved her. He told her so. Captain Pierce’s words struck like nails in her heart. His voice remained tender and merciful. He wasn’t trying to hurt her or to trick her into going back to Skye with him. He was being sincere. He was right.
“What should I do?”
“Wipe your eyes. Your captain approaches.”
She did as he said and waved at Alex and Sam returning from the direction of the village.
Before he left her side and moved forward to have a word with Sam, he dipped a tad closer and said, “After he has his treasure, send him off without you and Kyle. Give him a chance to live, Miss Grant. If you care for him, give him his life.”
Alex shouted his approval of Kyle’s subtle aggression. He parried, jabbed, and blocked while keeping his cool. Alex didn’t know how the rest of them fought, but this one did it with grace and deadly precision. He realized suddenly that all the time he practiced with the Highlander, Kyle deliberately underexaggerated his skill. Alex smiled under the warm sun. Next time he wouldn’t hold back and if Kyle wanted to live, he’d do the same.
When he spotted Caitrina standing in the crowd, his gut went soft. He’d hated leaving their bed and the warmth of her body earlier. The memory of her body heated his blood now and he labored to control it.
“It isn’t over yet, Kidd,” David Pierce assured him with a friendly greeting.
Alex watched Kyle pummel his fist into his opponent’s face and then bring him to his knees with his claymore clutched in both hands. “It looks over to me, Pierce.”
He laughed at the English captain’s muttered curses while his man went down.
“Ah, the reason the sun rises in the morning.” He reached Caitrina, now standing alone, and took her hand to bring it to his mouth like Kyle told him to do. He kissed her knuckles once, twice. He never wanted to stop kissing her.
“When are we leaving fer Madagascar?” she asked him as a round of cheers went up for a triumphant Kyle.
“In a few hours,” he told her. “We’ll be dockin’ in Costa da Pimenta in West Africa first fer supplies. We’ll be needin’ plenty. Are ya excited about goin’?”
She nodded but lowered her gaze. “Of course, I am. ’Tis the kind of adventure I’ve always wanted.”
“Ya looked troubled, me love.”
She smiled and reached her hand up to his face. She traced her fingertips along his jaw, his chin. “I’m a wee bit concerned aboot my kin finding us. Sooner or later they will.”
“I will see to it when the time comes. Don’t trouble yerself with these thoughts, Caitrina.” He took her up in his arms and gazed into her eyes. “They will love me as much as ya do.”
She laughed, setting his heart to ruin. “Who said I loved ye, rake? Ye’re a mad fool.”
He dipped his grin to her lips and took her mouth like a starving beast. He hungered for her, for every part of her, body, mind, and heart. He had all of her. She didn’t need to tell him. He could see it in her smile, feel it in her kiss.
“Och, c’mon now,” Kyle groaned behind them. “Stay oot of the cabin until tonight, at least, aye? We have things to discuss.”
Alex broke their kiss and looked into her eyes. “He’s runnin’ out of times when bein’ yar cousin keeps me from beatin’ him senseless.”
“Ye have my thanks fer yer patience, dear Captain.”
His grin returned. He wouldn’t harm the lad and she knew it. Hell, how he loved her confidence in so many things. Gustaaf had told him how she led the charge to find him, spying Pierce’s ship from the crow’s nest. Fearless.
H
e released her, reluctantly, and turned to Kyle. “What is it, MacGregor?”
Kyle threw up his hands. “Ye mean to tell me neither of ye saw my victory over Lieutenant Caruthers?”
“Of course we saw it!” Caitrina let him off the hook too easily. “In fact, Alex told Captain Pierce that the fight was over before ’twas.”
Alex wasn’t surprised when the Highlander showed no sign of pride at all. He hadn’t forgotten the precision and mastery in Kyle’s arm, and how Kyle had hidden that from him. “I confess I was quite stunned to see how skillful a warrior ya truly are.”
“Alas,” Kyle bowed his head. Alex couldn’t tell if he was sincere or not. “Not as skilled as others, yerself among them.” Finally, he raised his guileless gaze to Alex’s. “Lieutenant Caruthers is English so I take less pride in defeating him.”
Alex laughed, mostly to himself. Whether Kyle was telling the truth or not didn’t matter. He wasn’t hiding anything vital. He was simply being the son of a renowned spy. “Then we’ll be continuing our practice?” he said, going along with the possible façade.
“If ye can spare the time between yer”—Kyle slid his sea-colored eyes to his cousin and let a shadow of a smile pass over his face”—endeavors, I could use the practice.”
“If the two of ye could cease speaking aboot fighting fer a moment,” Caitrina interrupted, “I’d like a word with ye, Kyle.”
“I’ll see ya both on board then,” Alex said, granting them their privacy. “We have much packin’ to do.”
He left them and moved on toward Anjali’s hut. He wanted to bid her farewell and leave the emerald brooch he’d pocketed from a woman in Lisbon. He would return to Parrot Cay with his wife and children, splitting their visits between the Caicos and Skye.
He smiled up at the heavens, eager to begin a new adventure.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Never in his wildest imaginings had Hendrik Andersen ever entertained the idea of traveling the seas with Scottish Highlanders. But here he was, aboard Stirling’s Pride, an enormous brigantine belonging to Captain Hamish MacKinnon, friend of the MacGregors, searching for Connor Grant’s daughter, who was kidnapped by Captain Kidd.
Hendrik laughed. It was amazing how it had all worked in his favor. When he woke up bound in the MacGregors’ castle and it dawned on him that Kidd had set sail without him, he was angry. He’d intended to sail to the Caribbean on Poseidon’s Adventure, but now he’d have to find a ship and a captain to sail it.
In a brilliant stroke of luck, it was soon discovered that Connor Grant’s daughter and Colin MacGregor’s son were missing. Hendrik had used every bit of information to move the MacGregors into action against Alexander Kidd. Of course the pirate had taken her, he’d told them. She was a pretty girl, after all, and the pirate certainly liked his girls pretty. Where did they think Andersen had found him? Aye, in a brothel, fresh out of a pretty girl’s bed.
A few times, his plan almost backfired when his hosts set their murderous glances on him while he fed their worst fears. They didn’t like him anymore, and as he sailed with them, they grew ever more dangerous. Any one of them could snap his neck or gut him in one clean swipe. They were brawny and brutal and he was thankful that he’d learned to conquer his fears. It was one thing he was grateful to William Kidd for teaching him.
“How far behind them d’ye think we are?”
Hendrik looked up into Colin MacGregor’s dark features and diamond-blue eyes. Who in blazes wouldn’t soil his breeches coming upon this one in a shadowy English alley? All the MacGregors were huge, strapping men with even bigger swords hanging from their plaids. They generally didn’t like strangers but they needed him to help them find their children.
He had to work hard to conquer the smirk creeping over his lips, but oh, when the MacGregors found Captain Kidd they would surely kill him first and take back their family after. Hendrik didn’t care if Kidd had Miss Grant and the lad or not. The chief had already given his word not to kill him if Andersen was wrong. Why would they kill him when he was only trying to help them? He had no proof that Kidd even had them. If they were missing for some other nefarious reason, let the MacGregors worry about it. He only wanted the map.
“We should reach the Sargasso Sea tomorrow,” he told Colin. “From there, I don’t know to which island Kidd will be sailing. I didn’t see the map.”
“Ye don’t know much,” Connor Grant said, joining them. “Ye were wrong aboot them docking in France. How do we know he came this way at all? What if he sailed back to the Colonies?”
Of all the Highlanders, Hendrik liked Grant the least. It was probably due to the fact that Grant had threatened to kill him if he mentioned what Kidd may have done to his daughter one more time. Andersen didn’t dare suggest that Miss Grant went with Kidd willingly. After searching for Alex for years, Hendrik had learned much about him. Alex, it turned out, was very much like his father when it came to women. He had many in every town, province, and village he visited. Except… He remembered something William had told him.
“His father hated the Colonies and would never have left his treasure there,” Hendrik told them. “The pirate sailed here, I know it. He may have sailed to the Caicos Islands. If I remember correctly, he was born there. Dogs return to their vomit, you know.”
Colin moved closer to him, his mouth slightly curled in a wry sneer. “Ye don’t like the pirate much d’ye, Andersen?”
Hendrik shook his head. This one he had to watch. All the warriors were quicker than lightning when it came to their weapons, but Colin dueled with his mind first. He was clever and watchful, often making Andersen fidget under his vigilant scrutiny.
“Why would I like a man who kidnaps women?”
“Yet ye traveled with him to Camlochlin and spoke on his behalf.”
Andersen softened his expression and smiled at more of the Highlanders moving in to hear his reply. Why did so many of them have to come? They were like their own little army of deadly men. Even the chief was on board, leaving Camlochlin in the care of one of his brothers.
“I had promised his father I would find him and get the map into his hands. I never said I knew him, only that I knew that the man before you was, indeed, Alexander Kidd.”
“Will we face much opposition on these islands ye speak of?” Malcolm Grant, Caitrina’s eldest brother, asked.
“Nothin’ we canna’ handle, Malcolm,” said a man leaning against the rail while he tested the flexibility of his bow. Andersen knew him to be William MacGregor, son of one of the most bloodthirsty MacGregors to ever live. Their bards sang of one they called the Devil and how he slew hundreds in his own, personal war against the Campbells years ago. William’s father, Brodie, rode with him and was the only one said to have enjoyed all the bloodshed. “If ye’re vexed, ye should have stayed home wi’ the women.”
“I’m not vexed, Will,” Malcolm told him with a baleful curl of his lips. “I merely wish to know how many of ye I’ll have to protect, beginnin’ with ye.”
Andersen watched some of the others smile at the banter. They all loved to talk about weapons, bleeding, and battle. They never actually fought, at least not in the month he spent with them. They lived on their island at peace with their neighbors. Or perhaps their neighbors were afraid of them. They practiced often though. Every damned day. Andersen couldn’t wait to be away from them.
“If we will reach these islands tomorrow,” Connor told the rest, “we should discuss a plan of defense. Cailean,” he called to his youngest son, “find yer uncle Rob and tell him to meet us in the galley.”
Andersen watched the lad set off to his task. He was thankful that the topic had veered away from him—even happier that they were going to plan a defense against Kidd. He had nothing against the pirate, or his father, truly. He just wanted to find the Quedagh Merchant. He knew its value, having seen the ship in person, even boarding it. Its cargo was priceless and Andersen would be damned if he sat by and did nothing while another pirate got rich
from doing nothing. He felt little remorse at the thought of the MacGregors killing his captain’s son. William Kidd hadn’t been that bad really. A bit guarded, but not cruel. It was a pity that Alex would have to die in order for him to take possession of the map. With Alex dead who would contest him? He almost couldn’t wait and stepped off to follow the Highlanders belowdecks.
Colin MacGregor’s hand on his chest stopped him.
“Wait here.”
Andersen smiled and consented easily. What else could he do? Fight them all himself? He wasn’t a fool. He would wait until he was a wealthy man and then he would go back to Camlochlin with an army of his own. He wondered how skilled they were against pistols and smiled at the sunset.
Trina watched the majestic silhouette of Poseidon’s Adventure’s double masts against the sunset backdrop. Soon the anchor would be raised and all hands would return to the deck.
Everyone but her and Kyle.
How would she tell Alex that she couldn’t continue on with him? An even better question was, How was she going to live without him? But she had to. She had to send him away. She couldn’t let him die because of her, and couldn’t let any of her kin die either. They might not fight, but she couldn’t take the chance. Kyle had agreed with her when she told him her concerns. Her father would never allow her to stay with Alex, pirating the seas. He would demand she return home and the instant Alex tried to stop him…
Nae. She had to stop the unthinkable from happening. She wouldn’t be the first lass in history to sacrifice her heart for those she loved. She wouldn’t wallow in her misery.
She wouldn’t.
“Caitrina?”
At the sound of Alex’s voice coming up behind her, she swiped her tears away and ran her sleeve across her nose.
He reached her and turned her around to face him. “What is it? Why are ya weepin’?”
He remained silent while she told him she couldn’t go with him and why. She would never forget the haunted look in his eyes, the heartbreak in his expression. When he tried to argue with her, she found the strength to hold fast from her love for him. Finally, he left her, walking off in the sand toward to sea. Gone from her for good.