by Jewel Adams
Corin swallowed hard; she didn’t dare look beyond the deep open vee that exposed the corded expanse of his trim waist. She forced her eyes up from the bulging thighs and other more potent evidence of his masculinity and looked directly into those relaxed, rich coffee eyes.
Sucking in her breath, she felt trapped in their eddy depths. He witnessed her brazen scrutiny and silently told her he liked what he saw when he took the liberty to see her as well.
A firing blush crept up her throat and she could feel the heat radiating from her face. Unable to end what she had started, her eyes fell upon his parted lips, smiling confidently at her from that fierce square jaw. Instead of being insulted, Corin felt an unfamiliar heat strike hard and fast in the most womanly part of her body.
What the hell was wrong with her? Corin had never reacted like this, never wanted to, but she seemed incapable of breaking the spell flowing between them.
The sudden ringing of a loud bell made her jump. Having severed his invisible hold over her, she moved with the crowd, hoping to lose the man and the unwanted power he wielded.
“Hear ye all, citizens and visitors of the gracious Governor of Charlotte Amalie. ‘Tis a warrant for the arrest of the pirate called Dragon.”
Someone in the crowd called out, “How much is the bounty, man?”
“Thirty gold pieces, my friend, if you’re brave enough to bring him in alive. Twenty if he’s dead.”
Another man in the crowd cried out, “Taint’ worth me life! That one’s no ordinary pirate.”
Corin frowned, unsure how to take it all. Their jest didn’t camouflage the serious intentions. Her humor deserted her.
She rubbed her bare arms when the man began to hammer the notice on the board. She didn’t like any of the feelings taking hold of her since seeing the harbor and what it held. She whispered to herself, “Charlotte Amalie? But how?”
The crowd began to break up. She walked on unsteady feet, drawn to the notice, yet afraid of what she might find. The elaborate handwriting flowed over the crisp parchment. Her gaze raced over the words until they found what they searched for… with shaking fingers she traced the date as if confirming its existence.
“June 18th, 1725…”
“It should be at least one hundred gold pieces.”
Jumping back, Corin’s frighten voice spoke out, “What?”
“The reward… ‘tis not enough.”
Confused by what she had just seen and having Hercules standing in front of her, Corin swayed. When his hand captured her arm, she tried to break free from the heat of his touch.
“Dear lady, I fear Charlotte Amalie’s noon sun is affecting you.”
“Yes, I guess. Please let go of me.”
His release came slowly as if he regretted obliging her request.
“Thank you.”
“Does the talk of pirates frighten you?”
Something close to anger flared in the man, making her wonder just how bad those pirates were.
“What? Oh no, I guess not, I’ve never known any.” Her words sounded as ridiculous to her ears as the soft laughter they earned from the man. His nearness must be confusing her. Corin couldn’t stop feeling she’d missed something important. She needed to think and started to walk away, but he fell in step with her.
“I hope you don’t have the call to see any, my lady.”
“Why would I?”
“The waters are full of them.”
Corin heard about the thieves on the open seas. How unsuspecting ships stumbled onto drug drops and the people were killed for their mistake. But why didn’t she think he meant that. Why?
“Then I will be careful.”
“Are you sailing soon?”
“I…no, maybe.” Corin’s thoughts became occupied by the coach coming down the street, causing her to stop and stare as it passed.
“That’s a coach.” She could have kicked herself for not keeping her thought to herself.
His blue eyes followed her intent interest in the common vehicle passing them. “Where are you from?”
“New Orleans.”
Corin didn’t miss the man’s surprise.
Rogan’s brows drew close. The fear he glimpsed wasn’t because of the notice. Neither did he think his presence confused her. He quickly lost any argument that he should not care what her problems were; he couldn’t make himself leave her side. Rogan could feel the hungry eyes following her.
Rogan started asking her what part of New Orleans, but she abruptly stopped.
Her ashen pallor made Rogan fear that she’d swoon. “What is it? Answer me!”
Her arm came up and pointed; he could see her lips were shaking too much to speak. The girl’s enlarged eyes never left the unfortunate soul the governor hung that morning. Rogan detested the practice of leaving such a sight up as a warning to others not to thieve.
Taking hold of her shoulders, he turned her about and away from the ugly scene. Rogan brought his arm about her waist and gently drew her against him. An unfair advantage, due to her shocked senses, but he wasn’t beyond taking it as he led her away. His palms were alive against the gentle woman in their hold. Slim, she felt like satin, and she moved sensually beneath his hold. The slight flare of her lovely hips brushed against his thigh, creating a fierce response in his tightening groin. Pure strength and willpower kept him from embarrassing them both by displaying what he wanted from the lady. Rogan didn’t remember experiencing such a strong and instant attraction for any woman, it felt unsettling yet extremely stimulating.
But for all her bold attire or lack of it, he didn’t believe the lady would willingly submit to the roughish thoughts taking hold of him.
“Why did they do such a thing?”
Caught off guard, “What?”
“Hang that poor man, and then leave him there. Why it’s barbaric and sick!”
“'Tis the way and not uncommon. Even in New Orleans they still practice hanging.”
His statement made her steps falter.
Corin wanted to run, be sick and cleanse away the fear taking root. It couldn’t be possible. Pushing the thoughts away, she tried to concentrate on why she came here.
“I must find the police.”
“Po…lice?”
“Law, someone in authority.”
“There is the governor…”
“I guess he’ll do. Where is he?”
He fought with answering, “It is that way.” No, he couldn’t tell her how inappropriate her attire might be. Rogan searched the crowd, looking for Dan and Terry, waving them back to follow.
Every response, no matter how slight, came to him. That she didn’t refuse his hold stopped surprising him; he almost wondered if she realized he remained. No, the lady’s attention became captured by what she saw around her, and she’d taken the insults given to her entreating smiles very hard. Instinctively, Rogan realized this woman wasn’t what she appeared to be. Women that gave their treasures freely weren’t affected by what others thought. She suffered the reaction of a lady unaccustomed to the ways of the streets.
And yet he couldn’t place her with the proper women or society dames.
The nervous way she tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to straighten her slight blouse tore at Rogan’s senses.
Corin didn’t understand why he stayed with her. The eerie feelings inside her only grew more pronounced as they walked through the strange streets. The looks she received made her grateful for the large man’s presence. More than once, she caught the lecherous way men’s eyes followed her. But the disgust she glimpsed and felt from the women made her begin to shake. It didn’t take a fool to realize she wasn’t up to their standards. The only group she came close to fitting into made her sensibilities revolt.
When they entered the cool interior of the place he brought her to, Corin took a moment to adjust to the opulent surroundings.
When the uniformed man looked curiously up from his papers, Corin couldn’t put it off any longer. She turned to her
escort. “Thank you for bringing me. I hope it wasn’t out of your way.”
“You can be sure it wasn’t, my lady.”
The formality he used caused Corin to straighten. Her pride stepped forward; she didn’t want to show him anything that would demean herself in his eyes. She didn’t care why she felt so strongly, she just wanted the respect he held her in to stay in those beautiful dark eyes.
“I better go.” Turning away from him, she forced herself to walk determinedly to the desk.
“I need to see the governor, please.”
The man’s eyes were shameful the way they moved over her. The half-smile he gave her infuriated Corin beyond all the others.
“He’s busy.”
“Really, and if I screamed at the top of my lungs, would he still be busy?”
His eyes grew large over her threat. Corin took a deep breath to ensure he believed her. She’d done the same thing once in grade school, and both times it worked beautifully.
“Come this way, please.”
He opened the double doors and she followed. A portly man sat behind a ridiculously large desk. The brocade waistcoat and vest he wore over the lace ascot shirt nearly became her undoing. She decided the man must be dying in this heat. Taking a peek beneath the table, she almost spoke out her thoughts over the lace stockings and garters that accompanied the outfit.
“Whom shall I say is requesting an audience?”
“Miss Corin Elizabeth Ann McCloud.” She wished she possessed ten more names to throw in just so the pompous ass would have to repeat them. The whole procedure sounded comical, the man being no more than ten feet in front of them.
All he got for his effort was a rude ‘humph.’
Turning back to her, he asked. “And what is the nature of your audience?”
Already having put up with more than she could tolerate, Corin walked past the red-faced man and went to stand directly in front of the desk. She waited patiently for the man’s spectacled eyes to look at her.
“Good day, Governor.”
She put him in an uncomfortable position and enjoyed his dilemma.
“Good day to you, Miss McCloud.”
“I have some very tragic information to tell you, sir. If it is all right, I would prefer to speak face to face.”
The man leaned back in his chair and seemed to contemplate her rather rushed outburst before dismissing the man throwing daggers her way.
Corin couldn’t help but turn to watch his dismissal. It was then she realized her escort never left at all, but stood only a foot or so behind her. Flustered, she didn’t dare look at him and maintain her composure, but before she turned back to the governor, her self-appointed guardian winked at her.
“Well young woman, what is the tragedy?”
She came there to tell them, but it suddenly seemed so pointless. “I… there was a fierce storm at sea.”
“How long ago?”
“I’m not sure exactly; I must have been unconscious for some time.”
“What port did you sail from?”
“Port? It would be New Orleans.”
“When did you leave?”
“Saturday morning…”
“That’s only five days ago. Rogan, is it too far to be that much off course?”
Corin tried not to show her agitation over the man bringing her guardian into their conversation. Rogan? Such an unusual name, but it did fit him.
“Miss?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I asked what happened?”
“The storm, it was awful, there was this frightening blue light…When I came around, there was no one left.”
“You mean the whole crew washed over?”
“Yes, sir. Can you take out a search party?”
“And where might we start? You hail from New Orleans, and in five days you are in Charlotte Amalie. I’m sorry, but you were unconscious for some time, I’m afraid. When did you wash up?”
“Wash up?” His words and the meaning seemed to move through her at an incredible speed, like the blue light. Closing her eyes at the memory, “I…the date…on the notice…”
“Rogan! For God’s sake, catch her!”
John didn’t need to yell, Rogan sensed her weakness even before her knees gave out lifting her up in his arms.
“John, I’ll take care of the lady; she obviously has no relatives about.”
“I think it would be wise; she must get some decent clothes, Rogan. Though it is a treat…”
Rogan gave his friend a warning glance that ended the old man’s musing.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take our leave by the back entrance… she’s already created quite a stir in your city.”
“By all means.”
John held the door for the man. “Rogan, we need to talk.”
“Tonight John, right now I’ve other more enticing duties to perform.”
Chapter Three
Nowhere to run
“Stay close to her.”
The large man smiled in understanding over the captain’s order. He would have been surprised if the man hadn’t taken notice of the lass. If only she could keep him away from the destructive course he had set his life on these last years.
Dan moved back, pulling the door quietly shut in order not to wake the lady. He moved back into the shadows and took up his vigil, wondering who needed him more this night. Terry would be with the captain should anything go amiss. That scoundrel Billings wasn’t to be trusted, but then none of the low life Rogan Drake fell into company with would come close to being called gentlemen.
Spitting on the floor in disgust, he folded his massive arms across the equally expressive chest. Rogan was right about one thing: the pretty lass inside the room needed someone’s protection. That she seemed unaware of the danger following her this afternoon made her more vulnerable to what lurked in these streets.
~ * ~
The moonbeam cutting through the open window intruded into the dreamless darkness. Her arm came up to wave away the troubled thoughts invading her sleep.
Corin bolted up and gripped the soft cover against her body. “I’m…naked. Oh, Gawd.”
Groping at the silky sheet, she pulled it about her, berating herself for fainting. She remembered what that man said about New Orleans—she couldn’t have drifted that far.
“But it can’t be possible…1725? No, I won’t believe it. I can’t!”
Corin scooted off the large four-poster bed and frantically started a search for her clothes. “Damn him!”
The image of the man made her groan and pull the sheet closer as a heated blush stained her cheeks.
She stopped in front of the gown draped over the chair. Corin blew up at her bangs in disgust. “This won’t do.”
Her stubbornness not to touch the fluffy thing only lasted a few seconds over her distress at being naked. But before her fingers could touch the lovely pink dress, the voices and approaching steps sent her flying back to the bed. Corin barely managed to take a relaxing pose and fake sleeping when the door opened. She kept her eyes closed and forced her breathing to be slow and easy.
“No doubt she is exhausted from her ordeal. No one’s reported any ship going down. The governor is going to send out a search party to comb the coast in the morning. They should find wreckage if nothing else.”
She didn’t need to see him; his presence filled her senses.
“How did the lass ever survive?”
“When she wakes, I’ll be sure and ask her. Don’t leave her. We’ll be back late.”
“Be careful, Rogan.”
“Aye, a pirate like Billings would love to cut my throat. Too bad he’s a coward.”
“A sneak like that is unpredictable.”
They left, closing the door behind them.
“Pirates?” The air rushed out of her; everything was worse than she believed. “But how did it happen?”
Before panic took hold, Corin must get away and back to the Raven. If they found the sch
ooner, Corin instinctively knew she’d be lost. The ship promised the only way out of this place. “I must get back to New Orleans.”
She gathered up the clothes and laid them out on the bed. She nearly let out a squeal of nervous laughter. “A corset? Sorry, not my style.” She refused to think about the clothes, knowing she had never worn anything close to them. But all were of delicate quality and exquisite to touch. Laces and satin of the richest textures she never knew existed. Corin held them up to her cheek, unable to resist the pure womanly reaction to feel such finery.
The thin chemise was cool and utterly feminine against her bare skin. She held up the sheer silk stockings and moaned over not being able to wear them. Their destruction would be guaranteed as she made her way back to the Raven. With great care, she folded them and placed them inside the chemise before pulling the satin bow securely about her breasts.
Corin realized the full voluptuous skirt of the dress would probably trip her without the volumes of petticoats beneath it and grudgingly put them on. “At least until I’m out of here.”
With more haste, Corin pulled the beautiful silk gown over the ensemble, thankful the buttons were in the front. The low, revealing cut of the dress fought all her efforts, and she didn’t have the time to waste trying to cover what refused to be hidden.
Her hands crushed the dainty slippers in her hand. “These won’t do!” On hands and knees, she searched everywhere trying to find her deck shoes. She almost shouted when her efforts succeeded in locating them beneath the bed where they’d been tossed.
“You are an inconsiderate lout, Rogan. They are important to me!”
After slipping them on past the mounds of lace and silk bunched up around her waist, Corin clumsily came to her feet. Standing up before the large mirror was a mistake. The image she faced couldn’t be her. Corin’s fingers nervously smoothed the gown. The evidence shattered all the denials against where she found herself. She maneuvered the thick dark hair into a satiny rope down over her shoulder. Taking one of the ribbons from the discarded corset, she tied the braid off and let the mass of waves fall freely over her breast.