“Have a care for the ropes, Miss,” said the first mate. “They’ve tripped many a men on deck.”
Jesse fidgeted with her silk dress. This would be the only reason I would trip on deck.
The dress was one of many Della had given her. She hadn’t worn a dress since she was eight. It felt odd and hindered every movement she made. She much preferred trousers.
She gave him a slight nod. “I shall.”
“I’ll join you in a bit.” Dulac helped her with her chair.
She merely smiled at him before making her way up on deck. Crossing her arms, she watched the men work. She wished she had something to do to take her mind off things.
Jesse was anxious to arrive in New Orleans, but her heart ached. The strong desire to find her father filled her, and while she had at first intended to hop a ship to Virginia, she knew all Dulac had to do was snap his fingers. Her body would respond to anything he commanded of it. While her heart felt the same way, her mind kept interfering.
She leaned against the rail and watched the seagulls dip and dart through the air. The opportunity will present itself, and I will escape. I just know it.
* * * *
August 20, 1900
Port of New Orleans
Jesse leaned against the rail, chewing a hole through her lower lip. They had been docked for over an hour, and she fretted over Dulac’s dilly-dallying. She could only assume he had sent word to his mates and was waiting for their arrival. She hadn’t been able to drag herself away from the rail. In fact, she had steadily watched the crowded docks for any sign of the Lifesaving Service.
She jumped when Dulac laid his hands on her shoulder. His silky lips pressed to her ear, and she fought the passionate chill that rose. She had to keep her wits about her and not act like a silly woman.
“Are you ready?”
She scanned the crowd once more and reluctantly nodded her head. They must not be wearing their uniforms. He doesn’t want to cause a scene.
He sighed and turned her to face him. “While I understand you are anxious to meet my parents, I feel we should stay that visit for tomorrow. I have sent someone to book us a room at The Hotel Monteleone.”
Her mouth fell open. He’s taking me to his childhood home? Could it be he isn’t going to turn me in?
“Let’s go. I have plans for you, my dear.” He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled like he had a huge secret.
Dulac placed his hand on her back, just like in her dream, and tried to urge her toward the plank. Jesse’s feet remained firmly planted to the spot.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Her mind was made up. She was tired of worrying whether he was going to turn her in or not. She would much rather know. She raised her chin defiantly.
“I overheard you talking to the captain.”
His brows drew together as his face filled with confusion. “About what?”
She steeled her nerves by taking a deep breath. “About turning me in for piracy.”
His mouth dropped, and she hurried to have her say. “So where’s your men from the Lifesaving Service? Are they hidden in the crowd? Or are you going to bring me straight to headquarters?”
She trembled from a combination of fright and anger. He seemed completely stunned. He opened his mouth several times and scratched his head in consternation. He pointed his finger in thought. “Are you talking about when we first came aboard?”
“You know good and well I am.”
His face relaxed, and he grabbed her by the shoulders. “You must have heard me telling Captain LeBlanc about how the quartermaster, Bart, divided up all of LeBlanc’s treasure amongst everyone, including Jesse. That would be you.”
She blinked several times before the words sank in. “Treasure? For me? When were you going to tell me?”
“Over dinner tonight, but you’ve ruined that little surprise,” he said and grunted.
A lightness entered her heart as embarrassment flooded her face with heat. “Oh...I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions.”
Dulac pulled her close. “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later tonight.”
A half hour later, they arrived at the hotel, and Dulac helped her out. He ushered her past the doorman and into the lobby. She gasped in awe at its grandeur.
“It’s beautiful,” she gushed as Dulac seated on the lobby’s gold settee.
“Wait here while I see to our room.” Seconds later, he was back. “We have the next best room facing the Mississippi.”
Jesse smiled. “I don’t believe we’ll have time to enjoy the view.”
They followed the bellhop to the room, and Dulac made Jesse wait while the bellhop opened the door and took their luggage in. Then he tipped the lad and turned to her.
“Ready?” he smiled and swept her into his arms.
She slid her arms around his neck as he carried her across the threshold. He kicked the door shut and brought her to the bed. He sat with her on his lap and kissed her.
Warmth rushed through him as their mouths melded together. Dulac closed his eyes and let the passion run its course through him. His hands caressed the silk dress covering her body, and when flesh demanded to meet flesh, he released her from the kiss.
“Time for the clothes to go,” he whispered huskily. Her eyes were dark with desire, and it was all he could do to keep from ripping her dress off. Soon she sat in just her chemise and stockings. He lifted the white fabric to reveal her soft fleshy curves. His groin tightened, and he paused to suckle first one breast and then the other. Jesse moaned and threw her head back as his tongue swirled over her sensitive nipples. He then slowly licked from one point to the other, lingering in the crevice between her bosom.
Her hips bucked, and she tried to pull him closer. He let go of her and shook a finger. “I’m just beginning the torture, my love.”
His fingers touched the smoothness of her right thigh as he released the hose from the garter belt. He took his time rolling the hose down, enjoying the ecstasy flickering over Jesse’s face as he caressed her flesh. Her breath came in short gasps, and her hands clenched. Once the other hose was off, he smoothly pushed her back on the bed but remained kneeling between her legs. “Time for me to plunder your treasure.”
* * * *
August 21, 1900
They stood on the doorstep of Dulac’s home, and Jesse nervously hid behind Dulac as they waited for the door to be answered. Her stomach was in knots over meeting his mother.
“Welcome home, Cap’n Dulac.” The red-haired butler smiled. “Yer mum’s waiting fer ye in the parlor.”
“Thank you, Scotty,” Dulac replied, pulling Jesse to his side. “May I introduce my sweetheart, Jessamine.”
The Irishman’s smile deepend. “Well, ’tis about time. Yer mum’ll be thrilled.”
They were quickly ushered inside and into the parlor.
“Cristienne!”
A strawberry-blonde woman rushed to her son and gave him a long, heart-warming hug. Then she stepped back, and while she smiled at Jesse, her words were for Dulac.
“Is this her?”
He nodded and pulled Jesse forward. His mother enveloped her in the same warm fashion as she had her son, but that was the least of the surprises. It was all Jesse could do to keep her mouth from falling open in shock. For while she had expected Dulac’s mother to be a woman of high fashion, she had not expected her to be wearing bloomers. She had assumed the lady would be an old-fashioned, dresses-only type of woman.
“Oh, dear, I am so happy to meet you,” the woman assured her.
Jesse took a seat beside Dulac on the loveseat. His mother sat in one of the wing-backed chairs close to her son. She patted his knee.
“You are just in time to see my new bicycle. We just came back from a ride,” she gushed. She smoothed the sides of her hair, but it was hardly out of place.
“Where did you find this one?” Dulac sat back and put his arm around Jesse.
“The Western Wheel Works in New York. I
t’s a Crescent bicycle.”
“And father? Is he here?”
His mother giggled. “He’ll be down after he changes his clothes. He fell into a mud puddle while getting off his bicycle. At least is wasn’t in front of our fellow wheelmen.”
“So he’s finding things to do in his retirement?”
His mother’s face brightened. “He loves it. The girls and I keep him very busy. If he’s not shopping with us, he watches the little ones ... with the help of Scotty, of course.”
“Well, no wonder my ears have been burning,” boomed a male voice from the hallway.
All heads turned toward a man who was an older version of his son. Jesse and Dulac stood as the two men shook hands. Jesse held out her hand, but instead of the firm handshake she was used to, she received instead a gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles. While it flattered her deeply, it made her feel awkward as hell.
“Welcome to our home,” he said and smiled.
“Thank you.”
“You two must be famished. I know I am,” Father Dulac bellowed. “Let’s finish our reunion over the roast I smell.”
Jesse’s stomach rumbled at the thought and smell of real home cooked food. She couldn’t remember meals with her own parents, and she was sure the pubs she had gone to wouldn’t compare. Therefore, she didn’t participate in the table conversation, opting instead to enjoy every morsel. Only after she was through did she feel bad about eating so much. Her stomach felt as if it were about to explode.
Dulac laughed at her. “That’s my little pig.”
“Oink oink.”
She sat back in her chair and started to put her hands behind her head, but immediately thought better of it. Instead, she folded her arms across her lap, leaned back against the chair and sighed contentedly. “That was good. Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome,” Mother Dulac replied.
Jesse drifted off as Dulac caught up on the lives of his many sisters. The stress of the day and the fine meal had made her sleepy.
“Jesse, wake up.”
Her eyes flew open, and she jumped guiltily. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” his mother sympathetically admonished. “’Tis not a crime to be tired.”
Dulac rose and held out his hand to her. “Father, Mother, I guess ’tis time we head back to the hotel.”
“Nonsense,” his mother admonished. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll stay here. We have plenty of guest rooms for Jessamine to use, and you’re room is just the way you left it.”
Dulac looked at his father. “Are you sure?”
“More than sure,” the older man replied.
Dulac glanced at Jesse. “Does that sound fine with you?”
She nodded. “Aye. Seems like a winner of an idea for me. If you’re okay with it.”
He smiled like a schoolboy. “Then I shall send Scotty to fetch our belongings. And while he does that, I can show you about the house.”
Chapter 23
August 21, 1900, Evening
The next night, Jesse sat at the dressing table in her bedroom. Fresh from a bath, she brushed her wet hair. Her feet ached from all the walking she had done that day.
She looked at the stack of shopping bags and boxes in the corner. Dulac’s parents had spent too much money on her, and guilt plagued her.
A light tapping on the French doors drew her away from her thoughts.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dulac called softly from balcony. “Let me in, or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff. And I’ll blow your house in!”
She rolled her eyes as she slipped on aching feet to unlock the doors. She opened them just a crack. His face was hidden in shadows, but his large frame was outlined by the moonlit night behind him. “My feet hurt, and I’m tired. Go to bed, Dulac.”
He merely chuckled as he gently pushed the door further open. “Not a chance.”
After locking the door behind him, he lifted her in his arms and set her tenderly on the bed. She started to protest, but he hushed her as he sat by her feet. He then cradled one delicate, perfumed foot in his left hand, and with the right hand, he proceeded to give her the massage of her life.
He started with her toes, rolling each one between his thumb and forefinger. Then he moved his thumb in circles over the bottom of her foot, and she sunk deeper into the mattress as her muscles relaxed. His fingers worked their magic, and all she could do was groan with delight.
“Mmmmm,” she murmured appreciatively. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”
He continued to massage her feet and legs but remained strangely quiet. When he didn’t answer her, she propped herself up on her elbows and rose her left eyebrow. “Well?”
He smiled, but she caught the dark shadow in his eyes. “Her name was Consuella, and before you get jealous—”
“I don’t get jealous.”
He gave her a dubious look. “She was just a meaningless fling. Someone I met while at port.”
She sank back on the bed. “So she’s not someone you would bring home to meet dear old mummy, huh?”
He grunted. “I should say not. One doesn’t usually bring whores home.”
Coldness washed over her, and she sat up, pulling her legs under her. “You thought I was a whore.”
He paused, and she saw his left eye begin to twitch. His blue eyes darkened. “I also thought you were a boy, but I got over that, didn’t I?”
She crossed her arms. “Does it even matter that I am neither?”
“You’re not listening to me.”
She cupped her ears. “What?”
Dulac smiled, and she kicked him. She snarled, “I’m not joking.”
He crawled across the bed and pinned her against the frame. “I don’t want to fight. I’m sorry.”
He kissed her, and she had to be honest with herself. His lips were magical. Hell, even the angry kiss he’d just given her had been good. She forced herself to frown. She couldn’t let him know just yet she’d accepted his apology.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” she announced as huffily as possible. “Get off the cover and go back to your room.”
Jesse tugged on the cover until he moved, and she could get under them. She buried her head in the pillow until he got over his exasperation and left.
* * * *
Midnight
Jesse stood in her nightgown outside Dulac’s bedroom. The wood floor of the balcony was cold against her bare toes, reminding her of a ship’s deck. She held her hand as if to knock, then instead tried the doorknob. It turned easily, and she slipped quietly inside.
She had come to apologize, but instantly realized she wouldn’t get to until morning. Dulac’s soft snores indicated he was beyond caring at the moment. Despondently, she sat down in a nearby chair to wait for him to wake.
Just being in the same room with him seemed to calm her, and her tiredness washed over her. She couldn’t resist closing her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was startled awake.
She woke feeling as if someone was watching her. The chair she sat in was next to the bed and faced the French doors. Her eyes focused on the silhouette of someone outside the French door’s window. Her heart jumped in her throat, and she checked to see if Dulac was still in his bed. The fact that he was did nothing to calm her fear.
Carefully, she slid her hand down her leg to the knife belted to her thigh. Her calm returned when her fingers touched the cool hilt of her blade. LeBlanc had a surprise if he thought he was going to kidnap her. She’d kill him first and would just have to get over the guilt.
Stealthily, she slipped to the floor and crawled toward the doors. She felt like a ship’s cat stalking her prey. She actually wanted to charge the door but forced herself not to. Several long seconds later, she was beside the door with her back to the wall. Ever so slowly, she used the tip of her blade and slightly moved the curtain away from the window. At the same moment, the peeping tom tapped lightly on it. Jesse jumped, and the curtain fluttered. But the peeper wasn’
t scared away.
“Cristienne?” whispered a soft, feminine voice. “It’s me. I heard you were home and had to see you.”
The jealousy Jesse had denied earlier rose to the surface. With the grace of a cat, she rose from her crouch and boldly pushed back the curtains. The hair on the back of her neck rose like a cat bristling at a dog. She couldn’t help snickering as the woman softly yelped at her sudden appearance.
“Can I help you?” Irritation laced her words.
The woman started to run but thought better of it. She stood up straight and placed a hand on her hip. “Who the hell are you?”
As a means of intimidation, Jesse crossed her arms and carefully tapped the knife against her chin. “Well, let me see, who the hell am I? Ah, yes, I remember now. His girlfriend.”
The news shocked the pants-clad woman. She hesitated before dashing off without a word. Jesse watched the woman slip over the balcony rail and into the night. She narrowed her eyes and turned back toward the bed, intent on waking her so-called-fiancé. She was slightly disappointed to see he was already awake and had apparently witnessed the whole thing.
“Well?” she drawled. “Who was that?”
“Isabella.”
“And who is she?”
He cleared his throat. “My childhood sweetheart.”
* * * *
August 22, 1900, Morning
“Jess, wake up.”
She growled. “Why? We’re not on ship, and we don’t have chores.”
Dulac shook her. “Let’s go for a bicycle ride before breakfast.”
Through bleary eyes, she studied him. “I don’t know how.”
She pulled the cover over her head. “Let me sleep.”
He pulled the cover off her and the bed. “You mean to tell me you have never ridden a bicycle?”
She glared at him. “Yeah, before I became a pirate I did, but ships and bicycles don’t mix well. It’s been too long.”
He held out his hand. “Old habits die hard.”
Reluctantly, she let him help her out of bed. She grumbled the whole time she dressed and even while she pulled her hair back with a ribbon. In fact, Dulac had to hush her as they slipped out of the house and out to the carriage house.
A Pirate's Kiss Page 20