Once A Pirate

by Bold, Diana

  “Lie down for awhile. Get some rest.”

  She nodded and crawled to the makeshift bed. “What about you? Shouldn’t you rest, too?”

  He shook his head. “I need to figure out where we are and start trying to row toward land. We weren’t far from shore when the storm hit, but we could have been swept a hundred miles farther out last night.”

  “We could still die, couldn’t we? We could just drift out here until we die of thirst or hunger.”

  He hated the resignation in her voice. Had he done that to her? She had once been such a fighter. “We have plenty of food and fresh water. We’ll make it. Just have a little faith in me.”

  “I wish I could,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I wish you were half the man I once thought you were.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Talon blinked and then blinked again. Disbelieving, he brought his hand to his eyes and gave them a vigorous rub. When he looked again, it was still there, a dark smudge on the horizon that could only be land.

  “Kate.” His voice was harsh and raspy from lack of sleep. By his calculations, it had been almost three days since they’d abandoned the ship, and he hadn’t slept at all.

  He reached out and touched Kate’s shoulder, shaking her awake.

  For a long moment, she resisted his efforts, but then she made a small sound of alarm and scrambled to her knees, making the boat rock. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He couldn’t control a wide grin. Somehow, with nothing more than a compass and sheer will, he’d brought them to dry land. Elation surged through him, chasing away the self‐doubt he’d wallowed in for the last few days. “We made it, sweetheart. We’re going to be all right.”

  Kate stared up at him, confusion darkening her sleepy green eyes. “We made it?”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulder and tipped her chin toward the west with his fingertip. The narrow strip of land was becoming more visible by the moment. “Land. Right there.”

  For a moment, she relaxed against him, her warmth and softness a balm to his bruised soul. Then she jerked away. “I told you never to touch me.”

  Talon’s momentary elation disappeared. He’d been a fool to think she’d forgiven him just because he’d managed to get her safely to shore. Hell, she still believed they would have been safer on the ship.

  He reached for the oars. “You win,” he told her, fighting the renewed pain of her rejection. “If you want me to keep my distance, I will. But don’t turn to me when your hate won’t keep you warm at night.”

  She stiffened her shoulders, but not before he saw the tremor that rocked her slim body. “How can you act as though I’m the one at fault? I gave you everything I had to give. My heart, my trust, my body. I loved you.” Her voice broke, and she lifted her gaze to meet his. “How did you expect me to react when I discovered you’d purposely set out to seduce me? That every look, every touch, every word between us was a lie?”

  Talon’s hands itched with the need to touch her, so he rowed with every ounce of strength that remained in his battered body. “I never lied to you. I may have kept some truths from you, but I didn’t lie.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “How can you look me in the eyes and say such things? Do you think I’m a fool?”

  Frustration coursed through him. “You haven’t given me a chance to explain.”

  “You think I should let you explain?” Her voice rang out over the water, incredulous. “What could you possibly say to excuse what your family has done to me?”

  Talon felt another little piece of his soul shrivel up and die. She was the one who had lied. If she really loved him, she would hear him out. She would trust him a little.

  “I was facing life in prison,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “The earl offered me a way out. Seducing a woman I didn’t even know seemed a small price to pay.”

  “And now?” Tears streaked unheeded down her sunburned cheeks. “Does the price of your freedom seem so cheap now?”

  He shook his head. “I had to make a decision the other night. There was more at stake than your innocence. There was more at stake than my pride and sense of honor.”

  “You have no honor. I know exactly what was at stake. An estate in Carolina. A way for a boy from the streets to better himself.”

  Talon sat back, stunned. He’d nearly forgotten about Holyoke. He’d never meant to accept it, had given up his dreams the moment his father had offered it as a tawdry bribe.

  But Daniel had left no stone unturned in his missive to Philip Carrington. He could only imagine how damning his brother had made his behavior sound.

  “I would never have hurt you this way to gain an estate. If you can think that, you never loved me. You never even knew me.”

  Kate flinched and then turned her face back toward shore. The stiffness in her shoulders told him she wouldn’t listen to any more excuses. She wouldn’t believe him if he told her about his men. She’d think they were an invention to gain back her trust.

  Well, he was through begging. He’d lived without love his entire life. He’d been a fool to reach for it now.

  He forced his exhausted muscles to pull toward the beach. The sooner they reached land, the sooner he could put Kate back on a ship to England.

  * * * * *

  Kate scrambled out of the skiff before Talon had finished rowing it in to the barren, deserted shore. Her abrupt disembarkment left the small boat rocking wildly, but she didn’t care.

  She had to get out. For days, she’d thought they would float forever.

  She’d been certain she’d die without ever walking on dry land again.

  Talon let out a string of curses as he fought to keep the boat from capsizing. “What the hell are you doing?”

  She ignored him, splashing through the last few feet of icy water and then running several yards up the beach. Sinking to her knees, she pressed her forehead against the grainy white sand in utter thanksgiving. The tears of relief and regret she’d been holding back came in a rush, streaming down her cheeks while harsh sobs racked her body.

  She was alive! They had made it despite impossible odds, and she was suddenly ashamed of herself for the horrible things she’d said to Talon. He might have seduced her, but he had also saved her life.

  If he was the heartless bastard she’d accused him of being, he would have left her to die with Daniel. He’d had nothing to gain by bringing her along.

  The boat glided up on the beach, and Talon got out. He traipsed back and forth, carrying the supplies from the boat to a small stand of strange-looking trees about fifty feet inland.

  He made no attempt to stop and ask her if she was all right.

  Up until twenty minutes ago, he would have. He would have tried one more time to reach out to her, risking her nasty comments. She’d finally managed to push him away.

  She lifted her head to see him kneeling beside a few pieces of wood, struggling to make a spark with a piece of flint. She watched him for several long moments, her guilt growing as she noticed the utter exhaustion in his cloudy blue eyes and the defeated slump in his broad shoulders.

  In contrast, she thought of the excitement and confidence shining on his beautiful bruised face when he’d woken her. She’d taken that away from him, after he’d gone without sleep and most of his share of the food and water for the last few days.

  Unsteady, she got to her feet and crossed the distance that separated them. It felt like a dozen miles instead of a dozen yards. By the time she reached him, he’d managed to get the fire started. A small, hungry flame licked at the kindling, growing stronger and brighter.

  It had been so long since she’d been warm. She longed to sit beside him and soak up the fire’s meager heat, but there were too many things that needed to be done. Talon was at the end of his strength. It was long past time to help him.

  Despite the anger and resentment simmering between them, they had to work together. Reaching dry land didn’t guarantee safety. Any number of things co
uld go wrong before they managed to find their way back to civilization.

  She sorted through their supplies, pleased to see there was enough food and fresh water to last a couple more days. Until now, she hadn’t appreciated the effort he had made to see they were prepared. Now she understood why he’d fought so hard to make sure they got this boat.

  She spread out the blankets, making a bed a few feet away from the fire. Talon glanced at her, and she wondered if he thought she was once again putting her needs before his. She didn’t blame him if he did. Lord knew she hadn’t been at her best these last few days.

  Gathering her courage, she dug out a fresh pair of breeches and a warm flannel shirt. “Here,” she said, offering the clothes as a gesture of peace. “Why don’t you change out of those damp clothes and try to sleep for awhile? You’ve been watching over me for days. Let me take care of you now.”

  He eyed her warily, and then his gaze flicked past her, resting on the bed. “No, you go ahead. It’s going to get cold tonight. I don’t want to let the fire go out.”

  “I can keep the fire going.” She shook the dry clothes in his direction. “Come on. Just take a little nap. We’ve got a few hours before dark. You’ll be of no use to me if you drop dead from exhaustion.”

  He sighed and took the clothes from her hand. “I am tired,” he admitted, pulling his damp shirt over his head and tossing it on the sand.

  She watched, unable to tear her gaze from the broad, golden expanse of his chest. He fumbled with the buttons on the soft flannel, lacking his usual dexterity. She batted his hands away and buttoned it for him, pierced with longing when her knuckles brushed the satiny warmth of his skin.

  “Thanks.” He gave her a searching gaze and attempted a wry smile. “Would you like to help me with my breeches, too?”

  She pulled away, remembering all the reasons why she was angry with him. “No, thank you. Never again.”

  “Can’t blame me for trying.” He shook his head then crawled over to the blankets and collapsed upon them in utter exhaustion. “Wake me when it gets dark. I’ll keep the wild things at bay.”

  “You are one of the wild things,” she chided, reaching over and tucking the blankets around him. “Who’s going to keep me safe from you?”

  His breathing deepened almost immediately, and she sat back on her heels, watching his face in the flickering light. With a sigh, she returned to the fire, reflecting morosely on everything that had led them to this moment.

  Her gaze was drawn again to the long fan of his lush lashes, the bristly growth of beard on his lean jaw. He looked so tousled and vulnerable in sleep. Even after everything that had happened, she had to fight the urge to go to him and smooth the worried frown from his brow.

  If only she could believe the things he’d told her this afternoon.

  He’d sworn he’d never lied to her. She didn’t want to admit she’d been a fool, so hungry for love and acceptance she’d made herself an easy target. But it had been painfully easy for him to win her trust.

  Unfortunately, her trust had been a fragile thing. It had taken very little to destroy it. You never loved me. You never even knew me. His words, and the disappointment lacing them, haunted her. He’d made it sound as though her love should have been stronger than Daniel’s revelations.

  But how dare he demand such blind loyalty when he’d never once told her that her love was returned? She sighed and buried her face in her hands, ignoring the encroaching darkness.

  Perhaps she should try to restrain her anger long enough to listen to whatever it was he had to say. Regardless, she would let him sleep through the night. He needed his strength for what lay ahead.

  Chapter Twenty

  Talon came abruptly, violently awake. He sat up, staring into the darkness that surrounded him, struggling to get his bearings. Where the hell was he?

  The sound of the sea, so close yet strangely muted, confused him further. Had he fallen asleep and let the lifeboat wander off course?

  “Talon?” Kate’s voice pierced the darkness, and she touched his back, making him flinch. “Are you all right?”

  He shifted to face her, taking in the small fire that burned to his left and the concern in her eyes. The soft, powdery substance beneath his hands clicked into place. Sand. They’d made it to dry land, and Kate had insisted he take a nap.

  Letting out a shuddering sigh, he scrubbed his face with a trembling hand. God, he was as weak and tired as he’d been when he’d first gotten out of prison. “It’s dark. You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

  “Actually, it’s almost dawn.” There was a popping noise as she put another piece of wood on the fire he’d started yesterday afternoon. “You needed to rest. It’s all right. I’m not afraid of the dark.”

  “Almost dawn?” That meant he’d slept nearly twelve hours. She’d remained awake all night, watching over him and tending the fire.

  It confused him, made him feel strange and unsettled. Why was she being so kind? He’d rather face her anger than this cool, impersonal concern.

  In any event, she looked exhausted. The dim, flickering light illuminated the dark shadows under her eyes. “Come lie down with me. Don’t worry about the fire. We’ll be warm enough if we share the blankets.”

  He held his breath, wondering if she’d reject him again. To his relief, she nodded and scooted across the few feet that separated them.

  “I haven’t forgiven you,” she warned, crawling under the blankets beside him. “But you’re right; if we’re to keep from freezing to death, we need to share our body heat.”

  Deep tremors racked her slim body. She lay stiff beside him, her teeth chattering. Talon was humbled to think she’d sat there freezing for hours on end while he’d lain here oblivious beneath a half‐dozen blankets.

  Ignoring her soft protest, he pulled her into the circle of his arms. “You little fool,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “Forgive me. Let me take care of you.”

  “I think perhaps I can forgive you. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust you again.”

  It was a start, more than he deserved. He held her tighter, thinking of the night they’d made love, wishing he’d had the foresight to tell her the truth then. “I’ll never abuse your trust again,” he vowed. “And I’ll get you back to England. I swear I will.”

  “We’ll see.” She burrowed a little closer to him and promptly fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  Of all the things Kate loved about Talon, waking up in his arms was one of the best. That much hadn’t changed. He exuded strength and warmth, and after going for days without those things, she was reluctant to relinquish them.

  She lay in his arms, pretending she was still asleep. While awake, she’d have to keep her distance; for now, though, she just wanted to rest against Talon’s broad chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart.

  Heat seared her eyelids. It was probably afternoon already. The sea lapped against the sand and a few strange-sounding birds called in the distance.

  She knew what she’d see if she opened her eyes. Strange trees, white sand and water that seemed to stretch on to eternity. A whole new world. A beautiful, lost, lonely place. It reminded her of Talon.

  No wonder he loved it so.

  He’d coaxed her into lying beside him with embarrassing ease, but she wasn’t sorry to have left her post in front of the fire. She’d sat there most of the night, watching him sleep, his long limbs sprawled out in boneless exhaustion, wishing she’d never found Daniel’s letter.

  If she hadn’t… Well, if she hadn’t, things would be so simple right now.

  She felt shockingly apathetic about Daniel’s death. Despite their differences, he’d been her husband, and she’d grown fond of him during the last few weeks. She should be weak with grief, but she couldn’t manage anything but a sense of emptiness and loss.

  Daniel had left her a widow. If Talon had meant the things he’d said, if he loved her as much as she loved him,
there would be nothing standing between them now.

  As if on cue, Talon’s arms tightened around her, the slight tension in his body giving him away. He was awake, and he probably knew she was awake, too. She should move away.

  She should move away, but she didn’t. She remained still, lost in memories of his touch and kiss. There must be something wrong with her to want him so badly after all he’d done.

  “Kate?” Her name was a mere breath of sound, his lips barely moving against her hair.

  She said nothing, her pulse jumping as his hand slid stealthily from her waist to her chest. His fingertips found her nipple through the salt-roughened material of the boy’s shirt she wore.

  This time, there was no tight binding to protect her; there was nothing but a thin layer of cloth and her own will, which seemed to have deserted her. All she had to do was pull away, tell him not to touch her, and she knew he would release her. He would never force himself on her.

  He plucked at her breast, causing an answering twinge deep in her womb. He shifted against her, and she felt the hard press of his erection against her hip. Startled, she opened her eyes, and her gaze locked with his.

  “I knew you were awake.” A note of satisfaction laced his voice. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me.”

  It would have been impossible if he weren’t so smug.

  “I don’t want you.” Shoving away, she got to her feet and strode to the fire, trying to stir some life into the embers.

  He groaned and thumped his head back against the sand. “And you call me a liar?”

  She ignored him. Inwardly, she berated herself for not pulling away the moment she’d woken up. She could have saved herself this embarrassment.

  Silence reigned behind her for several long moments. Then Talon heaved a huge sigh and joined her at the fire.

  “Here, let me. You’ll never get it going that way.” He produced the flint from his pocket and started striking it, his brows drawn together in an ominous frown. “If you want to help, you can go gather some more dry wood.”