Once Upon a Pirate: Sixteen Swashbuckling Historical Romances

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Once Upon a Pirate: Sixteen Swashbuckling Historical Romances Page 44

by Merry Farmer


  She hesitated only a moment before coming to her knees and opening her arms.

  He put his hands on her waist and lifted, wondering what it would be like to wake up with this courageous woman beside him every day.

  It was laughable. He’d need a bigger bunk.

  “My name is Lázaro,” the pirate said as he lifted her effortlessly.

  She put her hands on his biceps to steady herself, remembering how safe she’d felt in his arms. “As in risen from the dead?” she blurted out, gobsmacked by the hard muscle beneath her fingers. “That can’t be your real name.”

  His smile settled her nerves. With his long hair tied back in a queue, he looked very civilized, dashing even. “A pirate never reveals his real name,” he replied.

  He set her down on the planked floor, but kept his warm hands on her waist until she got used to the movement of the ship. She was suddenly struck by something unusual about his eyes.

  “They are two different colors,” he explained. “One green, one brown.”

  He’d sensed her fascination. Clearly, she wasn’t the first woman to notice those intriguing eyes. She resolved to be more cautious before she spoke. If she’d kept her mouth shut on Sankt Thomas…

  Food For Thought

  A tap at the cabin door brought Lázaro back from the brink. He’d almost surrendered to the temptation to pull the Danish woman into his arms and kiss her luscious lips. “Your dinner, señora,” he announced, withdrawing his hands from her waist when the galley boy entered with a tray.

  “Gracias, Pedro,” he said. “On the desk, por favor.”

  He waited until the lad had left before moving his chair to the desk. “Is it permitted to know your name?” he asked, motioning for her to sit. “Señora seems formal for a guest in my cabin.”

  Her puzzled frown as she accepted the invitation indicated surprise at his courtly manners. It was a pleasant change to allow the noble blood in his veins to dictate the way he treated his captive.

  “Jakobsen,” she murmured. “Señora Jakobsen.”

  He was disappointed not to learn her given name, but if he was patient…

  She surveyed the array of roots, tubers and fruit on the large platter. “There’s so much food here,” she said.

  “Con permiso,” he said, leaning on a corner of the desk and resting his ankle atop his knee. “I will share with you.”

  Her blush warmed him. He wished the prudish blouse revealed more of her cleavage. From his vantage point he’d be able to see if the flush spread to…

  “What do you intend to do with me?” she asked, jolting his carnal thoughts back to the cabin.

  He dragged his eyes from her breasts to gaze into her eyes. “To be honest,” he admitted, offering a piece of cassava, “I am not sure.”

  His pleasant arousal turned to granite when she licked her lips and took the cassava into her mouth from his fingers.

  Heidi wasn’t sure what had come over her. Eating from a pirate’s fingers! By rights, she should be afraid of this criminal who had control of her destiny. The tight pantaloons stretched across impressive thigh muscles and an unmistakable male arousal had set her heart aflutter and addled her wits. When he’d leaned forward and offered the cassava, the neck of his shirt had fallen open to reveal a chiseled chest, lightly dusted with dark hair. The next thing she knew, the cassava was in her mouth and she’d licked his fingers.

  She fiddled with the top button of her blouse, suddenly feeling like a prude. Men like Lázaro weren’t interested in prudes.

  What?

  She swallowed the cassava, struggling to tamp down the tide of wanton thoughts washing over her. “I apologize,” she stammered, lest he think her a common whore. “The heat…and the events of the day…”

  “Of course,” he replied, biting into a slice of casabe bread with perfect white teeth. “You must be hungry. If you like something hot, try the ajicito pepper, or there’s pineapple.”

  Already perspiring under his unsettling gaze, she chose the pineapple. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked.

  “You’d have drowned when we scuttled the Hekla.”

  The pineapple lost its sweet taste. “You drowned all the passengers, except me?”

  He shook his head. “We drove her aground on Culebra. She was close enough to dry land for them to wade ashore. Last I saw of them, they were doing just that.”

  Her emotions were all at sea. Pirates didn’t just save women from drowning out of the goodness of their hearts. “No one will pay ransom for me.”

  He picked up a napkin and dabbed the juice from her lips, then wiped her sticky fingers. “I don’t intend to ransom you.”

  She thought she might drown in the intensity of those mismatched eyes, but then his smile fled and he moved away abruptly to sit on the chest near the bunk. She concentrated on the food, though her stomach was in knots. She’d either said or done something to annoy him. It would be better to bide her time. Eventually, an opportunity for escape might present itself.

  The prospect was oddly depressing. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed the company of a well-mannered, handsome man.

  Lázaro gripped the edges of the chest, filled with regret, and remorse. No wonder Señora Jakobsen was nervous, as any decent woman would be finding herself in the hands of a pirate who professed to not knowing what to do with her.

  He chuckled inwardly. He knew exactly what he’d like to do with the voluptuous Dane if he got her into his bunk. Or even on the floor. He couldn’t deny he was drawn to her. In different circumstances…

  But his fate had been sealed years ago when he’d taken up the life of a pirate. He’d had little choice if his family was to avoid starvation, but his reasons would mean nothing to a woman like…

  “What is your given name?” he asked, suddenly frustrated at not knowing.

  “Heidi,” she murmured, still staring at the platter.

  He inhaled deeply as her name conjured visions of fresh air and faraway fields and forests that played havoc with his male urges. “I’m Maximiliano,” he said.

  She looked up at him and nodded. “I like that better than Lázaro.”

  Haven

  Heidi did her best to stifle a yawn, but Maximiliano noticed. “You’re tired,” he said, getting up from the chest and proffering a hand. “We’ll go up on deck for a breath of air, then you must sleep.”

  She stared at his long, elegant fingers. “You’re not how I imagined a pirate would be,” she confessed, accepting his help to rise.

  “Don’t be fooled by outward appearances,” he warned. “Beneath my good manners lurks the heart of a criminal, a ne’er-do-well, a thief.”

  The undisguised amusement in his voice reassured her. The firm grip of his warm hand as he led her up a narrow companionway made her feel ridiculously safe. When they emerged into the cool night air, she realized the ship lay at anchor. “We’ve stopped,” she whispered, afraid to disturb the peaceful tranquility of the sheltered cove.

  “Beautiful, is it not?” he asked, looking up at the blanket of stars. “It’s almost too still. That means heavy weather on the way. Even the toads sense it.”

  He was right. The creatures whose calls filled tropical nights had fallen eerily quiet. “The calm before the storm,” she replied.

  He chuckled. “Sí.”

  Silent minutes passed, then he revealed, “This is our hidden hideaway. The navies of powerful nations have hunted for this cove and never found it. You’re privileged to be one of the few people to know our secret, Heidi Jakobsen.”

  Her heart thudded in her ears, drowning out the distant whirring of cicadas. Now, he’d have no choice but to kill her.

  He put his arm around her shoulders when she shivered. “Don’t worry. After tonight, I’ll never return here.”

  Puzzled, she pulled away and peered into the mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Why not?”

  “We are done with our life of crime, querida,” he replied. “The men are asho
re in the cave, dividing up what remains of our meager treasure. On the morrow, we sail back to Puerto Rico, scuttle the Juana and go our separate ways. I hope to find a place where I can be Maximiliano Aguero again, and not worry about the price on my head.”

  Take me with you.

  “Where will you go?” she asked.

  “Florida, perhaps,” he replied. “Or further north, maybe all the way to Upper Canada, although I’ve heard the cold can freeze a man’s b...er...bones.”

  She’d known bitterness when the amiable Torsten turned into a person she didn’t recognize, a brute she feared. In different circumstances, she’d have succumbed easily to Maximiliano’s charms. There was an alchemy between them, but she recognized the wistfulness in his voice. He knew as well as she did that he would be hunted like an animal until he was captured and executed.

  She leaned into him, resigned to take what little comfort and warmth she could while she had the chance. What he might do with her was no longer of concern. They were alone aboard a ship and he could have murdered her before this and easily disposed of her body. Maximiliano Aguero was no bloodthirsty pirate and she wondered what had driven him to a life of crime. “I hope you find your haven,” she said.

  A haven, he thought. If things were different, I could find shelter and solace in this woman’s arms.

  He shook his head to rid his brain of such notions. Uncertainty about the future was making him fanciful, although the future had been precarious for a long while. He woke every morning wondering if this was the day of his capture. There’d be no happy ending for him—unless his plans succeeded. “Can you find your way to the cabin?” he asked.

  “Won’t you escort me back?” she protested, forcing him to double his resolve not to take her to his bed. She clearly didn’t want to spend the night alone, but the hesitancy in her voice proved she was no coy siren. She was a respectable woman and he was determined to respect her. For him, the difficult life of a fugitive lay ahead.

  “I’ll keep watch on deck. Goodnight.”

  “Godnat,” she replied, sounding disappointed when he deliberately turned away to look at the moon shimmering on the water. It was a night for lovers, but if he was to return to the life of a gentleman…

  He gripped the railing as her footsteps receded, fighting down the urge to follow. Was he fooling himself to think Maximiliano Aguero, descendant of a centuries-old noble line, could rise from the ashes of the pirate Lázaro?

  He stood watch for hours, listening to the laughter of his crew drifting over the water. The more they drank, the louder the merriment became, until it gradually ceased. He sat at the base of the mast and dozed, content to spend the last few hours with his beloved sloop.

  Heidi returned to the cabin and retrieved the nightgown after rummaging about in her bag. The air outside might be cooler, but the tiny cabin was hot and stuffy. She’d avoided disrobing in front of Torsten since his descent into depravity, but found herself wishing Maximiliano was watching her undress. She chided herself inwardly. Her husband was right—too fat. The pirate would laugh himself silly if he saw her naked. Yet, she stood with her body bared for long minutes, heart beating wildly, listening for his footfall.

  Finally deciding she was losing her mind, she yanked the nightgown over her head and stood on tiptoe to snuff out the candle in the lantern hanging from the beam. She climbed into the bunk and inhaled the pirate’s masculine scent on the pillow.

  She tossed and turned. For a long while, the sounds of men making merry drifted to her ears across the water. She wondered if the captain was up on deck, or if he’d gone to celebrate with his crew.

  Would he come down to his cabin if he was on board?

  Part of her wanted him to come, yet she might faint dead away if he did.

  Where would he sleep since she was in his bunk?

  He’d spoken of scuttling the ship. She couldn’t imagine how such a thing was accomplished, but it was certain to be a dangerous undertaking.

  He might leave her aboard the sinking ship if she became a burden he didn’t know how to be rid of.

  It came to her gradually during the long night that the weather had changed. The Juana rode uneasily at anchor. A howling wind whistled through cracks and crevices, timbers creaked.

  Maximiliano had predicted a storm. She hoped it would pass before morning broke.

  Heavy Weather

  Creaking timbers startled Maximiliano awake. Dawn must be near, but ominous clouds darkened the sky. He struggled to get to his feet in the driving wind, rubbing his eyes to make sure he had actually seen men in the rigging.

  “Time to go, Capitán,” Gatito shouted from the bridge. “Mother Nature is angry.”

  Preoccupied with dreams of the Danish woman, Maximiliano hadn’t been aware of the increasing swell. He braced his legs, holding on to the mast as the ship rose and fell on roiling waves.

  They were in for foul weather and must make haste if they were to reach Puerto Rico.

  Once again, his well-trained crew had things in hand, and soon they were underway, ploughing through rough seas. He prayed the Juana would stay afloat long enough to get his men to a safe harbor and freedom.

  Soaked to the skin by the driving rain, he and Gatito wrestled with the wheel, struggling to keep the ship on course. He worried about the woman below in his cabin, but his place was beside his men.

  It seemed like hours passed before they dropped anchor in the shelter of Bahía Escondida.

  Weighed down by satchels heavy with pieces of eight slung around their bodies, his crew lowered the rowboats with difficulty, bade him farewell and scurried down the ladders to take up the oars.

  All except Gatito. “I will help you send Juana to her watery grave,” his first mate shouted.

  Maximiliano shook his head. “No, faithful friend, go with the others before the weather deteriorates even further.”

  “What will you do with the woman?”

  He had no answer. It seemed Heidi had come into his life at the worst possible moment. And yet...

  Gatito shrugged and shook his hand. “Vaya con Dios, Capitán,” he said with a trace of a smile before disappearing over the side.

  Heidi didn’t know how much time had passed when the ship’s movement rolled her against the bunk’s railing. She wasn’t fast enough to grab the barrier before she was tossed to the opposite wall. An eerie half-light illuminated the cabin.

  The nightgown now seemed like a terrible idea as she struggled to climb out of the bunk without pitching forward. With her feet eventually planted on the wooden flooring, she had to hang on to stay upright. The candle lantern squeaked and wailed, swinging to and fro. Timbers groaned and she could hear the howling wind though she was far from the deck of the ship.

  She’d lived through tropical storms on Sankt Thomas, and knew how destructive they could be, but now she was aboard a ship at the mercy of the wind and waves.

  The vessel was underway. If she sank...

  She clung to the railing for what seemed like hours, chanting prayers she hadn’t uttered since childhood.

  Trembling with fear, she almost fainted with relief when Maximiliano burst in, soaked to the skin.

  “We must get to shore,” Maximiliano shouted, peering into the darkness of the cabin. His gut churned when he made out a figure in white clinging to the bunk rail. He couldn’t see Heidi’s face, but could well imagine her fear.

  “I have to get dressed,” she cried.

  The desperation in her voice propelled him to her side. “No time,” he said, dropping to his knees to unlock the chest. He grabbed the sack of loot and stuffed it inside her portmanteau before snaking an arm around her waist.

  She resisted when he pulled her to the door. “My shoes.”

  He bent the knee to help shove her feet into the shoes, then she clung to him as they made their way to the door.

  The Juana rolled heavily. His innards had clenched every time he’d thought about the prospect of scuttling his beloved sloop.
The storm might prove to be a blessing in disguise and take her to the bottom. It seemed a more fitting demise for the ship that had served him well.

  Navigating the companionway to the deck with Heidi was like being inside a barrel rolling downhill. He had no choice but to abandon her luggage. He narrowed his eyes against the pelting rain when they finally reached the deck.

  “It’s raining sideways,” Heidi shouted.

  His throat tightened when he looked to shore. He could barely make out his men scrambling to move further inland, the rowboats upended on the sand. Palm fronds danced in the wind like demented spirits, the tall trunks bowed alarmingly. The beach wasn’t far away, but it might as well have been a thousand miles. He admitted reluctantly one man couldn’t row the remaining dingy through the angry surf to safety. “We’ll have to ride it out on the ship,” he yelled, racked by guilt at the abject terror on her face. If he’d paid more attention to the signs of a gathering storm, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. Perhaps it was God’s will he go down with his ship, but Heidi...

  Teeth chattering, she turned to go below.

  He drew her against him and wedged their bodies in the doorframe. “On the deck. We could be trapped if she goes down.”

  “Down?” she parroted. “You mean we might sink?”

  The irony struck him full force. He’d planned to scuttle the ship anyway.

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She apparently saw the humor too.

  “If I’d known we were in for a hurricane…”

  Her smile fled. “Hurricane?”

 

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