Pure Temptation

by Auria Jourdain

  “Fine, Fitz. Take us to the captain. Now.”

  “If you would, s’il vous plait,” Talia added sweetly. “You’ve been more than helpful, Monsieur.”

  As she linked her arm with the first mate’s, she winked at Talon. Arching his eyebrow, he shook his head and smirked. She sighed contentedly. At least they were back to friendly banter.

  Better than his brooding silence.

  “WHAT IN BLAZES IS TAKING so long? We’ve been here an hour.”

  Talon paced the floor of the officer’s quarters, his patience wearing thin as they awaited the captain of the Winged Runner. The sooner the man got there, the better. He was more than ready to leave.

  It hadn’t helped that Talia flirted with every man they encountered. When the galley boy had served them afternoon tea, she’d given him a suggestive wink. It took every effort for Talon to hold his tongue lest he give his new employer a proper lashing. Unfortunately, she’d enjoy it too much.

  With an enigmatic smile, Talia raised her teacup to her lips. “Be patient, Monsieur. The crew is preparing to set sail. Have a biscuit.”

  Halting his steps, he glared at her. “I don’t want food, woman. I need answers.”

  As if on cue, the door creaked open and a portly gentleman entered. “Bon, you’ve summoned me. Now, what—” The pipe pursed at his lips fell from his mouth as his eyes widened. “Talia? Dieu, what are you doing here?”

  “Jean-Jacques!” Bursting up, Talia threw her arms around the man’s neck and squealed in delight.

  Talon scowled. “Jesus, do you know everyone on the blessed island? Who the hell is this?”

  She smiled. “Pardon, Monsieur. Talon, this is Captain Jean-Jacques Rousseau.”

  Chuckling, the captain tipped his hat in greeting. “You have nothing to fear, Monsieur Barberry. Talia and I go way back.”

  Grasping the man’s hands, she released a breath. “I’m glad we’re sailing with you, mon ami. It’s too good to be true. We have had quite a time the last six weeks.” And yet again, she recalled the fairy tale of their trip across the Atlantic. She’d reiterated it so many times, Talon was beginning to believe it himself.

  He squinted at the old salt. The man was well-kept, his white shirt and blue tailored overcoat clean and pressed. His graying beard was neatly trimmed, and his blue eyes twinkled. Most importantly, he was clearly pleased to see Talia. Every muscle in Talon’s body unclenched as an exuberant smile lit up her face.

  When her story ended, the man shook his head. “You’ve had a difficult journey, oui? Fernando will be happy to know I am at your service. You were only eight when you first set foot on my ship if memory serves.” A small dimple appeared at his furry cheek as he smiled.

  Talia’s tinkling laugh echoed off the bulkhead. “Oui. And you were determined to throw this spoiled brat overboard before we made port. I must have climbed every rat line on the Rose Claire.” She furrowed her brows. “Jean-Jacques, why are you sailing for Monseiur Taylor? What happened to your ship?”

  The man sat on the bed with downcast eyes. “She’s being fixed. We ran aground at New Orleans during our last trip, and Monsieur Taylor is kindly seeing us through. My wages from this trip are paying for my girl’s repairs.” He squeezed Talia’s hands. “No worries, ma cherie. We’ll get you home.”

  Compassion poured from the man’s gaze as he kissed the tops of Talia’s hands. Relief flooded Talon’s heart. This man had no ulterior motives. Perhaps Taylor had their best interests after all.

  Clearing his throat, Talon stepped forward. “Captain...?”

  “Rousseau,” the man supplied, shaking Talon’s outstretched hand.

  “Thank you for allowing us passage on your vessel. I’m afraid I was a bit testy with your crew.” Talon arched his eyebrow. “But as you heard, Miss Montrose and I have had one hell of an excursion thus far. We’re expecting this leg of our journey to be rather mundane.”

  The man laughed at Talon’s half-hearted threat. “Not to worry, Monsieur. We’re just a merchant ship. There will be no troubles.” Pulling on a large bell behind his desk, Rousseau patted Talia’s shoulder. “You’ll be comfortable in my wife’s sleeping cabin, oui?”

  Talia clapped like a delighted child. “Bien sûr! Did you bring Patrice?”

  Rousseau’s eyes sparkled merrily. “Non. She stayed behind to help our daughter. We have a new grandson.”

  “How wonderful. Janine or Noëlle?”

  “Noëlle. She married a year ago.”

  As Fitz arrived at the door and gathered Talia’s trunk, Rousseau nodded at the man. “Be sure the mademoiselle is settled in my wife’s quarters.” Eyeing Talon, he arched his eyebrow. “I apologize, Monsieur Barberry, but there is only one guest room on this ship.”

  Grabbing his satchel, Talon tipped his hat. “Not at all, my good man. I’m used to bunking with the crew.” Without another word, he gave Talia a lopsided grin and followed the first mate.

  Most of the sailors were still loading cargo, so Talon grabbed a spare hammock and settled in for a nap. He laid there restlessly, recalling the mishaps he and Talia had endured thus far. It hadn’t been an easy trip, although Taylor had been a godsend. Mayhap their misfortune was finally at an end.

  Covering his eyes with his hat, he sighed. “I bloody-well hope so.”

  Chapter 18

  A SOFT GLOW HOVERED over the water, the pale moon’s beauty rivaled only by the woman taking a midnight stroll. Talon stood on the top deck, watching Talia with an eagle eye, not at all concerned that he looked like a lurker. After all, it was his job.

  When she stopped at the rail and stared across the dark sea, his heart exploded from want. It had been two days since they’d left Martinique. Desperate to limit his contact with her, he’d kept a silent vigil, guarding her night after night from afar. Unfortunately, her beautiful face haunted his dreams.

  Upon his watch, the first mate turned the corner and chuckled. “You’re commandeering your usual post I see, Mr. Barberry.”

  Despite Talon’s mockery at their first meeting, he and Fitz had become fast friends. Chatting with the Irishman made him feel closer to home. The man had lived in London, working the docks as an indentured servant before he was sent to the colonies. Like Talon, he was berated for not being a blue blood.

  Tipping his hat, Talon smiled like a love-sick fool. “Indeed. I plan on reconnoitering here for a while.”

  Scratching his red hair, the man gazed at Talia and nodded. “Nice evening for a stroll. If you’d like, I’ll clear off for a bit. I’m sure you can secure this deck.”

  Talon pressed his lips together. He’d asked Fitz to help him keep a close eye on Talia during their trip. Their luck hadn’t been the best, and DuPont was still out there somewhere. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

  Talon watched the first mate disappear below decks. Scanning the stern, he strolled up behind Talia, unable to keep his distance any longer. “Do you plan on staying here all night, Mademoiselle? It isn’t safe,” he whispered.

  Placing a hand to her ear, Talia gasped. “Dieu, Talon Barberry. What in the world are you doing?”

  “Keeping watch. I’m your guard, remember?” He leaned against the rail leisurely. “And you?”

  Returning her gaze to the sea, Talia smiled. “The stars are beautiful this evening. As a child, I often traveled with Papa to the islands. He would bring me out on deck and try to teach me the constellations.” She laughed musically. “I was a horrible student, but they are quite mesmerizing.”

  A soft breeze blew the curls at Talia’s temples, giving her a soft, vulnerable appearance. Talon’s heart swelled. As he swept one of the silky coils from her verdant eyes, she gazed at him lovingly.

  Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “You’ve been at sea more than I. Besides an occasional trip across the channel, I haven’t had much experience. I prefer to keep my feet firmly planted on land.”

  “Papa always said there’s something soothing about the lull of the
ship. I feel at peace here.”

  Talon chuckled. “I have to disagree with you, Miss. What of your father? Is he still in New Orleans?”

  “Oui. Dear Papa. I fear my exploits have been a trial to him.” Turning around, she sighed. “Jacques was right. I was a wayward girl. Have you ever felt like a disappointment to your family?”

  Talon stuffed his hands in his pockets and grimaced. His failures were always at the forefront of his mind. “I’m sure all children do at one time or another.”

  “Not like me.” Clasping her hands around her fan, Talia returned her gaze to the sea. “Papa doesn’t know I work for the Cabildo.”

  Talon frowned. “I thought your father and Aringosa were mates?”

  “Oui. They are. But Ricardo has a dark side. The man works with criminals and trades favors to people in power. Not unlike most politicians I suppose. Papa has no idea. He’s blissfully unaware of Ricardo’s doings.”

  “Come, now. Your father can’t be that naïve.”

  “I assure you, he’s quite blind when it comes to his friends and family—except for Alex.” Her mouth bowed into a smile. “Papa doesn’t trust him one bit.”

  Talon clenched his jaw. Spots flashed before his eyes as heat spread across his skin like a rogue plague. Gripping the rail, he swallowed. “Who the devil?”

  “Alex Lafitte. We’ve been friends for years. I introduced him to Ricardo during one of my missions, and now he works the island angle. Papa loathes him.” A soft laugh left her lips. “He’s as charming as you are, Monsieur, and nearly as handsome.”

  Damn the woman! The mere thought of some other man touching her had his mind whirling like a hurricane. After all they’d shared, would she dare cuckold him?

  She isn’t yours, mate.

  Swallowing his jealousy, Talon bit out, “Why doesn’t your father approve?”

  Talia tapped her fan against her chin with a faraway look. “Alex is untamed. His cousins Jean and Pierre are barbarians, and they’ve gained a bad reputation in New Orleans. Alex captains one of the Lafitte ships. I guess he’s what you’d call a buccaneer.”

  Talon’s nostrils flared as he crossed his arms. “A pirate, you mean. Did you and this Lafitte have a sordid relationship that angered your father?”

  Dear God, I sound like a jealous fool.

  Twirling a ringlet around her finger, Talia gave him an enigmatic smile. “Hardly. Alex may be charming, but he’s too young and arrogant for my tastes.”

  Talon puffed out his chest, his heart on high alert. “Is that so?”

  Linking her arm in his, Talia giggled. “Oui. Alex is merely a friend. I have no desire to have a relationship with him.” She tilted her head. “What of you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

  He blinked rapidly. Pulling out of her grasp, he returned his gaze to the sea and scratched the stubble at his cheeks. He hadn’t thought about Lina for months. For the first time in his life, her betrayal hadn’t sparked the anger within that it usually did.

  Talia retreated. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Tears sparkled in her jade eyes, her dejection reverberating through him like the waves against the sides of the ship. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. “Nay, I have nobody in England.”

  “Was there?”

  Closing his eyes, Talon sighed. “I was arranged to be married a long time ago. In Romani tradition, most parents find mates for their children through other clans. Lina and I were friends during our youth, and our parents thought we made a good match. But it never happened.”

  “Did she die?”

  Talon smirked. “That would have been infinitely easier. Nay, she ran away with a gadjo—a white man.”

  Talia’s fingers whispered along his shoulder. “Mon dieu, that’s terrible. Do you still see her?”

  Her touch soothed his aching skin, and he groaned. Dear lord, she had no clue what she did to him. Taking a step away from her, he muttered, “Not for ages. She was outcast from her clan. I have no idea where she is. Apparently, she and her husband left Britain.” Talia wrinkled her brow, her angelic face drawn up in concern. Talon swept his thumb across her cheek and whispered, “It was a long time ago love.”

  Her mouth parted, her enticingly full lips calling him closer. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. She closed her eyes with a sweet sigh. Losing himself in the taste of her, he ran his fingers through her hair.

  When he trailed kisses down her neck, she giggled, brushing his scraggly whiskers with her hand. Talon pulled back, feigning a look of hurt. “You’ve crushed my masculinity, Mademoiselle.”

  “Your beard is itchy.” Her arms encircled his neck, her fingers dallying with the back of his shorn hair. “You clean up nicely, Monsieur Barberry. And you’re infinitely more appealing than an arrogant pirate.”

  She whimpered as he crushed his mouth to hers. He cupped the sides of her full breasts and groaned, “I need to taste all of you, love...”

  “I thought you were guarding the deck, Monsieur.”

  A flash of light illuminated the night. “What the hell, man?” Talon whipped around, and Talia hid behind him.

  With a flick of his wrist, Captain Rousseau extinguished his match and approached them with an arched brow. “I’m not interrupting anything, I hope?”

  Heat penetrated Talon’s cheeks. Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. “Not at all.”

  Talia pushed away from him. Stuffing her fists on her hips, she poked a finger in the captain’s face. “You cheeky Frenchman. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “Aboard my own ship? Where do you suggest I go?” Rousseau’s eyes sparkled with feigned innocence as Talia crossed her arms over her chest with a menacing growl.

  Ducking his head, Talon pulled his hat low. “I’ll let you two sort this out. I’m heading to the bunks.” He’d seen that look before... Talia was ready to blow. No way did he want to be in on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. “Until the morrow, Miss?”

  She gave him a tentative smile as he stalked toward the staircase, his cock still bulging against his waistband. Hell and damnation, the woman would be the death of him.

  AS TALON DISAPPEARED below decks, Talia turned on the only man left to bear her wrath. “Jean-Jacques, for shame. Are you spying on me?”

  Barking a laugh, Rousseau shook his head. “Hardly. You’ve been a flirt since she you were a young girl, ma chèrie. Seems you’re still living up to your reputation.”

  She straightened her shoulders as fear crawled along her spine. Would he mention this to Papa? “And you know me so well?”

  “I’m just looking out for your virtue... if it’s still there to protect.” He puffed on his pipe merrily.

  Holding her head high, Talia huffed, “I’m not a child anymore, Captain. It’s time people realized that.”

  Pulling the pipe from his mouth, Jean-Jacques frowned. As she shuffled her feet under the heat of his intense stare, his eyebrows arched. “Mon dieu, you love that man.”

  “What?” She barked a dry laugh. “C’est impossible.”

  “C’est vrai. It’s written all over your face. You’re in love with Monsieur Barberry. What will your father say?”

  She clenched her fists, spitting anger from between her teeth. “I don’t care what Papa says. He knows not what I’ve gone through. It was his idea to send me with Ricardo and Carina, and that was as disastrous as a hurricane. All these months, Talon is the only person who has stood by my side.” Brushing the tears from her eyes, she turned her back on him and gazed out to sea. “Soon, I’ll have to let him go.”

  Rousseau went to her and patted her back gently. “Ma petite, things happen for a reason.”

  Falling into his outstretched arms, she sobbed upon his thick shoulder. Much as she didn’t want to admit it, the man was right. After everything they’d been through, she’d fallen in love with Talon Barberry. “He doesn’t want me.”

  Rosseau laughed low in his
throat. “Talia, that man is more than interested in you.”

  Soughing, she blew her nose on his shirt. “He doesn’t show it.”

  “Because he’s a man.”

  She grunted. “I’ll wager Patrice doesn’t have to guess about your true feelings.”

  “Oui, but it wasn’t always so easy, especially in the beginning. Patrice was a saint for putting up with my antics on the sea—returning home with little money and having a woman in every port. I love her more than life because she’s more understanding than most.”

  Talia frowned. “If you’re gone most of the year, why did you marry?”

  Raising his eyebrows, he winked at her knowingly. “Patty and I are compatible in more ways than one.”

  Talia hugged the old man with a laugh. “You crusty sailor. Your charm won her heart for sure.”

  “Don’t fret about Barberry, ma petite. He’s conflicted, but in the end, it will work out for the best. You’ve already won his heart. He just has to realize it.”

  Returning her attention to the horizon, Talia exhaled. “It won’t matter. He wants to return to England and his family. Although apparently he doesn’t have anybody to return to...”

  Rousseau stroked his beard, cocking his left eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  Her brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

  He chuckled. “The man could have taken a ship back to England at St. Pierre, yet here he is, hopping around the islands with you.” Draping an arm over her shoulder, he embraced her. “You’ve changed. The girl I knew wouldn’t give up on anything.”

  Talia’s lips curved into a slight smile. Dieu, the man was right. Why was she crying? This wasn’t like her at all.

  Holding her head high, she wiped her tears. “Merci, Jean-Jacques. Fate brought Talon and I together, and I won’t let him walk out of my life without a fight. I’ll just have to convince him that we are wonderful together.”

  Rousseau gave her a hug. “Oui, ça c’est bon. That sounds like the Talia Montrose I know.”