AB (6 page)

rocky cliffs above the grotto, stirring the pristine pool, while sunlight danced across the

rippled surface, causing the waves to shimmer like jewels.

Sophia shuddered at the enchanting sight. She wanted to immerse herself in the pure

water and wash away the blood and loathsome handprints that still stained her flesh.

Tears streamed from her eyes. She slipped the wide linen strap over her head in an

unsteady manner and dropped the satchel on the ground. She then kicked off her shoes

before she stepped into the warm lagoon and waded through the healing waves.

She inhaled a deep breath and dunked her head under the glimmering surface. She

swam toward the base of the waterfall, the pounding surge pummeling her spine as she

cleared the swirling pool and emerged inside the dark grotto.

She sighed, feeling safe, feeling clean. Crashing water resounded in the cavernous space.

The smooth walls reflected the rippled waves. The splayed light danced across the murky

stone surface…and the dazzling treasure troves.

Sophia scaled the glittering baubles and gold coins. She settled on top of a sturdy sea

chest, raising her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs, rocking softly.

James surfaced moments later. He, too, had not removed his clothes. He was dressed in

a loose white shirt and cropped trousers, sheared at the knees. Drops of water dripped

from his sooty lashes like liquid pearls. He combed his fingers through his wet mane and

eyed the mountain of purloined riches.

“Dawson’s treasure, I presume.”

She shrugged. “It was buried all over the mountainside. Father had trouble

remembering where it was all hidden, so I stored it here in the grotto to keep it together. I

think I found most of it.”

He stroked across the lambent water and rested at her feet. He remained inside the

pool; however, he folded his strapping arms across a shelf of gold coins and set his chin,

dark with stubble, on his forearms, gazing at her with his bewitching blue eyes.

“How do you feel, Sophia?”

“I’m fine.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Pervasive images ran over and over again in her head. She struggled with the black and

twisted thoughts, strangled the wretched cries still trapped in her throat.

James sighed. The man’s breath slashed through the gloom and fear in her heart. She

was not alone. He was there beside her…

“What are you doing here, Black Hawk?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing in the jungle?” she said with a slight lisp, lips swol en from the

attack. “Why aren’t you raiding at sea?”

“I was looking for you.”

She tamped down the unruly feelings that stormed her breast, confusing her senses

even more. “What do you want with me?”

“I need to talk with you about our night together. I need to…”

“What is it?”

He fingered a gold coin in a lazy manner, skimming his thumb along the circumference.

“We can talk about it some other time.”

“We can talk about it now.”

She needed the distraction. The sound of his deep voice was like salving ointment

across her burned and blistered flesh.

He looked at her sharply. “You might be enceinte.”

She snorted. “I’m not.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’m barren.”

She had never conceived a babe in the past. She wasn’t distressed by the truth, that she

would never be a mother. She wasn’t keen on the idea of parenthood. But she sensed the

matter was important to men seeking heirs…even pirates.

“Does it bother you?” she said quietly. “That I’m barren?”

He gazed at her thoughtfully. “No.”

“Truly?”

He was somber, features dark. “I don’t want children.”

She brushed a long, wet lock behind her ear. “So what would you do if I wasn’t barren?

If I had a babe?”

“I would do the right thing and take care of you and the child.”

“Why?”

He was a pirate. He wasn’t the sort to give a fig about where he rutted or with whom.

Her own father had sired a hundred bastards like her, according to rumor.

“Because you’re Dawson’s daughter,” he said firmly.

“And that makes me different from all the other whores?”

He looked at her crossly. “You’re not a whore, Sophia.”

She snorted again, the redcoats’ slurs still ringing in her ears, disabusing her of the

thought that what he said was true.

He grasped her wrist. “Do you think that because of what happened?”

As soon as he had touched her, her heartbeat pattered, and she gasped for breath.

He quickly let go of her wrist.

He had not harmed her. He had not crushed her in his mighty hold, but he had

touched her, and that was enough to send her senses into a fresh panic.

He seemed perturbed. “Let me take you home.”

“No.” She gathered her uneven breath. “Not yet.”

She wasn’t ready to go home. She wasn’t ready to confront her father and carry the

man’s yoke of madness. She was still too distraught, too much in pain.

“Do you play?”

The brigand’s low and gentle voice disturbed her fretful thoughts. She blessedly

dismissed the turmoil in her breast and concentrated on the finely crafted wood box with

gold clasp.

“No,” she said.

He opened the box and removed the jade and ivory players. “I can teach you.”

She observed his strong fingers as he arranged the lovely pieces across the checkered

playing surface. There was something about his temperate hand movements that quieted

the mayhem in her spirit. “Where did you learn to play the game?”

He shrugged. “My father taught me.”

“I didn’t know pirates played chess.”

“He wasn’t always a pirate. He was once a carpenter…before the navy took him.”

Sophia had heard the tale. Almost three decades ago, Drake Hawkins had served the

Royal Navy, pressed into service against his will. For ten years, he had sailed the world

under the dictates of a brutal commander…until the day her father had come along and

attacked the naval vessel. He had offered the weary sailors an opportunity to join his

pirate crew, and Drake had accepted the post, serving with her father for another two

years.

“Your father’s a skilled carpenter.” Slowly she swayed in a comforting manner. “I know

my father liked having him aboard the Jezebel, especially after raids. He was quick with

the repairs. Father was sad to see him go.”

But friendship had encouraged her father to release Drake from his pirate duty. After

almost twelve years at sea, Drake Hawkins had reunited with his family in England. He

had returned home with his fair share of the booty, and it was then he had captained his

own pirate vessel, the Bonny Meg.

James pushed a jade player across the board. “Well, would you like me to teach you the

rules?”

“I don’t like rules…and why would I want to learn?”

“For the challenge.”

“And if I win the challenge?”

“I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” She glowered at him. “I’m not a fool. I can read and write,

you know?”

“I know,” he said evenly. “I saw the books. Do they all belong to you?”

She nodded. “I like botany. I don’t have the time or the space to garden, though.”

He fingered a jade rook. “About the game…”

She sighed. “I just don’t want to spend my time memorizing rules if I don’t get

something out of the game.”

“Fair enough. If you win, you can ask anything of me you wish.”

She eyed the brigand with suspicion. The proposal sounded attractive. She mulled over

all the things she might want from him: a month’s worth of chopped wood, or perhaps a

tour of the Bonny Meg. But would he really give her whatever she asked for? Would he

honor his word? She sensed that he would.

“And if you win?” she said askance.

“Then I can ask anything of you I wish.”

She humphed.

“Is that a ‘yes,’ Sophia?”

“Aye.”

He smiled. It was a quirk of the lips, really. The true pleasure was in his eyes. He had

lured her into a match, distracting her from her otherwise woeful thoughts. She sensed it

was important for him to carry her away from her troubles, that he could not leave her to

weep quietly in the cave. The man was unnerved by her tears.

Sophia listened attentively as he related the rules and demonstrated the movements

across the board. After the lesson, he returned the pieces to their proper starting

positions.

“Ladies first.”

She eyed the lacquered board carefully before she slowly moved an ivory pawn with her

left hand.

“I’ve noticed you’re left-handed,” he said in an offhand manner.

“It’s wicked, I know.”

“I don’t mind wicked.”

She scoffed.

He nudged a jade player. “How did you learn to read and write?”

“There was a Presbyterian priest at the whorehouse where I grew up. He schooled me

in letters.”

“The whorehouse employed a missionary?”

“He wasn’t there to save souls.” She moved another player. “He was one of my

mother’s patrons.”

“Oh.”

She shrugged. “He was young and alone in a strange world. He needed companionship.

But I think he felt guilty about what he did with Mother. Instructing me in English was a

form of penance.”

James nabbed an ivory pawn.

She frowned.

“I see you don’t like losing, Sophia.”

“I’m not losing,” she said firmly.

“I don’t like losing, either.”

She glared at him.

“It’s your turn, sweetheart.”

After an hour-long match, Sophia gnashed her teeth as the brigand declared:

“Checkmate.”

“That wasn’t fair.” She wrapped her arms around her legs. “You talked during the

whole match. I couldn’t concentrate.”

“Then you should have told me to be quiet.”

She curled her toes. “Well? What do you want from me?”

She waited with bated breath to hear the man’s request, her heart knocking against her

breastbone in frantic beats.

He returned the players inside the elegant box and secured the closure. “I want you to

let me escort you home.”

She sighed. “Is that all?”

He glanced at her sidelong. “That’s all.”

She had expected something more unreasonable from the man. She wasn’t sure why,

though.

The cascading falls obscured the terrain. However, it was still easy to gauge the time of

day. It was growing dark outside. The sun set early in Jamaica, soon after six o’clock, even

in the summer months. The shadows were already creeping inside the grotto.

“Fine,” she said in acquiescence. “You can take me home.”

She grabbed a few coins from the treasure heap, for she would have to fetch the

household supplies the following day. She then eased off the bejeweled peak, her limbs

stil sore, and plunged into the warm pool.

Sophia surfaced in the lagoon again, the burly brigand at her side. She mounted the

shore. A cool mountain breeze whisked through the trees, stirring the leaves, chilling the

air.

She shivered…then stiffened as a set of hard, wet arms circled her shoulders, heating

the blood in her veins. She sensed her heart hammering behind her breastbone as he

molded his chest along the curve of her spine.

He hugged her in a soft embrace, yet she gasped for breath. The man’s heart thumped

against her shoulder blade, like knuckles rapping at a secured door. She parted the veil

that concealed her being, allowing James to slip inside the dark hideaway, and for an

intimate moment, the two of them were the only ones in the world.

Sophia folded her fingers around his wrist, nestled beside her cheek. The man’s pulse

tapped against her fingertips in steady beats, the life teeming inside him so stimulating.

He complied with her silent request to be released. He opened his arms, and she

stepped away from him, awash with the biting sensation of aloneness. She retrieved her

footwear in a daze and secured the blunt inside the satchel, still resting in the tall grass

where she had dropped it. She and James then set off for her father’s home.

The couple trekked in comfortable silence for a while. Then:

“Why do you stay with Dawson?”

Sophia swatted at the ferns. “He needs me.”

“You stay with him out of charity?”

“No.” She shrugged. “If he hadn’t taken me in when I was thirteen, I would be like my

mother.”

“So you stay with him out of loyalty?”

“That’s right.”

James was quiet for a moment. “I understand.”

She glanced at the man’s wide, dark figure. “You don’t think I’m daft for staying with

the brigand? For taking care of him?”

“He’s your family.”

“But he’s mad.”

James snorted. “You haven’t met my brothers.”

Her voice softened. “I’d like to meet your brothers one day.”

Sophia had no other family. She was curious to know how James interacted with his

kin, she was curious to know the other brothers.

He sighed. “I don’t think I can vouch for their gentlemanly behavior.”

“Well, I’ve never met a gentleman, so there’s no harm.”

“Hmm…I suppose I can set up a meet.”

“Bring them to supper one night,” she suggested. “I’ll prepare an island delicacy.”

Quiet settled between them again.

Sophia didn’t mind the stil ness. However, she sensed the pirate captain’s sharp stare on