Forbidden (10 page)

A shot of lust tightening his groin, he
looked away, the question of withdrawal forgotten. Their last stop
of the day was to an older woman and her three daughters. They’d
set up a booth where woman could come and sit to have their hair
done up in the intricate tribal and warrior braids that were so
common in their own land. When Ava pleaded with him to let them go
he allowed her, thinking nothing of it. Five minutes later he
straightened from examining a faded painting in the booth across
the way only to have his heart stop.

He’d compared her to an Amazon before,
but with her hair in the complicated up, do, ribbons weaved
throughout it to add splashes of sudden color in her golden hair,
she was radiant.

The braid suited her much better than
the strict coil she usually put it in and Damon felt his mouth
water as she flicked and errant curl from her eyes and blushed
under his scrutiny.

Then, clearing his throat, he turned
away.

God help him, but he was glad they
would be leaving him today because he wasn’t sure he could stand
the temptation of her much longer.

* * * *

Their goodbye lasts a bit longer than
the one she’d held with her friends aboard the Gentle Marie. After
their new things had been taken aboard the Gorgon, Jocelyn had
turned to look at him. The sun was high in the sky and she had to
squint her eyes against its glare, and the wind whipped at the
scarf and ribbons trailing down her back.

“Well.” He said, trying to feel relief
and only relief now that he could go back home and take care of his
home.

“Well.” She said right back and
wrinkled her nose as if at a loss.

He found a smile for her and hoped it
wasn’t tight. “It’s been fun Princess. You and your sister take
care of yourselves.” He hesitated. “And write me if you need
anything.”

She nodded, her bottom lip bloodless
under the ministrations of her teeth. Ava came up beside her and
after looking at her sister she turned on Damon and placed her
hands on her hips.

“Just what do you think you’re doing to
my sister now Mr. Burleigh? We’re leaving now so there’s no need
for you to torment her anymore.”

Her round little face was flushed and
before Jocelyn could explain, Damon had scooped Ava up, and to the
surprise of both sisters, but mostly Ava, he hugged her.

Her feet left the ground as he wrapped
both of those long, muscular arms around her tiny frame. Engulfing
her completely so that she hung from his grip like a doll. He
bounced her first right and then left in a dizzying hug while Ava’s
legs kicked out helplessly as her skirts bounced in tandem. Adding
insult to injury, Damon rubbed his bristled cheek against her face,
her carefully tended face, until she let loose a screech that had
him cackling. It was the first time Jocelyn had seen him torment
anyone and he did it well. He must have been a terror with his
brothers and sister. Her own sister was rumpled and angry by the
time he set her back on her feet. She looked up, up, up at him and
opened her mouth, most likely to curse him to the seven hells, and
Damon’s hand shot out.

She flinched, almost screamed before
she realized he wasn’t going to strike her, but was rather too busy
messing up the braids that had been put in her hair as he ruffled
her head. She did scream then and stumbled back away from him as if
he were a madman.

Damon laughed. That open, happy sound
that Jocelyn had begun hearing more and more of since they’d met. A
corner of his mouth hiked up and he raised those eyebrows as
mischief danced in his eyes.

“I’ll miss you, demon brat”

“What!” Flustered Ava nearly launched
herself at him before she looked around at the people staring at
her. Then she straightened and angled her chin.

“What sort of endearment is that?” And
though few would have seen it under the haughty mask she’d hidden
behind, Jocelyn recognized the pleasure behind her gaze.

“Jocelyn. Let’s get on board before
this ape attacks you too.”

Without waiting for a reply Ava turned
and stalked off.

Jocelyn looked at Damon from the corner
of her eye and held out a hand.

He cocked his head to one side, and his
voice grew solemn.

“Does this ape need to attack you in
order to get a proper goodbye?”

Because she knew he wouldn’t be in such
a charming mood the next time she saw him, Jocelyn took advantage
of the opening and moved in to give him a swift kiss on the cheek.
Then she turned and was gone.

* * * *

He was grateful.

He was relieved damnit.

Or at least that’s what he told
himself.

The only thing was, he had to make
himself believe it and that’s exactly what he tried to do as he
made his way back through the port towards the Gentle Marie to
prepare for his own passage back home.

Chapter Four

While Jocelyn doesn’t suffer from
seasickness, I am afraid that she’ll be reluctant to get on a ship
for an entirely different reason. She won’t want to leave this
place and that’ll be the primary thought in her mind. However the
primary thought in mine is this. She can’t swim. I tossed her in
once and she was stubborn, as she is about everything, but no
matter how she fought she just couldn’t seem to get her head above
water….

“So what does this mean? You’re not
coming with me? Saints preserve us, Jocelyn! I thought you’d given
up on that scheme already. We’re an ocean away from home now, not
just a couple of miles. What will you do? Swim back! Or maybe
you’ll stay in Barbados and lick your nipples for the
sailors.”

“AVA!”

Her sister glared at her and fell back
onto their narrow bed, her arms crossed tightly under her
breasts.

“What?”

“Don’t…” she shook her head in dismay
but couldn’t keep the admonishment from coming out of her mouth.
“Don’t say nipple. It isn’t ladylike.”

The words seemed to work some sort of
magic because Ava’s anger slipped from her and she giggled, Jocelyn
biting her lip hard before she joined in.

They sobered.

“I’m serious, Joss. This is a bad idea.
The worst you’ve ever come up with.”

“Even worse than gluing you to the seat
of the horse when we were ten so you’d stay on?”

Ava thought about that and of the
pretty floral dress she’d ruined as a result.

“No.” She finally said. “Not as bad as
that, but close. Very close.”

She was more upset than Jocelyn had
thought.

Moving forward, she sat on the bed
beside her sister and listened to the waves lap against the hull of
the ship. Finally, licking her lips because she was so nervous, she
turned her head to face Ava only to find the other girl already
staring at her.

Tears swam in the blue depths of her
eyes and her lip trembled. This wasn’t one of the ploys she used on
her admirers either because her nose was running and when Ava was
manipulating someone she tried to look as pretty as possible.
Sighing, Jocelyn bent forward to rummage through the bag at her
feet on the floor and pulled out a handkerchief. She gripped her
sister’s chin, and though she was too old for such ministrations
now, Ava allowed her to wipe her nose and the wet streaks her tears
had left on her face. When she was done she kept hold of Ava and
stared at her hard.

“I can’t go to England Ava. I won’t be
happy there. You know that don’t you?”

Ava scowled but she sniffed and nodded
before tugging her face free.

Jocelyn angled her head to peak under
the fall of hair Ava’s bowed head hid behind.

“Will you help me?”

With another sniff and a forlorn sort
of sigh, Ava straightened her shoulders and looked up. When she’d
stared at the barren wall of the room for a long time without
speaking she shuddered. Apparently back at full working power, she
turned to Jocelyn and threw her brightest smile.

“Of course.”

* * * *

The Gorgon was set to sail in thirty
minutes. The argument between Ava and Jocelyn had lasted ten. Ava
got her off the ship in five.

It was scary how swiftly she pulled it
together too. A whispered word in one sailor’s ear, a wink at
another and a pout to yet a third and before Jocelyn knew it a
large man named James was shooing her down the gangplank before
they pulled it in and set off. How they’d gotten her food, water,
and even some much needed things from her luggage in the cargo hold
she would never know. Nevertheless she was grateful and she blew
all who helped her, especially Ava, equal shares of kisses. Then
she waved and waved until her arms grew tired and she could no
longer see the ship disappearing into the distance for the tears
that blinded her. In her dark gown she should have looked
conspicuous but with so many of the eccentric and strange milling
around her and pulling her in she barely made a ripple. She was
practically invisible but for uncomfortable moments when a man
would catch her eye and interest would suffuse his face.

She made it back on the Gentle Marie
faster than she’d left it. She stood there for a moment, staring as
men hefted and pulled their new cargo onto the ship. In the
confusion of the move she slipped onto the boat and made her way
down the stairs of the galley and into the hidden room she’d found
not long after they’d boarded in Florida. It seemed to be a long
forgotten storage room, and though it was dusty and cramped, the
things the sailors had put into it over the years made it warm. She
had no intention of staying there long as the purpose of the hidey
hole was simply to keep her out of sight until they’d been at sea a
few days. After which it didn’t matter whether Damon caught her or
not because they’d be too far from Barbados to go back. She knew
the Captain wouldn’t deviate from his schedule at all costs. If he
didn’t deliver when and where he was supposed to he would lose
business and Damon would have to concede, no matter how much he’d
like otherwise.

Jocelyn knew how desperately Damon
wanted to get back to his crops, but she also knew that once they
were back in the states, even if he wanted to simply send her right
back off again she would be traveling to England alone since Ava
would be long on her way. He would feel honor bound to escort her
back to Virginia and in the time all this would take Jocelyn was
confident that she could convince him to leave her there.
Especially once he saw how determined she was.

Her plan was perfect.

Or at least … it should have
been.

* * * *

Between June and October, hurricanes
made the Caribbean their stomping ground. With a flick of its
lightning threaded hair and a twitch of its hips, the storms had a
dangerous habit of wiping out entire cities in the blink of an eye.
It had been happening for so long that the natives were no longer
surprised and took appropriate precautions during the storm season.
Families boarded up their homes, parents taught their children how
to swim and sailors … if they were smart, stayed in port. But the
lure of the sea and the seductive power of beating the will of a
force of nature is a heady thing.

So the land lovers hid away and the
sailors … the sailors went out to sea.

During one of their many talks, the
Captain had told Jocelyn, his burr thickening as he spoke to erase
the cultured tones he’d obviously cultivated, “The sky will get
real quiet, real clear. This great wet bitch will calm and the air
will thicken. At first glance it’s a pretty day, a good day. But
the wind don’t move. The sea don’t move. It’s like the world is
holdin its breath. An then…then the air heats up and the sea she
starts a’rockin’. But she aint gentle no more, she aint nice. In
the distance you can see the clouds formin, rumbling, growlin’
something fierce as they eat up the sky. A hurricane will eat the
sun and leave only lightning and thunder to remind a man he’s
trapped himself in hell. In the storms there’s no time for
hesitation girl, the waves won’t play games wit ye. They’ll take
you down and if you don’t learn to spot ‘er before she gets to ye
and get out then, you never will.”

The two had stared at each other for a
moment and as Jocelyn’s face heated and some of the crew close
enough to hear began to snicker, the Captain had stuttered out an
apology for his language. She hadn’t really blamed him. As a
seafaring man he was used to crass words and stark descriptions.
She doubted that he very rarely had to entertain the genteel,
though he held himself with the pride worthy of a man of his
station.

So she’d forgiven him, and thought his
words just a grand story with no relevance to her.

And if she hadn’t boarded the Gentle
Marie once more, it would have stayed that way. But then the
hurricane started up its dark rumble for destruction and blood and
the waves rocked and the air thickened. She, as the sailors
christened her, believing that anything so wild and volatile could
only be female, hit Marie with all the force of a battering ram.
And riding on her heels, practically swinging from her jaws came
the English.