Fortune Trilogy 1 - Fortune's Mistress (22 page)

“I miss your arms around me,” she murmured.

“If that’s all you want, I can give you that,” he said, taking hold of her shirt and ripping it from collar to hem. He pulled her hard against him and kissed her again. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he pulled her head back to trail frenzied love bites along her throat and down her bare breasts.

Her knees went weak, and she moaned deep in her throat. What did it matter what he thought of her, as long as they were pressed tightly against each other? As long as he was doing such tantalizing things to her body?

“Damn you, Lacy,” he rasped, pushing the torn shirt off her shoulders. His mouth was hot and wet against her skin, and she shuddered with pleasure as she felt the nip of his teeth.

Heat from his swelling shaft scorched her belly and filled her loins with an aching desire. It had been so long since he’d kissed her like this ... since she’d caressed the hard muscles of his bare chest and shoulders and felt her heart beat next to his. She whispered his name over and over, using it as a shield to push back all the doubts and fears that clouded her mind.

His callused hands moved over her, turning her blood to liquid fire ... He filled her mouth with his hot, demanding tongue. She leaned against him, suddenly too weak to stand alone as the flames raced from her knees to the roots of her hair.

“Is this what you want, Lacy?” he taunted. She heard the bitterness in his voice, but she also heard the pain.

“Yes ... yes ...” she cried. Nothing else mattered but the inferno that raged in her body ... the searing need.

She was burning up with the wanting ...

The first drops of rain fell on her face as James dropped to his knees and pulled her down with him. In seconds he’d stripped away her man’s breeches and lay panting against her, hip to hip and belly to belly.

“I’ll give you something to remember when you’re bedded with Matthew,” he said.

“I haven’t,” she protested.

“Don’t bother to tell me your lies.” He rolled her onto her back and lifted her hips to meet his turgid member.

He entered her slowly and sweetly, torturing her, making her plead and thrust wildly against him. He teased her until she tossed her head from side to side and whimpered for release. And then he drove deeply inside her, filling her with his passion, riding her until she cried out with overwhelming joy.

They lay together, covered in a sheen of sweat, as the rain came harder, beating on their bare skin. Soon, he drew her close again, kissing and suckling at her breasts, and cupping her damp red curls with a warm, seeking hand.

Soon, his sex was swollen again, and despite the downpour, they were both hot and eager for each other. This time, James lay on his back and let her ride the lusty horse to jump after jump while he grazed among delicious pastures.

Later, when the rain had stopped, they walked hand in hand to the foot of a waterfall and stood together under the stinging spray.

“We have to go back,” he said.

“Aye,” she agreed, “but first we have to talk. You must understand what I’m doing. I have to—”

“No.” His features hardened. “Leave it as it is, Lacy. Let me go without saying something I may regret later.”

“But I haven’t betrayed you, ye pompous ass.”

“No. Ye’d think not.” He walked away from her. “Wait here. I’ll bring you something to wear. Come back to the ship like that”—he raised an eyebrow lewdly—“and not even Captain Kay will be able to hold off his crew.”

“Damn Kay and his crew!” she exclaimed. “All I want is for you to listen to me for five minutes.”

“No,” he answered. “I’m done listening to you. Hide yourself, and don’t come out until you’re certain it’s me. I’d not waste talents like yours on any common seaman.”

He strode away, leaving her to sink down amid the flowering orchards and cover her face with her hands. “If only you’d listen,” she murmured. “You’d see it has to be this way. You’d understand.” Head bowed, she hugged herself and rocked back and forth in utter misery.

When James returned an hour later, he brought the blue gown she’d seen in Matthew’s trunk for her to wear.

“I don’t want this!” she protested. “I can’t wear it.”

“You’ll damned well wear it,” he shouted at her. “Do you expect to stroll back on the ship as you are?”

“You don’t understand,” she exclaimed. “I saw this dress in a vision. I can’t—”

“To hell with you and your superstitious nonsense,” he snapped. “Put the damned dress on or I’ll put it on you.”

“If I do, Matthew will kill you.”

James swore violently. “He’s more likely to kill us both if we don’t get back to the ship in ten minutes. Both he and the crew sure as hell know what we were doing earlier. Now, put the damned dress on, Lacy.” He glared at her. “There’s nothing else for you to wear. You’ve gone through Matthew’s wardrobe.”

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and took the dreaded garment in her hands. “I can’t,” she said, dropping it to the ground.

He picked it up and threw it at her. “Put the friggin’ gown on. Matthew’s men have been weeks without a woman. Do you want to get us both murdered trying to keep them off you?”

Trembling, she pulled the beautiful dress over her head and stood woodenly for James to lace it up. “Ye must watch him,” she whispered. “He’ll shoot ye in the back when ye least expect it. I saw it. I saw it happen here on the island.”

“Yes, yes, I know. You saw it in a dream, or a trance, or a crystal ball.” He yanked the laces tight and knotted them, then gave her a little shove. “The only witchcraft about you is your body,” he said. “God knows you’ve used it on me often enough. But this time you’ve gone too fat. Matthew’s decided he can’t trust you. He says to tell you that his offer’s off.”

She gazed at him, too numb inside to weep. “And what of ye?” she demanded.

He laughed harshly. “One thing I’ll say for you, Lacy. You don’t lack courage.” He shrugged. “Do I still want you? Frankly, I don’t know.”

“What I’ve done, I’ve done to keep ye alive.” She tried to keep her voice even. Behind him, in the shadow of the trees, stood Kutii.

The Indian put his fingers to his lips, warning her to keep silent. He smiled at her, then faded back into the jungle.

Lacy blinked. It had happened so fast that she wasn’t certain if she’d really seen Kutii or if it had been wishful thinking on her part.

“If I did take you with me back to England, how could I be sure you wouldn’t leave me the first time a richer man made you an offer?” James said.

“I’d not go back to England with ye if ye were the crown prince,” she retorted sharply. “What do I care what ye and Matthew Kay want? I’ll have my fair share of the treasure, and then I’ll bid ye a fond farewell. I’ve plans of my own for the rest of my life—and they don’t include being any man’s doxy. Least of all yours!”

“Then we’re settled on that issue, aren’t we?” he said, striding off toward the ship.

“S’truth, ye pompous black-eyed bastard.” Still seething inside, but not knowing what other course to take, she followed him back to the square-rigger and Matthew Kay’s iron control.

 

The rain was the forerunner of a three-day storm. Gale winds churned the waves into an angry gray mass and threatened to beach the
Adventure.
Blinding rains made it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, and the seas were so high the anchor wouldn’t hold bottom. To avoid damage to the ship, Matthew ordered the crew to take her out of the cove. In the teeth of the storm, they sailed around the island and anchored on the far side in the shelter of the mountain. Then, when the wind dropped and the driving rains turned to scattered showers, they returned to the site of the wreck.

Lacy didn’t attempt another dive for four more days after that, and when she did, she was shocked to find that the
Miranda
was no longer where she’d last seen it. The sunken vessel and the remainder of the Incan treasure had toppled into the crevice and were irrevocably lost.

“It’s gone,” she said when she came up to the surface. “The
Miranda’s
too deep for me to reach—too deep for anyone. It may well have fallen to the devil’s kitchen, for all I know.”

“Brazen liar.” Matthew’s face had turned a waxen hue.

Lacy shook her head. “Dive for it yourself. For I’ll not go down there again.”

“You’ll damned well go if I say so,” he answered.

James came to stand beside her. “She’s got no reason to lie. She wants the treasure as much as we do.” He grinned. “Besides, we have enough. There’s no sense being greedy.”

The captain glared at them both suspiciously. “And have you two come back later and make off with the rest? It won’t work. There’s more down there, and I’ll have it—every ounce.”

She shrugged. “Then you go down to hell and fetch it.”

When Matthew’s threats and promises failed to persuade her, he forced two crewmen to dive down on the rope with weights tied to their waists. Only one came up alive, and he was half-drowned. Neither man had made it to the ocean floor, but the survivor had gone deep enough to see that there was no longer a wreck below.

“Face it, Matt,” James said. “We’ve taken all we can from the
Miranda.
But what do we care? It’s enough to make us all rich—captain, partners, and crew alike.”

“You’re right, by God,” Matthew admitted. “We are rich enough.” He glanced at the bosun. “We got what we came for. Now, it’s time to enjoy it. Break out the rum! Tonight we celebrate, and tomorrow we divide the treasure and sail for Jamaica.”

That announcement was met by a hearty round of cheers from the men. Matthew Kay was strict about drinking on board. Normally, each man received his ration per day while they were at sea, and that was that. The easing of regulations and the promise of wealth for all hands in the morning was enough to set them all laughing and shouting his name.

“One more thing,” Matthew said to the bosun. “I want that boat ...” He pointed toward the
Silkie
on the beach. “I want it launched and tied to the stern. I intend to tow it back to Port Royal.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” the sailor replied. “I’ll have her done right away, cap’n, afore the crew gets too tight t’ know which end is up.”

James, Matthew, and Lacy retired to the captain’s cabin. The three passed the afternoon by playing cards and sharing a few drinks. By the time the cabin boy served the evening meal, both men were more than a little drunk.

“I told you we’d have Morgan’s gold,” Matthew said, raising a brimming tankard in a salute. “Damn Henry Morgan to an early grave. We got the best of the bloody bastard, didn’t we?” He stroked the tomcat’s fur, and the animal purred loud enough to rattle the pewter plates on the table.

“Aye, Matthew, we did that,” James replied. “A pity we can’t rub his nose in it.”

“Right enough, boy. I knew what Henry Morgan was the first day I laid eyes on him. Remember that ship we took off Cuba ...”

Their banter continued, interspersed with sea chanteys and tall tales of Spanish ships and of captains long dead. Throughout the evening, Lacy kept filling their mugs with rum, and they kept downing them until she found herself genuinely impressed with their ability to hold their liquor.

She contented herself with a few glasses of brandywine and pretended to be as intoxicated as they were. “Never drink with a man ye canna trust,” her father had always said. She no longer trusted James, and she sure as hell didn’t trust Matthew.

She was wearing the dress she’d seen in her vision when Matthew shot James, but they were all on the ship, not on the beach, and Matthew had said they’d be sailing for Jamaica on the morning tide. As long as she didn’t let James go ashore, would he be safe?

Kutii was still on the island, and she didn’t know what to do about him. She couldn’t just leave him there. Or could she? Would he be better off there than aboard Matthew’s ship? But if they did sail without him, she’d have to find a way to fetch him back. She felt responsible for him.

She closed her eyes for a second and tried to summon up the Incan’s face. Kutii, she thought urgently. I haven’t deserted ye.

Matthew stood up and walked somewhat stiffly to the sea chest and threw open the lid. “Bring the lamp here,” he ordered. “I want to see my treasure.” Laughing, he looped a necklace around his throat and shoved a heavy gold armband over his left wrist. “What do you think?” he demanded. “Do I look like a royal governor?” He caught Lacy around the waist, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her soundly.

Lacy forced a laugh and wiggled free. “Ye do at that,” she teased. She dropped to her knees and unwrapped the large inlaid bowl. “It’s a fair thing, isn’t it?” she murmured. She spun it idly, and lantern light reflected off the polished gold surface. “Who would think savages could craft a thing of such beauty?”

“Not as fair as you are, Lacy girl,” Matthew said. “You’ll make the prettiest governor’s wife that ever graced a ballroom.”

She looked up at him in astonishment. “But James said that you didn’t want—”

“A man can change his mind, can’t he?” Matthew lifted a lock of her auburn hair and threaded it through his fingers. “We’ll make a fine pair, the two of us. But I warn you, I’ll not be so forgiving the next time you play me false. Remember that, girl.” He glanced at James. “Come, look your fill. It’s the last you’ll see of it or of her.”

“What?” James was instantly sober.

“Do you think me a fool, James?” the captain asked. “I’ll give you that small boat and a keg of water. You can keep your life, but I’ll keep the treasure.”

James pushed himself to his feet and leaned across the table. “What trickery is this?” He threw Lacy a look of such fury that she drew back and caught her breath. “You lying little bitch,” he murmured.

“Don’t blame her. She’s doing what I always taught you to do—look after your own skin.”