Nobody's Saint (12 page)

“What did he say?” she demanded, trying to pull herself free of his clasp. “What language is that?”

“Portuguese,” Pádraig answered. “We’re a bit of an international crew, here. He’s wanting to know whether I’ll be sharing, seeing as how I’m bringing you on board. Not nice to enjoy something in front of others unless there’s plenty to go around.” He laughed heartily and called something back up to his cohort.

Mary Kate grabbed a fistful of her bundle with her free hand, yanking hard and pulling him off balance, while she drove her knee straight and true between his legs. She was rewarded by the immediate release of her belongings and her hand as he crumpled to the street, gritting a long string of musical curses through his tightly clenched teeth. She didn’t wait to see what his mate would do. Tucking her bundle under her arm, she set off at a dead run back up the pier.

Behind her, footsteps thundered on the wooden planks and echoed off of the water. There were more in pursuit than Pádraig and his friend! At the end of the pier she turned to run in the opposite direction of
Magdalena
, only to spy a group of unsavory sailors who all straightened to attention at the sight of her. Here, at the far end of the dock, an honest merchant vessel was not to be found. With another colorful phrase, she spun and raced back toward the heart of the harbor.

*

The words Diego muttered under his breath in Spanish were not far off from the ones Mary Kate had just spat in
Gaeilge
. At first, it seemed that she had simply disappeared, but now he spied a fat commotion near the docks favored by pirates, and he had the sinking feeling he had just found her. He glanced behind him and then set into a run. He had eight men, all armed, all as skilled with a sword as any on the high seas.

They had better be enough.

He had expected to find her surrounded, begging for mercy. He definitely did
not
expect her to be running, hell-bent, ahead of the pack. When he reached for her, she ducked her head and nearly ran him down and knocked him flat on his back. She almost made it through his own group of men, until Enrique snagged a handful of her glorious, black hair and hauled her backwards by it.

“
¡Maldito sea!
” she cried, and Diego had to shake his head in wonder. She seemed to be picking up on her Spanish very quickly.

He and the rest of the men quickly surrounded her and Enrique, swords at the ready. It could have been worse. A quick head count gave him ten opponents. Eight to ten—they had fought pirates against greater odds and lived to tell of it.

For a while, the two bands of men stared at each other in hostile silence. The only sound was that of Mary Kate spitting like an angry cat as she tried to pry Enrique’s hand from her hair. Finally, one of the pirates started to laugh, joined one by one by the others.

“Is the hell-cat yours?” he asked Diego, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Diego made a sour face and rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “For the moment.”

“You will have furrows an inch deep on your back tonight,” the other man chortled. Then he called to his companions, “We will leave the poor fool to his fate! Come, there are softer, more eager women to be had in La Habana!”

No one let down his guard until the motley crew was well past them. Finally, Diego turned and looked at the thoroughly mussed, flush-cheeked, glaring burden in whose hair Enrique’s hand was still buried.

“Bring her,” he commanded. “And do not be gentle.”

It had never occurred to Mary Kate that a man might actually drag a woman a full quarter of a mile by her hair. Surely, once she had stopped struggling, Enrique might have taken her by the arm or something! And Diego! The oh-so-honorable, oh-so-proper Captain Do-good, was just letting him! She tried to get his attention and tell him to call off his dog, but the prig just marched along at the head of the crew, never once looking in her direction! Bloody bastard!

Enrique forced her all the way on board, through the hatch and down the ladder with her scalp on fire. If she went bald after this she would never forgive a single one of them! He started to shove her toward her cabin, but Diego stopped him and gestured toward his own quarters.

Once inside the cabin, Enrique released her, and she pressed her own hand to the back of her head and struggled against tears of relief. She threw her bundle on the floor and stomped over to Diego’s bed where she sat down hard, nursing her pride and running her fingers under her hair, searching for patches of bare skin.

“I hate you!” she spat.

“You are a complete imbecile!” he fired back.

“I was outrunning them, you meddling swab!”

“And where did you think you were going? To find another crew of men to take you home?”

“If I hadn’t had to sneak off in the middle of the night, and I weren’t being chased by yourself, I would have had time to find a more reputable ship!”

“So this is my fault?”

“Who else’s fault would it be?”

“You ungrateful little—”

“Ungrateful? And what might I be feeling grateful for? That you had your mate haul me back to your ship by my hair? Well, I’m not of a mind to be feeling much gratitude for that!”

“For saving you, yet again, from a fate worse than death. I risked my life and the lives of my men
twice
on your behalf!”

“Ha! You didn’t take on those first pirates out of any worry for me. You didn’t even know I was on board that ship.”

¡Maldita sea!
She had him there. “If we had not been there tonight…”

“If you hadn’t been there tonight I’d be on my way home! I was outrunning them! I can take care of myself, Diego Montoya!”

“Can you?” he growled. “If a man is of a mind to overpower a woman, María Catalina, he will, and he will take what he wants without her say-so.”

Mary Kate stood up and set her fists firmly on her hips. “Not with me!”

By all that was holy, he meant only to teach her a lesson. He reached her in three strides, grabbed her wrists, and yanked her hands over her head while he pushed her backwards onto the bed. She twisted and writhed in his grasp, and he pinned her to the mattress with his full weight.

“Let me go, you son-of-a-bitch!”

“Make me, María Catalina. Stop me. Deny me.” His blood was still on fire from the near fight with the pirates and his rage with the woman struggling under him, but the feel of her, the way that her hips wriggled against his, fanned those flames and turned them into something altogether different. Before he could think about what he was doing, his lips were on hers.

Mary Kate opened her mouth to curse him again, and then his tongue filled her, lapped at her, seemed to be gulping every last ounce of will from her body. She didn’t know what was happening. One minute, she was angrier than hell with this man, and the next, she couldn’t have enough. She tried to pry her wrists from him so she could touch him, but he held them firmly above her head. Blindly seeking his warm, hard body, she tried to arch her back and press her entire body into his.

At last, he released one wrist and dragged his hand roughly over her breast, setting it afire, and she used that freed hand to pull his head closer so that she could drink more deeply of his hot, moist mouth.

Diego was lost, drowning in the taste of her, the texture of her tongue against his, the way she rose up to meet him, and the wild, urgent whimpers she fed him with her sweet mouth. His hand had a will of its own and moved past the soft mound it had been exploring to slide over her skirt and begin pulling it up, up, seeking the softness of her thigh.

He lifted his head to drag a gulp of air into his lungs and looked down at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips swollen and parted, and she was panting lightly. For a split second, he saw Magdalena in the mist, and he jumped back, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Those blue eyes widened in surprised. “What?”

But Diego did not trust himself to speak. His body was on fire, but his head was rapidly coming back to cold, hard reason. What had possessed him?

For a moment, Mary Kate felt abandoned and completely disoriented. Then she realized what had almost happened. Granted, this was a sacrifice she was willing to make, but she hadn’t been about to make it happen on purpose. She had simply been swept away. She had nearly done it because she had wanted to. That was another matter entirely!

“You were saying?” Diego said, finally catching his breath.

But Mary Kate was nobody’s fool. She hadn’t been the only one who had lost her head. “I was saying no man would take me without my say-so. You had my say-so, Diego.”

“Would you have given it to one of those men tonight?” he asked, purposefully trying to sting her.

She only smiled. “I’ve spent too much of my life getting others to do as I wish by saying things to make them mad. It won’t work on me. Nay, I’d not have given it to any of them, but I’m giving it to you now. I want you, Diego, and you want me too; you know it.”

God, he could almost feel her naked skin in his hands, and the taste of her mouth lingered still on his tongue. “Do you care nothing at all for your honor? Are honesty and virtue nothing to you?”

“Virtue, honesty, what are these to a woman who is desperate?”

Diego felt a chill. He had heard those words before. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m desperate! Maybe I hate you, but I want you, too, and I can admit that! Maybe I want a night for myself ere I must give myself time and again to that disgusting English pig!”

He brushed aside his dream of Magdalena. That Mary Kate had echoed her words was a coincidence. He latched on to her latest protest. “So that is it. You think to use me to despoil you so your betrothed will reject you.”

Mary Kate shrugged. “Most men would prefer to think it was their own prowess that tempted a woman to fall. Think what you will. I’ve kissed a lad or two, or maybe twice as many more. But I’ve never felt that, what I felt just now. I couldn’t have pretended that if I’d tried. You want honesty, Diego? There it is.”

“Go to bed, Mary Kate.”

“Here?” she asked hopefully.

He would have taken her by the shoulders and shaken her if he were not damned certain that he would only end up kissing her again. Instead, he opened his door and gestured across the hall.

She stooped to retrieve her bundle of clothes, then stopped and hiked up her skirt.

“
¡Madre de Dios!
” Diego muttered, sticking his head in the passageway and then turning back to her. “You truly are completely
desvergonzada
!”

Laughing, Mary Kate unfastened the brooch from her petticoat. “This is yours. Well, ‘tisn’t yours, but ‘tis not mine, either.”

Diego’s face darkened. “You stole that from the hold!”

She tossed it carelessly onto his bed. “Give me back my dowry ere you accuse me of thievery.”

“I did not steal your dowry!”

“The hell you didn’t!”

“I have already explained. It was part of the spoils of the hostilities between our countries.”

Mary Kate gave an indignant gasp. “And what hostilities are there between Ireland and Spain? ‘Tis sure I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“It is English money.”

“It is
my
money!”

“Your English grandfather is sending it to your English fiancé.”

“There’s an Irishwoman in the middle there, somewhere.”

“Mary Kate—” he began, then stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. A stabbing pain was beginning to settle in right between his eyes.

“I could take your mind off that headache,” she offered in a husky voice.

Diego opened the door even wider. “You had better leave before I do something we will both regret.”

“Make love to me?”

“Murder you.”

With a little sigh, Mary Kate gave up. Once they were well away from Havana, he’d have naught to occupy his thoughts save her. She could wait a night or two. Nonetheless, as she sauntered past him, she stopped and ran her hand lightly down his chest. “I wasted the last of me rose water. Seeing as I gave you back that pretty trinket, might you find me another bottle of perfume while you’re wandering the docks tomorrow?”

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, but the sly smile that played upon her lips and the slanted look she gave him nearly shattered his resolve. “Good night.”

She leaned closer and laughed when he swore under his breath. “Good night, Diego. Sleep well.”

*

While Diego moaned softly in his sleep, a dark-haired woman bent over him and reached her hand toward his forehead.

“Mary Magdalene!” another woman’s voice shouted, but it didn’t disturb Diego’s slumber.

At the sound of her name, the woman straightened. “What?”

The other Mary emerged from the shadows. “He told you to stay out of his life.”

“They’re so close.”

“It has nothing to do with them and everything to do with you. You just cannot stand having him mad at you.”

“Are you accusing me of being motivated by my
ego
?”

“Yes, I am. You are not needed here.”

“How can you say that? She nearly ran away from him! They had a huge fight, and…”

“And are well on their way to making up,” Mother Mary interrupted. “Perhaps you should take a look at what he is dreaming about before you pop in and interfere.”

Magdalene turned her attention back to Diego, focusing all of her attention on him. A sly smile broke out across her face. “My goodness, Diego!” She turned back to Mary and said, “She’d do that with him, too, if he explained it to her.”

Mary shook her head. “I am not about to discuss the intimate dreams of a soul while it inhabits flesh. I just thought you should know that nature is taking her course here.”

“And Mary Kate?”

“Well, she does not have the same knowledge base as our friend here, so her dreams are less—well—creative, but hers are of the same bent.”

“Perhaps you should make sure she remembers them in the morning—so she can write them down in her little book.”

“Leave them be, Mary.”