Pirate Wolf Trilogy (131 page)

“Be double damned. That was Muertraigo
his-self, weren’t it?”

Dante was watching, too
fascinated to reply. Some of the ejected men who were, Gabriel
supposed, loyal to Muertraigo had climbed into one of the longboats
and were now pulling their captain out of the water and helping him
on board. The
San Mateo
was already under way, gliding into the middle of
the bight following in the wake of her sister ship,
El Gato
which was under
full sail, the curve of her canvas sheets lit from beneath by the
blaze of lights on deck.

The longboat was rowed
toward the
Cormorant
, followed by a dozen or so strong swimmers who did not care
to make for the beach and its ghostly inhabitants.

William Chandler strode to the top of the
bluff, standing bare-skinned in full view. He had stripes of
luminous mud painted down the front of his chest and down his arms
and legs to resemble the big bones of a skeleton. One hand was
holding a glowing skull, the other was planted on his hip as he
shook his head and snorted.

“What do you make of that, my fine
friends?”

“In all honesty, I’m not quite sure,” Dante
murmured. “There was obviously a differing opinion on board as to
how to proceed next, and by the look of it, Muertraigo lost the
debate.”

“He’ll not find a warmer
welcome aboard the
Cormorant
,” Chandler guessed, more
hope than confidence behind his words.

“I can’t say I am entirely happy to see them
put on sail,” Gabriel said grimly. “I would have liked another
chance to get my hands around the bastard’s throat.”

“Rest assured, lad, you’ve done more damage
to him today than you realize. His crews have mutinied, he has lost
his ships. And when word spreads that he was defeated in a battle
against some ghosts flinging coconuts… well…” Chandler paused to
guffaw, “he will be the laughingstock of the Indies.”

Dante pushed himself
upright. The last of the swimmers had climbed aboard the
Cormorant
and she was
starting to glide further out into the bight. Dante’s eyes were
cold and hard, and he stared as if he could see the Spaniard where
he stood on deck.

“Next time.” He murmured the promise. “I’ll
get you next time.”

“I’d give half my pecker,” Chandler
declared, “to be on board right now, privy to the conversation
between Muertraigo and Ross. Come to think on it,” he paused and
frowned. “Did you happen to see the tall skinny bastard on the
beach? Yellowish hair, a nose like an arrowhead long enough he can
wipe it with his tongue?”

“I didn’t notice,” Dante
said, his eyes still trained on the
Cormorant
as he turned his head
slightly to address Rowly. “Send a couple of the men after them
along the coast to follow and make sure they stay headed out to
sea.”

“Aye,” Rowly said, nodding. “I’ll send Dunn
an’ Betts. You’d best go back to camp an’ let Doc Podd have a look
at where all that blood is comin’ from.”

Dante shook his head. “It’s not mine… for
once.”

Chandler clapped him on the shoulder.
“Nonetheless, you can’t do anything more here and I warrant I know
someone else who is anxious to see that you’ve come through it
without any new leaks or holes.”

~~

Eva was not sure what to think about the
cool reaction Dante had given her earlier. She had wanted to run
out and throw her arms around him but the glance he had cast in her
direction had been so cold, she hadn’t dared. When he walked past,
he had done exactly that: he had walked past without sparing her
even the most miserly of smiles or nods.

She was under no illusions and had no
expectations that he would declare undying love or even admit to
any manner of affection. But he had cheered the men and stopped to
praise their efforts. He had ruffled Eduardo’s hair and gripped
Billy Crab’s arm in passing. Was a special smile or a nod too much
to have hoped for?

She sighed and stirred the huge kettle of
boar stew that sat bubbling over the fire. As the men returned from
the beach, she filled their cups with rum and handed them wide
banana leaves filled with the meaty concoction. Some retreated to
the shadows to eat, then to sleep, and those who still wore fresh
mud on their skin glowed eerily, making it resemble a camp
populated by ghouls.

Eventually, after most of the stragglers had
wandered in, she heard her father’s booming laugh and glanced over,
watching the glow approach through the woods. Because he was
dressed in his usual black shirt and black breeches, Dante was
practically invisible by William’s side until they entered the ring
of firelight.

The two men headed directly for the cask of
rum, the contents of which Podd was doling out liberally. Gabriel
hesitated a moment as if debating what was more appealing, rum or
the scent of food. He saw Eva standing by the fire but no sooner
did he catch her eye than she looked away.

William nudged his arm and thrust a panniken
of rum into his hand. “A toast! To the cleverest damn captain on
the Ocean-Sea and the bravest damn men I’ve ever had the honor to
fight alongside!”

The men gave a rousing cheer and used the
excuse to crowd around the barrel and fill their cups again. Dante
hung back, his gaze flicking over to Eva, who seemed determined not
to notice. She even went so far as to turn her back in favor of
sharing a word and a smile with one of the crewmen.

He sipped his rum and watched for a while as
she continued to lavish the stew and the men with all of her
attention. Her hair had come loose from the long braid and strands
of it drifted around her shoulders, catching the firelight; her
shirt was belted tight at her waist defining the shape of her
breasts and hips in a way that was making some of the casual
glances from the men become not so casual.

Gabriel finished his rum and tossed the
panniken aside. He strode across the width of the clearing and came
up behind her, pausing only long enough for her to sense his
presence and turn. Without a word, he leaned over, wrapped an arm
around her upper thighs and hoisted her up, slinging her over his
shoulder.

“Excuse us, gentlemen. The Mermaid is needed
elsewhere.”

With the men laughing and Eva spluttering
protests, he carried her out of the camp and back along the forest
path, taking the fork that led to the pond. He did not stop on the
bank or set her down, he walked straight into the water and waded
out, dunking them both.

She came up gasping. “What—? How dare you!
What on earth—?” She coughed and spat out a mouthful of water, then
gripped his shoulders to keep from going under again.

“I thought I had better do it before one of
the other men you were flirting with took a similar notion into his
head.”

“Flirting? I was not flirting!”

“It looked that way to me… and to them.”

He kept hold around her waist as she pushed
the water and hair off her face. “Well… I wasn’t. I was being…
polite… and friendly.”

“Friendly? With men who haven’t had a woman
in a month or more? That is a dangerous game to play Mistress
Chandler.”

She coughed again and when she looked at
him, her expression was so befuddled, he laughed, pulled her close,
and kissed her hard enough to take her breath away.

“They would never do such a thing,” she
gasped when she was able. “Not when they know that you and I… that
we…”

“Yes? That we—?”

She saw his grin and wanted to kick him
underwater.

“It might shock you, Mermaid, to know that
many a ship’s captain share women with their men, especially when
those men have performed admirably in battle. Some even consider it
part of the reward.”

“And does the woman have no say in the
matter?”

“No. If she has agreed to become the
captain’s woman, she accepts the shared responsibilities involved
in keeping his crew happy.”

Eva’s defiance faltered slightly. “I can’t
believe the captain would not want to keep her to himself.”

“Well that would depend, of course, on
whether or not she became tiresome.”

“Tiresome?”

“Aye. As in always disobeying direct orders,
or vowing to do one thing then foolishly doing another.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“Thank goodness I am not a captain’s woman
then,” she said softly.

His hand came out of the water and cupped
her chin firmly, tipping it up so she was forced to look him in the
eye. “And have you no wish to be?”

His mouth was so temptingly close she could
feel their breaths mingling. It was the subtle promise in the amber
eyes, however, that sent shivers down her spine.

“That would depend, sir,” she whispered.

“On what?”

“On what responsibilities he would expect
her to accept.”

“He… I… would expect her to understand that
she belonged to me and me alone. That if I caught her flirting or
attempting to make me jealous by doing so… I would put her over my
knee and turn her arse red.”

“That seems… reasonable,” she agreed
softly.

“I am a reasonable man.”

Eva ran the tip of her tongue across her
lips. “And how would a simple, modest woman go about gaining this
vaunted position?”

“By not being the least bit simple,” he
said, bringing her even closer. “And by knowing when to be modest,
and when… not to be.”

She nodded as if seriously considering his
words. One of her hands slipped off his shoulder and sank under the
water. “And… how would one know when not to be?”

Gabriel maintained the hold around her waist
as he treaded water, difficult enough to do in sodden clothes and
boots. When he felt her fingers slide down to cup the hard bulge in
his breeches, he briefly lost his concentration and water lapped
over his chin and into his mouth.

“That would be one way,” he sputtered
through a laugh.

She tipped her head with an ingenuousness
that belied the way her hand loosened his breeches and curled
around his flesh. “Are there others?”

“I can think of one or two,” he murmured,
capturing her lips again. Locked together, he took them back to the
edge of the pond where it was shallow enough for him to stand on
the sandy bottom. Once there he scooped her into his arms and
lifted her onto the mossy bank where he peeled her clothing away
then shed his own.

As the last garment was discarded, he
lowered himself between her flared thighs and hooked each slender
leg over his shoulders. Disregarding her squirms, he kissed his way
down from her breasts, to her belly, to the glistening thatch of
soft yellow curls. There, he ran his tongue down and up the silky
folds then looked at her as she gasped in shock and clutched at his
arms.

“This is
definitely
one of those
times when modesty should be cast aside, Mermaid. Unless you have
an objection to being mine, and mine alone.”

Eva felt another shivery thrill. It was not
a declaration or even an admission of affection, but it was enough
to send a stunningly sharp streak of pleasure through her body. She
shifted her knees slightly opening herself to him. She clutched his
upper arms to keep from flying out of her skin, then pressed her
head back into the moss.

“No objections, Captain,” she whispered
raggedly. “None at all.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said and lowered
his mouth again.

As his tongue worked its magic, Eva’s
fingers clawed desperately into his arms. Her heels dug into his
back giving her leverage to lift her hips, to rock them this way
and that as he probed and licked and suckled. She arched high, and
his hands held her there, pressed against his mouth as the waves of
pleasure rippled from her toes to the roots of her hair. Her groans
and whispers and shivered cries kept him there, kept him teasing
and tormenting until she could withhold what he sought no longer
and the orgasm exploded in a series of hot, sweet spasms.

She had barely recovered from the first
assault when she felt his body slide up. He did not let her lower
her legs, but kept them over his shoulders as his flesh found the
still-quivering mouth of her sex and plunged deep and hard to her
core.

Eva dragged in a long, ragged breath as she
felt the uncompromising possession of his thrusts. He laid powerful
claim to what was his, stroking and plunging and filling her so
completely that when he arched up and clenched his teeth through a
hoarse, triumphant groan, she felt every pulse, every burst of
liquid heat, every shudder as her own.

So intense was the pleasure that long after
they had collapsed, panting and gasping in each other’s arms,
little shudders and twitches continued to echo through their bodies
making them reluctant to draw apart. They drifted to sleep with
their bodies joined, their mouths no more than an inch apart, arms
and legs entwined so it was difficult to tell where one ended and
the other began.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Rowly approached the glade with caution and
whistled a tune that was more breath than sound. In the five days
and nights following the ambush, it had become a well-known secret
that the captain and his lady had staked out the privacy of the
glade for their own purposes and few were reckless enough to
intrude upon them without giving fair warning first.

Eduardo, who was more than half in love with
captain’s beautiful mermaid, had made them a soft bed of palm
fronds and blankets on the embankment. They were lying there now,
Rowly noted, identifying a pair of pale, slender legs tangled with
a pair of tanned muscular ones.

He moistened his lips and whistled
again.