Taken by You (43 page)

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Authors: Connie Mason

BOOK: Taken by You
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“About Renalda. You won’t regret bringing her along with us. She’s my friend. I’ll take care of her.”

Morgan gave a snort of laughter. “Stan beat you to it. He’s already accepted responsibility for her. In fact he seems quite taken with her, and she with him. But forget them, I’m famished for you again. Every day without you was an eternity. I want to love you again… if you’re not too tired,” he added hopefully.

“That’s what I want, too,” Luca sighed, pressing against him in blatant invitation.

Morgan took his time arousing her, kissing her lips, her face, her breasts, stroking the tender folds between her legs. Suddenly he rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him. Bringing her face down to his, he cradled the back of her neck in one hand and kissed her hungrily. He lowered his head to nuzzle her throat. She shivered in response.

“Morgan,
Dios…”

Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him in unmistakable urgency as his sex throbbed against her stomach. He cupped her sweet breast in his hand and flicked her turgid nipple with his thumb. She cried out when he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled gently.

“I want you inside me!” Her plea made Morgan swell and thicken to nearly painful proportions.

Acting upon her most fervent desire, she raised slightly, grasped the jutting length of his staff, and guided it inside her, at the same time lowering herself upon him. Unable to remain passive, Morgan thrust violently upward, sheathing himself completely.

Pleasure shuddered through Luca, relishing every nuance of his lovemaking—the warmth of his slender hips against her inner thighs, the feel of his strong hands spanning her buttocks, holding her immobile for his upward thrusts. The throbbing heat of him inside her, thick and hard, surrounded by her own wetness, the feel of his slick, hard-muscled flesh beneath her hands. Never would she grow tired of the magic of Morgan’s loving.

Then suddenly she was weightless and powerless, drifting into oblivion as ecstasy shuddered through her. She called out his name, but Morgan was too consumed with his own climax to respond. Jerking violently, Morgan pulled her down and seized her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in perfect harmony with his thrusting below. He stiffened and gave a hoarse shout as he spun out of control.

After a long interval, Morgan pulled Luca into the curve of his body. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” Luca sighed contentedly as she relaxed against him and drifted off to sleep.

Morgan awakened early and went down to the common room, discovering that Stan and Renalda had already broken their fast, and now waited for him and Luca. “Where is Luca?” Renalda asked worriedly. “She is all right, isn’t she?”

“She’s fine,” Morgan grinned, “just exhausted. I think she should rest today. You and Renalda go on ahead and wait for us aboard the
Avenger.”

“Are you sure, Morgan?” Crawford asked anxiously. “’Tis dangerous to linger in a hostile country.”

“According to Luca, she is free to leave the convent whenever she chooses. We are still husband and wife, and no one can stop me from taking what is mine.”

“Very well, Renalda and I will leave immediately. It you don’t join us within twenty-four hours, I’ll come looking for you.”

Morgan grinned, realizing how fortunate he was to have a faithful friend like Stan Crawford. “Luca and I will leave first thing in the morning. I promise we will be with you well within the allotted time.”

They made their farewells. Before returning upstairs to his sleeping wife, Morgan ordered breakfast to be served in their room.

Luca was grateful for Morgan’s concern. She was indeed exhausted. Seeing Morgan again, learning that he loved her and spending long hours last night making love with him had been too much excitement for a pregnant lady. She seemed to tire so easily these days. It took little urging on Morgan’s part to persuade Luca to spend the day in bed, and she welcomed the opportunity to be alone with Morgan for an entire day without interference.

“Tell me about Renalda,” Morgan asked as they shared dinner that night in their room. “She said her parents disowned her. Was she lying?”

“’Tis the truth,” Luca vowed. “Renalda fell in love with a young vaquero, and her father forbade her to see him. She was soon to marry a man she’d been betrothed to since childhood. Renalda and her vaquero ran away, intending to marry, but her lover was killed before the deed was done. After learning that Renalda and Antonio had spent one night together, her fiancé refused to honor their betrothal. Her family became very angry. She had dishonored them and was banished forthwith to the convent.”

“Why didn’t she leave if she was unhappy?”

“You don’t understand our customs. Where would she go? What would she do? She had no money, no family to take her in, and no way to support herself. She is not a
puta
and could never become one. A young girl has little choice regarding her future. She is but a pawn in the scheme of life. I suppose when you and Stan came along, Renalda saw a way out of her dilemma and took it.”

“I hope Stan doesn’t take advantage of Renalda,” Morgan mused. “He seems quite taken with her and can be very aggressive when he wants to be.”

“Why not let nature take its course,” Luca advised. “I haven’t spoken with Renalda yet, but I do know she is a woman who knows her own mind and isn’t afraid to take chances. If Stan oversteps the bounds of decency, Renalda will set him straight Unless,” she added cryptically, “she is of the same mind as Stan.”

“Then I won’t worry about her,” Morgan said. “Are you finished eating? We should retire early, for tomorrow will be a long day. I promised Stan we would join him on the
Avenger
within twenty-four hours, and I don’t want him to worry if we are late.”

“Morgan, would it be possible to bid my father good-bye before we leave Cadiz? Tis unlikely I’ll see him again. He’s always done what he thought was best for me, even if I didn’t agree. I regret that a ship of his line sank the one carrying your family, but that was a long time ago. I’d like Father to know that I’m going to have his grandchild.”

Morgan didn’t think it was a good idea, but Luca looked so hopeful that he hadn’t the heart to refuse her. “If it means so much to you, love, we’ll stop.”

“Gracias,
Morgan, now I’m ready for bed.” Her eyes glowed darkly, hinting of mischief and pleasure … mostly pleasure.

“You need your rest, Luca,” Morgan warned in an effort to restrain the erection straining against his codpiece.

“There will be plenty of time for rest once we are aboard the
Avenger.”
She reached for him, and Morgan was lost.

They made love gently, tenderly, each aware that there were many more days of loving one another left to them in this lifetime. And perhaps more in the next.

The sound of steps pounding in the hallway outside their door awakened Morgan. He reached for his sword, cursing violently when he noted that it lay across the room atop the pile of clothing that he had shed hastily and left carelessly on the worn carpet. He jerked upright, grateful that he’d had the foresight to lock the door. But before he could rise from bed, the door was battered open and men spilled into the room.

Frightened from a sound sleep, Luca shrieked and pulled the sheet up to her chin. Her eyes were wild, her heart pumping furiously.

“My mistake was in not killing you in Havana,” one of the men sneered, as he surveyed the rumpled bed and disheveled couple occupying it with disdain.

Luca stared at the two men standing on the threshold, blanching when recognition dawned. “Father! Don Diego! What are you doing here?”

“Bloody Hell,” Morgan muttered beneath his breath. If it wasn’t for bad luck he wouldn’t have any luck at all. How in the Hell had they found him? Who’d told them he was in Spain? And why wasn’t del Fugo in Havana?

Chapter 22

M
organ did not like the odds stacked against him. Standing behind Don Diego and Don Eduardo were two armed henchmen. Morgan glanced at Luca and swore beneath his breath. She was pale and shaking like a leaf.

“I’m sorry we did not arrive in time to prevent the pirate from hurting you again, daughter,” Don Eduardo said, thinking that he had truly saved Luca from the Devil. “Father Pedro returned from Rome a week ago. The Holy Father has granted an annulment of your marriage. I was preparing to journey here to tell you the good news when Diego arrived.”

“Morgan did not hurt me, Father,” Luca protested. “Please leave us.”

Morgan kept his eyes trained on del Fugo, whose right hand was poised over the hilt of his sword. The Spaniard’s glowering expression did not bode well for Morgan. Morgan glanced wistfully at his own sword with no hope of recovering it. Without it and his clothing, he was as vulnerable as a newborn babe. He was at a most definite disadvantage.

“Diego came all the way from Havana to make you his bride. He is willing to overlook your past indiscretion with the Englishman. Before you leave Spain I will see you properly wed to Diego.”

Luca’s eyes burned with indignation. “Why is everyone trying to destroy my marriage? I don’t want an annulment. Diego is a man without scruples. He doesn’t want me, ‘tis my dowry he craves. He’d do anything to keep it for himself.”

“You wrong me, Luca,” Diego said contritely. “I was overset when I realized you were not the virgin bride I expected, but I would have done the right thing by you once my anger had cooled. I’ve apologized profusely to your father, that’s why I came all the way to Spain. We will speak our vows before sailing to Havana.”

Morgan’s rage escalated as Diego spouted his lies. No piece of paper could simply dissove what he and Luca shared. The deceitful bastard would never get his hands on his wife or their child. Heedless of his nudity, Morgan surged from bed and took a menacing step toward Diego.

“Get out of here, all of you! Luca is my wife and will remain my wife.”

Diego smiled nastily and stepped aside, allowing his henchmen into the room. Morgan’s jaw tightened as he made a wild dash for his sword. Alas, it was not to be. Diego’s men were on him in seconds. Though he fought bravely, he was overpowered when Diego joined the fray, bringing the hilt of his sword down with crushing force on Morgan’s head. Luca screamed as Morgan crumbled to the ground.

“Shall we kill him,
patrón?”
one of the henchmen asked, pressing the tip of his sword against Morgan’s exposed throat.

“Noooo!” Luca screamed. “Father, if you love me, don’t let them kill Morgan.”

Don Eduardo looked at his frantic daughter and relented. “Luca is right, Don Diego. It is not up to us to kill the pirate. Take him to Cadiz and turn him over to the authorities. There is a generous reward for his capture. I will follow with Luca when she has calmed down. Come to the house tomorrow, and we will make plans for the wedding.”

Luca was sobbing softly, wanting to go to Morgan but unable to because of her nudity. “Don’t hurt him, please. He was wounded recently and hasn’t fully recovered from his injuries.”

“We will find a nice comfortable
calabozo
for him,” Don Diego laughed. “Bind him with drapery cords,” he ordered. By the time the henchmen finished, Morgan was beginning to stir. “Take him away.”

“Wait, give him his clothing,” Luca pleaded. “Allow him some dignity.”

Diego paid her no need, but Don Eduardo gathered together Morgan’s clothing and handed them to one of the henchmen. “Take him out into the hallway and help him dress.”

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