The Winds of Fate (37 page)

“I was alone, considered the worst of criminals, a man condemned to die, and in stepped a beautiful woman, and I−a filthy wretch, had nothing to give, but my name and heart. In my darkest hour, I awaited execution. I could not believe my luck when the King decreed to save my neck for his greed. Nor could I fathom when fate brought me a half-world away and my eyes beheld you. Because I was half out of my mind with loving you, but terrified of the depths of my feelings.” He shook his head. “You were ever present in my mind, Claire, my biggest obstacle, knowing that to survive by picking up piracy, I would earn your scorn. I compromised, keeping your purifying influence alive in my memory, vowing to keep my hands as clean as possible in the unfortunate trade I embarked, and always maintaining the elusive hope of ever seeing you again. Everything I have done, and all that I have, and all that I am, is for you.”

“Don’t you understand, it’s not about the riches. It’s about you, Devon. All of this means nothing as long as I have you. I love you.” She dropped the pearls into the chest. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Ah Claire, how long I’ve wished to hear those very words from your lips.

Two weeks passed when Claire accompanied Devon to the
Sea Scorpion
, the great ship pulled on log rollers up the beach, her great hull fully exposed. The men were employed burning and scraping off barnacles and weeds before the carpenters could get to work at caulking the seams, then tarring, and greasing the keel. It was a long arduous process Devon explained, exercising the skills of his men. Areas damaged by the ramming of the
Mer Un Serpent
had been repaired. Some of the crew hailed their Captain, while cleaning the ship from top to bottom, patching sails and sewing new ones. Devon held Claire beside him, an intimacy carelessly displayed in front of his crew. Claire blushed,
thinking of the long erotic nights spent with Devon, the wild abandon fresh in her mind and between her thighs. Claire blushed again. Did his crew guess they were sleeping together?

Looking over his shoulder to the grinning men, giving knowing winks to one another added to her discomfort, and her face heated further. “Devon, we must leave at once. Your men think I am a strumpet. I believe we must be more circumspect.” She moved away from him.

He laughed at her look of alarm and took her in his arms. “It’s a small island. Let them figure it out. Faith, we’ll help them, so there will be no mistakes.” He climbed up on the ratlines, balancing with one arm and one leg hooked to the netting. “Come about lads,” Devon urged. “I’ve an announcement to make.”

Claire shot him a desperate glance, but Devon didn’t see it. He gazed steadily as his men gathered from their labors. Even in her state of embarrassment, Claire sensed a force that communicated to all. The crowd grew silent and riveted their eyes on him. His deep Irish voice rang out over the beach and bay, carrying with it the power and force of a thunderclap.

See that beautiful woman down there?” he pointed to Claire and her mouth dropped open. “She is
my wife
!”

A round of tumultuous cheers went up.

“As your Captain, whatever oath of allegiance you have sworn to me, is sworn to her as well. What service you render to me is rendered to her as well. Your loyalty will be marked to her as you’ve done with me.”

Another round of cheers went up. Claire, reeling by Devon’s incredible declaration, forced herself to pull her gaze from his broad shoulders and look about her with dawning awe. All around her stood his crew, grinning and smiling, coming forth with hearty congratulations for both of them.

At the first possible moment, Devon whisked her aside. “For now, Madame Blackmon, I am ravenous and my immediate needs demand to be supplied.”

Claire’s eyes grew large in anticipation, forgetting the grinning sailors. They left the ship and landed on the shore when Dooley, his
shipwright presented Devon with a progress report. Despite Devon’s scowl not to be delayed, the little man remained tenacious. “The
Golden Gull
is being brought around from stem to stern, Captain in Crab Bay. She’s an ancient and bloody sight, but I’ll wager a shillin’ to a maiden’ead she’ll hold together when I’m through with her. Aye, by tomorrow.”

“Good job, Dooley,” Devon said impatiently moving away and pulling Claire at such a fast clip she had to run to keep up. Dooley ran alongside, holding his hat to this head. “But Captain Sir, don’t you want a report on the
Mer Un Serpent
?”

That stopped Devon, and Claire ran into him, his full wrath pinned on Dooley. “Didn’t I command Le Trompeur no more than ten days?”

“Yes sir,” said Dooley. “But he said he needed two more. That’s why I thought I’d be asking you, Captain. I don’t like it. Never did like the smell of the French.”

“Neither do I, Dooley. Why wasn’t I told about this before?”

“Beggin ye’re pardon sir,” Dooley looked sheepishly to Claire and turned a bright red, “You’ve been unavailable until now.”

“Get Ames and Bloodsmythe and enough good men to convince our uninvited guest to remove himself. I don’t care if the
Mer Un Serpent
sinks a mile from shore. I want it a thousand leagues from Paradise.”

“Yes sir. Right away sir.” Dooley spun on his heel and left.

Devon grabbed her hand and traversed to the house. “You’re not to leave my side until the
Mer Un Serpent
is far away from here. Do you understand?” He was more than agitated by the news.

“Yes sir. Right away, Captain,” Claire mimicked, saluting him with a playful smile. He looked at her sharply then saw she was teasing him.

“I could drag you into the forest−” he threatened.

Claire tore her hand from his grasp and ran ahead, turned, walking backward, she challenged him. “You could try−”

“I find myself starved if I don’t see you at least a dozen times a day,” Devon said, his hands clasped behind his back as he stalked her. A predatory gleam shone in Devon’s eyes. She held her hand up to ward him off. Her stomach fluttered and her breath quickened.

“You are more beautiful today than I ever remember you.” His eyes sparked wickedly.

Her body clenched on itself in direct, hungry reaction to his words, and the worst part of it was that he knew it. “You are a devil.”

“So why bother saving my immortal soul? I plan to show you more, a continuation of what we’ve enjoyed. To enjoy your body to the fullest. Yet I warn you, there are risks. You might hunger for that pleasure too much. It might lead to boldness.”

“You are very sure of your skills.” She pulled up her hair on top of her head, posturing in such a way as to kindle a fire in him, yet his words suggested a purely sensual experience.

He drew her close and brushed his lips over hers. Claire pushed him away, unbalancing him. He grabbed for her, intent on administering suitable punishment, but Claire outmaneuvered him, giggling as she picked up her skirts and dashed toward the house. Devon followed on her heels. Breathless, she dodged him in the library and scrambled into the dining room, looking for a place to hide. She screamed when his warm breath warned her of his closeness. Too late. He scooped her up in his strong arms, snatching her in his embrace. “You’ll pay for that, Claire.

“Mercy. I but a poor maid caught by a ruthless brigand,” Claire cried between helpless peals of laughter.

“Never.” Devon growled with mock ferocity and bore her to the table and laid her there. He threw up her skirts. In a froth of petticoats her slim white thighs were exposed for his perusal.

“You must stop this at once, Devon. This behavior is unseemly.” Although she didn’t really want him to stop. “What if Lily and Robert walk in?”

“I’ll remember your sly tactics to avoid the inevitable. In terms of Robert and Lily−those two are engaged in such bliss that their first child is undoubtedly rooted. Which reminds me, it’s time we created one of our own.” He unbuttoned his pants. How did he arouse so quickly? His swollen manhood stood hard, pulsing and seeking, a sword ready to thrust.

Claire sat up. “It isn’t proper. The sun is up. What if someone should happen upon us?”

“For the past two days, you’ve been unconcerned about the daylight. The servants, I’ve ordered out until dinner time and that’s the only time they’re allowed here,” he grinned wickedly.

“I fear for my virtue.” She sighed.

“Liar,” he chided, his hands shooting out to push her down on the table. “You’re my wife, I mean to take advantage of the fact, when you want it, and I want it.”

He slid his hands under her buttocks, cupping them and pulling her close to the edge. Claire had wantonly taken to not wearing undergarments for Devon’s insatiable appetite left her not knowing when he would take her next. On the beach under the stars, at the waterfalls, amidst a bed of soft forest ferns, shamelessly in his cabin on board his ship while his crew worked up above. She could not get enough of him. Her body melted in sensuality as her naked limbs were exposed to his hungry view. He bent her knees up, gently kissing one then the other. The blazing desire in his eyes stoked a burning fire, her hot scent warm and wet swirled, his nostrils flared, luring him and building her arousal in the most primitive way. A soft gasp caught within her throat when he thrust inside her. He gripped her bottom and slammed into her and within seconds, she moved with him, liquid, hot, intoxicating, exciting, her body gloving his...

Her fingers clutched at the edges of the table. Her body strained wildly and gave, allowing free rein to his passions, the relentless driving force of his body pulling her hard back upon him. And still it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, she felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, shattering in a million brilliant shards of light. He thrust, once, twice, and then spilled his seed into her, liquid and warm, the smell of his sex deliciously, permeating the air. She marveled, the warm sweet-tasting ecstasy pulsing into her.

Spent, he collapsed upon her, Claire taking his full weight, wrapping her legs and arms protectively around him, cradling his head upon her chest. In time, he rose and carried her upstairs, made love to her again then dozed and laid the day to waste, luxuriating in bed.

Until she faced Devon leaving, she would live from day to day, enjoying the simplest pleasures, savoring her newfound appreciation of life. A fragile happiness she prayed would not be shattered and taken by events beyond her control. This she vowed. She snuggled up to him and drifted off to sleep.

“What do you want?” Le Trompeur growled under a sickle moon. “If Captain Blackmon learns of my communication with you−”

“We need you to help us escape.” Jarvis gripped the bars of his prison.

“You squander my time on stupidity!” Le Trompeur’s spittle flew through the bars.

“Hear us out. We have a proposal that I’m sure will interest you. A quid pro quo arrangement,” Jarvis smoothly suggested.

“What can you possibly offer me of value, locked in a jail?”

“A ransom for myself and Sir Teakle.”

Le Trompeur huffed. “Fools. I must be gone by tomorrow. To think I crossed this island in the middle of the night for nothing. I should slit your throats.”

“Hear me out,” said Sir Jarvis, inspired with his own cleverness. “There is enmity between you and the Black Devil. I can give you vital information on him. He was a slave on my plantation. I know his Achilles heel. In fact, I can give you something very dear to him. How would you like to be a marionette, pulling all his strings?”

Le Trompeur leaned against the grill work. “You have my interest.”