by Angel Payne
There was her obstacle. She knew Mast better than that.
Knew him…loved him.
And now, had confessed it to him from the space inside that he’d filled with understanding and joy instead of suspicion and hatred.
And received the biggest silence of them all as her reply.
Not a summons to Dinky’s quarters, where Mast insisted he was more comfortable when they’d arrived back at the ship, and had Ben tend his wounds there. Not an answer to any of the questions that the side hold still posed.
Not a hand to answer hers across the chasm of confusion between them.
“You lookin’ gloomy enough to frighten the death spirits.”
Golden started. She hadn’t heard Maya slip into the cabin. “Don’t tempt me,” she grumbled.
Maya didn’t rally with her normal comeback. She descended the stairs then sat next to Golden, curling their hands together. “Still nothing?”
The native lilt to her sister’s voice was a soothing dose of home. In response to Mast’s wall of icy silence, Golden had resolved to prove just how indifferent she could be, but she let herself grip the warm brown fingers in return. Hard.
“Nay,” she replied. “It’s been two days…and the answer’s still…nay.”
“Sister, maybe you should go to him—”
“You don’t think I’ve tried?” She’d lost count of how many times she’d gone to Dinky’s cabin. She’d tried gently calling to Mast, even pleading through. “Funny,” she sneered. “He always seems to be ‘asleep’ when I visit.”
Again, Maya preceded her response with a thoughtful silence. “Things changed in New Providence, didn’t they?”
She averted her stare to the ceiling. “Is it that plain?”
“Only to me.” Maya’s smile permeated her reply. “You like a pamperos storm now. Changing. And fragile.” The native tugged gently on her hand. “Sister, what happened?”
Strange, but contemplating the answer really did fill Golden with anger. But this time, at herself. At Roche Braziliano. At any and all pirates like him.
For all she knew, Mast could still very well be one of them.
“I told you already,” she rushed out. “I was going to be sold into marriage. Mast found me just in time, but they made him fight for me—”
“No, sister. What happened in New Providence?”
She swallowed. Somehow, the confession frightened her now.
“Just before Mast went to the dueling log, I told him that I love him.”
Silence.
Golden looked at her sister.
“Maya?”
The woman clutched her so tightly, she struggled for air. “Glory to mighty Puntan,” Maya exclaimed. “You finally got your senses, girl.” She finally pulled away so their gazes could meet. Maya’s eyes were dark with somber meaning. “You mean it, too?” she prodded. “You love him truly?”
“Aye. I love him, Maya. Truly.”
“And he love you, too?”
“I don’t know.”
She glanced away. Tears nipped at the backs of her eyes again. It had become an agony to battle them since that fated night in the swamp. “There’s still so much I don’t know. So many questions without answers.” She bit her lip. “I might have…fallen in love with a lie.”
“And no other woman thinks the same thing?” Maya humphed. “No, sister. There only be one way to know that for sure.”
“How?”
“Ask yourself.” The native took her hand and pressed it over her heart. “In here.” Her sister smiled softly. “I did.”
“And…” Golden took her turn to prod, though the meaningful glow on her sister’s face already told a story of its own. “Did Dinky tell you he loved you, too?”
Maya’s cinnamon lips parted on a bright grin. “He told me first.”
“Oh, sister…that’s wonderful! He’s a good man, and he’s made you happy.”
But she could see Maya doing a mental weed-through of her words, picking out the tones of cheer.
“Where is Dinky now?” She intended to change the subject by continuing it. “And why are you not with him?”
Her plan was successful. Maya’s smile returned as she moved back to the stairs. “Peabrooke gets relieved at watch in a little while. Then we going to the island to watch the sunset.”
“Mmmmm. Sounds nice.”
Maya suddenly straightened. Her gaze brightened with tiny gold flecks. “Golden, why you not come with us?”
A knot of discomfort twisted in her stomach. “No, sister. I’d feel—errmmm—”
I’d feel Mast. In every rush of wind through the trees. In every sensuous roll of the dark-blue water. In every kiss, every touch, every caress you and Dinky share. I’d feel Mast. And I’d feel horrible.
“Ya’d feel fabulous.” Dinky appeared at the hatch. He came down the stairs until he slid behind Maya, wrapping his arms around her. “There’s plenty o’ room in the longboat. I think it’s just what ya need, spitfire.”
The man’s voice carried a determination that put her on guard. Hell, was Dink taking heed-me-or-else lessons from his captain? “Dink, I don’t know…”
“Well, I do. ’Tis a beautiful little island. Why, Maya feels right at home there, right, lovey? Lots o’ birds ‘n’ trees, flowers like the Queen’s own jewels, waterfalls ‘n’—”
“Waterfalls?”
Golden perked an eyebrow. How lovely a long soak beneath a cascading waterfall sounded. She’d indulged in such cool showers every day on Saint Kitts; now the grime and sweat that had caked her since New Providence had begun to feel heavy as her continuing mindset.
Dinky smirked, again looking much too intentional about it. She wondered if her sister and he hadn’t planned this “spur of the moment” offer in advance. She decided she didn’t care, especially when Dink added, “Know a very private cove I can direct ya to. Nice little bathin’ pool at the bottom o’ the falls. Some tantalizin’ berry trees there, too, if I remem—”
“Dinky,” she cut in.
“Hrrmm?”
“Save your lungs for satisfying my sister.”
The man chuckled. “I’ll tell Rico to clear another space in the longboat.”
As she slid behind the dressing screen to prepare, she assured herself this was a good decision. Maybe she needed to get away from the ship for a while. And as much as it panged to admit it…from Mast.
Two hours later, she closed her eyes in bliss while breathing in the invigorating mix of sea salt, island flowers, and rich Caribbean earth. She opened them to watch a hummingbird flit by, suck the sweet tune from a trumpeting hibiscus bloom, then continue on its way. She smiled as she plucked the vibrant red flower and inserted it behind her ear.
Dinky had been right. This was just what her battered soul had needed. Listening to the call of a bananaquit blend with the wind through the Caribbean pines, she once again felt truly at home.
The tunnel of bougainvillea was just where Dinky said it would be. Beyond that, she followed her own ears toward the waterfall’s song. A few minutes later, she parted a curtain of thick ferns, and entered one of the most resplendent places she’d ever been.
Where there weren’t deep-green ferns or trees, there were hundreds of flowers, like a painting where the artist couldn’t decide which color to use, so splattered them all, instead. The waterfall was a brilliant blue streak down the middle of the glade, its bottom an enticing froth of white bubbles.
She laughed in delight while padding across a bank of velvet-soft grass. “Remind me to listen to you more often, Dinky.”
After skirting under an overhang of Spanish moss and passing an adorable family of raccoons, she stepped out on a shelf of flat rocks that hung a few feet over the water. Congratulating herself on her decision to dress simply, she quickly tossed aside her shoes, stockings, and light cotton skirt. As she walked to the edge of the shelf, she started to pull off her chemise.
She jerked the strap back onto her shoulder when h
er gaze hit the water.
A dark shape glided from beneath the waterfall with fluid, powerful motion. The form had long bronze arms…and long bronze legs. A torrent of black hair made a gleaming V between chiseled shoulder blades as they rose out of the water. A scraped-up hand wiped the water from a strong, impossibly breathtaking face that turned toward her.
Mast froze as his stare met hers.
Chapter Nineteen
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Instinct drove her chin up despite the nerve-stopping sight of his chest, droplets shimmering through the thick black hair and down the ridge of his stomach muscles. But Mast’s harsh demand had set her indignation to burning, and she’d be trampled by a boar if she let him dilute it.
“Don’t look at me like that. I was about to ask you the same question.”
He seemed to consider that, then glanced away. “Dink promised me he’d keep you on the ship,” he said as if noting a scuff in his boot.
“He promised me you were sleeping the afternoon away.” She added meaningfully, “It was easy to believe him.”
He huffed resignedly. “I suppose we’ve been set up.”
“I suppose so.”
The following silence was the emptiest of her life, even with the patter of the waterfall and the twittering of the birds.
Finally, she blurted, “Am I so hard to be set up with?”
“What are you talking about?’ he snapped.
“You won’t even look at me.”
“Golden—”
“That’s the most you’ve said to me in two days.” Her throat caught on the unexpected surge of emotion. “You were a stone wall when I first stepped foot on the Athena. Block by block, we tore it down, Mast. Together. Now you’re a bloody Roman fortress again, and I—I don’t know how to get through.”
His stare entwined with hers again. For a glistening, shining instant, her hope flared.
But only for that instant.
She’d only inhaled once when he turned from her again, growling with low intent. “None of this has been any easier for me, hellion.”
She released a caustic laugh. “Really? I didn’t hear you sinking to the boards outside my door, begging for even a few paltry minutes to decently explain ourselves to each—”
“Enough!” He cut her off with a violent downstroke, his tight-veined forearm slicing water across her feet. “Damn you, Golden. It’s just not that square-sliced simple for me. There are circumstances I’ve had to think long and hard about; feelings I can’t wrap up in a bow and present to you over afternoon tea. I just can’t. I just won’t.”
“W-Well,” she stammered. “I just resent it.”
His silence felt too thick. And much too calm. The next instant, she knew why. She had enough time to release an astonished cry before his tug at her leg brought her down into the water. As soon as she surfaced, he was there again, gritting in her face.
“You want to talk about resentment? All right, let’s talk. Let’s talk about people who share their body with a person one night then don’t have the guts to share their trust the next day. Let’s talk about assumptions. Let’s discuss convictions before the trial, and about guilt without a chance to prove innocence.”
“Proof?” she sputtered, her anger split between the evidence he still hadn’t explained, and his sudden tyranny of this whole encounter. “I think I had all the proof I needed in that hold, Stafford!”
“I didn’t hold that back from you on purpose.”
“No?”
“I was bound to a promise, goddamn it.”
“To whom, pray tell? The devil?”
Nothing but the wind and the water answered her for a long moment. In that pause, Mast’s face transformed before her eyes. The heavy frown receded. His straight lips attempted a wry curl.
He finally stated, “Aye, your father can be a demon sometimes.”
Golden swallowed. “So I guessed correctly. You do know Papa.”
“I know Papa.”
“And Uncle George confined him to Abaco,” she filled in with dawning realization, “so he sent you for the things that I found in the hold.” She watched Mast nod, sensing his second meaning in the movement. “And me.”
He gentled his hold, using only the pads of his fingers to prod her closer. “And you.”
As wonderful as his body felt, the revelation opened up a new slew of questions. She pressed her hands to his shoulders while searching his face. “Why didn’t you tell me that to begin with? Why the French army disguise, and the stories? Why didn’t you just tell me you were Papa’s friend?”
“Because two countries are at war, hellion, and it’s an ugly one. The rule of these islands is at stake. ‘He who returns home with the most prizes wins,’ goes the saying. And your father, as cantankerous a bear as he may be, would be an impressive ‘prize’ for the French.”
He lowered his hands to her waist, making soft circles through her wet chemise. “So he asked me to make some promises and keep some secrets. And I did, because I trust him. It works like that between people who care for each other.”
He wiped a strand of hair off her cheek. Golden shivered at the caress, but softly smiled. “I suppose I didn’t make things any easier.”
His lips quirked. “You made things hell.” He slid his hand to her nape as his night-smooth voice became a husky murmur. “Especially after I kissed you.” Her spine got the attention of his hold then, his fingers lining up her body against his. “Especially after you turned my high-and-mighty propriety upside down with your snarls, and wrung my heart inside out with your passion.” He inhaled shakily. “And aye, especially after you’d made me fall in love with you.”
Golden blinked. “Wh-What?”
“Aye, sweeting. I love you, too. I think I have for a while now.”
“Mast—”
“Stop. I know the one question you have left. And I know it’s why you fled the ship that day. Ramses showed me the way you left the flag in the hold.” He gripped her tighter, dipping his head to ensure she looked directly into his eyes. “I didn’t kill your parents, Golden.”
“I know.” She nodded hard, yearning for him to believe her. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. It was so easy to fall into the old hate—”
“I know,” he echoed. “But it’s all right, because I’m going to find out who did kill them. I can’t promise you much more at this time, but I make that single promise to you with every breath in my body. Do you trust me enough to believe that?”
She nodded again, and joined a smile to it. “Yes.”
A smile spread across his lips, too. The joy in his face rivaled the waterfall in its power. He braced her hips harder before swooping her out of the water, suspending her above him as she shrieked in delight. “I love you!”
“I love you, too!” she giggled back.
A pleasured growl emanated from him. “Louder,” he commanded. “Say it louder.”
“I love you!”
“Louder, hellion!”
“I love you, I love you, I love you!”
She threw her head back, crying it into the treetops. He let her slip down then, every inch of her body gliding along his until he captured her mouth beneath his.
“My hellion has become an angel today,” he said along her neck. “Good God, the way this chemise looks…” He suckled her ear. “The way you feel…” He palmed her breasts. “The way you make me feel…”
She whimpered as he kissed her again, unfurling a passion she’d never seen in him before. Before they were done, he hooked fingers to her chemise straps and began tugging the thin material down her body. When her breasts were bared for him, a feral hiss left his lips.
“Yessss.”
He brushed her nipples with his thumbs. The undersides of her breasts dipped just below the water’s surface. The combination of the cool lagoon and his heated touch made her shiver and ache with exquisite awareness.
“Mast,” she pleaded, feeling the familiar
, tight ache in her womb, “Please.” She urged him forward, yearning for his lips on her again.
But he resisted her with a maddening strength. Golden watched as he made a cup of his hands to scoop water, pour it over one breast, then the other. He let his fingers follow the rivulets that played over her flesh, circling each nipple, gently pinching the trembling tips until they stood erect with desire.
Golden trembled. She could take the torture no longer. She cast Mast’s hands aside while pressing full against him, burying her nipples in his rugged chest hair. She stole the groan at his lips with the hungry demand of her own, running her hands down his back to his buttocks then his hips. At last, she moved her touch to the broad, full evidence of his passion. She circled her eager fingers around his hard, huge length, kneading it with naughty abandon.
“Christ,” he gasped against her mouth. “Golden, what you do to me!”
“Show me.”
With a heavy chuckle, he did. His arms coiled, muscles glistening in the sun as he pulled her legs around him. He entered her there in the water, impaling her deep, growling his possession with every long lunge.
“Naughty water nymph,” he teased. “Shall I punish you with a long, hard fuck?”
Golden smiled against his mouth. “Oh, I think you should.”
He sank his teeth into her lip. “Are you ordering me or begging me?”
“Never ordering,” she countered. “Not me, Captain.”
“Then beg me properly.” He clawed her buttocks with his fingernails. “Use the proper words, nymph.”
As her eyes slid shut, the words flowed free. “Fuck me, Captain. Use your long, pulsing sword, and drive it into me deep. I need it. I need you. Please!”
He took her to ecstasy over and over again in their wet and wild haven, the sun making stars of the water beads across her body, his thrusts making stars out of the tears in her eyes, until they finally climbed out of the lagoon, exhausted and prune-fingered.
After a little rest, they fed each other berries until Golden sucked one suggestively out of Mast’s palm. His gaze immediately darkened before he forced her back to the grass, where he shoved her legs apart and gazed at her with long, lusting pleasure.
