Wrong Kind of Paradise
Page 5
lieutenant commander tomorrow night. A girl...a prostitute, she works in the Red Garter. Her name is
Gretchen. She is supposed to drug his ‘ordship.”
Kidnap the commander? Charles’s superior officer? Did Angel plan to exchange him for her
father’s life?
Blac reached into his pocket and retrieved the small bag of coins. He handed them inside the door.
Jezel hesitated. “I take it you won’t be coming to me tonight?”
“Not this time, Jezel.”
A soft sigh sounded from the other side. “Aye, I wilz take the coin but you must promise to return to
me after this ‘es all over.”
Blac frowned. “I’m not sure I can promise anything, but I will try.”
Another sigh.
“All right zen, good luck with yer mission, Capi’tan.”
Blac strode down the alley onto Queen Street. He headed for the pier. Now that he knew Angel’s
plans, he had one of his own.
~*~
No one could duplicate what God had created, a temptress cast upon men from the sins of Eden.
Blac’s eyes took in the naked flesh a little too eagerly. He’d followed Angel back to the tiny inn on
High Street. It couldn’t house more than six rooms. She stayed on the second story, far left corner room.
He’d climbed the trellis without breaking his neck and stepped over the railing on the balcony to get a
better view.
The crickets chirped their melody in the night and masked the sound of his heavy feet on the
wrought-iron plates beneath him. Stars glimmered in brilliant profusion against the black blanket of night
and offered little light to reveal him.
He’d been lucky enough to catch her at her bath and unlucky enough to suffer the consequences of
watching her.
Firelight flickered off the walls and cast shadows of her lush curves across the walls as she stood
to her full height. Water sluiced over the sides of the tub to puddle onto the wooden planks. He
swallowed. Droplets trickled down her flat stomach and hips. Each bead of moisture slid against her
flesh and he imagined drying the moisture with his tongue.
Meager light from the fire gleamed against her skin. Long arms reached high to wring out her wet
hair, water droplets scattered, and a tempting line of the liquid coasted down so beautifully against the
sweet curve of her shoulder to her breast.
Heat engulfed every inch of his body. His attention could no longer focus on anything but the woman
on the other side of the windowpane. How had this one female tilted his entire being on its axis, and now
he sat here on this balcony staring at her like a lovesick fool? Blac couldn’t be sure if this opportunity
were a gift or curse.
Heaven or hell.
His breath fogged the glass as he leaned closer. A rush of adrenaline filled his blood. Anticipation
coursed a path through his veins. How could he not look forward to the outcome of this game they played?
The end neared and expectancy lingered in the air around him. His breath hushed, his heart pounded
inside his chest, and his palms moistened.
He had her finally, exactly where he wanted her. And for once, he wouldn’t rush in to claim the
prize. Instead, he would savor the victory.
She walked toward the window and dropped the towel she’d been holding. With only the glass
separating them, Blac traced her figure with a single digit.
A deep sense of satisfaction welled inside him. He’d won.
The prize would be one of the greatest he’d ever taken. A prize that was well worth the wait.
You’re mine. After all these years...heaven would be his in the arms of the Hell’s Angel.
~*~
Angel had never kidnapped a man before. Until tonight.
Exhilaration flowed through her veins and she couldn’t quite keep the grin from her face. She
peered around the corner and searched the alley. “All clear,” she mouthed to her men, and one by one,
they filtered past into the darkness.
Their plan was to kidnap the commander and trade him for her father. She didn’t know if it would
work, but it was worth a try. The prostitute had said the commander came every Friday evening to The
Red Garter to visit Gretchen. And this time, they would be there to greet him.
The group of them skulked through the shadows until they reached the last window on the building
to the left. She nodded, and Harry gave a soft birdcall. The window eased open and the brunette slipped
her head out. “Do I still git me gold?”
Angel grinned and held up a bag of Spanish doubloons. The coins jingled as she slipped the bag
back into her pocket.
The prostitute glanced over her shoulder. “Aye, well, he be snuffed out like a flame. C’mon up.”
Two of her newest crew members jostled each other. Bruno boxed their ears and the two stood at
attention. If they didn’t straighten up, they would all be caught and hung at Gallows Point. Harry had the
grace to blush.
Angel sighed. She must be mad for attempting a stunt like this.
Bruno stepped forward under the window and threaded his fingers together for her to slip her foot
into. Angel paused and held a hand up to his dark cheek. “Bruno, make me a promise, will you?”
He nodded, the light from an above window reflected off the dark, bald head. His chocolate brown
eyes narrowed. He shook his head, telling her with his eyes he didn’t want to hear it.
She frowned. “You have to promise me, whatever happens...” She bit her lip. “Get my father out of
that English prison. I don’t care about myself. Just keep him safe for me.”
He shook his head.
“Do it. It’s an order.” She dropped her hand.
Bruno frowned and dropped his gaze on a sigh. He nodded and then reformed his fingers so she
could climb up to the second story window.
She slipped her foot into his clasped hands and he lifted her. She grasped hold of the window ledge
and heaved herself up. Swinging one leg up, she pulled her body inside and flopped to the floor. So much
for grace.
Darkness encased the room. The only source of light poured from outside. It was too meager to do
her any good, creating shadows in every corner. Where was the commander? Where was Gretchen, and
why had she left before she’d taken her gold?
Tiny hairs prickled at the back of Angel’s neck and a chill raced along her spine. Harry sent a
birdcall up waiting for her response to let them know she was safe. She didn’t send it. For whatever
reason, something didn’t feel right.
Shadows danced along the walls and she studied each one. She waited with bated breath for
something to happen, some movement or sound to alert her to the sign of an intruder.
Awareness raced over her flesh. She grabbed the hilt of her sword and reached for her musket with
the other. Easing over into the dark corner out of the light, she moved along the wall. Watching the
shadows skip across the room, she felt the presence of someone watching her. She melted back into the
dark and held her breath.
Her heart pummeled her ribs and her palms grew moist.
The second birdcall drifted up from below.
A shuffling of movement sounded from the alleyway as her men prepared to come up. Then she saw
the commander lying in the middle of the ragged mattress in the opposite corner of the room asleep, and
she let out a deep sigh. She’d been searching for ghosts and ghouls wh
ere there were none.
Angel stepped forward to cross the room and bind the commander in ropes. A set of hands seized
her from the shadows, knocking the musket from her hand. Her stomach heaved. A hand clamped over her
mouth as an arm wrapped around her waist in a vise, dragging her against the large frame of a man.
She’d been duped.
She’d kill Gretchen for setting her up like this.
Her fingers clawed at the forearm, since her arms were pinned to her sides and movement was
limited. Damn. Her sword merely swung harmlessly back and forth as the odd position prevented her
from using it.
Was this where she would die?
A breath rushed across her ear. “Call them down, Angel.”
She relaxed. Her breath whooshed from her but her heart tripped in her chest. Blac. He’d come for
her. Somehow she’d known he would.
The hand eased the severe hold but didn’t move away. “I’m going to free your mouth, and I want
you to call to Bruno and let him know you’re safe. Understand?” The hand tightened once more. “My men
are scattered all over this room, the brothel, even in the streets. The four of you are outnumbered. It would
be a foolish mistake to resist. You’d hate to be the cause of their deaths, wouldn’t you?”
Would he really kill men he’d known for years? Could she really risk it? Bruno and her father’s
men were all she had left in life. She would never risk their lives.
Angel nodded. He released her mouth but not his hold around her waist. Instead the arm tightened,
and the length of him pressed against her backside, igniting a spark of heat. The strength of his body
scattered tingles along her skin. She tilted her head to the side to view him from the corner of her eye.
“You would kill the men you’ve known half your life, Captain Barclay?”
He stared down at her. “Yes, to prevent you from committing this foolish mistake. I would.” He
lowered his head to her shoulder and buried his face into her loosened hair. “I only do this for you, Angel.
And Logan.”
She stiffened at the mention of her father. “And yet, you were the one who came to arrest him.” She
frowned. “Do not whisper words of guilt and affection now.” She pulled from him, and he let her go.
Moving closer to the window, she let out a soft birdcall as her hand eased to her waistband, retrieving her
dagger.
Facing him, she found he’d followed close behind. They stood toe-to-toe. One of his large hands
reached up to caress her cheek. “Whatever happened that day or didn’t happen is over. We’re here now,
and I can’t let you go through with this foolish scheme.”
“You can’t stop me, Blac.”
“I already have, Miss De’haviland.”
“For now,” she agreed. “Always expect the unexpected, remember?”
She eased the tip of her dagger between the delicate skin of his thigh and testicle. Now she had his
attention.
He stiffened. “Oh, you are clever.”
“I learned from the best.” With one twitch of her wrist she got her point across.
Moonlight revealed the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. She increased the pressure between his
legs just to reinforce her determination. Could she really bluff her way out of this? Her father’s life
depended on it and now so did her own.
“You’re a wanted woman at this point, Angel. If you kill me, you’ll be a dead one. There will be no
place you can hide safely.”
“Oh really?”
“We both know how much the Queen adores me. The bounty on your head will be so high you won’t
even be able to trust your friends.”
“I’ve already learned that lesson quite well. And I should thank you for that, Barclay. You taught me
well in all my lessons in life.”
He gritted his teeth.
“Besides, the damage is already done. We both know that. We’ve made our choices, and
unfortunately, this time they don’t coincide.” She lifted the dagger to his throat. “I am no longer a naïve
child. I’ve grown up in more ways than one.”
“So it seems.” He lifted his chin. “There are consequences to our every action, Angel. Are you
willing to face those consequences?”
Uncertainty made her hesitate. “I’ll do what I must.”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Tell me, how do you think your father would feel
about this? Do you really believe he would condone your actions these last two years?”
His question stunned her, but she no more than blinked before he seized her wrist and propelled her
against the wall. Angel gasped. Blac’s grip tightened until she had no choice but to release the dagger. It
clanged against the bare wood floor.
Warmth from him radiated through her clothes as he pressed against her. He kissed her mouth, hard
and demanding. “Welcome to hell, Angel. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Angel blinked then gasped. Her jaw clamped in anger.
A lantern burned to life and three men emerged from the corners of the room. The commander lay on
the bed, trussed like a stuffed sausage with bound hands and feet. A white cotton gag covered his mouth.
Blood trickled down from a cut above his temple. He’d been knocked out cold.
Her eyes widened and someone shoved a gag into her opened mouth. Her hands were bound, and
then Blac tossed her over one shoulder like a sack of grain.
“Your first mistake was the day you stole my ship, the Serpent, and renamed it the Serpent's Lady.”
His tone indicated he didn’t like her choice of a name. She would have grinned if she hadn’t been gagged.
“Your second mistake was thinking you actually stood a chance against me. The student hasn’t, as yet,
become the master. Now it’s time for you to become acquainted with my new ship... The Serpent’s
Revenge.”
Five
The air crackled with energy. Grey clouds mixed and blended in a slow merging of power. A
misleading stirring of wind brushed Angel’s face. Despite the clear skies a storm brewed. The
atmosphere held intensity and a deceiving tranquility that would soon burst into a torrent of chaos.
And I’ll be ready for it.
A half hour had passed while her men had been rounded up by Blac’s crew. She’d been ushered
downstairs to the back alleyway and both hands were tied to a wrought iron rail. The slight movement of
air did little to alleviate the soured-back-alley-smell, and her stomach churned with nausea.
A wave of anger clenched her teeth. She couldn’t believe Blac had just left her here. And tied to the
rail like a common criminal.
Angel shifted on her feet and flexed the muscles in her aching shoulders. Her arms were tied in front
of her to allow a little comfort, but the tether allowed her very little moving room. She wiggled and
writhed, attempting to loosen the hemp enough to free her hands, but to no avail. Blac had simply tied
them too tight.
Why did he have to be so meticulous?
The tight alley was lined with A-framed brick buildings rising on either side of her like giant
decorated bird houses. Bright, vivid shutters fronted the buildings with carnival colors. Tiny flower
boxes crammed with pink, yellow, and orange blossoms perched on the bottom of each window.
This was the better part of Port Royal, although the lane was still filled with debris and trash. The
stench of waste and mold assaulted her.
cut the tether from the rail and slipped his dagger back into the sheath at his waistband.
“Go where?” she asked but he didn’t answer.
Wagon wheels rumbled down the alley and stopped before them. One of his men sat in the driver’s
seat, idly toying with the leather reins. He barely glanced at Angel as Blac lifted her into the seat.
Where were they going and where were her men?
Wind blew the hair off her shoulders and tossed it behind her, the first real sign of the storm they’d
seen all day. Blac looked up to the sky and frowned. He turned away to order the rest of his men to meet
them back at the ship. The docks were a good five blocks away.
The commander lay in the back of the wagon, still unconscious beneath the bed coverlet. His hands
were bound and his mouth gagged. If Blac continued down this route, he would become a pirate like
Angel and her father. Surely, he didn’t plan to go through with this.
She didn’t have time to worry about what Blac would or wouldn’t do. Whatever his intentions, she
didn’t trust him. He’d lost that privilege when he’d betrayed her family.
Angel balanced on the edge of the seat and smiled sweetly at the man beside her. Thunder cracked
above them and the crewman glanced up at the roiling sky. She swung her legs over in a solid kick to his
chest and forced him off the opposite side. The man landed in the dirt below with a thud. She caught the
reins and slapped them down, the wagon jerking forward at a break neck pace.
Someone shouted her name behind her and she turned. Blac chased her on foot. As large as his body
was, his speed impressed her.
Angel wheeled around the corner onto the main road and Blac followed. Her cloak billowed out
behind her as the contraption picked up speed. She laughed but she wasn’t out of the woods yet. She
unclasped her cloak and tossed it behind her, smacking Blac squarely in the face. A giggle escaped her.
He stopped, threw the garment down, and stared after her with a look that should’ve burned her to a
cinder.
Facing forward, she headed down Queen Street and turned onto a side street, losing sight of him.
The turn sent the wagon careening on two wheels and the commander’s body rolled out of the back. She