Taken by You

by Connie Mason

  Morgan lavished tender care on Luca’s nipples, loving the way she moaned and arched against him. He raised his head from his succulent feast, watching her face intently.

  “I love your nipples.” His voice was raspy, his desire rampant against her. “All plump and rosy, just begging for my attention. You’re exquisite, Luca, I couldn’t ask for a better mistress.” He thrust deeper, withdrew, in and out Sweat dripped from his face onto her breasts. “Now, sweetheart, now!”

  Luca barely heard his words. She was already reaching for that high plateau of pleasure only Morgan could give her. She was convinced that no other man had the power to raise her to such aweinspiring heights. Somewhere along the way her traitorous body had betrayed her high ideals. Her sins compounded each time she lay in his arms, reveling in his lovemaking. The day would arrive, she knew, when she must repent her sins. And face the fact that Morgan was merely using her. He was a sensual, lusty pirate who took women when it suited him and discarded them just as easily, as he had discarded Rouge.

  Suddenly Luca’s thoughts scattered as Morgan’s hips pumped vigorously, sending her over the edge. She clutched his shoulders and screamed, her body shuddering as wave after wave of pure bliss washed over her. When Morgan had wrung from her all she had to give, he raced toward his own climax, releasing his seed in a violent rush toward ecstasy.

  Several minutes passed before Morgan eased himself to Luca’s side. He didn’t speak; he couldn’t. As always, making love to Luca affected him in Ways that alarmed him. He could recall no time since reaching adulthood that a woman had such an impact upon his life. Yet even as he listed the many ways in which Luca inspired and aroused him, he knew she would be leaving soon. Stan Crawford would return with the ransom, and he would send Luca on her way. No matter how many oceans separated them, he’d never forget the Spanish woman who aspired to sainthood but settled for paradise.

  Luca felt Morgan withdraw from her and turn away. She felt his rejection keenly. She was astute enough to realize that he wanted her physically while utterly rejecting who and what she was. Nothing could change her Spanish heritage, or the fact that she was her father’s daughter. She chose not to break the tenuous peace between them, so she turned her face to the wall and gave herself up to sleep. Sometime during the night Morgan pulled her naked body into his arms, holding her close, as if he feared she would be torn from him.

  The Santa Maria sailed into the cove under the cover of a moonless night. Andros lay sleeping and secure. No one stirred on the beach. The ship anchored a short distance from shore, and two longboats were launched by a landing party of armed men. Arturo and Cordero led the party ashore, the oars slipping noiselessly through the water. They beached the boats and pulled them into the protection of brush and trees.

  Arturo led half the men in one direction while the rest followed Cordero in another. Since little was known about Andros, each group was to search for El Diablo’s lair. The Spaniards found no ships in the small cove, which could be either a good or a bad omen. It could mean that El Diablo was no longer on the island, which was bad if Luca was with him. If they were lucky it meant that El Diablo had dispatched his ship without himself at the helm and was sleeping soundly in his house. Finding the beach unguarded puzzled the brothers, but it did not stop them from pushing forward into the interior of the island.

  Arturo was the one who found the path leading through the trees. He led his men quietly through the murky night and was rewarded when a rambling house loomed before them in a clearing. No guards were visible, and Arturo thought El Diablo stupid for not protecting himself against invasion. But then, how could he nave known that the Santiegos would invade his island to retrieve what had been stolen from them? Andros was off the beaten path and rarely visited by ships.

  Arturo found the door unlocked and motioned his men inside, scoffing anew at such carelessness. Slowly he negotiated the stairs, his men close on his heels. They were very quiet, very careful. A branch of candles that Lani habitually placed on a table at the top of the stairs each night lit their way. Arturo opened the first door he came to and looked inside. The hinge squeaked, and he froze. The room was empty and he moved on.

  Arturo cracked open a door further down the hall and peered inside. He saw a shadowy figure in the bed and slammed the door open with a resounding bang. One of his men had removed the branch of candles from the hall table and now thrust it into the room, providing enough light to see two naked bodies intimately entwined on the bed.

  “Bastard! Rapacious bastard! You will pay for dishonoring my sister!”

  Morgan jerked upright. It took a moment for his head to clear, and when it did he cursed himself for a fool. He reached for his sword, which he never left far from his side, but it was too late. More men than he could count were on him instantly.

  Luca screamed and tried to pull the sheet up to her chin. She could see the intruders leering at her, and panic seized her. Had the island been invaded by brutal pirates or unfriendly natives? She gasped in recognition when she saw her brother, and she guessed that he had been sent to rescue her.

  “Cover yourself,” Arturo snarled, sending Luca a virulent scowl. “What has happened to my innocent sister?”

  Then everything happened so quickly that Luca barely had time to think, let alone speak. Arturo’s men charged Morgan, and Arturo dragged her from the bed at the same time. She watched in growing horror as Morgan was pummeled and beaten unconscious.

  “Take him to the ship,” Arturo ordered his men. Then he turned his attention to Luca. “Where are your clothes?”

  “There’s a trunk in my room.” She pointed to a room down the hallway. “What are you going to do to Morgan?”

  “You won’t have to worry about him hurting you again,” Arturo said curtly. “He’ll be safe enough chained in the hold until we reach Havana. El Diablo has corrupted his last woman.”

  “Havana!” Luca looked stunned. “Why are we going to Havana? I wish to return to the convent.”

  “That is out of the question. You’re to be taken to your intended.” He glared at her through narrowed lids. “What in the hell did you do to your hair?”

  “I cut it. But forget that. You know as well as I that Don Diego won’t have me now.” She had expected to feel crushing shame for the sin she had committed with Morgan, but to her surprise she did hot. “You found me in Morgan’s bed. Don Diego will spurn me, he’s a proud man.”

  “You did not go willingly to the pirate’s bed,” Arturo said craftily. His expression turned grim when he realized what must be done to save his sister’s reputation. He and Cordero had already discussed what would happen if El Diablo had indeed ravished their sister. “Don Diego will take into account that you are a widow and accept you along with a generous addition to your dowry.”

  “A widow? I… I don’t understand.”

  “There is no time now for explanations. Get dressed. We must return to the ship before we are discovered.”

  “Leave Morgan on Andros,” Luca begged. “You have me, there is no need for further bloodshed.”

  “Leave El Diablo behind? Are you mad? Cordero will have my head. There is a hefty reward out for the pirate. He has defiled you, an innocent young girl on her way to her bridegroom. El Diablo will die for his many counts of piracy against Spain. I’m sure Don Diego will make it a slow, painful death.”

  He dragged her to her room and pushed her inside. “Hurry and dress. I will wait right here for you. One of my men will carry your trunk aboard the Santa Maria when you’re finished.”

  Morgan came to his senses slowly, aware of his aching head and bruised body. Santiego’s men had beaten him senseless then dragged him naked to the ship, where he was chained to the bulkhead in the dank, musty hold. It was dark, he could hear rats scurrying about and felt them brush against his bare legs. He kicked out, cursing viciously when one of the rodents sank sharp little teeth into his ankle. His only consolation was that Luca wasn’t suffering. Her brother would never harm
her.

  Not for the first time Morgan cursed his carelessness. He had been so besotted with Luca that he had never considered the possibility that Santiego would send his sons to invade his stronghold on Andros. Before he had passed out he had heard someone say that the caskets containing Luca’s dowry had been located in a storeroom and were being transferred to the galleon. He didn’t care about the plunder, they could have that. What really hurt was losing Luca before he’d had a chance to tell her …Too late. Too damn late.

  While Morgan bemoaned his fate, Luca sat in the captain’s spacious cabin with her head bowed as her two brothers roundly castigated her. A priest, sent along to counsel Luca after her rescue, stood nearby, his expression as disapproving as Luca’s brothers’. All three considered her behavior with the infamous pirate outrageously wanton.

  “How could you beg mercy for the bastard after what he’s done to you?” Arturo raged.

  “He did force you, didn’t he?” Cordero questioned more reasonably.

  “At first… not exactly… it was more like… seduction”

  “You went willingly to his bed?” Arturo thundered. “Are you telling me that you were the willing mistress of El Diablo?”

  “Not exactly,” Luca hedged. “Not at first, anyway. I begged him to send me back home. I even pretended that I was a nun, but in the end Morgan had his way.”

  “You should have killed yourself,” the priest said sternly, stepping forward into the circle of light. “But what is done cannot be changed. We must rectify this terrible wrong immediately.”

  Luca raised her eyes, looking directly at the priest. “I did not wish to die by my own hand. As you say, what’s done is done. Unfortunately nothing short of a miracle can change what has already happened. If the convent will have me, I will devote what remains of my life to God.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Luca,” Cordero assured her. “The scoundrel seduced you, and we will see that he does right by you before he dies. You have been promised to Don Diego, and Father’s honor is at stake. Arturo and I will take steps to make certain Don Diego doesn’t look elsewhere for a bride.”

  Luca’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. How can you make things right? Nothing is the same. Don Diego expects an innocent bride.”

  Cordero and his brother exchanged knowing glances. “Don Diego’s pride will be restored when he learns he is wedding a widow instead of a dishonored virgin. Widows remarry all the time.”

  “But I’m not a widow. Don Diego wouldn’t believe such an outrageous lie.”

  “Ah, my dear sister,” Cordero informed her, “you will indeed be a widow after you are married to El Diablo and he is put to death for his vicious acts of piracy on the high seas. A very wealthy widow, at that.”

  Luca’s mouth flew open. “That’s ridiculous! Morgan will never agree to that. Nor will L”

  The priest stepped forward. “You are distraught, my child. It distresses me that you have been duped by the pirate to become his mistress. Your family won’t be satisfied until his sin against you is avenged. A marriage between you and El Diablo is the only way to make this thing right. Once the pirate is put to death you can get on with your life. You will be a respectable widow. A rich one. Don Diego will be pleased.”

  “We don’t need your compliance, Luca,” Arturo warned. “Father Ricardo will marry you and the pirate no matter how much either of you protests. He will do it because it is what God would want”

  Father Ricardo nodded sagely.

  Cordero walked to the door, opened it, and called to a sailor working nearby on the rigging. Cordero removed a key from his pocket and tossed it to the fellow. “Bring the pirate topside, Julio. Give him something to wear—we don’t want him offending his bride on his wedding day.”

  “Dios.” Luca’s plea ended on a sob. “If I agree to marry him, will you spare his life?”

  “Then you wouldn’t be a widow, would you?” Cordero said. “Fear not, sister, we wouldn’t kill our own brother-in-law. We will leave that unpleasant chore to Don Diego. Father will be pleased with the way we’ve handled things.”

  The brothers were very similar in looks. Both darkly handsome with slim bodies and elegant features. Arturo, the younger and more explosive in nature, was somewhat more muscular than Cordero, the more levelheaded of the pair. Luca loved them both dearly, but right now she could have gladly wrung their necks.

  Morgan kicked out ferociously when one of his furry companions boldly attacked. He pulled at the chains binding him, cursing his captors and all Spaniards in general. In all the years since he’d escaped his forced slavery, he’d never imagined himself a captive a second time. He. swore that if he ever got himself out of this predicament it would never happen again.

  Morgan tensed, suddenly aware that someone was approaching from above. A dim light appeared through the grill at the top of the ladder, He heard a grating sound, then a man popped into view. The dark-skinned sailor stared at Morgan, his contempt palpable.

  “You are no longer pretty, El Diablo,” Julio said in rapid Spanish.

  “I never was,” Morgan replied in the same language.

  Startled, the sailor sent Morgan an appraising glance. “I see you speak our language. It is good that you will be able, to participate fully in the marriage ceremony held in your honor.”

  He moved cautiously to the bulkhead, releasing Morgan’s chains from where they had been attached to an iron ring. Then he stepped back, holding his sword at the ready.

  A few moments later a second sailor started down the ladder, carrying a bundle under his arm. “Are you down there, Julio?”

  “About time, Matteo. Give the captain the clothes. It wouldn’t be proper to attend a wedding dressed inappropriately.” Matteo proceeded down the ladder and offered Morgan the clothing on the outstretched tip of his sword.

  Morgan hesitated only a moment before accepting the tattered pair of trousers and threadbare shirt. He stared at them a moment, then he shrugged, nodding toward his chained ankles and wrists. “Remove the chains.”

  “First the leg irons,” Matteo advised. “I do not trust the bastard.”

  Julio approached Morgan gingerly. “Keep the sword at his throat, Matteo. He is one dangerous hombre.” When Julio reached Morgan, he bent and unlocked the leg irons. “There,” he said, stepping back, “you may put on the trousers now.”

  Morgan stepped into the soiled, ill-fitting canvas trousers and tied the strings together at his waist. When he was done, Julio reattached the leg irons and unlocked the chains at his wrists.

  “Now the shirt,” Julio said, prodding Morgan with the tip of his sword. “And do not try anything courageous. We are well out to sea; there is no escape.”

  Morgan shrugged into the shirt. It was loose and flowing and fit his muscular build without splitting the seams. When he was dressed Julio clasped the irons on his wrists and prodded him up the ladder.

  “Your presence is required in the captain’s cabin, pirate,” Julio smirked. “A woman cannot become a widow until she is properly wed and her husband departs this world for the next.” By now everyone on the ship knew what the Santiegos were planning for El Diablo.

  Morgan shuffled stiffly up the ladder, his bruised body protesting the brutal treatment he had suffered. Hampered by the chains, his dragging steps were slow and measured. When he reached the deck he blinked repeatedly, nearly blinded by the bright light Morning had arrived while Morgan had lain unconscious in the hold, and with it came the knowledge that he was on a ship bound for God only knew where.

  Morgan was pushed roughly across the deck and into the captain’s cabin. He stumbled on his fetters then fell flat on his face. He raised his head and saw Luca. She looked haggard, sad and exhausted.

  “What have you done to Luca?” he asked harshly.

  Arturo lunged for Morgan, but Cordero held him back. “We have done nothing to our sister. It is you who have done her injury. You raped her. She was innocent until you abducted her and made her
your mistress.”

  Morgan’s gaze settled disconcertingly on Luca. “Did she say I raped her?”

  “There was no need. She was found in your bed,” Arturo answered. “You will pay with your life, Captain. But first you will make amends to our sister. Get up!”

  Luca’s heart went out to Morgan, feeling keenly his anger and confusion. She wanted to reach out to him, to help him to his feet, but she didn’t dare. Any move she made toward him now would only further antagonize her brothers. Later, after she went through with this forced marriage and their tempers cooled, she’d try to find a way to free Morgan before they turned him over to Don Diego. The thought of his death made her physically ill.

  Morgan raised himself painfully to. his feet, his face set in grim lines. “What do you want of me? It would take a miracle to restore Luca’s innocence.”

  Arturo lunged at Morgan again, but Cordero stepped between them. “You will marry my sister, Captain,” Cordero informed him coolly. “Father Ricardo is willing to perform the ceremony.”

  Shocked, Morgan’s gaze flew to Luca. “Marry? You want me to marry your sister? Bloody Hell!”

  “You will be married immediately, Captain,” Cordero continued smoothly. “But fear not, the wedding will be of short duration. And there will be no honeymoon. Fortunately for Luca, your execution in Havana will leave her a widow so she and Don Diego can marry as originally planned. But not before you have made out a will leaving all your worldly goods to your bereaved widow. It is rumored that you are enormously wealthy.”

  “If I am to be executed, why bother with a wedding at all?” Morgan asked evenly.

  “You have dishonored our sister. Santiego pride demands that you right the wrong done to her. Widowhood will suit her, I think. Don Diego’s honor will be assuaged, and all will be as it should be.”

  Morgan sent Luca a contemptuous look. “I’ll admit she wears black well. What if I don’t agree to a marriage?”

  “You will agree, for you have no choice,” Arturo threatened, clenching his fists beneath Morgan’s nose. “I know you care little for Luca’s welfare, but she deserves happiness. Widowhood is much more palatable than admitting she was a man’s whore.”