Minutes passed in silence, and then she turned toward the trees and whispered out of the side of her mouth, “Then perhaps we should each admit to needing each other more than we each think we do. A truce?”
Before he could answer, British soldiers swarmed the jungle-lined pathway as well as the beaches below. They were surrounded in seconds. Hesitant, he put his hands in the air, and his men followed suit. Jewel and her men remained unsurprised. He’d been duped.
“A truce, eh?”
“Keep your mouth shut, Whitton, and you might live to see tomorrow.”
Rage barreled through his body and clenched his hands into tight fists. He imagined her little neck in them and almost smiled. “You betrayed me.”
She faced him. “Isn’t that what you expected of a woman?”
“As a matter of fact, it is,” he bit out. “But for once, you took me completely by surprise. You should give yourself credit, Derington, you’re an excellent actress.”
The crowd of redcoats parted to reveal Commander Blythe in full British regalia. I should have known! The man pulled at the sleeves of the blue naval officer uniform. “Whitton, so good to see you again.”
“Wish I could say the same, Commander.”
Blythe gave a tight smile. “I did warn you, Whitton. If I remember correctly, you didn’t heed my advice.”
“Determined to have your way, Blythe, just as I expected any three-year-old would do. Will you stomp your feet and scream when you don’t get your way next?”
The commander laughed. “If it’ll get me what I desire, absolutely,” he said. “As you can see, there is nowhere to run and absolutely no chance of you talking your way out of this one. You’re caught — red-handed — so to speak. But perhaps we can come to terms and make some kind of arrangement.”
“Such as?”
“I always get what I want, Whitton. One way or another. I’ll be more than happy to drop all charges, but only if you reconsider my original offer.”
“Just couldn’t stand to have someone turn you down? Is that what this is all about?”
Commander Blythe’s lip lifted a fraction. “What’s your answer, Whitton? Do you prefer prison to being a traitor now?”
Rand had no choice. And no way out. He held out his wrists in a silent answer. Blythe chuckled. “Playing the hero to the very end? We’ll see how heroic you feel the closer we get to England.”
Blythe faced Jewel. “You held your end of the bargain well, Miss Derington. I’m quite impressed.”
“Now you hold your end of the bargain. Release my father.”
The commander chuckled. “All in good time. All in good time.”
Jewel ground her jaw in frustration. “I’m through waiting, Blythe. You said to bring the captain here so you could arrest him. He’s here, now be so kind as to return my father to me and we’ll be on our way.”
Ice entered the commander’s blue gaze. “Do not antagonize me, Miss Derington. I will deal with you shortly. Until then kindly remain silent.”
Tension mounted in miniscule degrees. Glancing towards his ship, Rand groaned when the frigate the HMS Gallant sailed into the mouth of the cove. Rand cursed a blue streak and Blythe laughed. The commander nodded, and a soldier moved forward with a rattle of chains.
“You were right, Whitton,” Jewel said, withdrawing both of her pistols. “I’m an excellent actress as well as an excellent shot.”
~ 3 ~
Jewel raised her dual pistols and blasted through Captain Whitton’s two closest armed guards. Blood splattered across the commander’s shocked features. Randall Whitton plowed a fist into Blythe’s face, and the commander dropped like a sack of grain. Tossing the pistols, she shoved the captain down the short embankment, raised her lady’s boxlock pistol, and fired another shot before sliding down the embankment behind him.
“Get up and run!” she yelled, seizing his hand as the return fire peppered the ground at their feet. They raced deeper into the palm trees.
Volcanic cannon fire exploded from the ships in the harbor, splitting the silence of the jungle and launching the tropical birds into a frenzy of screeches and chatter. Pistol balls pelted and pinged into the trunks of the banana trees. She ducked with a gasp. That was too close.
Shouts split the silence as the soldiers gave chase. Seconds later, the two of them stumbled into a clearing as a river rushed past them in a roar of powerful currents.
Jewel rushed to the canoe she’d placed there the day before. “Help me!” Together Jewel and Captain Whitton pushed the vessel into the water and climbed in. Picking up the oars, they set to work.
“Did you plan this?” he asked.
“I always have an alternative plan, Whitton.”
She tried to fight against the current to get to the opposite side of the river, but it forced them downstream.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted. “Go with the current, not against it. We’ll get away faster.”
“We can’t!” She swung to face the captain.
“Why not?”
The roar of the current increased with deafening intensity. He stopped rowing. “What the devil is that sound?” His eyes widened with clarity, and she knew an answer wasn’t necessary. “A bloody waterfall? Are you insane?”
Bullets pinged against the side of the canoe as the soldiers materialized from the foliage. Both Jewel and the captain ducked into the hull of the tiny vessel. Rand gave a sharp bark of pain and cursed. “Blast it all!”
He grasped his arm as blood soaked into his shirt. They rowed faster, not having any other choice but to go forward. The waterfall thundered until it drowned out all other sound.
Jewel gasped and sucked air into her tight lungs. She hadn’t imagined this far ahead into their escape. Perhaps this would teach her not to be so rash.
She’d thought they could get in the canoe and paddle upstream a ways to the opposite side, which was obviously out of the question. Water sprayed her face as her heart pounded out of her chest. “Oh, my sweet lord,” she whispered. What had she gotten herself into now? “I can’t do this.” She scrambled back away from the front of the vessel at the captain’s feet.
His hands seized her shoulders. “Too late!” Whitton yelled. “Listen to me, Derington. When we go over, kick free of the canoe. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
“Say it!”
“I understand.”
He clasped her hand and gave it a comforting squeezed.
The river rumbled as they drew closer and closer. Her palms grew moist and her breath shallow. Tears scalded her eyes. Her crazy luck had finally deserted her, for there was no chance she’d make it through this one. “I don’t want to die.”
“We’re not dying today.”
Jewel prayed he was right and closed her eyes. Fear gripped her heart in a solid squeeze and refused to let go. The river swept her over and sucked the breath from her lungs, and for mere seconds she imagined they were hanging in suspense.
“Kick away!” the captain yelled at her.
She opened her eyes just as they plummeted over the edge, and she pushed away from the vessel. Plunging to the water below, she screamed just as the water filled her mouth and nose.
An invisible hand swept her along and carried her downstream. She struggled to surface, but a weighted hand kept pushing her lower into the water. Her lungs burned. Her hands and feet pumped fiercely. Just as exhaustion stole every last ounce of strength from her, the river released her from its watery grasp.
She broke through the surface with a gasp of air that filled her lungs, and then she collided into a large boulder. She cried out and clasped her head. Red liquid cascaded down her arm.
“Captain!”
Her gaze swept the area and met only the swirling mists behind her. The only sounds were the thunder of the waterfall. “Whitton!” Please, answer me. The wound on her temple throbbed and bled into her vision. Wiping away the blood with her sleeve, she forced back the panic threat
ening to overcome her.
Where was he? Had he drowned? Had she saved both their lives only to lose him to the jungle?
Seconds later, the captain surged to the surface just a few feet from her. He sucked air into his lungs. “Whitton!” She swam towards him. He faced her with a wide boyish smile.
“Damn! That was some ride, Derington.”
She laughed. “Maybe for you. But can we please not do that again?”
He chuckled and hauled her closer to him to plant a solid kiss on her lips. She gasped in surprise. Warmth blossomed in her cheeks when he broke away. “You’re wounded.”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“Well, we still need to have Doc take a look at it,” he said and urged her to swim to the shore.
Awareness of his every move suddenly descended between them like an invisible wall. She glanced towards him as they waded out of the water together. The fabric of his shirt clung to hard steely muscles and her mouth went dry. Sopping wet, she coughed trying to catch her breath. Rand shook his wet head and sent water droplets spraying in all directions. He certainly was handsome. “Come on, we’ve got to get to Turtle Bay.”
“Why?”
“Because if my crew managed to slip past that frigate, which I’m fairly certain they did because La Osidiana is the fastest ship in these waters, then they’ll meet us there.” He winked in her direction, causing her heart to do some silly flutter. “I always have an alternative plan, Derington.”
~*~
Captain Whitton whacked at the creeping jungle vines with the saber. Wet palm fronds smacked Jewel’s shoulders and face as he barreled through the tangled mess ahead of her. A jungle enclosed them, the canopy of mangrove, mahogany, and royal palms filtered the sunlight into tiny streams.
Their boots squished across the steamy, humid ground in cadence. Sweltering heat pilfered every shallow breath she took. He paused with a hand on the trunk of a tree. Exhaustion seemed to settle over him as he slowed, sucking air into his lungs.
“Here, let me have the sword,” she said. “I can help so you can rest.”
“I am not tired.”
She rolled her eyes. He continued to hack at the foliage. His breath wheezed in and out of his chest. With a shake of her head, she reached around him and attempted to seize the weapon from him. He refused to release it, and they ended up nose to nose, glaring at each other. “You’re trying my patience, Derington.”
“And you’re being extremely thick-headed, Captain. Now, you’ve been at this for hours. Let me take a turn. It doesn’t make you any less of a man to let me help.” She yanked at the saber and he finally released it, which in turn caused her to stumble backwards. She gasped before regaining her footing.
He chuckled.
She glared. “You arse.”
“Shrew.” He tossed up his hands in defeat. “Go ahead. We’ll see how long you last.”
Determined, she shoved past him and took up where he left off, hacking until the burn in her shoulders begged for a rest. She refused to admit defeat. Every now and then, the captain would chuckle, and her resolve would strengthen. Cuts and scrapes marred her forearms and hands. After what seemed like an eternity, she simply couldn’t raise her arm anymore. She swung the sword once more, but her tired fingers released the weapon and it embedded into the banana tree. “Oops.”
Rand sighed and strode up behind her as she attempted to yank the sword from the tree, to little avail. He gave a quick jerk to release it. Jewel snatched the saber from his hand and took up where she left off without a word.
“You’re welcome.”
Jewel ignored him. They broke through a clearing. The ledge dropped off into the ocean at least forty feet below, surrounded by jutting rocks and boulders. She slid to a halt and gasped as his arm threaded around her waist to keep her from plummeting over.
Her boot slid across the pebbled surface, right out from beneath her. She slipped through the circumference of his arms and landed on the edge of the cliff on her rear end, skimming right over the side. She screamed and reached for something to grab hold of.
The captain seized her beneath her arms. He dropped to his knees, his breath harsh in the silence. Dangling to and fro over the side, Jewel swallowed hard. Fear crawled into her throat, releasing in a short scream. “Whitton!”
“What damnit? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Please, don’t let go.”
“This is a fine time to distract me with conversation, don’t you think? Trust me and shut your trap for once.”
He hauled her back up against him. They perched there, barely on solid ground, with ragged breath and beating hearts, in each other’s arms.
Resting her forehead against his shoulder, Jewel marveled at the strength of it. The craziest urge to scramble into his arms assaulted her. She glanced up at him. His face was mere inches away. He paused, studying her features. “We’re almost there,” he whispered. His breath brushed her face.
Despite having heard him, she still uttered, “What?”
With a slight lift of the corner of his lips, his gaze dropped to her mouth. Awareness cascaded over her. Her breath grew shallow. Sweat beaded across his forehead, his inky-black hair mussed and falling rakishly across his brow. Dirt streaked his cheek, and yet, he was still the most striking man she’d ever seen before. Rugged—and yet, classically handsome at the same time—she could easily see this man under the lights on a ballroom floor, dressed resplendently in evening clothes, as well as on the deck of a ship.
Wedged between a cluster of coconut and banana trees, nestled in the arms of a smuggler, Jewel had actually never felt safer before. She imagined she should move out of his embrace. Instead she turned into him fully and one arm wrapped around his neck. Her boots scraped across the uneven ground as he cradled her inside the circumference of his arms.
Aware of the strength of his chest against hers, the tips of her breasts tingled with awareness. Every breath brushed them against his warmth, which in turn caused her to breathe more heavily, increasing the rate at which she was becoming aroused. He hadn’t made a sound yet, or a move, either towards her or away. And she waited — barely breathing — until he did.
He swooped in, capturing her mouth in a burning kiss. Whatever breath she’d had left, completely vanished. Her arms wrapped him up and pulled him closer. His hold tightened around her, and one hand guided her head where he wanted it. Pleasure ripped through her body and ravaged her senses. Randall Whitton excelled at kissing. There was no other way to describe it. She could kiss him all day.
He deepened the kiss, and she moaned softly. Tingles scattered across her flesh, her hands fisted in the neck of his shirt. He broke the kiss but not the embrace. When he continued to just stare at her, she frowned.
A bell clanged in the distance, and she whirled to face the cliff. La Obsidiana was sailing just offshore and they were very visible from where they stood. Heat scalded her cheeks as she glanced back at the captain.
“We’re saved.” He grinned and clasped her hand, pulling her to her feet. “There’s Turtle Bay just below this cliff. Let’s go,” he said, dragging her back through the trees.
She followed closely, uncertain of anything but the rush of adrenaline from his kiss. Confusion marred her brow. Randall Whitton had just returned the favor and saved her life, but had he just stolen something else instead?
~ 4 ~
La Obsidiana sailed out of Turtle Bay just as the first cannon blast exploded in the distance but dropped harmlessly out of range. It was a warning shot.
“Sail ho! It’s Blythe,” the lookout shouted. It hadn’t taken the bastard long to locate them.
Rand scuttled over the side of the ship and reached back to haul Jewel over the rail. He settled her onto the planks next to him and shook the water from his hair.
Taking a dip in Caribbean waters hadn’t been on his agenda today, but alas, the ship had been unable to sail close enough due to the reefs. Wet, hungry, and exhausted, Rand’s ir
ritation had peaked. Dealing with Blythe was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Full sails, O’Conner. Outrun these bilge rats. I’ve had a belly full of the commander for one day.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” said his quartermaster, and the Irishman relayed the orders to the crew. The seamen heaved on the halyards and scurried up the shrouds like monkeys fanning out in all directions. Wind caught canvas and the material ballooned with a whoosh.
Rand set a north-easterly heading, and as they steadily outdistanced the commander’s ship, he sighed. It wasn’t over though.
“Blythe will follow us,” Jewel said from behind him.
“I know.” He faced her. Her hair fanned out as the wind caught it. He itched to feel the hazelnut strands wrapped around him. Easing beside her, he leaned his forearms on the rail. “Are you afraid?”
She peered at him. “For us? No. For my father? Yes. Blythe will kill him for my betrayal.”
For saving Rand’s life. The words hung between them, although she didn’t say them. The weight of those words dropped right atop his shoulders.
Tears glistened in her eyes and his gut churned in response. He’d accused her of betrayal and yet, wouldn’t he have done exactly the same? “I’m sorry, Jewel,” he whispered, and yet those few words could never convey the guilt stirring inside him at this moment. She faced him. She was beautiful.
“I’m not blaming you, Whitton.”
He gave a wiry grin. “Call me Rand. After everything we’ve faced today, I think we’ve moved past last names, haven’t we?”
“Perhaps.”
“What happened to your father?”
“He had a shipping accident three years ago and is now confined to a wheelchair. A crate fell on him, paralyzing him. So now he takes care of the books and I manage the physical aspects.” She paused and clasped her hands tightly. “He’s all I have.”
Summons From the Castle, Regency Christmas Summons Collection 3 Page 8
