“I was just pondering the very same thing. I will need to gather supplies and the men to set sail...but where to go?” Juan’s face remained neutral as Olivia tried to discern what he might be thinking.
“Well, let’s say you didn’t unexpectedly get married on this stop, what was your plan before I was a factor?” Olivia asked logically.
“After taking your ship, we were heading to England to sell the sugar and other spoils,” Juan said somewhat sheepishly.
“So, perhaps that’s what we should do?” she coaxed. “I would hate to interrupt your enterprises.
“My life is no life for a high-born lady,” Juan said more to himself, realizing the words for the first time as he stated them.
“I would like to remind you that it’s our life now,” Olivia retorted. She thought for a moment and then continued, “And what if--now hear me out--what if you were to be hired as a privateer by my father to help protect his shipments? Clearly they are not secure on the high seas,” Olivia asked quietly.
Juan was turning the idea over in his head carefully, he just opened his mouth to respond when his nostrils caught the scent of burning wood from downwind. His eyes frantically shot past her down to the harbor. There he saw smoke beginning to fill the air and flames starting to shoot up from the Vengador Diablo.
“No,” he growled as he pulled Olivia along with him down to the harbor. Though he had nearly yanked off her arm, briskly dragging her down the winding road to the harbor, he knew it would be too late.
By the time they arrived, his entire ship was engulfed in flames. The anguished look in his eyes nearly broke Olivia. She knew that his ship had been everything to him, now he was forced to stand by and merely watch helplessly as it disappeared before his eyes. The sounds were heart-wrenching as she cracked and split. With every new piece that fell into the ocean, Juan’s jaw clenched. They stood in silence and watched as everything he had worked for crumbled before his eyes.
There were men scurrying all over the dock, yelling orders to one another trying to prevent the fire from spreading. The Diablo had been moored far enough from other ships that she was the only one engulfed in flames, however, her rope was attached to the dock. One of the men began to cut the rope to sever the only tie to the shore. With every stroke of the knife against the rope Juan felt the blade across his heart. The smoke was becoming thicker and the sound of the fire increased from the snapping and groaning of the wood. Olivia didn’t say a word, she just grasped Juan’s hand tightly.
It felt like time stood still and then Juan finally spoke, his voice quiet, “We may need a new plan.” He tried to smile, but Olivia could tell that it was a struggle. Juan observed the low tide and added, “Come with me, I’ve said my goodbyes,” he added pragmatically.
The shock was wearing off and a slight panic began to stir within Olivia. “Have you lost everything?” she asked gently, feeling stupid for asking the question before the words had even left her mouth.
To this, Juan responded with a smirk and kissed Olivia’s forehead, “Not everything, my love.” He made one more brief glance back at the remains of the Diablo and then took Olivia’s hand, “Come with me.”
He walked determinedly with her along the shoreline and eventually turned towards a copse adjacent to the ocean. She followed him silently using the sliver of moonlight and Juan’s solid frame to guide her footing. After what felt like miles through the wilderness, Olivia finally asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“Over here,” he said, taking both her hands and guiding her down a steep decline towards the shore. Olivia heard the sound of the crashing of the waves getting louder as they descended through the trees and brush. In the dim moonlight, Olivia saw the excitement on Juan’s face as he turned to her, “We’ve arrived.” He pulled her along through the last bit of brush and to the shore’s edge. Then, he went over the edge of the cliff and Olivia let out a gasp until she saw his hand reach back up for her. “Come here, my love; I won’t let you fall.”
She went to the edge of the cliff and leaned over just enough to see Juan standing on a very narrow ledge just beneath. He reached to her, holding her by the waist and eased her down to him. They hugged the cliffside as they made their way along the narrow path. Then, as a cloud drifted across the moon and the night sky darkened, Juan disappeared. Olivia was just about to call out to him when the cloud wafted past and Olivia saw that he had entered a small opening in the cliff. She followed him; her eyes were trying to adjust, as Juan grabbed a small torch from the side of the cave and lit it by using the flint and steel nestled beside it.
As the glow lit the enclosure, Olivia took in the dazzling effect. She attempted to speak, but merely gasped instead. Everywhere her eyes darted she saw sparkling, shimmering sights. Jewels hung out of the sides of small trunks stacked along the perimeter. There were glinting golden coins scattered across the ground. Stalactites wound through the riches, adding an otherworldly effect. Finally, her disbelief was outweighed by her curiosity, she managed to breathlessly mutter, “Juan, what on earth is this place?”
Juan grinned at her reaction, “My dear, this is my fortune...most of the wealth I have amassed over the years.”
Olivia stood frozen and gaped at the treasure trying to calculate how much it might all be worth. “Juan, what do you intend to do with all of this?”
“Well, my dear, currently I intend to purchase a new ship…” Juan trailed off a slight grimace crossing his handsome face. “Then, we should probably make the trip to Barbados and sort things out with your father?” he finished with a questioning eyebrow.
Olivia was surprised by his statement. She didn’t quite know how she felt about the idea. “Well, I understand that I can’t hide out from my father forever, but how do you intend to explain the situation to him? He’s not going to be pleased about my marriage...he was hoping to use me to acquire business connections with George. You’re many lovely things, my dear, but you don’t offer much for a father in search of business prospects--”
“Actually,” Juan cut her off, “I have given this some thought and I believe I could be a valuable asset to your father’s business. I can certainly recommend some improvements to his shipments and routes to ensure that his ships will not so easily fall prey to other pirates. Maybe I could run his shipments for him, as you suggested? More of a privateer than a pirate?” Juan looked at her with a boyish and almost hopeful expression.
She nodded with a smile, “Yes, that might work indeed. But, first, we must find you a replacement ship. Do you know of any for sale?” she asked, hoping he had some prospects.
Juan gave her a patronizing half-smile, “Pirates don’t often sell their ships--we’re more of a take than sell community.”
“But, you could do that to another man--take his ship?” Olivia responded incredulously.
Juan shrugged, “No, I plan to find a, eh, colleague who would benefit from my wealth in exchange for information about who might be responsible for the fate of my ship. And then I plan to relieve the responsible party of his ship.”
“Oh,” Olivia muttered as if this was the only logical solution. “I see. It must be pirate logic.”
Juan shook his head with a grin. Then, he motioned Olivia to the left. She moved and he bent over a trunk full of golden coins grabbing a few handfuls and placing them in his boots. Before he rose, he grabbed something out of the trunk adjacent and shifted to kneeling on one knee. He slid the gold band from her ring finger and placed it back in the trunk, holding a new ring in its place, “Your wedding ring, my wife. I thought of this ring because it is reminiscent of your eyes.”
He gently took her hand and placed a delicate ring on her finger. It radiated beauty, it had a large square sapphire in the center which was encircled with diamonds. At the top, left, right, and bottom there were additional diamonds that each came to a point. The sides were an intricate filigree and Olivia noticed the stunning refraction of light as Juan slid it down her finger.
“It’s
extraordinary,” Olivia breathed, not breaking from staring at her finger. It reminded her of a compass and she thought that fitting as it would always guide her home--to Juan. “Thank you,” she whispered, kneeling next to him and kissing him deeply.
“Nothing but the finest for my wife,” Juan said with a sardonic smile. He rose and helped Olivia to her feet. Then he fetched a large piece of canvas, which looked to be from an old sail, and laid it across a flat area of ground. He sat down and beckoned Olivia with an alluring finger. She slunk over to him and bit her lip as she hoisted her skirts enough to straddle his lap.
Juan pulled her towards him and kissed her urgently. His hands stroked up and down her sides and rested on her buttocks pulling her in tight to his body. Olivia could feel his need almost bursting through his breeches. His hardness contrasted with her softness. Her fingers worked skillfully to unlace his breeches and release his manhood. As he sprung free a relieved growl emanated from his lips.
Juan kissed her harder and his hands worked her skirts and underlayers out of his way. Finally, he felt her most intimate skin against his and broke from their kiss long enough to lift her and ease her down onto his rock-hard cock. She sighed with pleasure as she stretched around him, taking him in slowly inch by inch. He eased back and made eye contact with her, she was looking at him through thick eyelashes. She smiled and inhaled deeply as he carefully drove into her. Olivia bit her lip and then leaned forward up to his ear. She nipped at his earlobe as she said through a heady whisper, “Don’t be gentle.”
A brief smile flashed across Juan’s face as he nodded and then dug his fingers into her hips and thrust her forward into him. She moaned with rapture as he manipulated her back and forth with a primal urgency. Olivia felt as if she were straddling the precipice between pleasure and pain. She thought she might tear in two, but welcomed the sensation.
Both felt the tension beginning to rise. Both cried out in exquisite release and Olivia bit into Juan’s muscular shoulder as he emptied his seed. When he regained his ability to speak, Juan gave a throaty laugh, “You really are going to be the death of me, my love.”
“Well, then you’ll perish happily,” she retorted.
A bit later, when they both had had a chance to recover, she glanced around at her surroundings again, “This is hardly what I expected of my day when I awoke this morning, but it certainly has turned out brilliantly.” Then she caught herself, “Except for your ship, of course. I feel sick about that. Whomever do you think is responsible?” she inquired.
“I believe I have an inkling,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “It seems highly suspicious that the ship went up in flames as your acquaintance, Mr. Wainwright, and I played cards,” Juan proposed.
“Why, you don’t think George had anything to do with it?” Olivia said with surprise.
“Of course I do. Though I believe he is too much a coward to have done the deed himself, which is why he must have found someone to set the fire while we played,” Juan finished.
Olivia still held to her convictions, “But, what reason would George have--”
“You,” was the only word that Juan offered.
Suddenly, Olivia began to connect the dots and realized that Juan made a good point in that with Juan out of the picture, Olivia might be willing to return to the original plan of finding a suitable husband, mainly Mr. Wainwright. “Oh heavens, I believe I see what you mean.”
********
Juan and Olivia had collected what they needed and made the perilous journey back out from the cave. Juan adjusted his boots to make sure the coins were secure as they emerged from the brush. They walked on until they had returned to the main street of the port city. Juan tried to avert his eyes as they passed the harbor and the remains of his prized possession.
“I’m going to drop you at the inn, my love, while I procure a ship,” Juan stated, with a half-cocked grin. They walked up to the room Juan had arranged, and he opened the door and walked in with Olivia.
“Be careful,” she rose on her tiptoes and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I hope you find the information you need. Hurry back to me.” Olivia tried not to look too coy as she batted her long lashes at him.
“You’re all I need,” he said in a sultry voice that was tinged with the promises of things to come. “I won’t be gone long.” With that, Juan kissed her hard, slapped her ass, and grinned as he turned, closing the door behind him.
********
Olivia had just finished her evening ablutions and was brushing out her hair when there was a sharp knock at the door. She assumed it was Juan returning, anxious to get in the room and make love to her again. She went to the door and unbolted it--George Wainwright was standing on the other side. Olivia pulled her robe tightly over her nightgown and held it at the neck, “Mr. Wainwright? What can I help you with?” she asked, trying to decrease the opening of the door.
George wedged his foot through and pushed the door back into Olivia. She could smell the alcohol wafting from his mouth, “Well, Miss Clairmond, eh, my apologies--Mistress Larios--there are several things you can help me with...to start, let’s discuss how you have utterly dismantled my carefully laid plan. I spent years putting everything in place, and you managed to destroy all my work in a matter of weeks.”
“Mr. Wainwright, I'm sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” Olivia said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She took a cautious step backwards as she spoke.
“Don’t play the fool with me, Mistress. Ignorance does not become you,” George stated snottily. “Everything was in place, I was to inherit your father’s business after we wed. If you could have just kept your legs together--”
“Now, see here, Mr. Wainwright!” Olivia started indignantly.
George took two steps forward and grabbed Olivia by the arms. “You couldn’t just arrive in England and become a proper lady and allow me to gain your property and business?” He shook her and clamped a hand over her mouth. Then his anger felt different, and Olivia saw the lascivious look in his eyes, “Why don’t you show me what I’m missing out on--” he continued to manhandle her and tried to yank up the skirts of her nightgown and robe. Olivia began to panic. She absently realized that her screams would be muffled and probably ignored in this establishment. She was thrashing around frantically trying to free herself of his grasp.
Just then, Juan burst in. In one long stride, he crossed the room. He grabbed George, tore him off of Olivia, and threw him across to the other side of the room. Olivia gasped and huddled in the corner, worried for Juan’s safety, but more for Mr. Wainwright’s when she saw the rage on her husband’s face.
Juan continued to pick him up and pummel him; George was unable to get a single punch in as Juan continued to thrust his fists into George’s face and abdomen. George tried to block the blows to his face, with little success. Juan gave one last punch and George crumpled to the ground.
Juan let go of the collar of George’s shirt, turning to walk away he heard George speak, “If Miss Clairmond wasn’t such a whore, everything would have been settled.” Juan turned around to see George reach into his coat to grab out his pistol. In the blink of an eye, Juan took his cutlass from his waist and thrust it into George’s chest with finality.
Olivia sat watching from the corner, horrified. “Juan, no,” she called as the blade made contact with George. Juan skillfully removed the blade from George and he wiped it off on George’s coat. He restored the cutlass to his waist and turned to Olivia.
“Are you harmed, my love?” he asked as the look of vengeance transformed into that of concern as he set his eyes on her. Juan pulled Olivia into his arms, shielding her from the prone form. She was shaking. “Are you harmed?” he repeated, speaking quietly into her hair.
Olivia shook her head. Juan held her tight and rocked her soothingly. “I’m okay.” She took a moment to gather her faculties. “My skirts are too long and kept getting caught around me, so he wasn’t able to pull them up,” she said,
as she attempted a more lighthearted tone.
“Gracias a Dios,” Juan muttered under his breath, kissing her forehead. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t back here sooner.”
“I’m just thankful that you came in when you did,” Olivia stated. She nestled against the safety and strength of his chest and felt her body begin to settle. “What are we going to do about him?” Olivia finally said, nodding her head towards George.
“We aren’t going to do anything--I will place you with Abigail, and I will handle Mr. Wainwright,” Juan said, rising and helping Olivia to her feet. He stroked her cheek, placing a stray hair behind her ear. “We will figure things out after that.”
Chapter 11
Olivia woke up the next morning in far better spirits. She was well-rested and felt like the shadow of Mr. Wainwright was no longer clouding their days. Juan had taken care of everything and was back to fetch her from Abigail much more expediently than Olivia would have predicted.
She stretched a bit and sighed and saw the tiniest smirk flit across Juan’s face. She nudged up against him, splaying her back against his hard chest. Without opening his eyes, he pulled her tightly into his protective embrace. When she didn’t get the immediate response she was looking for, Olivia then wiggled her rear against his abdomen suggestively. Juan grinned and his arm encircled her. He pressed his hand against her womanhood and nuzzled against her ear and neck, giving her gentle kisses. He increased the pressure between her legs as she swayed and undulated between the muscle of his thighs. She could feel his hardness as she toyed with him. Juan was breathing harder and kissing her with more fervor.
Suddenly, he whisked her nightclothes up and made contact skin to skin. It didn’t take long for his cock to find purchase deep within Olivia and she moaned as he smoothly slid in and out of her. The frantic nature of their need was temporarily assuaged as they found a gentle rhythm. He pulled her fully into him, her buttocks anchored against him, his hand still manipulating her as he gently thrust again and again.
The Spiteful Vixen Page 8
