by Connie Mason
Bright dots of rage exploded behind Alexa’s eyes as Charles continued to express his arrogant views. The bastard! she cursed beneath her breath. He’s of the same ilk as Fox who expected her to remain meekly at home while he and others like him romped merrily from one adventure to the next. But she’d show them both! she vowed. Charles would soon learn just how dangerous it was to tangle with a vixen. As for Fox, one day he too would feel the Vixen’s fangs!
Concentrating on Charles and his flashing sword, Alexa slowly and methodically employed the skill she had honed during the previous three battles and months of training to thoroughly humiliate Charles, who fancied himself quite accomplished in the art of fencing. Alexa proved to him otherwise as she drove her sword through the fleshy part of his arm. Charles yelped, cursing loudly, but somehow he managed to retain his stance and parry her next thrust, which might have proved fatal had it landed.
Then something happened to bring a quick end to the skirmish. One of Charles’s chance thrusts flicked across the front of Alexa’s silk blouse, accidentally slitting the sheer fabric. The edges parted and Alexa’s full breasts tumbled free, so stunning Charles that he momentarily dropped his guard. That moment was all Alexa needed as she brought the sword up and inward as hard and fast as she could, putting all her strength and weight into the blow. The edge of her blade caught his sword just below the hilt, jarring it loose from his hand and sending it slithering across the deck out of reach. His eyes flew up to find a sword pointed at his throat.
His face a mottled red, Charles shouted accusingly, “You take unfair advantage, Vixen!”
Alexa chuckled hoarsely. “A woman uses any means available to gain the upper hand, Captain Whitlaw.”
“You’re a brazen hussy, Vixen,” spat Charles disparagingly, “to bare yourself so shamelessly before all these men.”
“Aye, I am,” agreed Alexa with equanimity. “But enough of this. It seems my men have won the day and await your presence with your crew on the quarterdeck.” She prodded him with the tip of her sword and Charles reluctantly moved forward. Immediately Drake took over and Alexa strode off in the direction of her cabin, only to return a few minutes later with a fresh blouse.
Because they were close to a port controlled by the Americans, Alexa decided to turn the Avenger over to the American navy rather than selling or sinking her. She was a good ship and would be used to serve against her own countrymen. She told as much to Charles when she assembled the defeated English crew to inform them of her intentions.
After consulting with Drake, she decided to lock the English crew in the hold of the Avenger and let the American government ransom them as they saw fit. Charles loudly voiced his indignation over the arrangements, but to no avail.
“Don’t you know your cause has been defeated?” he protested vigorously. “Why don’t you give up now and save yourself a lot of grief? One of your own generals, Benedict Arnold, has been tried for treason and subsequently executed. Everyone knows the Americans are all but beaten.”
“I have every faith that the Americans will emerge victorious,” Alexa retorted sharply. “The fight will continue until the English are driven from American shores.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard that our dashing Colonel Banastre Tarleton cut to pieces a detachment of your General Lincoln’s cavalry followed by the complete destruction of Buford’s Virginia regiment near the North Carolina border.” Charles bragged. “Why, before the year is out, you, Fox and all the others of your ilk will find yourselves swinging at the end of a rope.”
Alexa and Drake exchanged significant looks but refused to rise to Whitlaw’s bait. This last piece of news he had so carelessly thrown out came as a surprise to Alexa, but she was not one to discount so easily the Americans’ fortitude and stamina in the face of great odds. Charles realized he had imparted staggering information to the Vixen and sought to remain in command of the situation.
“Not even four of your generals combined—Greene. La Fayette, Gates and Washington—succeeded in defeating our General Cornwallis. Gates, the hero of Saratoga, became overconfident and imcompetent. His rout is the talk of the war. He was immediately replaced by Greene, who is said to be nearly as able as Washington. But then, that is not saying much. By the end of 1780 the Americans will once again be placed firmly under the English yoke.”
“You always did talk too much, Charles,” Alexa rasped irritably. “I’m afraid your participation in the war has ceased and you are destined to languish in an American prison for the duration. Now, in the hold with you!”
Charles peered at Alexa curiously. Why did the feeling persist that he had met her somewhere? Perhaps it was her own familiarity in addressing him that gave him some basis for his thinking. But surely he would have recognized the flowing silver hair, the hoarse whispery voice, the enticing body, had he seen Vixen before. Still puzzling over the enigma of who had bested him in battle. Charles disappeared into the hold muttering vaguely about vixens and foxes and women who should be home engaged in nothing more taxing than embroidery.
Drake stood beside Alexa as the Avenger, now manned with a skeleton crew from My Lady Vixen, set a northern course for a port known to be in American possession. Drake felt he knew his captain well enough by now to speak frankly. “Judging from your words. Vixen, I assume you know that English captain.”
“I do know him.” Alexa shrugged. “Quite well, at one time.”
“Do you think he recognized you?”
Alexa grinned impishly. “No more so than you or any of the crewmen who saw me walk aboard My Lady Vixen over three months ago.”
Drake answered her grin with a smile of his own. “Aye, I remember that day well. Not a man jack aboard thought the silver-haried wench anything more than a gorgeous, lusty woman on the prowl for an easy coin earned on her back. You fooled us all. Vixen, just as I imagine you fooled the Englishman.”
A thorough inspection of the ship was made to assess the damage done by the Avenger’s huge guns. To Alexa’s chagrin My Lady Vixen had not escaped totally unscathed. A ball went through the hull just above the waterline and another fell into the water doing little harm to the structure of the ship but cracking the rudder. After consultation with Drake it was decided to put into a small uninhabited island off the Florida coast often used by privateers because of its concealed cove and deep water that allowed ships to anchor close to shore. Wood for repairs was readily available as were fresh water and wild fruits and berries. As yet the English hadn’t discovered the haven and it was still considered a safe refuge.
Alexa learned from the ship’s carpenters that it would take several days to complete the repairs necessary to make My Lady Vixen seaworthy, and decided that the crew had earned a short reprieve from their duties aboard ship. As they traveled south Alexa grew anxious to feel land beneath her feet once again and considered sleeping on shore during their stay on the island, just as she knew most of her crew would elect to do. Perhaps she would explore on her own while her men went about their duties. A freshwater bath would feel delicious, and she needed to touch up the roots of her hair with the dwindling supply of bleach Lana sent along.
Two days later My Lady Vixen dropped anchor a short distance from the white crescent of sand lining the pristine water of the bay. Almost immediately two boats set out for shore with the landing party. Though they expected to find nothing amiss, precaution was the better part of valor and Alexa was more cautious than most, no doubt due to the fact that she was a woman and must work twice as hard to retain the trust of her men. Two hours later the boats returned, reporting that all was secure.
That evening the entire crew, with the exception of the watch left aboard My Lady Vixen, lounged comfortably on the soft sand while the cook prepared their meal over a huge fire built on the beach. A detail of men had scoured the shore for crabs, clams and lobsters and tonight the fare consisted of a luscious mixture of shellfish and rice called jambalaya by their Creole cook. It was delicious and Alexa hungrily gobbled
up her share, then curled up in her cape and promptly fell asleep against the romantic backdrop of a full moon, swaying palms and a voice in the background singing a soulful tune.
The next day dawned bright and hot despite the fact that it was late October and 1780 was fast drawing to a close. Alexa had a difficult time equating the heat and humidity of Florida with what she was accustomed to in England.
Shaking the sand out of her clothes, Alexa ate a bite of breakfast, then satisfied herself that the men were getting on nicely with their repairs before gathering up her paraphernalia and informing Drake that she was off for a bath.
“I’ve been on this island many times, Vixen,” Drake told her. “It’s riddled with swamps but if you keep to the well-defined path leading inland you’ll soon come to a small lake. The lake is shallow and should serve your purposes admirably.”
“I’ll remember your advice, Drake.” Alexa smiled winsomely.
So winsomely, in fact, that Drake was persuaded to add, “Perhaps I should come along and … er … protect you.”
Alexa glanced at him knowingly. Since they first sailed together Drake had never, either by word or action, expressed a desire for her as a woman. Which was fine with Alexa, for the Vixen was a captain first and a woman last. She wanted no relationships to confuse matters or undermine her authority. Not that Drake wasn’t handsome enough, for he was. He was also strong, virile, and protective of her. But he was not Fox/Adam—and he was the only man she wanted.
Grinning impishly, Alexa patted her sword and said, “Thank you, but my sword is all the protection I need.”
Drake watched her wistfully as she turned and ambled down the path, the provocative sway of her hips sending sharp pangs of desire surging through his veins. He had been at sea too long, Drake thought, shaking his head to clear it of such disturbing ideas. Perhaps he could persuade Vixen to allow the men a much-needed few days of diversion in a friendly port. But Drake was of the opinion that bedding a whore would not solve his particular problem.
Alexa spent the entire morning lolling in the warm water of the small lake Drake pointed out to her. Using a bar of sweet smelling soap she washed her long silver tresses and then touched up the roots with the last of the bleach mixture she brought with her from Nassau. She would have to return soon and purchase more, she thought idly as she soaped her body which had taken on a golden glow from her long hours standing in the sun. Alexa had never looked better and she knew it.
When she finally had enough of the water she lay down on the sand to soak up the sun while she waited for her clothes, which she had washed, to dry. From force of habit as well as to protect the delicate skin of her face from the drying rays of the sun, Alexa donned her mask and promptly fell asleep.
Within minutes Alexa began to dream. It was the same dream that haunted her nights as well as many of her days. It had been over six months since she had felt a man’s touch or experienced a man’s love, and Alexa was not made of stone.
In her dream she was truly a vixen, being stalked by a fox, a handsome animal both ferocious and brave. Raw desire raged within the fox, desire to mate with the female of his species. There was no escape for the vixen; she was cunningly cornered by the fox and dragged to his lair. Pouncing upon her, the fox suddenly took on his human form and it was Adam who bent over her own human body, titillating and exciting her until her blood warmed and need sang through her veins.
Had her dream followed its normal course Alexa would wake up at this point bathed in sweat and tense with barely suppressed desire. Then she would clear her mind of those disturbing thoughts and force herself instead to concentrate not on Adam/Fox but on his lies, and the hurt he caused her by failing to trust her enough to take her into his confidence. And as her anger grew, her ardor died. Only then would sleep claim her again.
But today, lying on her back with the sun warming her nude body and her erotic dreams heating her blood, Alexa did not awaken. Her dreams were too real this time and she was too near the thrilling climax to surrender to reality. Instead, she succumbed to the rewarding path where her dreams led, to her erotic fantasies, and finally to ecstasy.
Alexa moaned, a sound immediately answered by a low chuckle. But caught up as she was in her dream, Alexa did not associate it with reality—until the moment when soft lips lapped at her turgid nipples and rough hands explored the velvet texture of her skin. Her eyes snapped open and a masked face bent over her, a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“We meet at last, Vixen,” murmured Fox, his silver-gray eyes roaming the length of her bared flesh with amused insolence.
Automatically Alexa’s hands flew to her face and she breathed easier when she felt her mask securely in place. “I’ve looked forward to this meeting. Fox,” Alexa whispered huskily, using the same ploy he did to disguise her voice. “Only somehow I pictured the circumstances different.” She started to rise but Fox’s large form held her firmly in place beneath him.
“Where do you think you’re going, Vixen?” Fox rasped lazily.
“Back to the beach,” Alexa insisted. “By now my men must be wondering what is keeping me and will soon come looking for me.” That ought to discourage him, she thought smugly.
“No need for that,” Fox informed her blandly. “I told your man Drake that I would look after you.”
“I can’t imagine him agreeing to that!” Alexa replied testily. Then she recalled that Drake was aware of her true identity and no doubt in his capacity as Mac’s first mate was privy to Fox’s identity also. “What are you doing here on this island?” she asked to cover her confusion.
“Same as you,” Fox confided. “We were in need of repairs and sought a safe place to make them.”
Squirming beneath him, Alexa declared, “Let me up. Fox. I’m certain my clothes are dry by now.”
“No, Vixen.” Fox laughed softly. “Not until I make love to you.”
“Like hell!” Alexa roared, almost forgetting to disguise her voice in her anger. “I’m not your plaything! I pick and choose my lovers!”
“I’ll not disappoint you, Vixen,” Fox assured her with typical male conceit. “By now you should be bored with Drake and the others and welcome someone new to amuse you. You look to be a woman of vast … appetites. Give me a try, Vixen, you won’t be sorry.”
Alexa exploded in a torrent of fury. “You conceited bastard!” she gasped, dismayed by his profound audacity. “I wouldn’t bed you if you were the last man on earth!”
“I want you, Vixen,” Fox stated, undaunted. “When I came upon you sleeping in the sand I thought you the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
“How many women have you said that to?” Alexa demanded mockingly. She could not help but wonder how many women Fox had bedded since he had left her to languish in Nassau.
“Only one other,” admitted Fox dryly.
“Where is she now? That other woman, I mean. Do you love her?”
“You ask too many questions,” said Fox evasively. “We are wasting precious time when I could be making love to you.”
Alexa bristled. “I think not, Fox. You and I have only just met and I’m not even certain I like you.”
“Ah, but I like you, Vixen. I’ve dreamed of meeting you ever since I first heard of your exploits. You’re good, Vixen, damn good. My Lady Vixen’s record is one to be proud of. There is not an English ship afloat who wouldn’t give its eye teeth to bring about your downfall. Your reputation alone made me yearn to meet you, but now that I’ve seen you I won’t be satisfied to settle for mere friendship. I mean to have you, milady Vixen. For what other purpose was a vixen created if not to mate with a fox?”
“Why, to tame a fox, naturally,” Alexa taunted coyly. “Now will you kindly let me up?”
“You’re wrong, Vixen, it’s the other way around.” As if to prove his point his lips took hers hungrily, eager to prove his mastery over her.
Alexa fought against the emotions his kiss was provoking in her, excruciating
ly aware that the hot blood in her worked to Fox’s advantage. He was despicable, she told herself, a charlatan, a liar, arrogant—and worst of all he had deceived her!
His hand rested at the side of her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline in a lulling motion that relaxed her. His kiss was at first light and teasing, then, as his passion flared, deeper and demanding, drawing a response Alexa battled to withhold. Did the arrogant oaf expect every woman to fall in his arms at his slightest whim? Alexa fumed. Well, the Vixen was not just any woman! She had an independent life of her own and would bed no man unless it was her choice. And Fox was acting too self-assured and possessive for her liking.
Marshaling all her strength, Alexa shoved against Fox’s massive chest, catching him unawares and sending him sprawling on his backside. Nimbly, Alexa eluded his grasping hands as she leaped to her feet, snatching up her clothes at the same time. Fox roared in protest as his hands clutched at thin air.
“Dammit, Vixen, that was uncalled for! What is wrong with you?”
“The Vixen chooses whom she beds with, and when, Fox,” Alexa sniffed haughtily, keeping a safe distance while she slid into her revealing costume.
“Don’t I please you?” Fox glared at her. “Is that your final decision?”
Arching a slim eyebrow. Alexa leveled a pointed look in Fox’s direction, promising much but giving nothing. Her soft shoulders rose carelessly. “Who can say?” She grinned mischievously. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. And if I do you’ll be the first to know. Unless, of course, someone else catches my fancy.”
Alexa’s brazen retort did not sit well with Fox. He watched in glowering silence while Alexa dressed, and then, as if to taunt him further, began to brush her long silver tresses which had dried into a tangled mass. Engrossed in her task, Alexa did not note the gleam in Fox’s eyes or his devious smile that did not bode well for the Vixen.
When Alexa finished she gathered up her belongings and turned a questioning look on Fox who seemed so struck by her beauty he found it difficult to speak. “Will you walk back with me or come later?”
