Paula Reed - [Caribbean]

by Nobodys Saint

  He nuzzled her neck, tickling her in a way that made her breasts ache and the place between her thighs grow damp. “I will give you as much as I can.” He pulled the shirt off, then lay on his good side, his arm bracing him above her.

  “Do your ribs hurt?” she asked.

  Diego lightly kneaded one of her naked breasts, then ever so gently pinched her sensitive nipple. “There is pain and there is pain. It is not so bad.” He dipped his head and flicked his tongue over the nipple, and Mary Kate gasped.

  “I want to give you something, María Catalina, to be the first man to ever give it to you. I want to be the man against whom all others are measured in your life.”

  “They’ll come up short, every one of them,” Mary Kate said, and pulled his head to hers for another kiss.

  He pulled her shift lower still, past her waist, until she lifted her bottom so he could pull it off of her. It felt strange, deliciously wicked, to stretch out nude in the grass and arch her back under his heated gaze.

  “This comes very naturally to you,” he said.

  “It comes very naturally with you,” she replied.

  His hand touched her everywhere, caressed her torso, moved playfully along her inner thigh. And she ran her hands across his back, over hot skin and cloth bindings. She, too, let herself explore his lean, muscular legs and felt a surge of purely feminine power when she brushed against the stiff staff buried under his breeches and heard him suck in his breath. She moved to unfasten them, but his hand stayed hers.

  His mouth suckled and laved each breast until she could hardly catch her breath then continued downward. His tongue circled her navel and she writhed in exquisite agony. She felt her nether lips swell and ache, and she longed for him to touch her there. At last he did, lifting his head to watch her intently as he slid one of his long, elegant fingers into her tight sheath, and she heard her own voice, husky and low, moan his name.

  There was pain, and there was pain. The torture that gripped Diego now had nothing to do with yesterday’s fight. She was warm and wet and gloriously tight. If she were his, honorably his, he could well imagine what it would feel like to possess her completely. With his thumb gently brushing the swollen nub of flesh he knew would bring her the most pleasure, he slid his finger in and out. He was careful of the barrier that was not his to breech, but when she seemed ready, he slipped a second finger in, as well.

  Mary Kate arched her back and screamed. She felt like someone had ripped her soul from her body and flung it up to the stars. Wave upon wave of something so close to pain it could only be the purest of pleasures consumed her, seared her, left nothing in its wake but mindless bliss. She began to drift slowly down, regain some sense of herself, but Diego bent his head low and tasted her, and again, she spun out of control, flying higher than could possibly be safe.

  Diego lapped at the honey that flowed from her, absorbing the sound of her raw voice crying his name over and over and reveling in every shudder of her body. She was his. They might go about their lives, marry other people, and never see each other again, but she was his.

  He watched her float back to their trysting place by the river. Smiled at her when she lazily blinked her eyes at him.

  “I am yours,” she whispered.

  “Sí. You are.” He sat up and grabbed his shirt, wincing as he pulled it on.

  Mary Kate sat, too. “I mean it, Diego. I’m yours.”

  He gave her a little smile and said, “Forever.”

  “But aren’t you…aren’t you going to…”

  “Take you? I already have.”

  “Nay. There’s more. I may be a virgin, Diego, but I’m not ignorant.”

  “So you have told me before. And this time, you are right. Now, you are no longer ignorant. You have knowledge, María Catalina, knowledge that I gave you. Sex is very basic. The joining of male to female, even animals do that. A man can take that from a woman by force. What happened here today, that is what happens when a woman truly gives herself to a man. You will marry someone, and he will have every reason to believe you belong to him alone, but the first time you gave yourself to a man, querida, you gave yourself to me.”

  He stood and tucked his shirt into his breeches, then picked up his coat.

  “I will wait for you where the path first meets the river’s edge. When you are dressed, come and find me.”

  She watched him walk away in stunned silence. Part of her wanted to rail at him, to call him names or insist he finish what he had started. Part of her loved him all the more. He had taken what she had so wanted to give him, herself, but also had left her her honor, as only Diego Montoya Fernández de Madrid y Delgado Cortés could have done.

  “The thread that binds them is there,” a voice whispered in the leaves of the canopy overhead.

  “Then trust her to find it and let her follow it where she will,” came the answer.

  Mary Kate didn’t hear them. She was pulling her gown back over her damp shift, in a hurry to return to Diego.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Mary Kate, Geoff, Faith, and Diego were up before the sun, and breakfast was quiet and subdued, with little more noise than the occasional clatter of silverware and dishes. Truth be said, both Mary Kate and Diego pushed more food around on their plates than they ate.

  Geoff shoveled the last bite of his eggs into his mouth. “You ought to eat up. You’ll be eating biscuits that are more weevils than wheat ere you know it.”

  Faith lay a hand on her husband’s arm. “The first part of a voyage can leave some queasy, Geoff. Mayhap ‘tis best they not eat too much.”

  Diego looked affronted. “I do not get seasick!”

  “Neither do I,” said Mary Kate.

  Faith sighed. “Very little gratitude for a graceful end to the conversation.”

  “Who needs a graceful end?” Geoff asked. “I know not who the stubborn one is here, but I know two people who are about to make a stupid mistake. ‘Tis one I nearly made myself. One of you needs to surrender before it is too late.”

  Mary Kate excused herself and walked out of the room.

  “Please, Geoff,” Diego said, using Geoff’s given name for the first time ever, “do not make this any more difficult for her.”

  “You’re letting her go?” Geoff asked.

  “I understand duty. I admire her deeply for doing hers.”

  “What about her duty to herself?”

  “Still a pirate, thinking only of yourself?” Diego demanded.

  “Stop!” Faith said. “I just so hate to see you hurt again, that’s all.”

  “It is painful, aye, but not the same as it was between us. She loves me. I can live with that.”

  “I think you’re a bloody idiot,” Geoff said and tossed his napkin onto the table. “I’ll go hail my men and have a boat sent out. Shall I flag Magdalena, as well?”

  Diego nodded, and Geoff left.

  “Are you certain of this?” Faith asked.

  “No. Who is ever certain, Faith? Her family has problems, and she has been away from them for over four years already. She could not be happy with me if she felt she had abandoned them.”

  “There must be some compromise.”

  “Would you have me become an Irish fisherman?”

  Faith smiled at the image. Then she looked at Diego’s face. “Forgive me. It is not funny.”

  He permitted himself the tiniest of grins. “It is, actually. And that is the problem. It is an absurd notion. But how can she care for her family if she is on the sea with me most of the year?”

  “Has her family no responsibility to her? Are they truly so unable to fend for themselves?”

  “I think it may be hard for you and I to understand. We come from large families where each takes care of the other. It is not like that for her. This much I know, I could never love a woman who was without honor. María Catalina’s honor lies with her family.”

  Faith nodded but wondered at his words. She had learned that families were surprisingly resi
lient. When she had run away from hers, she had been so sure she had burned her bridges, but that had not been the case. In fact, as soon as Geoff finished his business in Port Royal, they would stop at Welbourne Plantation to fetch their two children from the care of Grace’s childhood nurse, and they would all accompany Geoff to Boston and visit with Faith’s parents and brothers.

  She also knew that sometimes people had to learn things for themselves.

  *

  Faith and Geoff were already aboard Destiny while Mary Kate, Elizabeth, and Miguel stood on the dock, waiting for Diego to finish transferring Mary Kate’s trunks from his ship to Geoff’s. The process was completed quickly with Geoff’s help. Mary Kate supposed he had a great deal of experience transferring cargo from someone else’s ship onto his. She wished that she had had more time to get to know him. Doubtless he had any number of exciting tales. She had to remind herself that he was English.

  But it was good of him to find her transport home. Geoff was certain he could cull old favors to find her an inexpensive fare. Likely it would be on a ship that did less than legal business under less than favorable conditions, but Mary Kate was no stranger to imperfect circumstances. Diego had left her with funds—his portion of the bonus he had made in capturing the pirate ship she had been held prisoner on. She took it without argument. After all, part of it had come from her dowry!

  And she wasn’t going to cry. If it took every bit of will she possessed, she was going to bid Diego a calm farewell. She was doing the right thing, and no amount of tears would change anything anyway. Still, she wished Diego’s aunt and uncle would leave them alone to say goodbye.

  In no time, Diego came back to the dock to retrieve Mary Kate. Salvador had to row, since Diego’s injuries still prohibited such exertion. Mary Kate supposed that most women would prefer to remember their lovers with handsome, flawless faces, but she would treasure the image of him with his black eye and cut lip.

  Elizabeth and Miguel said their goodbyes and extracted Mary Kate’s promise to write to them.

  “We must know how the tale ends, dear,” said Elizabeth. “Ships sail from Ireland to Port Royal all the time. Post a letter when you can.”

  And then she and Diego were in the boat, heading toward Destiny. Salvador considerately kept his eyes on his destination and away from his captain.

  “If you need anything, you must pray to Magdalena,” Diego told her. “I know she will listen.”

  Mary Kate nodded, her resolution against tears becoming increasingly difficult.

  He took her hand pressed her fingers to his lips. “I will always love you.”

  “And I will always be yours.”

  He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, and she thought of where his lips had touched her the day before. “I know,” he said.

  “Be safe, Diego. Don’t go chasing any more pirates.”

  “I have my saint to protect me.”

  “I know, I just…”

  “Just?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

  “And you do not be so worried about your family that you never care for yourself.”

  “Oh, I let them know when they’ve crossed the line, have no doubt.”

  He smiled, “I have no doubt.”

  They had stopped now, floating in the water under a ladder that fell down Destiny’s side. Diego wrapped his arm around her and tilted her face to his.

  “Speak very slowly, Diego,” Mary Kate whispered.

  The kiss was tender but passionate, lips lightly touching, tongues mating. Then he gathered her closer and pressed her to him, devouring her, possessing her. She yielded completely, then took even as he had, thrusting her own tongue deep into his mouth, savoring the taste of him. When they parted, she buried her face in his coat and breathed in the scent of lemon verbena and Diego Montoya. Then she turned and began to climb the ladder, awkward for her long skirts.

  When Diego moved to climb behind her and see to her safety she looked down, but not at him. “Stay there. Don’t come up. I love you.”

  If he said anything back, she didn’t hear it. The rungs of the ladder banged on the hull, and water splashed against it, as well. She didn’t look at him again until Destiny’s sails were unfurled in the wind and they were on their way. Destiny would go east, to Port Royal. Magdalena headed west, into Spanish waters.

  *

  Tortuga was as lively, but far more primitive than Port Royal. Like so much of the Caribbean, it was truly international. Most of the island’s residents were French, although Spain proclaimed legitimate ownership. In order to keep Spain at bay, the governor of Tortuga solicited the trade of English and French privateers, as well as pirates of all kinds, provided they were not Spanish.

  It was after dark, and Faith stayed safely on board Destiny with her young son and infant daughter, but Mary Kate went ashore with Geoff. They approached one of the pubs where raucous laughter spilled out into the street.

  “Whatever ship I find, I want to see the captain’s face the first time he sees you. If I don’t like the look of it, we’ll seek another.”

  “I can take care of myself, Captain.”

  In the lamplight that fell from the pub windows, half of Geoff’s face was in shadow. He gave her a wolfish grin, and all of a sudden, he was no longer the accommodating, if slightly hostile, friend Diego had introduced her to. He was a predator, as cold and ruthless as the pirate captain that had slaughtered Fortune’s crew.

  “Not all men are Diego Montoya, Mary Kate. Have you any idea how much I could sell you for here? A fiery white virgin would make for rare sport.”

  She took a step back. If she never returned home, no one would have the first idea where to look for her.

  “Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, I suggest you remember it,” he said. “Let me find you a ship. Just keep your mouth shut and look pretty but very unavailable.”

  That wouldn’t be hard. Even if he hadn’t just succeeded in frightening her out of her wits, she wouldn’t think of inviting anyone’s attention. She mainly wanted to sulk in a cabin somewhere and feel sorry for herself.

  Geoff smiled and bantered with former cohorts, slowly working his way through the pub, asking questions about this old acquaintance or that. Whenever a comment was made about his companion, he explained that she was being ransomed back to her family in Ireland—the implication clear, this woman must be delivered in good condition.

  Mary Kate chafed again at the thought. After everything she had been through, she was still property. Deliver her here, deliver her there, and for heaven’s sake, don’t damage the goods!

  Geoff rose from the table of miscreants he had just sat down with and muttered into her ear, “Don’t look like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like that. You’re attracting too much attention.”

  Mary Kate looked around. She was the object of a number of speculative and lustful glances.

  “What? I’m not flirting. I’m mad as hell, if you want to know the truth!”

  He spoke softly. “Be quiet. You’re looking like a challenge.”

  “I am a challenge!” she shouted, and a few of the men around her cheered.

  Geoff uttered a curse and pulled her out of the tavern. “Do you want to go home?”

  “Aye!” she snapped.

  “Then follow me. Keep your head down, and think of your long-lost love or a lifetime of sexual slavery or whatever it takes for you to keep a handle on your temper.”

  “I hate this.”

  “What? I’m only trying to give you what you say you want.”

  “Must you tell them ‘tis ransom?”

  “Depends upon how you want to spend the voyage home.”

  “Can’t you just tell whoever you find that I’m to be left on my own? Because I’m a woman, I’ve no rights at all?”

  “Nay, you have no rights among this kind, you have only value. Once I find someone I believe I can trus
t, then I’ll tell him the truth. There won’t really be any ransom paid, will there?”

  “Nay. My grandfather is the one with the money, and unless I am returning with an English husband, I have no value.”

  “There you go. In the meantime, I need your cooperation.”

  “I hate this.”

  “At the moment, so do I. When it comes to having to tend each other’s women, Diego had the far better bargain.”

  Geoff stalked into the next tavern, and she followed close behind, trying to look as much as possible like the inanimate object she was being treated as. This time, he seemed to know who he was looking for. He sat at a table with a gentleman whose accent placed him from the Scottish lowlands. She strained to hear what they were saying and learned the man was in partnership with an Irish captain, and aye, they were bound for home—Ireland and Scotland both.

  They haggled for a long while, and Mary Kate’s feet began to ache from standing. She wished Geoff would invite her to sit, maybe buy her a drink, but since she was the object of the dispute, she decided it would be best to keep quiet after all.

  “That’s a preposterous offer! Have you any idea what trouble it is to have a woman on board a ship?” the Scot said.

  “I sail with one all the time.”

  “Your wife. Any man on board would know better than to touch the captain’s wife.”

  “Tell your men she’s to be ransomed.”

  “They’ll expect a share. You know that.”

  Mary Kate sighed and sat down. “Tell them I’m to be ransomed. By the time we reach Ireland, trust me, no one will question why my family will not pay to take me back.”

  The Scot glowered at her. “My men will not part with you without the money, and when they find there’s no money coming, they’ll take another form of payment.”

  “Oh, I’m thinking the moment we make port, they’ll be only too glad to see me go. Just see to it that I go with you when you’re to fetch the money.”

  The Scot looked at Geoff, and Geoff looked glum. “It may be the only option.”