by Lynn Patrick
“Did I tell you how glad I was to see you, Caitlin, honey?”
Already feeling desperately alone, Caitlin tore her gaze away from the man she loved as several crew members moved, into position. “Several times. And I was glad to see you too.”
“I was so worried. Well, not at first, because I thought you’d gone off with that handsome Bryce, which, of course, you had, although not in the manner I had imagined.” Babs sighed. “You must have had the most exciting adventures, while I was simply bored.”
“You couldn’t convince Trent to stick around, huh?”
“Actually, when I found you’d gone, I did sail with him and his friends for a few more days.” Eyeing Perry, who seemed to be listening to their conversation, Babs lowered her voice. “But the situation got a little sticky. He said that since you weren’t sharing my cabin, there was no good reason why he shouldn’t. Imagine, thinking that I’d sleep with him when I didn’t care for him. I mean, I like Trent because he’s charming and fun. But he just doesn’t make bells ring, if you know what I mean.”
Although Caitlin knew exactly what her friend meant, she wasn’t prepared to talk about Bryce. Not yet. “So you asked him to bring you back?”
“Yes, and I was horrified to realize that you were still gone. It wasn’t like you, so I spoke to Moreau. He assured me that you were merely making the most of your romantic vacation.”
“And convinced you that there was no reason to alert the authorities?”
Babs nodded. “Of course, I did, anyway, but that was only several days ago when you didn’t show up in time for our scheduled departure. I was feeling so guilty. If something had happened to you, it would have been my fault for leaving you alone. The authorities over on Harmony said they’d see what they could do but that I might as well return to North Carolina. I just couldn’t leave, not until I was sure you were all right.” Babs paused and touched Caitlin’s arm. “You are all right, aren’t you?”
‘Of course,” Caitlin lied, reaching out to squeeze Babs’s hand. She wasn’t going to let her personal tragedy affect her friend. Babs had already been through enough on her account.
And a broken heart never killed anyone, did it? She’d get over Bryce Prescott Winslow, would have to, since he didn’t want anything to do with her now that he’d found Ned. She didn’t even know why she’d walked out on him in the midst of their argument and then ignored him. Perhaps it was because she’d wanted some kind of reassurance that he cared about her, even if she was an impractical dreamer like his brother. But he hadn’t even tried to make up with her, proving how very little he did care.
“I’m glad you cared enough to be concerned,” she told Babs sincerely.
“Well, of course. Why, you’re the best friend I ever had, Caitlin O’Connor.” The two women hugged.
It was then that Bryce ordered his crew to lower the sails. Caitlin automatically moved to help, taking her place behind Perry.
“Caitlin, honey, what do you think you’re doin’?”
“Working. We’re shorthanded, since some of the crew had to go with Anselm.”
“You’ll break your nails,” Babs murmured.
But even as she carefully uncoiled the line and fed it to Perry, Caitlin was deaf to her friend’s protest. The sounds of working pulleys, flapping sails, and the straining anchor cable seemed to seal her fate. It was here that she would leave the Sea Devil; here that she would leave Bryce.
The reality of the situation was that Bryce left her. He had one of the launches lowered and boarded it without so much as a glance in her direction. She heard him tell Perry to make sure that the women were ready to go when he returned. It was then that exhaustion and disappointment caught up to her, making Caitlin want to crumple to the deck and have a good cry. But she wouldn’t allow herself that weakness, not in front of Babs and the crew.
Surprisingly it was Lars who was crying. “You’re going to leave just like the others,” he mumbled, hugging her awkwardly with one hand, taking a swig out of a bottle Caitlin hadn’t been able to find and confiscate with the other. Tears dribbled down into his beaded white beard. “Probably will marry some landlubber who won’t appreciate your fine talents. You’re one of the best…pest, crest, nest…natural sailors I ever met.” He took another swig. “Captain Flint’s gonna miss you. Calico Jack will too. He might not be able to find his new coat without you.”
“And I’m going to miss them,” Caitlin admitted. “And you can help Jack dress in the mornings, can’t you? Babs, make sure our things are ready to go while I get Lars down to his bunk. He’s had a little too much to drink.”
“Sure, Caitlin, honey.”
Caitlin didn’t have time to wonder why Babs stared at her so queerly as she led the old man to the companionway. Surprisingly Lars allowed her to take the bottle from him without more than a cursory protest.
“Come on, Lars, let’s go below.”
As they started to descend, he blubbered, “Why do you want to leave us?”
“I don’t, Lars,” she whispered softly, not really intending the words for his ears. “I want to stay with Bryce, but he isn’t giving me that choice”
It was true. She didn’t want to leave. She’d miss the cat. She’d even miss the nasty parrot. But most of all she’d miss the brave men who’d gone from her captors to her friends in the last couple of weeks.
Though she’d tried not to think of it directly, Caitlin had secretly hoped that Bryce loved her and would refuse to let her go. But this wasn’t a fantasy they were playing out, as they had in their lovemaking. It was real life. And whether or not she’d leave her heart behind, it was time for her to go home.
No, to North Carolina, Caitlin thought, feeling as if the ship and the sea and the magical West Indies were now her home.
“I thought I’d teach you to make sails by hand, missy. To pass the craft on to someone who appreciates it. Now I won’t have anyone…”
“I’m sorry.” After helping Lars into his bunk she kissed the old man’s wet cheek. “I’ll miss you too.”
She left quickly before she did cry, but she stopped in the galley to pull herself together.
By the time she got up to the deck, which was now illuminated by early-morning light, the Sea Sprite and Moreau’s cruiser were anchored a short distance away. Ned’s men were in the process of lowering a launch.
And only a few yards away, Babs, with Perry’s help, was busy stacking their luggage near the rail. How had her friend gotten things together so quickly? Caitlin wondered. When they’d stopped to pick her up on Hibiscus, it had seemed to take Babs hours to get ready. But before she could jokingly compliment her friend on her newfound speed, Caitlin heard an outboard motor in the distance. Turning toward the sound, she saw the launch heading back from the island toward the ship, and she steeled herself for the coming encounter with Bryce.
The sun was already rising in the hazy sky, sending shots of pastel color through the morning mists surrounding the island. Gulls screeched overhead, dipping low, dropping to the water’s surface to catch their prey. Caitlin watched until Bryce rose from the launch.
Their eyes met and locked. Was his sea-green gaze filled with longing and regret? Caitlin blinked away the burning sensation at the back of her lids. Had Bryce’s lips quivered once, as though he were about to speak? She held her breath, silently willing the man to tell her that he loved her. Instinctively she felt it was his last chance.
Use it. Don’t let me go.
But she’d seen too many romantic movies, she told herself when he finally did speak.
“I see you’re ready. Good. Perry will take you to a friend’s house. Name’s William Mansfield.” Bryce looked away and cleared his throat before gruffly adding, “He’ll make arrangements to get you back to the States on the next available flight. Maybe tomorrow.”
So the man she loved was sending her away, after all, and as soon as possible! “Don’t do us any favors, Captain!”
“Caitlin, honey—”
>
Babs froze in mid-sentence when Caitlin warned her with a look before venting her anger on Bryce. “You think that because you give your men orders, you can give them to everyone else too! Well, forget it! We’ll get home on our own.”
“I’m not giving you orders.”
“That’s right. You’re not.” Caitlin struggled to pick up as many pieces of luggage as she could. “Babs, get the rest of your suitcases so we can get out of here.”
Babs opened her mouth as though to protest. But in the end she picked up every remaining bag, more than Caitlin had ever seen her friend carry. Somehow they safely got down the narrow metal steps to the launch, where they handed the luggage to Perry before climbing into the rocking skiff.
“I assume there’s got to be at least one hotel in town, right, Perry?” Caitlin asked when she got herself settled.
“Take them to Mansfield’s,” Bryce said tersely. “That is an order and one you will follow, milady.”
Caitlin’s spurt of anger had already died down, so she didn’t bother to protest. After he unloaded his illicit cargo and brought it to the authorities along with the treasure and the location of Moreau and his men, Bryce would undoubtedly sail off into the sunset—literally—never to be seen again. At least not by her.
Wanting one last look to remember him by, Caitlin stared up through tear-filled eyes. With the ship as his stage, the wind ruffling his sun-burnished hair and the loose shirt he wore, he looked magnificent, every inch the pirate lover, despite the lack of outlawish beard. It was the way she wanted to remember him. She quickly shifted her focus toward St. Vincent because she was unable to stop. hot tears from slipping down her cheeks.
“My, my. I do think there’s a thing or two missing from that story of yours, Caitlin, honey.” Babs waited for a response, then looked back to Perry. “I guess you know more about it than I do.”
“That’s for Miss Caitlin to say.”
“I don’t feel like saying anything right now.”
“Well, just remember that you have a best friend who has an unwaveringly sympathetic ear.” Babs seemed to be talking to herself when she softly added, “I realized you had changed, but I couldn’t figure out why exactly. Amazing the things love can do to a normally sensible person.”
Amazing, Caitlin agreed silently.
Lying alone in the large antique four-poster, Caitlin stared into the silent darkness of the immense bedroom. At least the room seemed immense after she’d experienced living in the small but efficient quarters of a ship. How long was it going to take her to get used to being on land again? She was still listening for the murmur of the sea and imagining that the floors were rocking beneath her in the natural rhythm of a sailing ship.
She wished that imagined motion were enough to lull her to sleep. As it was, she lay wide-awake. She’d been tossing and turning for what had seemed like hours, twisting the white, lace-edged sheets around herself and watching moonlight seep through the bedroom’s deep-silled windows. It must be long after midnight.
Turning on her side, gazing out through the nearest pair of open shutters, she glimpsed the full moon in the sky. Was it casting its silvery net of enchanted light over Bryce right now? Was he on watch, observing the sky from the deck of the Sea Devil? Was he thinking about her at all?
Probably not, she thought morosely, throwing the sheets aside and rising. Damn the heartless scoundrel! Why couldn’t he have been nicer when they’d parted? Why couldn’t he have said good-bye properly? Better yet, why couldn’t he have fallen in love with her, so they wouldn’t have had to part at all?
Struggling against tears, Caitlin paced across the floor, almost stumbling over the long cotton batiste nightgown Mrs. Mansfield had loaned her. She skirted the rattan chaise longue and its matching side table to seat herself on the cushioned window seat. The sight of the lovely garden in the moonlight outside would surely help her to relax. She should be more appreciative of the exotic beauty the Mansfield estate and its eighteenth-century house had to offer. She wouldn’t have another chance, since she’d be leaving the Caribbean tomorrow.
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the scented air. Her second-story perch overlooked a trellised veranda and the walled garden below. Cabbage palms rose majestically among flowering shrubs and breadfruit trees, while vines of allamanda, yellow trumpet-shaped flowers, climbed the trellises off to one side of the large house. A swimming pool sparkled in the moonlight.
Owning acres of rich, terraced land on St. Vincent, the Mansfields were definitely well-to-do. They were also kind and gracious, having prepared a feast for Caitlin and Babs and providing each of the young women with luxurious bedrooms. Too bad Caitlin hadn’t been in the mood to converse more with the pleasant older couple. Instead it had been all she could do to present a normal facade and answer questions. She knew Babs hadn’t been fooled by her act.
But surely she’d get over all of this…
She suddenly started as she caught sight of a shadow flitting along one of the garden walls. Gone as quickly as it had appeared, the dark shape had resembled a human figure. Blinking, Caitlin peered around intently but noticed nothing else unusual. Except for the sound of a light wind moving through the leaves of the tall palms, the flickering shadows they cast in the moonlight, the garden was quiet. Had she imagined the figure?
Probably. Hadn’t Bryce complained about her penchant for conjuring up colorful images? Would he have loved her if she’d been a different sort of person?
Would she ever be able to stop thinking about him? Groaning irritably as she made her way back to the bed, she flopped down and determinedly pulled a pillow over her head. She’d force her eyes to stay closed if she had to. And she’d forget about Bryce if it was the last thing she ever did!
But she still couldn’t sleep. Too quiet before, now the night seemed filled with noise: the vines and branches outside the bedroom window scraped at the building’s brick walls; the wind sighed sadly; the breakers rushed in on the beach nearby. Thoroughly aggravated, Caitlin threw aside the pillow, ready to rise and close the shutters, when a dark figure hoisted itself through the opening and onto the window seat. Eyes widening, breath catching in her throat, she could only stare.
And she needed no scrap of imagination for this vision. Carrying a large-brimmed feathered hat in one hand, the man wore a wide-sleeved shirt, breeches, tall boots, and carried a sword at his side. Although his face was shadowed, she instantly recognized the sharp profile outlined against the moonlit sky.
“Bryce!”
“Shh,” he whispered huskily, leaping from the window seat to stride to the bed.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, hoping that her rising excitement wouldn’t be too obvious.
“Looking for you, milady.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his cutlass clanking, and leaned over her to help himself to a kiss. “I want you.”
Knowing that she’d be unable to keep from responding to his kisses, she moved away, focusing on her hurt feelings. “Well, I don’t want you,” she lied. “And I’m trying to sleep. I have to get up early to go to the airport tomorrow—”
“Think you’re going somewhere?” One of his hands snaked across the bed to pull at the satin ribbons of her nightgown. She slapped at it.
“You know I’m going somewhere, Bryce. You probably ordered the Mansfields to place me bodily on the plane.”
“Then I’ll change my orders.”
“Change them? Why?” she asked, her heart beating faster.
“I’ve decided I’m not quite through with you, milady,” he said teasingly. “Captain Wicked Winslow, Scourge of the Seas, has a few other plans for you. And they’ll take some time—at least several more days.”
Before she could say anything, he made a sudden lunge for her across the bed. Catching hold of her, he drew her against him. In spite of her murmured protests, he placed moist kisses along her throat, then covered her mouth firmly with his own, his stubbly chin scraping against her soft skin.
/> “Mmm,” she murmured, managing to move her face to one side. “Why did you shave your beard?”
“Miss it? It’ll grow back again. I shaved so I’d look especially clean-cut and law-abiding for the island authorities. Although I think you’d still prefer me as a pirate.”
The fine material of the nightgown was thin, making her feel as if she were naked against him. Her traitorous nipples hardened as his large hands moved over her, one managing to slip beneath the ribboned opening of her garment. She squirmed more when that hand sweetly covered her swelling breast.
“Stop it!” she exclaimed, pushing at him. “I’m not about to play ‘pirates’ with you at the moment, acting out some erotic scenario.”
He scowled, loosening his hold a little. “I thought you liked this… That’s why I wore my costume.”
“But it’s not time for play. It’s time for serious talk.”
“I’ve had more than enough talking for today. I’ve spent hours being questioned by the St. Vincent authorities.” He gently smoothed her long hair back over her shoulders. “Your hair’s so soft, Caitlin,” he whispered, winding a strand of it around his fingers. “I just want to hold you. Aren’t you the least bit happy to see me? It’s a miracle I’m not sitting in jail. In spite of the things we’d done—especially me—my rapscallion brother and I got off with official reprimands and our agreement to give testimony at Moreau’s trial.”
“You thought you’d be imprisoned?”
