by Meg Hennessy
“Just stand by and—”
“Si, just stand by.”
Colette forced her mouth shut, clamping down on every word that demanded to be heard. It was no use. In reality, she knew only Donato could handle the situation. But sister or not, that woman made Colette’s blood boil, and it took all of her strength to keep it at a simmer.
The longboat started toward them, slowly making headway over the rolling sea. Closer they came. The chair was swung over the side in preparation of her boarding. The closer they got, the more the waves slapped against the hull.
There was some commotion as men were sent over the side to await the arrival of Donato’s sister. Soon the chair was hoisted and with it, a woman was lifted over the bulwarks and onto the main deck.
Colette noted the striking red satin dress she wore and the smart satin slippers on her feet. In her thick black hair that hung the length of her back, she wore a sparkling peineta covered with a black lace mantilla. She was a remarkably beautiful woman, with wavy ebony hair and dark eyes trimmed in long heavy lashes. Her skin was very light, compared to Donato’s, and contrasted sharply with the raven hair that shimmered over her shoulders.
Colette held her breath as the woman stepped clear of the chair. She looked around the deck with the air of royalty, surveying her subjects as if a queen had arrived. After her grandiose review of the ship, she faced Colette and Donato. She held her chin high, and her long ruby earrings caught the early morning light, sparkling to the rhythm of the seawater.
Two other men had accompanied Rayna, but only she approached.
Before Colette stood the sister of her husband and the abductor of her son.
Rayna de la Roche.
…
Donato gave a slight bow. “Rayna.”
“Your Excellency.” She gave a return nod of her head. “What took you so long? We waited.”
So she had, and he had suspected as much. “Storm.”
Colette took a step forward. Donato knew she wanted to be a part of this, but they were on such a thin layer of civility, it would take little to break off negotiations, if that was what Rayna intended. He had to see what cards Rayna held before slowly playing his.
He motioned toward Colette. “My wife, Colette, the boy’s mother.”
“Ah…” Rayna tilted her head to peer down at Colette. “The French—”
“Is my son all right?” Colette asked through very thin lips as Donato held her arm tight to prevent her attack.
“Si, we take very good care of him, senora.” Rayna looked around again and whispered to Donato, “Can we talk in private?”
“We can. Follow me.” Donato led her down the main deck to the rear hatch and opened it. She halted, looking at the hole in the deck.
“You expect me to crawl down a ladder through a hatch?”
“Do you wish to speak in private?”
“I do.”
“Then I expect you to crawl down that ladder.” Donato went down first and waited to assist his sister. Colette followed after her with lips blanched white from keeping them closed. Her breathing was rapid, and he could see the pulsation in the hollow of her throat that hammered out war drums. He expected she might defy him and try to come to this private meeting, and was more than relieved when she suggested she’d wait in the stateroom. But that brought on a snicker from Rayna.
“A stateroom?” She took in all the hammocks hanging along the wall. “This is a small ship, mi hermano. I am confused. After hearing the tales of how you’ve terrorized the gulf waters with your piracy, I would think you’d have a mighty ship that would make even a frigate quiver. What is this, could you not find something smaller?”
Donato refused to take the bait and gently moved the party through the stateroom into the map room. It was small and private. To his relief, Colette didn’t follow, though her expression was not to be trifled with. He nodded his appreciation at her statesmanship when he closed the door behind his sister.
Donato motioned to the chair opposite the small desk, and he sat on the other side. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, but Rayna didn’t wait long to start.
“Father is in a difficult position. You must help him.”
But Donato wasn’t moved by her entreaty. He had questions of his own. “Why did you take my son?”
Rayna leaned back in the chair, adjusting her mantilla. “Leverage.”
“How did you know about him?”
“I know you thought to be secret, but you robbed the Loirie. It was clever to use the Lady Tempest as a cover. But you were found out. If the king were to know who robbed his ship, he would suspect you a revolutionary.”
“How did you know about my son?”
“There is much talk in the sewers of…what…New Orleans. Talk about a strange pair of medallions that lead to a treasure of gold and how a man was trying to buy a woman with one. You had the woman with you, and the man was murdered in Port-au-Prince. Is this bringing anything back to you? That woman, the child’s mother, was on the ship you robbed.”
Donato attempted to remain impassive, but he knew he flinched when she said the truth, and Rayna had not missed it. “Ah, she does not know that it was you who put her on the auction block in Port-au-Prince?”
She waited for him to respond, but his mind had left the ship and was standing in Port-au-Prince watching as they auctioned off Colette. He fought to keep his expression steady. With his silence, she continued, “We learned you had this woman with you and she returned to New Orleans with the little boy. One look at him, and, mi hermano, he is yours.”
Responding to his continual silence, she added. “It was not hard to find him.”
“What made you think that I would care, if the child was living in America?”
“I knew you were watching that boy and waiting to take him at the right time. Am I wrong? I suspected with the dawn arrival, you had arrived to do just that, so I had to act.”
“So, Rayna, what do I have to do to get my son back?”
She sat forward on the edge of the seat and leaned on the small desk. “You must help Father.”
“How?”
“King Ferdinand is ruled by the camarilla, composed of priests and nobles.”
“Including Father.”
“Si, but the king has become paranoid and suspects revolutionaries at every turn. He wants you back. There are rumors that you might be a comuneros.”
“How would he hear this of me?”
“The captain general of Cuba suspects you as a revolutionist, but the king respects Father and is not quick to believe the general.”
“King Ferdinand nullified the constitution and he didn’t expect an argument?”
“Not from the ruling class, which you are, may I remind you.” Rayna readjusted her position with a slight wiggle on the chair. “The king has purged the noble class. Anyone in disagreement has been put to death. Now because of you, Father is in a precarious position.”
“I don’t care about Father’s position. What do I have to do to get my son back?”
“Return to Spain. Convince the king that you are not a comuneros.”
“I have to save Father to get my son back.”
“Si.” Rayna leaned back in the chair, looking more frustrated than victorious. A look he recognized, having seen it many times in the past. While growing up, their father had always been busy with politics, leaving Donato in charge of the estate. Rayna had to take orders from him, and more than once he had seen that same expression.
“And if the king does not believe me? I will lose my head, and what happens to my son?”
“It will take little to convince him. He wants to make an appointment of you.”
“For what?”
“I do not know exactly, but Father suspects it will be to assist in the intentions of the Holy Alliance and the king to make Cuba a base of operations against the provinces of Spanish America that have revolted. He feels you know the islands, the people, a perfect
candidate, if the king believes you’re loyal to the Crown.”
“How do you gain from this, Rayna? I cannot believe it is only Father’s welfare that sent you across the ocean.”
“Donato, you are a fool. If Father is stripped of his title, his life, so goes his fortune. I will not be reduced to a peasant by him or you. I will protect what is mine and the riches and luxury in which I live. If you do not accept this appointment, you will destroy us all. And that, mi hermano, is where your son comes in.”
“You would harm a little boy?”
“No, I would not, but send him away I would. You and his mother would never see him again. Leverage.”
“So King Ferdinand financed this flotilla.”
“That is not of concern, except to say he is most anxious to speak with you, but a little wary, as well. But you will convince him otherwise, I am sure.” When he didn’t answer, Rayna seemed to interpret his silence as capitulation. “This is the plan. We will continue to Cádiz. Before we enter port, we will transfer you to our ship.”
“The boy’s mother will not be left behind.”
Rayna rolled her eyes. “She is French.”
“Father aligned himself with the French when convenient.”
“I know you blame Father for many things, but he did what he must to keep us safe, you and me. Without him doing that, we’d be dead. Which is why Spain is not a safe place for a French woman, especially in Cádiz. The peasants have killed many for nothing more than being French.”
Donato had managed to keep his temper controlled through the entire discussion, but worked hard to subdue it now. Without half trying, his voice hardened, and his eyes narrowed on his sister. “Into this chaos, you have brought my son.”
She straightened her posture and drew a deep breath. For the first time since she arrived, he saw a crack in her armor. “Politics, Your Excellency.”
“Backstabbing and betrayal. Let’s get it right. Change of plan. I will sail my own ship into port. This would be so much easier for you if I were a willing participant, correct?”
“Si, Donato—Your Excellency.”
“Then to make that happen, you must do something for me. A measure of good faith.”
“Which is?”
“Let Colette visit her child.”
Rayna’s face paled a little, making him wonder who was really making the decisions. If the king financed the voyage, others were involved. She shook her head. “Not possible.”
“Then I will be most disagreeable and put you at risk. I will implicate you in all my follies. We will face the executioner’s ax together.”
“You speak foolishly.” She glanced away from him, then back. “I will see what I can arrange and send my answer in the morning.”
“Agreed. Do you not concern yourself with retribution from me?”
“Your Excellency, there is nothing you can do to me. At least at the moment.”
“You have betrayed me, Rayna. Do not make a second mistake by underestimating me.”
“Do you mean as you have underestimated me? You refused to communicate.”
“We’ve communicated enough for today.” Donato rose to his feet. “You have me, Rayna, but only if Colette sees her son. I will go to Spain and pretend to be the loyal candidate for the sake of my son and Colette. If I succeed, I will gain in power. Be careful, Rayna. I will retaliate. You will know you have betrayed me.”
“I am so impressed, hermano.” She pushed to her feet, attempting to stand nose to nose with him despite her petite height. “Then an actor you must be. If you fail, you will face the executioner’s ax, and you’ll be too dead to retaliate. The French woman will never see her son again.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I want you, Donato. Our days have passed.”
Colette glanced up and watched his expression, which told her little, but his arms were still around her. Finally, he breathed a slow, quiet breath that fluttered along the side of her cheek.
He had relayed the conversation with his sister and what Rayna wanted of him but after that had remained unusually quiet. His silence worried her, knowing he was from a world she did not completely understand. She knew continuing on to Spain was their only option. She’d go whether she understood what was happening or not, because of her son. But as a French woman, she wanted to enter her husband’s country as one, a unified front. As dangerous as this would be, she needed to know how Donato felt, not in his words, but in his heart. He had said he wanted her, but without a mended heart, how secure was their alliance? Did he forgive her for taking Enio? Or were broken emotions hovering just beneath his facade to coalesce into betrayal or revenge? With a man like Donato, there was only one way to know: his touch. Lovemaking was a universal language and the language her body wanted to speak.
Donato ran his curled fingers along the side of her face, then lowered his lips to hers. He briefly touched her mouth before he spoke. “How decadent we’ve become, Colette. It is just past ten in the morning. I have a ship to sail.”
“I have a man to love.” Oh, how easily that came out, surprising even herself. She played with the hair at the back of his neck, threading her fingers in and around the shiny ebony tresses that waved to his shoulders. “What sailing needs to be done when in the wake of your sister’s ship?”
Colette rose to her tiptoes and returned his kiss with her own, trying to steal the breath from his lungs into hers.
She needed his strength.
She needed to claim Donato as hers.
She needed to believe in them, together.
Perhaps he was right. Separate from each other, they were gunpowder and flint. Together they were explosive, but with a commitment to each other, they were a power that no mortal could deny. They were resolute, invincible, an unconquerable force that would save their son and themselves.
Donato allowed the kiss, rewrapping her in his arms and taking charge. It was a kiss meant to awaken every eager muscle in her body, to align his passion with hers, and she luxuriated in the heat of his touch. His hands migrated down her body, sliding and journeying over every curve, as if she were virgin terrain never trespassed by man. But he had been there before, exploring, lovingly touching her body as if she were more than a beautiful piece of art. Would now feel the same after so much had happened between them?
“You make this too easy, Colette—makes me wonder what plan you have.”
“No plan. I believe we must be together to enter your country and get our son out.”
He tensed, his movement halted, and she immediately regretted her words. She had made a mistake, knowing her attempt to solidify an alliance sounded more like a proposition than about two people whose love for each other would fortify them through the future challenges.
He stepped away, and the cool air skimmed over her body with a chill. “So you offer to give yourself to me, to buy my allegiance?”
“No, that is not what I meant.”
But the hardened darkness of his eyes showed that reasoning would not be easy.
“You think you must sell yourself to me to ensure I will protect you in Spain?”
She had started to retreat until he made that accusation, bringing forward a rush of memories of an auction block, a dingy tavern, the rancid smell of ale and pork, and men bidding on her. She blinked from the images. “You did buy me, Donato. I was sold to you.”
She wasn’t sure why that suddenly became an important distinction or why it would have to be said now, but out her mouth it came.
A hint of a reaction flitted through his eyes. He widened his distance from her.
“I bought you to get you out of a dangerous situation, not to make you my slave. Was that what it was to you? Is that why you left when your brother came with his dramatic rescue?”
“No, that is not what I meant, but I need to know, Donato, that you are with me and together we will get Enio home.”
“Because you don’t trust me or because I own you?”
He lifted her in his
arms and tossed her on the bed. Before she could catch her breath, he was on top of her. He pulled her arms up over her head and straddled her body. “Is this what I did? Take you against your will?”
“No, that is not true.”
“Did you hate it, Colette? Every intimate minute with me, every time I touched you?”
“No, no, Donato, that is not what I meant.”
“Did you accept this only because I owned you?” He leaned down and kissed her, but it lacked the gentleness of before and became demanding, and though it hurt her lips, her heart started to hammer with his closeness. She couldn’t help inhaling the scent of him with the mint soap he used to bathe in the wee hours of the morning, while she slept, or feel the recently shaved skin of his face.
“No,” she whispered.
“And this?” Holding her arms over her head, he sucked the lobe of her ear before settling into the hollow of her throat. There, he dropped light kisses along each collarbone and ran his hand over her breasts. Her body started to move without her consent, rolling with a heat she couldn’t deny. She sucked in air, trying to grasp why he was angry and why she so craved his touch.
“And this?” He tore open the bodice of her gown and chemise and exposed her breasts. Her nipples pulled tight in anticipation. He rolled his tongue over their pointed nubs; his hot breath soaked her breasts like butter on a hot roll.
“No.” She arched her back toward him, unable to feel as much of him as she wanted. “I found pleasure when with you.”
He heard her and freed her arms, allowing them to drift down and over his shoulders. She turned her fingers into the rippling muscles of his back and ran them along his shoulder blades, as she anointed each collarbone of his with a kiss. The burn of his skin now against her bare breasts sent a spark that flitted down to her belly and spread outward in search of release.
“And this? Colette, can you deny this?” His voice had softened to barely a whisper as he reached down and pulled up the hem of her cotton dress. The flames from his touch swirled up around her body, then dived into that unprotected spot that tried to keep her passion in check.
“I cannot deny, nor do I wish to.” Her hands fell along his arms, feeling the muscles glide with his movement. His full weight was atop her now, but she wanted him closer, inside her.
