“Just like you would be. I know what you are sacrificing for me.” She paused. “I know you never wanted to return to Greece.”
His chest clenched at the look of pity in her eyes. Hestia thought he was doing this for her and her father. In a way he was, but he’d jumped at rescuing her father for his own selfish reasons. Revenge drove him.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hestia. You definitely do not need to thank me.” Her mouth twisted up on one side and he knew she did not believe him, but there was no way in hell he was going to reveal his plan to go after Murad.
Anger spurred him to say something when he should have bitten his tongue. “You think I’m some kind of hero because I rescued you all those years ago. You have no idea who I really am. I’m just a man.”
She stood and moved around the table to stand at his side. Cupping his chin, she stared into his eyes for what seemed forever. “True. You’ve only ever let me know the hero; I’d love to know the man.”
Then she bent and placed a soft kiss to his lips before abruptly turning and leaving the cabin.
“No you wouldn’t,” he whispered to the empty cabin. A wave of unease crept over his skin. He didn’t want her to know the man beneath his facade, because she would be very disappointed if not disgusted.
“I’d love to know the man.” It was a husky entreaty in her voice that filled him with such longing. He almost believed she might forgive him his trespasses.
His body was tearing itself up inside. He hated wanting her when he knew he did not deserve her. A feeling of such loss overcame him and it was so painful he almost doubled over, laying his head on the table.
This is what he had feared. She would needle her way under his skin and his resolve would be shaken. He pushed back his chair, not caring that it crashed behind him. He gripped the table as a dizzy wave of longing gripped him. He took a few deep breaths and felt the power of the ship beneath his feet. His resolve was back. No happy ending, just his revenge—that’s all he could see, all he’d allow himself to see, of his future.
Then he strode for the deck, feelings of self-loathing suffocating him. He burst out onto the deck, tears in his eyes, his chest heaving for fresh, cool, air. He knew without a sliver of doubt that he was doing the right thing for Hestia. Protecting her. Protecting her not only against Fredrick, but also from becoming tied to a man who saw nothing but hate, death, and revenge.
His body filled with pain, smothering the ache of his physical need for release. The call of the laudanum bottle could be heard above the sounds of the rigging, but he’d sworn off the drops until Murad was dead. Then he could lose himself in a dream world. A world where he had a chance at happiness with a woman he might have been able to love, if Murad had not twisted his heart and soul into something black and evil all those years ago.
He should feel at peace with his decision, but he knew it was one more thing to hate himself for. In his cowardice at facing a future that he might never have, he would hurt her.
And he’d never forgive himself for that.
—
Fear. So much fear.
That’s what she saw when she looked into Alex’s eyes. She had never considered a man like Alex would be afraid of anything, but until four years ago she never knew men like Murad existed. Being held captive for only a few days still gave her nightmares, yet Alex had been his captive for over two years.
Sick to her stomach with guilt, she made her way to David’s cabin to help with the sailors’ medical needs.
This was her fault. She should never have gone to Alex for help. She knew the type of man he was and knew he would never have refused her.
That’s what appealed about Alex. He was handsome as sin on the outside, strong, chiseled jaw, but he was soft and lovable on the inside. His warmth and humility drew her like a moth to a brightly burning flame.
Well, she’d wanted to learn more about him and she had. He had fears and nightmares.
She vowed to protect him as much as she could. She bit her lip. What if when they got to Mallorca she paid to send a message to her father? Perhaps Jacob could help her find someone reliable. Then she would instruct Alex to return home. Her father, once warned, would have to take responsibility for his own safety.
If something happened to Alex because he was helping her father, she would never forgive herself.
Chapter 10
Through extreme willpower, which was constantly tested on board what seemed to be his shrinking ship—even a seventy-four-gun ship was too small to escape her—Alex managed to avoid Hestia over the following days. Her flowery orange blossom scent warned him of her close proximity. Whenever the scent wafted on the air, it gave him ample time to make himself scarce.
Over the last few nights he’d had little sleep, and what sleep he got was filled with visions of her soft, naked, and pliant body begging him to give her pleasure, but just as he reached for her, she’d laugh and run away.
Of all the bad luck, yesterday he’d accidentally walked in on her bathing in the tub room. He had not expected her to be up so early, the sun had just risen, and he’d come off the night watch.
She’d been standing naked in the middle of the tub reaching for a small towel on the stool nearby. Her skin shone in the sunlight coming through the porthole. He quickly closed the door before she knew he was there.
Why had he not knocked?
Because he was busy planning how to kill Murad.
Tonight, that one glimpse of perfection had his body at fever pitch. For the past few years a fully clothed Hestia had lingered in his waking thoughts, while an imaginary sensual Hestia had sometimes shared his dreams. Gowned she was enough to drive a man to distraction, but now he’d seen her stripped bare—his vivid and overactive imagination from lack of feminine company, burst into life. He could almost feel her heavenly body under his lips and hands. He’d wanted to touch her soft silken skin and enter her womanly heat—she was infinitely more arousing than anything he’d imagined.
Sleep was now torture. He’d had to take himself in hand, literally, something he hadn’t done since he’d been a young schoolboy. His fingers itched like stinging nettle to use the laudanum he had tucked away in his trunk. He wanted to succumb to its mind-dulling effects, and he hadn’t felt such a powerful pull in over four years. Not since he’d saved Hestia.
Her continual presence was enough to push him over the edge; the urge to take something to send him into restful dreamland was growing day by day.
So most nights he did more than his fair share of manning the helm. The hours passed slowly while he did his best not to think about the vibrant woman below deck, letting the cold night air cool his heated body.
Not long before dawn, after one such long wearisome night, as his crew began stirring, Jacob arrived at his side with a mug of steaming tea.
“You need this, and you need some sleep. You’ll wear yourself out. We have plenty of men to take over the helm at night. Go below deck and get some sleep.” With a raised eyebrow he added, “I don’t want you doing something stupid.”
Alex’s temper flared. “It’s my ship, I’ll do what I like, when I like.”
He heard Jacob’s impatient sigh.
“That woman’s got you wound tighter than an old lady’s ball of yarn. Let alone your focus on Murad. You’re worse than a man who’s been in prison ten years with no female company, if you know what I mean. Always told you women on ships were a mistake. She’s definitely leading us into trouble.”
Alex’s tired body became instantly alert. “Tell me.”
“There’s a sloop that’s been tracking us.”
“Why didn’t you inform me before?”
Jacob shook his head. “I wasn’t sure before, but I changed our course a couple of times and she’s followed. She never gets closer, just keeps her distance; the ship’s definitely tacking with us.”
Jacob handed Alex the spyglass he’d been holding. “She’s on the port aft.”
Alex raised the spyglass in the directio
n and squinted. It was a sloop all right, so no immediate danger to Angelica, which could blow her out of the water.
Alex’s weary brain tried to make sense of it. Why would anyone send a sloop after a ship this size?
“She has no markings I recognize. There’s only one reason a sloop would be following us. They want to keep an eye on you and the girl, tracking what you are up to. Alex, what’s so important about this girl’s father?”
Alex’s blood curdled—Fredrick. It had to be. He was the only one who benefited if Alex didn’t find the earl. Perhaps the ship was meant to delay, or worse, hinder him? But why a sloop? It had speed over the Angelica, but only in a short sprint. His ship being bigger and heavier would take time to tack and get up to speed, but there was no way the smaller ship could outrun her on the open ocean. And his cannons could blow the sloop to pieces.
Ignoring Jacob’s question, Alex said, “We should be in Mallorca sometime tomorrow. We shall see if the sloop weighs anchor too. If so, we’ll do some investigating.”
“A sloop’s built for quick short bursts. If it’s up to mischief, it’s unlikely to engage us until we’re around the Greek islands. It could lose us fairly quickly and hide anywhere in the many islands surrounding Corfu, for instance.”
Through clenched teeth Alex said, “At least they won’t have the element of surprise. Nice work, my friend.”
“I’ll put the men on alert. There’s no way they can attack our ship, so I’m supposing they’ll wait until we go ashore. I suggest Lady Hestia remain on the ship when at port. With an armed guard.”
Alex’s gut tightened at the thought Hestia could be in danger. “I had promised her she could go ashore.” But he wouldn’t put anything past Fredrick, considering his previous threat to carry her off. Alex breathed a sigh of relief. If it was Fredrick, he’d greatly underestimated himself sending a sloop after a ship as powerful as Angelica. He could blow it out of the water.
“Now go to your cabin and get some sleep. We need you fighting fit.” With that Jacob took the helm and Alex headed below determined to if not sleep, at least rest. Hopefully this new threat would take his mind off Hestia and the relief her body could give him.
—
Deep in worry, neither Jacob nor Alex had any inkling their conversation was being closely followed.
Connor watched Alex stride off to go to his cabin or to his fancy stateroom. Having overheard the two men’s conversation, Connor was relieved. They’d not guessed Fredrick’s plan even though they’d spotted the sloop.
With an evil glint in his eye, Connor slipped into darkness; he had a plan of his own. Fredrick Cary wanted Hestia abducted, but she was to remain unhurt and untouched.
He licked his lips. How stupid was Cary? Connor’s body burned hot for the golden-haired beauty, ever since she’d stood up to him that day on the poop deck. By God he’d have her too. He’d have her screaming with pleasure; she’d be well used by the time he’d finished with her. He’d never had a well-bred lady before. His body felt like it was on fire whenever he smelled her perfumed scent. She was so fresh and virginal. His cock throbbed between his legs. He’d never had a virgin either. His head filled with images of what he’d do to her, how he’d teach her what a real man was, not some strutting peacock of a duke.
Then, and only then, would he hand her to Cary. The woman would never tell anyone what he’d done to her, for she’d be too ashamed. It would ruin her. By the time his lordship realized she’d been soiled, Connor O’Laughlin would be long gone.
Killing His Grace would pose a bigger problem. He never seemed to be on his own. He decided he’d have to strike once Bedford was on shore. Connor knew Bedford’s appetites for sinful pleasures; once a rake always a rake. Connor’s plan hinged on Bedford wanting a woman as soon as his feet hit land. What man wouldn’t want to sink between soft, plump thighs after being around Lady Hestia for days? She had men fit to burst, and he knew Bedford was no different. That’s why his lordship spent all night at the helm.
Yes, Bedford would head straight for a woman. Bedford would be dead before he could get his cock out of his breeches. And the conversation he’d just overheard was exactly what they wanted to happen. It was Connor’s plan all along to get her confined to the ship. They didn’t want her on shore.
Connor stroked himself. He’d turn the tables on the teasing slut. He’d have her begging for it. Very soon he’d be driving her wild. He halted his hand; now was not the time to relieve himself, he’d save it all for her. His anger mounted with his frustration, and he turned; he had to find Patrick and go over their plan.
Chapter 11
Leaning on the ship’s rail, Hestia couldn’t contain her excitement as she observed the approaching island of Mallorca in the late-afternoon sunshine. A huge mountain towered in the distance, the foothills sweeping down onto a flat plain of lush green vegetation ending with a pristine white beach and turquoise water.
The Angelica sailed into the large bay of Port Palma. On each side of the ship she glanced at the beautiful sight she’d remembered from her last time here. Sunlight danced on the waves as they raced for the shore and pounded against sand, white from all the crushed shells. Several ships were anchored in the natural harbor just offshore, and Hestia could make out the whitewashed buildings of the small settlement, set close to the shoreline.
A large pier jutted out into the bay, covered with scampering children and men fishing. The screech of seagulls filled the air.
She sighed with contentment. It would be good to feel the earth under her feet once more. She couldn’t wait to walk barefoot in the fine sand and dip her feet into the crystal clear blue water.
“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Alex said in her ear.
He must have moved up behind her while she’d been hypnotized by the natural beauty before her.
Still filled with guilt at making him take this trip, she silently cursed his velvet voice’s ability to give her chills even in this humidity. If David helped her she could end this perilous journey today. But once back in England her time with Alex would end.
Banishing the selfish thought, Hestia nodded. “But it seems a lifetime ago now.”
She heard Alex’s sigh. “Does it? It seems like only yesterday to me.”
Sadness cloaked every sound she heard in his voice. “How long will we be in port?” she asked.
He turned to her then and flashed one of his rare smiles that never failed to turn her insides to mush.
“Long enough to reload supplies and for the men to get some time on shore to relax and unwind.”
She giggled excitedly. “I know just how they feel. I can’t wait to be back on dry land and go shopping.”
She felt Alex stiffen beside her. “Ah, I know I said earlier that you could, but that is no longer possible. Did Mr. Foxhall not inform you that you cannot go ashore?”
She swung to face him. “No, he did not. Why can’t I? I’ll take Jacob with me if you’re worried.”
“Jacob spotted a sloop that looks as if it’s trailing us. It is too dangerous for you to leave the ship in case they too have berthed at Palma. It would be too easy to snatch you.”
“Oh, how disappointing.”
He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to stare into her eyes. “Do I have to remind you that you agreed to obey me? Please be sensible about this, Hestia, I have urgent business on shore and I don’t want to have to worry about your safety.”
She shivered in the warm sun. “I shall stay on board. I have no desire to be snatched again.” There went her plan to try to hire a reputable person to find her father. She had been polishing up her Spanish for a week or more. Perhaps David could do it for her?
Before she could ask where Mr. Foxhall was, Alex turned and walked away muttering under his breath about having to do everything himself. He was calling for Jacob to get a move on.
Two sailors walked past sniggering. “Urgent business. Oh, aye, getting a willing female beneath me is very
urgent business.” And they laughed raucously as they went on their way.
Surely not? Surely Alex had more important duties than…Jealousy sparked a deep cut in her chest, but she could hardly begrudge him. The journey they were on was dangerous and one never knew what tomorrow might bring.
She thought about her life. If something were to happen to her, what would she regret?
Nothing like facing your mortality to see clearly. She would regret never experiencing passion. She wanted to say experiencing passion with Alex, and she was sure that would be heaven. But quite frankly, why she would sit waiting for a man who obviously did not find her desirable, when she was sure a man like David did?
She wondered if David was going ashore. She hoped not. Perhaps she should take the opportunity to experience some passion, a few kisses at least. Innocent enough. It would at least tell her if she only wanted Alex or if she was brave enough to move on, stop wasting her life, and look for a man who did find her attractive.
She spied Jacob and called out, “Do you know where Mr. Foxhall is?”
He stopped and looked at her closely. “Mr. Foxhall is staying on board to go over his medicinal supplies and make a list of those he’ll need for the rest of the voyage.”
She nodded. He would be on board. “I’ll help him.”
“Help who?”
Swinging around, she faced Alex’s granite features.
“I was just explaining to Lady Hestia that Mr. Foxhall would be on board should she need help,” Jacob murmured just as David appeared from the hatchway.
Alex cleared his throat before saying, “Send a man ashore with your list, Foxhall, and I’ll ensure we get your supplies.”
David stepped forward. “If you would do me the honor, Lady Hestia, I have set up the chess set in the stateroom. I’m free for a game once I’ve checked my supplies.”
Hestia could see it written quite plainly on Foxhall’s face that he did not mind being left on board—with her.
“Thank you, kind sir, that would be perfect. It is a lovely day and I intend to enjoy it awhile longer, and the view from on deck is amazing.” With that she turned to Alex. “Don’t let me keep you from your important business on shore.”
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