“I can take you to Montserrat once we unload the treasure. I can help explain the kind of man Roche is, help them see it wasn’t your fault.”
“You would do such a thing for me?”
Hell, he’d do almost anything for her, but he kept silent. Until he sorted through a few things, he had as little to offer her as he did his sisters.
“Aye,” he said simply.
Grace dropped her chin but not before he saw it tremble as she suppressed her tears.
“Grace—”
“I think for now, I’ll just pen them a letter, explain what happened, and offer my deepest apologies. ’Twill take me years to earn me passage and if you’d be willing to take the letter with you, then ’twould give them enough time to decide if they want to see me before I leave for Ireland.”
“Of course, they’re going to want to see you, Grace. They’re going to be thrilled you’re alive. They will have suffered these months, not knowing where you were, whether you were hurting, sick, dead, or dying.” He moved to the porthole, letting his gaze drift on the waves. He didn’t hear her move, didn’t know she had, until he felt her hand on his shoulder.
“’Tis what you live with each day, isn’t it, the not knowing? Do you think they’re alive?”
Did he truly believe Catherine and Caden to be alive? He remembered courting Catherine, how shy she’d been at first, but how open and honest she’d become. He always knew when she was happy, sad, or angry, because she was forthright enough to tell him. And he with her. When they’d pledged their lives to each other, lost a child together, and then welcomed Caden, he knew what she’d been feeling. Love had burst from her eyes and it had enveloped him.
He’d never doubted her. Not once. When he’d needed to go to sea, she’d wished him well and kissed him with all the love in her heart. Later, when the treasure began to consume him, she’d laughed and encouraged him to go and had been eager to hear all his stories when he’d returned. Did he wish they were alive? With every breath he took. But did he believe they were?
“No,” he said. “I know Catherine and if she were alive, she’d have found a way to let me know.” He blew out a breath. “I can admit to having had a niggling doubt at the back of my mind. Was she, wasn’t she? But having you ask, having to dig and really consider, I have no doubt. Whatever happened to her, whoever took her, I will never know. But I do believe she’s gone.”
And with that belief came a little more healing.
It was a natural thing to draw her into his arms. She’d braided her hair again and he wrapped the rope of it gently around his hand and used the leverage to raise her face to his. He lowered his mouth to hers, swept a soft kiss over her lips. He’d intended it as a way to thank her, to show her how much having her near changed him but, when he felt her hands curl into his shirt, heard the catch in her breath, heard his name sighing through her perfect mouth, Cale’s good intentions spun out of control.
He cupped her face, drew her to him. Her scent surrounded him and her taste, even the small sampling he’d just had, had him yearning for more.
“Open for me.” He ordered and when her lips trembled open, his tongue slicked against hers as he feasted on the many tastes of Grace Sullivan. Sweet, sass, and the subtleties in between built a raging need in him. He slid his hands down her neck, brushed the outside of her breasts and locked onto her hips. She was already flush against him but he pulled her closer, pressed his hips against hers.
“Cale!”
Even through all their clothes, he swore he felt her wetness, her need. He was hard and ready, his muscles bunched beneath her fingers as she clung to his shoulders.
He swept her into his arms, carried her to the berth. There wouldn’t be candles or moonlight. The sun’s beams crossed his bed in thick yellow bands that, along with the heat coming from him, would more than keep Grace warm. He could hardly wait to see her only bathed in sunlight.
Her mouth was as hungry as his, her body as restless. She seduced him with her lips, drove him crazy with her body, and yet, he knew there was more to their coming together than lust. Much more.
“Stay with me,” he said, his words stilling them both.
Grace drew away, or as much as she could with his body pressing hers into the mattress. Her eyes were wide, clear of the passion that had darkened them mere moments ago.
“What?”
What indeed. The words hadn’t been planned, they’d simply gone straight from his heart to his mouth but, now that he’d said them, he realized they were true. He wanted Grace with him.
“Stay with me. Once we drop off the treasure, we can sail to Montserrat, see your parents.”
She set her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes searched his. “And then what?”
His mind was whirring now. Possibilities and dreams he’d kept buried clawed their way to the surface. “I want a house again, a yard, a garden.” He was too busy planning to notice the look that came over her eyes.
“And what shall I be doing?”
“Well, you’ll have this child, likely more with time.” And he would love them all as he’d loved Caden.
She peered at him closely. “And Ireland?”
He smiled, kissed her nose. “We can make a trip there before I give the ship back to Luke.”
“A visit?”
“Yes. Then we can come back to the Caribbean, start on the house.”
“I see. And I’m to be going along as you’re whore, am I?”
Cale flinched as though slapped. Grace used his momentary distress to shove him away. She clambered to her feet and stormed as far away from him as the cabin would allow. By the time she got there, her chest was heaving. Cale stood as well though he kept his distance. Her anger was palpable and his, after her accusation, wasn’t far behind.
He pointed a finger at her, his voice rumbling. “I never claimed you were a strumpet and I’ve never treated you as such.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You just did. You never asked me what I wanted, never considered me feelings in any of it. Instead, you told me what I was going to do and how I was going to live me life. You even told me where I was going to live it, despite knowing all I’ve ever wanted was to go back home.” She hands balled into fists. “You did everything but throw me a coin.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. None of it was planned. The thought came out of my mouth before I even knew it was there.” He pulled a chair from the table. “Come sit. We can talk about what you want.”
Grace shook her head, drew her shoulders back. “There’s nothing to discuss. I thank you for your most generous offer, but I’ll be staying in Santo Domingo for now.”
“Grace, listen. You have a child to consider.”
“As I’m the one carrying it, I won’t be arguing.”
“Then you see that staying with me is what’s best. I can—”
Her eyes narrowed. “’Tis my child, not yours, and I’ll be the one deciding what’s best for it. What’s best for me.”
For a moment he couldn’t breathe. It would have been less painful had she stabbed him. Did she see nothing when she looked at him? How could she not know what he was risking by wanting to be with her? Had she felt nothing when they’d made love? Did she not see the changes in him since she’d come aboard? Changes he himself had felt?
When he’d first lost his family, his heart had bled until he’d had to close it off or die from the pain. Since having her on board, the shield had begun to fall away, piece by piece, gently easing his heart back into the world.
Only to once again have it ripped open. He’d shown her he cared in every way he knew. Hadn’t he been gentle? Hadn’t he shown her respect? He’d told her he’d wanted her in his life only to have her throw his offer back into his face.
“If ’tis all the same to you, I’d prefer if Aidan looked over me until we reach Santo Domingo.”
He swallowed the hurt, steeled his features, and prayed his face was as indifferent as he tried to make it.
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“I’ll send Aidan down.”
Tossing his dreams back into the hole he’d eased them from, once again closing himself from what he wanted most, Cale trudged up the ladder.
Chapter Fourteen
The moment the hatch banged shut Grace’s pride crumpled. Hugging herself close, she stumbled to the berth and sat, broken. How could he, after everything they’d shared, even consider she’d want to be his mistress?
He knew, damn him, what she’d gone through with Roche. And when she’d asked Cale to bed her, she’d told him it was to take away the ugliness of what Roche had done. And it had. Until now.
Roche had raped her, forced himself upon her and she’d had no choice in the matter. He’d taken her body but nothing else. But Cale…
Her heart, lungs, everything inside her hurt as his words went through her head. Never once had he told he cared for her. Never had he spoke of feelings, of what was in his heart. Of what she meant to him, if she even meant anything at all. When they’d made love, she’d given him her body. It wasn’t until after she’d realized she’d given him her heart as well.
With the story of his brother, then his wife and son, she’d given him a little more. With every touch, every kiss, she’d given him yet more. And when he’d spoken of not leaving her in Santo Domingo, her foolish heart had leapt, had dared think a true partnership with a man was possible.
She’d seen him take his crewman’s opinions and needs to heart. She’d seen him alter his course, take on extra duties, and work to keep his men happy. It hadn’t been so far a leap, then, to think they could have a good life together, one where he would continue to respect her, to consider her wants and dreams.
She knew he loved his wife still, despite her being lost to him. Knowing it, Grace had still considered a future together. Despite her many years vowing never to marry, never to lose her ability to dictate her own fate, she’d trusted Cale enough to believe she could have both with him.
Only he didn’t want marriage. And not once had he told her he loved her.
Her heart had crashed when he’d offered her nothing more than to be his trollop. Did he really think she deserved no more, or would settle for so little?
How cruel fate was to finally send her a man she could, and did, give her heart to, only to have that same man not love her in return.
*
Cale stormed onto the deck. The stiff breeze blew through his hair and beard but did nothing to cool him. He was boiling from within. She wanted Santo Domingo? By God, he’d get her there. As fast as his bloody ship could take them. He headed for the sails. There were ways to coax more speed from them and he intended to ensure they were all in place.
“Captain!”
Behind the wheel, Aidan signaled him over. Grim satisfaction curled Cale’s lip and he found himself hoping Aidan had spotted a ship. Full hold or not, Cale wanted a fight. He needed to hear the cannons roar, to smell burnt powder, and to look down the barrel at the enemy. He needed the fury of battle. Anything to unleash the churning emotions within him. He sprang up the stairs to the quarterdeck.
“Have a look,” Aidan said, passing him the looking glass and pointing starboard. “She’s been in our sights nigh on thirty minutes.”
Cale closed one eye, peered into the glass with the other. He trailed his sight on the white-capped water until the two-masted ship, what appeared to be a schooner, came into view. “She’s too far, I can’t see her colors.” In fact, she was too far to make out much of anything, other than the number of masts. He lowered the glass. “Thirty minutes, you say?”
“Nearly. And she hasn’t gotten any closer.”
“Has she moved out of sight?”
“Twice.”
“Seems odd.” Cale lifted the glass again but there truly wasn’t much to see.
The ship appeared nothing more than a toy bobbing on a distant horizon. He set his teeth in frustration. There would be no battle. If he could make out the other ship as a schooner, then they knew his was only a sloop. If they’d wanted a fight, they would have made a move by now. Which didn’t explain why it stayed just within sight.
However, as long as it wasn’t a threat, he wasn’t changing course.
“Watch the hatch for me.” He placed the glass back into its resting place. “I want to adjust the sails, I won’t be long.”
“I can do that, as can the crew.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Trying to slow us down? Delay our arrival in Santo Domingo?” Aidan grinned.
“No, speed it up.”
*
When Cale stepped foot on land, it was always with a sense of resignation and an itch to get it over with as soon as possible. It was far worse when his destination was Santo Domingo.
Here he felt the burden of ghosts.
Not only was Vincent buried here, though he’d yet to go to his grave, but whenever he walked into Nate and Claire’s home, a house filled with love and children, it was hard to pretend he hadn’t lost it all. With the passing of years, the pain had lessened, become more of a dull ache than a raw wound.
Today, however, would be different.
Because while losing Catherine and Caden was in his past, losing Grace and a chance to once again have what Nate and Claire had, was fresh. Too fresh.
He’d opened himself to Grace and knew he would never do so again. Going forward, he’d be alone. He looked about his cabin with its berth, shelves, and table and tried to imagine himself in five years time, ten. He couldn’t see it. All he saw was Grace.
“Perfect.” He sighed and tipped his head back.
In the beginning, the sea had been a refuge. It had taken him from his home in Nevis and the painful memories of what he’d lost there. On the ship, he could avoid children, didn’t have to face looking at happy families day in and day out. But now he didn’t even have that. Because the sea was where he’d met Grace. They’d made love on his berth. They’d made love on the quarterdeck. He couldn’t stay here, not with her memory everywhere.
But where in blazes was he to go?
The hatch opened. Cale looked over as the faint light of dusk and the smell of smoke spilled in. He recognized Aidan’s worn boot on the rung a moment before his voice confirmed Cale’s dread. “We’re here, Captain. Longboat has been lowered. You’re ready to go ashore.”
Squawk. “Going ashore. Going ashore.”
Cale had avoided Grace for the last day and a half by taking on his tasks and any others he could manage. When she wanted on the quarterdeck he made sure he found work elsewhere. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t even tried. He’d given her the cabin until she’d awakened this morning and come above deck. Then, under the guise of needing sleep, he’d come below.
But there was no hiding any longer. They were here. And Grace was leaving. He was once again going to lose what mattered to him. Only this time, he’d be there to witness the loss.
He pried his fingers away from the chair. I just have to get through today. Though how the hell he was going to manage when his chest felt as though it were being pried open he couldn’t say.
“Captain? You ready?”
No, he wasn’t. Damnation, he’d known it was coming and he’d convinced himself he was fine, that if she didn’t want him, well, he could live without her as well.
He’d lied.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure this is the way?” Grace asked.
“I’ve been here before, Grace.”
“In the dark?”
“Many times.” Every time.
He lifted some palm fronds that spanned the trail and waited until she’d passed beneath them before he let them fall. The footpath wasn’t a wide one but most of the vegetation crowding its corridor could easily be stepped over, walked through, or lifted aside. The route wasn’t well traveled, which made it the ideal path. Cale raised the lantern, illuminating the barely-noticeable walkway. The lizards, frogs, and other night creatures chirped on, undisturbed by their presence.
“And the others will be able to follow it?” she asked doubtfully.
“They would, as they’ve made the journey many times as well, but as it happens I’ll be with them. Once I’ve made introductions, I’ll leave you in Claire’s capable hands. Nate will return with me to help unload. By sunrise we’ll be done.”
“’Tis quite the procedure you’ve devised.”
“Yes.”
He heard her sigh a moment before her hand curled around his arm. “Cale.”
Cursing silently, he stopped, waited. She didn’t let go. Dammit, he should have expected it wouldn’t be as easy as dropping her with Claire and Nate. As though there was anything easy about that. Resigned, he turned, ensuring he kept the lantern low as not to blind her.
“You saved me life in more than ways than one. I’ve grown up in large part to you and, despite the last two days, I’ve been happier on your ship than I have since leaving Ireland. ’Twould mean a lot to me if we could part as friends.”
Friends. Damnation, she wasn’t making this easy and it would be much easier to part angry, to be able to hold onto the resentment rather than grieve the loss. If they parted mad, he could fool himself into thinking they never would have been happy together. He could convince himself great lovemaking was just that, and it didn’t mean he’d given her his heart. But leaving as friends? How could he walk away from her if they weren’t mad at each other? How could he walk away if she looked at him the way she was looking at him now? With her heart filling her eyes.
Hell, why couldn’t she have left things as they’d been? But as he wouldn’t be around to take care of her, to support her and her child, if this was all she asked of him, was it really so much? Besides, he didn’t want her fretting over how things were left between them. It wouldn’t do for her to worry so.
Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance Page 18
