Pure Temptation

by Auria Jourdain

  “Did I have a choice? If you’d keep your mouth shut, we wouldn’t have to be so forthright.”

  Glancing at the ground, Alberto rubbed his balding head, now two shades of pink. “Sí, I didn’t think that through. The man makes me nervous. Aren’t you upset that your life is in danger?”

  Wrinkling her nose, Talia waved him off. “Bah, I already knew of DuPont’s plan.”

  “How? When?” Alberto sputtered.

  “Ricardo filled me in before we left Lisbon. What does it matter? We never planned on meeting the scoundrels anyway.”

  “I’m begging you to be careful with Señor Barberry. There is much we don’t know about this situation. I do not trust him.”

  Talia shrugged. “I’m not fussed. Alliances, mon ami. That’s what it takes to win the war. Now that I have you and Monsieur Barberry at my side, what could go wrong?”

  What indeed?

  As he paced the room like a man turning a cistern, she glared at him. Giving him a sidelong glance, she grabbed her parasol and went to the door.

  She thought she knew Alberto Vargas, but his slip of the tongue had sent her instincts on high alert. True, he wasn’t the smartest agent she’d worked with. But surely, he wasn’t that dumb. She didn’t trust him, and until she discovered what was happening, she’d have to be careful.

  Hopefully, their new cohort wasn’t as deceptive. Unlike her partner’s, Talon’s anger had seemed genuine upon discovering that he might be a pawn. The man had scruples and a strong sense of honor. Her instincts said she could put her faith in him.

  Talon Barberry, the Infiltrator. The virile, handsome rogue sent tingles singing through her like a symphony just by his name alone.

  Sucking in a breath, she picked up her skirts and hastily exited the cabin. Why did the man get to her so easily? She couldn’t let desire control her. If this mission were to succeed, she needed complete focus. No man was worth such folly. In two months, she’d be in Paris with her mother where she belonged.

  “Oui, that is all that matters.” Fanning herself, she opened the door and strolled onto the deck to enjoy the beautiful August sunshine.

  Chapter 9

  THE TIDES WERE STRONG with the light of the full moon. From her hiding place beneath the lifeboats, Talia watched Talon cross the deck and stand at the opposite rail of the ship. She smiled, warmth spreading through her veins. The night watchman had stalked by recently, but she hadn’t counted on seeing Talon this evening.

  It was certainly to her benefit.

  He really is quite handsome.

  Ogling the man, Talia sighed. His well-muscled physique bulged beneath his shirt gaping open in the front to reveal a scant amount of dark hair on his chest. His tanned skin hid any imperfections he might have, and she wished she could feel his skin for herself. Although he had his back turned, she could picture his coal black eyes, flecked with silver, burning with desire every time he looked at her.

  Suddenly, he lifted a pail of water and poured the contents over his clothing. She stifled a giggle. He was soaked to the bone. No longer able to sit idle, she abandoned her post and silently ambled up next to him.

  CURSING UNDER HIS BREATH, Talon threw the bucket across the deck as the waves lapped noisily against the side of the ship. He’d had no choice but to abandon his hammock. He couldn’t stop thinking about Talia Montrose and her sensuous beauty. Unfortunately, the lukewarm water hadn’t quelled his desire in the least.

  It had been three days since the tart had exposed her identity to him. Since then, she’d occupied his every thought. Not since Lina had he been enticed by a woman. He avoided the fairer sex like the plague because they’d caused him nothing but pain.

  But Talia was different. Despite her portrayal of such, she wasn’t a spoiled, rich girl. She could match wits with any man. And obviously, she cared about others. Why would she risk her life to save her friend’s?

  She’s a rebel with a need for adventure, just like me.

  That notion stirred more emotions in him than he’d expected. She was complicated, independent, and simply the most captivating woman he had ever met. His cock hardened at the thought of her lying in the captain’s cabin in a thin nightdress, her supple curves visible through her gown. “Bloody fool.”

  A soft shuffling from behind caught his attention, and without warning, a pair of slight arms snaked up around his chest. “Bon soir, Monsieur.”

  “Jesus!” Whipping around, Talon grasped Talia firmly by the arm. She’d donned men’s breeches and a billowy white shirt that hid her well-endowed figure, just as she had the night in the slave hold.

  As his manhood pulsed against his breeches, he turned his body toward the rail. “What in God’s name are you doing out here? Are you spying on me?”

  Breaking free of his grasp, Talia laughed, her musical voice carrying on the wind. “Non, Monsieur. I have better things to do with my time. What of you? What brings you out this beautiful evening?” She regarded his clothing, her eyes sparkling sensually. “And pray tell, why are you wet?”

  Talon muttered under his breath and gazed at the stars. Don’t engage her. She’ll get bored and go away.

  Talia leaned closer to him and whispered, “Bon. Don’t tell me. I’m on duty this evening. I’ve heard there is to be a clandestine meeting between Perez and Hidalgo, and I want to know what they have planned.”

  Talon lifted his brow as curiosity got the better of him. “Indeed? And would your partner be involved with this as well?”

  Pressing her lips into a thin line, she stared at the water. “Je ne sais pas. I hardly know the man.”

  He snorted. “How does a woman end up with such an escort without feeling some sense of loyalty?”

  She leaned against the rail. “Alberto has already breached my trust. Would you put your faith in him?”

  Talon brushed his hand across his neck and sighed. “Nay. I haven’t from the start.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a key. “Marcus and I have been conspiring for a few days.”

  She frowned. “What is this?”

  “The key to Perez’ quarters. We obtained it after I discovered the man’s allegiance to DuPont. It might yield something of value.”

  With a hum, she nodded. “‘In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.’ You’re good at your job, Monsieur.”

  Talon’s brow lifted as he looked at her incredulously. This woman touted an air of maturity that surpassed most of the men with whom he’d served. She couldn’t have been more than twenty, but her skills were impressive. She seemed overly familiar with the male species, and yet she exuded innocence. It was the perfect cover for a covert operation.

  Aye, she’s a beautiful mystery to be sure.

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “How old are you, Miss Montrose?”

  Feigning offense, Talia delicately tapped his arm with her fan. “You aren’t supposed to ask a lady her age, Monsieur. However, I never claimed to be.” She smiled devilishly. “I’m all of two and twenty.”

  Talon smirked. She’s just a tot. “You seem terribly worldly, Miss.”

  Talia dismissed his comment with a haughty toss of her hair. “And you’re a bit old to be running around the world on clandestine missions. Why not settle down with a family? At your age, you could have a dozen beautiful grandchildren scampering at your feet.”

  Her insults grated under his skin like an irritating rash. Talon growled, “You insolent woman, I’m not that old.”

  Patting his shoulder, she laughed merrily. “Come now. Haven’t you ever been teased?” Tilting her head, she hummed. “I do wonder, though, Monsieur... You’re an Englishman. Why help the French?” Folding his arms over his chest, Talon raised his brow and stared at her. She cleared her throat. “Alberto has regaled me with your life story, sir. Your activities during the revolution, and your adventures with your cousin, your Spanish heritage—need I go on?”

  Scanning the rough waters, Talon smirked. Apparently, Vargas doesn’t know everything. “If you
say so.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means Alberto hasn’t given you the whole truth, not that he’s aware of it.” Talon gazed into her magnificent emerald eyes. “I am no Spaniard.”

  Talia reached out a long finger, wrapping a curl of his dark hair around the tip, just as he’d done to her weeks ago. His blood pumped with desire as she placed the other palm against his bare chest. Raking her nails over his nipples, she gazed up at him seductively. “If not a Spaniard, what are you?”

  Her flowery scent drifted through the air, weaving its way through his senses. Her touch had him harder than the wooden mast towering in front of them. Hell and damnation, he was losing control.

  Gripping Talia’s waist, he pulled her closer. As her lithe body melted against him, her sensual presence drew him in like a magnet until his mouth was poised right above hers. Staring hungrily at her rosy red lips, Talon husked, “I am Romani.” And he covered her mouth with his.

  Whimpering, she opened her mouth to his intrusion and twined her arms around his neck. He gripped her tighter, gently exploring the softness of her full lips. He deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers. With each taste of her velvety depths, a fire blazed from within his soul.

  Her hands sifted through his hair, untying the rope that held it back. As she ran her long, delicate fingers through the strands, he groaned.

  Her body pressed against his, intimately woven with his own. Her firm breasts heaved against the linen shirt, enticing him to touch her. As he ran his hands over her perfect curves, his thumbs swept over her barely clad nipples, hardening against the lightweight garment.

  Pulling her blouse from her right shoulder, he blazed a trail of kisses along her delicate neck. As the tops of her perfect breasts heaved, he cupped their fullness.

  She moaned. “Oui, Talon. Touch me.”

  His cock jumped, threatening to escape its confines. As his erect form touched her hip, she gasped. Untying his breeches, she grazed his hardness brazenly.

  He growled low in his throat. “Bloody hell, woman.”

  Her nails scraped across the hair at his midsection in response. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as her fingers breached the confines of his smallclothes. He was starving—he hadn’t been with a woman in years. Crew be damned, he wanted nothing more than to take her right here on the deck of the ship.

  “Eleven O’clock and all’s well!”

  As the dog watch called out their position, Talon tore himself from Talia’s grasp. “Nay!” Tears whispered in her eyes at his gruff bark. Embracing her, he kissed her long, graceful neck and whispered, “We can’t do this, love—not here. Wandering eyes and ears, remember?”

  Her hands flew to her crimson cheeks, shame penetrating her brilliant gaze. Gasping for breath, she pulled her shirt closed and pushed out of his arms. “Mon dieu, what must you think of me?”

  Talon frowned. This demure act was a definite change from the sultry woman he’d held in his arms a few moments ago. All the same, he didn’t want to make her feel bad. He, too, had been shocked by the depth of their attraction.

  “Talia, look at me.” She refused to turn around, so he pulled her against his chest. Her firm derriere brushed his rock-hard cock, and he kissed her neck. “You didn’t offend me, love. You just took me by surprise.”

  Turning around, Talia stepped out of his arms and wiped her eyes. “Merci, Talon. You are more than gracious. I—”

  Footsteps plodded toward them from the quarterdeck, and they snapped back to reality. Talon laced his fingers with hers, kissing the tips. “Come. I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

  With a small nod, she pulled her blouse tighter about her shoulders. As he led her below decks, he scanned the hall and sighed. She was getting too close, and it scared him witless.

  Chapter 10

  “Señorita, are you awake? It’s almost noon.”

  As Alberto knocked insistently on her door, Talia rolled over and groaned. Removing a satin mask from her eyes, she placed her feet on the floor. She’d hardly slept. After Talon had returned her to her quarters, she could think of nothing else but his glorious kiss.

  Upon feeling his primal reaction to her, she nearly gave into her unrequited lust. He had been a perfect gentleman, and she’d thrown herself at him like a common trollop. Had he not gained control she would have given herself to him. The adulation and fear in his eyes as he’d frozen her advances was nothing less than embarrassing.

  How can I face him again?

  Throwing a dressing robe about her shoulders, she stalked to the door with a huff. Cracking it just a touch, she glared at her partner. “What is it, Alberto? I didn’t sleep well.”

  Wringing his cap in his hands, the Spaniard shook his head vehemently. “Something has happened, Señorita! You must come quickly. Captain Hidalgo was stabbed on the quarterdeck last night.”

  Dread engulfed her. She was supposed to follow the captain last night. Had she and Talon almost witnessed his demise? Nodding, Talia dressed in a trice and followed Alberto to the top deck as quickly as she could.

  A large commotion at the mid-mast entertained the crew as she approached. Gathered in a circle, the men yelled profanities and shook their fists with bellows of, “Mutiny!”

  Perez’ voice reverberated off the sails. “This man, graciously given passage to the colonies aboard our ship, had the audacity to kill our beloved Captain Hidalgo.” The crew roared in anger.

  Talia frowned. Who in the world were they talking about? Weaving through the crowd, she gasped as Talon Barberry stood next to Perez in chains. His face was a mess of blood and bruises as his hair rabbled about his head like a bird’s nest. Clenching her fists, she attempted to push her way forward to no avail.

  The men bellowed for Perez to throw Talon overboard, but he calmed them with a wave of his hands. “As your newly appointed captain, I sentence Señor Barberry to the slave hold. We’re changing course. We’ll moor in Guadeloupe. He’s wanted in France for crimes against the crown, and I say we collect our just reward!” With that, the men cheered in agreement.

  Just as Talia stepped forward to claim Talon’s innocence, he caught her gaze and shook his head. The shackles at his wrists clanked as he pointed discreetly at Alberto. A warning?

  With her heart pounding in her chest, she gave her partner a sidelong glance. Alberto was working for Perez and DuPont?

  Dieu...

  Her stomach lurched as a pair of hefty sailors shoved Talon down the quarterdeck stairs. She knew what ill fate he faced below decks. “Non, they can’t do this.” Retreating from the crowd, she returned to her quarters to think.

  TALON TRIPPED OVER his shackles as two sailors shoved him into the slave hold. Landing face first upon the floor, he groaned. His muscles trembled as he pushed himself up to lean against a wooden beam. Licking the blood from his lips, he winced.

  What in the hell had happened? After tossing and turning in his hammock all night, he’d been yanked from a restless sleep by the burly second mate. Before the man had slapped the iron chains upon Talon’s wrists, Alberto Vargas emerged from the shadows and cold-cocked him. There was only one explanation—the bastard was a double agent.

  Speak of the devil.

  As Vargas descended the stairs with a skein of rope, Talon eyed him with disgust. “So, Vargas. Which do you favor? Spanish or French loyalties?”

  Vargas snickered. “I don’t care about politics, Señor.”

  The slaves scrambled as far away as their bindings would allow as Vargas grabbed Talon’s wrists and dragged him across the hold to a wooden support beam in the middle of the room. Encircling the structure with the length of rope, he tied a knot in the end and pulled it taut.

  Drenched in sweat, Talon snorted. “What is it, then? Fame? Glory? What do you get from this?”

  “It’s simple. I want my five hundred pounds... just like you.”

  Vargas was promised the same amount of money as me?

  Talon swallowed the
disgust that had lodged in his throat. Something was very wrong about this whole mission. “You sold out your partner for money?”

  Vargas shrugged. “I have no attachment to the woman. Señorita Montrose is merely a pawn, just like you.”

  Rage gripped Talon’s heart. If DuPont knew Talia wasn’t Carina Aringosa, what in God’s name was the point of this mission? Pulling against his chains, Talon growled, “I demand to know why I’ve been set up.”

  Clenching his jaw, Vargas whipped around. As the man’s fist connected with Talon’s face, stars swam in his vision.

  Yanking on his shackles, Vargas fastened his chains to the ropes. “Your days of demanding things are over, Señor. This trip was a ruse set up by a French gentleman who wants nothing more than to expand his boundaries of trade in New Orleans, and the señorita is his prize. And you fell for it.”

  Breathing shallowly, Talon glowered at the man through his good eye. “If you hurt Talia, I swear to God I will hunt you down and kill you.”

  Vargas cackled. “You won’t be doing anything but rotting at the bottom of the sea.” With that, he stomped as hard as he could on Talon’s shackles, ripping the skin around his ankle.

  Searing pain shot up his limb. Spots danced in front of his eyes as he tried to lift his maimed leg. It wasn’t broken, but blood dripped from the restraints. “God have mercy...”

  Vargas shook his head. “I can’t believe they hired such a fool. You’ve been the easiest decoy to deceive. Adiós, Señor.”

  As the man ascended the ladder, Talon collapsed against the beams. This was all his fault. DuPont’s vague instructions, Vargas’ abandonment when he got on the ship... of course he and Talia were pawns. At this point, it didn’t matter what they did. His fate was sealed.

  At least Talia hadn’t betrayed him. It was apparent she knew nothing about Vargas’ plans. But what were they going to do with her? Apparently, DuPont needed her. But for what? Talon’s heart pounded as he pushed the horrible thoughts simmering in his mind.