Beautiful Tempest
Page 70
“I didn’t think I was going to see you alone before the battle,” he said. “We’ll be sailing directly to it as soon as we get the location tomorrow.”
“I doubt it will take long. There are enough armed ships in my father’s fleet that you can probably sink whatever island Lacross is on.”
He chuckled. “Not quite sink, but your father decided against bombarding the base because he wants to deal with the pirate personally. The cannons will only be used to blast an opening if there are any high walls.”
“That gives them warning. They could scatter.”
“But not escape. It’s a new base, might even still be under construction—unless Lacross found another ancient fort to fortify.”
“My father is letting you go along for the battle?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m more worried about why he would, when he might think you’ll die in the fight. Don’t do that.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly and whirling her around. “You can be very silly, Jack, about some of the orders you issue.”
Jack looked up at the moonlit sky and smiled dreamily, but then she heard him add, “There are many tales about mermaids in the Caribbean, beautiful women who entrance men, put them under a spell, and make them do their bidding. They’re dangerous, but no man can resist them. Are you one of them, Jack?” He put her down and ran his fingers through her long blond hair before kissing her.
She grinned against his lips and said whimsically, “Maybe.”
Damon sat down on the sand and drew her onto his lap. Lights twinkled in the distance by the harbor. She cuddled against his chest. His kisses were soft, his mouth moving from hers to her cheeks, down to her neck. Gently, he was stirring her desires, making her wish she could share such moments with him every day. Without spotting her brother or sailors every time she turned around, she could touch him as she wanted, however she wanted. But on this beautiful night in this beautiful place she was oddly content to be in his arms as he held her close.
A caress on the side of her neck made her shiver, causing him to ask, “Are you nervous about your part tomorrow?”
“Not a’tall. It’s likely to be quite boring, then I’ll get stashed back here while you men get to go have all the fun.”
“That sounds like a complaint. You can’t really want to go along for the fight?”
“Why can’t I—want to, that is? I thought you said you knew me quite well.”
He rolled his eyes at her grin, and she ran her fingers lightly along his neck. If she hadn’t been basking in this closeness they were sharing, they wouldn’t be talking now, but since he hadn’t stopped kissing her the whole while, she hadn’t tried to silence him yet. But she gasped when one of his hands brushed too close to her breasts, and when he did it again more slowly, definitely caressing her there now, she thought she would probably regret making love on a beach when she woke up tomorrow with sand in her bed. . . . She laughed at the thought. No, she wouldn’t.
“What’s amusing?”
She repositioned herself to face him, putting her legs on either side of his hips. “I’ll tell you—when you return safely tomorrow.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
But then they heard, “Really, Jack, climbing out windows at your age?”
She leapt immediately to her feet. “Damnit, Jeremy—”
“No complaints, dear girl, after I’ve been standing over yonder when I ought to be in bed just so you could have some time to talk. Anything else doesn’t get to happen . . . ever . . . again. So come along.” He held out his hand to her, but she ignored it and flounced past him instead, so she didn’t hear, “And you, Captain, won’t be warned again—stay away from my sister.”
She managed not to slam the door to her room when she got back to it. But her frustration didn’t last long. That interlude, having Damon all to herself again, had been too nice.
In the morning, she had a quick breakfast before they all rowed out to Damon’s ship. She’d come ashore in her rose brocade traveling dress and she wore it now, although she’d left off the matching spencer jacket because the weather was so hot here in late August. Warren, Drew, and Boyd had departed earlier to ride to town and be inside the tavern when they got there. James was still chafing at the necessity of remaining out of sight until Pierre’s new location was obtained.
It didn’t take long to reach the harbor, where they got the last available berth, so they didn’t have to row ashore. Jeremy and Anthony had raided Nathan’s wardrobe and blended in perfectly. Jeremy had a bandanna tied about his head, and Tony was wearing an old tricorn hat with a pink feather. Neither man wore a jacket, and both had pistols stuck in their belts. They walked Jacqueline ashore, one on either side of her, following Damon and Mortimer, who led the way to the rendezvous site.
The tavern was near the docks and was crowded even at that early hour, which wasn’t surprising with so many ships presently docked. The patrons appeared to be an even mix of traditional sailors and men of a rougher caliber, not necessarily pirates, but not friendly sorts, either.
“Anyone you recognize—not counting ours?” Jeremy asked Damon in a low voice as they entered.
“No.”
The Anderson brothers were seated at a table near the entrance where they could keep an eye on the whole room and anyone who walked through the door. But every eye in the room fixed on Jacqueline. Laughter was cut short and silence descended for several long moments. It was what Jack had expected. Ladies didn’t usually frequent such places. If the room weren’t so crowded, she might have pretended to struggle a little or at least pulled her arms away from her uncle and brother, who were clasping them. But the last thing they wanted was for anyone there to try to help her.
They moved forward to the long bar, where the man behind it was watching them closely.
Damon leaned forward and gave him the password. “As you can see, I have Pierre’s prize.”
The man nodded. “Wait.” He entered a back room to the side of the bar, leaving the door open.
“Be easy,” Damon whispered behind him.
“Smells like a trap,” Jeremy whispered back, but after glancing behind himself and not seeing anyone getting up from the tables, amended, “Or not.”
“I doubt it will take long. There are enough armed ships in my father’s fleet that you can probably sink whatever island Lacross is on.”
He chuckled. “Not quite sink, but your father decided against bombarding the base because he wants to deal with the pirate personally. The cannons will only be used to blast an opening if there are any high walls.”
“That gives them warning. They could scatter.”
“But not escape. It’s a new base, might even still be under construction—unless Lacross found another ancient fort to fortify.”
“My father is letting you go along for the battle?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m more worried about why he would, when he might think you’ll die in the fight. Don’t do that.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly and whirling her around. “You can be very silly, Jack, about some of the orders you issue.”
Jack looked up at the moonlit sky and smiled dreamily, but then she heard him add, “There are many tales about mermaids in the Caribbean, beautiful women who entrance men, put them under a spell, and make them do their bidding. They’re dangerous, but no man can resist them. Are you one of them, Jack?” He put her down and ran his fingers through her long blond hair before kissing her.
She grinned against his lips and said whimsically, “Maybe.”
Damon sat down on the sand and drew her onto his lap. Lights twinkled in the distance by the harbor. She cuddled against his chest. His kisses were soft, his mouth moving from hers to her cheeks, down to her neck. Gently, he was stirring her desires, making her wish she could share such moments with him every day. Without spotting her brother or sailors every time she turned around, she could touch him as she wanted, however she wanted. But on this beautiful night in this beautiful place she was oddly content to be in his arms as he held her close.
A caress on the side of her neck made her shiver, causing him to ask, “Are you nervous about your part tomorrow?”
“Not a’tall. It’s likely to be quite boring, then I’ll get stashed back here while you men get to go have all the fun.”
“That sounds like a complaint. You can’t really want to go along for the fight?”
“Why can’t I—want to, that is? I thought you said you knew me quite well.”
He rolled his eyes at her grin, and she ran her fingers lightly along his neck. If she hadn’t been basking in this closeness they were sharing, they wouldn’t be talking now, but since he hadn’t stopped kissing her the whole while, she hadn’t tried to silence him yet. But she gasped when one of his hands brushed too close to her breasts, and when he did it again more slowly, definitely caressing her there now, she thought she would probably regret making love on a beach when she woke up tomorrow with sand in her bed. . . . She laughed at the thought. No, she wouldn’t.
“What’s amusing?”
She repositioned herself to face him, putting her legs on either side of his hips. “I’ll tell you—when you return safely tomorrow.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
But then they heard, “Really, Jack, climbing out windows at your age?”
She leapt immediately to her feet. “Damnit, Jeremy—”
“No complaints, dear girl, after I’ve been standing over yonder when I ought to be in bed just so you could have some time to talk. Anything else doesn’t get to happen . . . ever . . . again. So come along.” He held out his hand to her, but she ignored it and flounced past him instead, so she didn’t hear, “And you, Captain, won’t be warned again—stay away from my sister.”
She managed not to slam the door to her room when she got back to it. But her frustration didn’t last long. That interlude, having Damon all to herself again, had been too nice.
In the morning, she had a quick breakfast before they all rowed out to Damon’s ship. She’d come ashore in her rose brocade traveling dress and she wore it now, although she’d left off the matching spencer jacket because the weather was so hot here in late August. Warren, Drew, and Boyd had departed earlier to ride to town and be inside the tavern when they got there. James was still chafing at the necessity of remaining out of sight until Pierre’s new location was obtained.
It didn’t take long to reach the harbor, where they got the last available berth, so they didn’t have to row ashore. Jeremy and Anthony had raided Nathan’s wardrobe and blended in perfectly. Jeremy had a bandanna tied about his head, and Tony was wearing an old tricorn hat with a pink feather. Neither man wore a jacket, and both had pistols stuck in their belts. They walked Jacqueline ashore, one on either side of her, following Damon and Mortimer, who led the way to the rendezvous site.
The tavern was near the docks and was crowded even at that early hour, which wasn’t surprising with so many ships presently docked. The patrons appeared to be an even mix of traditional sailors and men of a rougher caliber, not necessarily pirates, but not friendly sorts, either.
“Anyone you recognize—not counting ours?” Jeremy asked Damon in a low voice as they entered.
“No.”
The Anderson brothers were seated at a table near the entrance where they could keep an eye on the whole room and anyone who walked through the door. But every eye in the room fixed on Jacqueline. Laughter was cut short and silence descended for several long moments. It was what Jack had expected. Ladies didn’t usually frequent such places. If the room weren’t so crowded, she might have pretended to struggle a little or at least pulled her arms away from her uncle and brother, who were clasping them. But the last thing they wanted was for anyone there to try to help her.
They moved forward to the long bar, where the man behind it was watching them closely.
Damon leaned forward and gave him the password. “As you can see, I have Pierre’s prize.”
The man nodded. “Wait.” He entered a back room to the side of the bar, leaving the door open.
“Be easy,” Damon whispered behind him.
“Smells like a trap,” Jeremy whispered back, but after glancing behind himself and not seeing anyone getting up from the tables, amended, “Or not.”
