Captive Secrets (35 page)

“It's not morning yet, is it?” he whispered anxiously.

“No. The fog has lifted,” Fury murmured. “Perhaps we should wish on a star. Do you think wishes come true?”

“Not this one,” Luis said through clenched teeth. How many more hours, he wondered, before he would have to give her up? He didn't want this to end, not ever. How could he give her up? He wasn't made of stone; he loved this beautiful young woman. He'd proved his love, and she'd matched his ardor with her own. What was she thinking, feeling? he wondered.

“My wishes always came true before,” Fury said wistfully. “Of course, I never realized as a child that my parents were responsible for making them come true. . . . I'll never forget you, Luis.”

“Nor I you,” Luis said, stroking her hair. “I want only your happiness, and if I'm not the person to grant you that happiness, I can at least wish you . . . You know what I'm trying to say,” he said gruffly.

There was no way she could explain her feelings. She didn't understand them herself. She only knew that she would never be able to drive him from her heart. In her dark cell at night she would think of him and in the morning she would offer prayers, asking forgiveness.

The silence between them seemed more eloquent than words. When Luis reached down to take her hand in his, she sighed with happiness as she felt her body being drawn to his. She was ever aware of his leanness, his maleness. Her flesh tingled with the contact of his. She felt her body move into the circle of his arms as his mouth became a part of hers, and her heart beat in a savage, untamed rhythm. In their yearnings they strained together, mounting obstacles of the flesh to marry spirit and soul, united for eternity.

In the quiet moonlight they devoured each other with searching, hungry lips. At last Luis tore his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged and harsh. But it was Fury whose sensibilities returned first, and she moved away from him, her eyes sleepy, almost content. She moistened her lips, and her bruised mouth tasted sweet to her tongue.

When Luis pulled her to him again, Fury responded by crushing her mouth to his, demanding more. The banked fires burst into flame as she felt his searching hands explore her body. His touch was scorching, searing, as her own hands caressed his high cheekbones and luxuriated in his lustrous raven hair. Moan after moan escaped her as she strained against him, her mouth mingling with his, her tongue darting to conquer his.

Luis drew in his breath at the sight of Fury's body bathed in silvery radiance. His face was inscrutable in the ghostly rays, but his gaze was almost tangible; she felt it reach her, touch her, and she became aware of the all-consuming fire that raged through her. Her body took on a will of its own as Luis caressed and explored every inch of her. She moved to the rhythm he initiated and felt him respond to her in a way she had never dreamed possible. Flames licked her body as she sought to quench the blazing inferno that engulfed her. He kissed her ears, her eyes, her moistened mouth, murmuring tender words of love, his hands traveling down her lithe form, arousing, teasing her, until her breath came in short gasps and her body writhed beneath his touch.

His lips clung to hers as he pressed her down into the coarse blanket on the deck. He buried his hands in her silken hair, twining the thickness, holding her head still as he kissed her savagely. Fury strained against his muscular chest as she responded to his passion with an urgency that demanded release. He caressed her again and again, cherishing her, desiring her, imprisoning her body with his.

He felt her flesh grow warm and taut beneath him; his avid mouth worshiped her, tracing moist patterns on her creamy skin. His dark head moved lower, grazing the firmness of her belly, down to the silky smoothness between her thighs. He parted her legs with his knee and felt her respond to him, arching her back to receive him. Her parted lips were a flame that met his raging, tumultuous mouth. She welcomed him, accepted him, his hardness, his leanness, his very maleness, as he drove into her.

He lay upon her, commanding her response, and she offered it, writhing beneath him, exulting in her own femininity as she caressed his broad back and crushed her lips to his. The unquenchable heat that was soaring through her beat in her veins, threatening to crescendo into a raging inferno. The pounding of her heart thundered in her ears—or was it Luis's that beat and roared about them? Her breathing ragged, she prepared herself for him. And when at last the searing ache erupted within her, she was consumed in the explosion—a soul-shattering cataclysm that carried Luis with her over the brink.

They clung tightly to each other like children fearful of being separated. “I'll always love you, Luis,” Fury whispered.

“And I you,” Luis murmured, his lips in her hair.

“It will be light soon, we have to get dressed.” For the first time Fury realized that they were lying out in the open on a coarse blanket.

“Who will see us?” Luis teased.

“Those on your ship.”

“She's drifted off, a good distance. But you're right, it's time to get dressed. Fury, I . . .”

“Shhh, no words, Luis, please. What we had . . . have . . . will stay with us always. It's time for you to continue with your journey home, and I must . . . continue mine. Please, flag your ship while I see to Gaspar and Pilar. Please, Luis, don't make this more difficult for me than it already is,” Fury said through her tears. “Adios, my love....” A moment later she was gone, down below with her protective birds.

Luis never felt so alone in his life.

 

“How can I live without him?” Fury demanded of Pilar, who was standing guard over her mate. “You must understand what I feel. You battled those in your way to get to Gaspar. You can't bear to be without him, I know you can't. I feel that way about Luis.

“Oh, I'm so selfish,” she wept. “I want to have everything, but I can't. I'm promised to God. It's my destiny. There are no choices. Already I've betrayed my God and my faith and will spend the rest of my life atoning for my ... last night.”

Fury washed and brushed her hair, donned clean undergarments and a fresh dress. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. The ship was moving now, no longer drifting, which meant in a matter of minutes Luis would board the
Silver Lady;
Juli's brothers would return, and they'd change course for Batavia. She felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest.

The moment she heard Juli's brothers on board, she wiped away her tears and ran up onto the deck, racing to the stern. Hair billowing behind her, she waved once, twice . . . and then once again as the man on the stern of the
Silver Lady
saluted her in return.

When the
Rana
was safe in her berth at the cove, Fury, drawn and haggard, issued her last orders. “Clean this ship from top to bottom, see that her repairs are first rate, scour the decks one last time with holy stones, and repaint the ship. Fix her right name on the bow. Last but not least, fashion a litter for Gaspar and I'll carry him to the casa. Adios, my friends. I'll tell Juli you're well.”

The brothers banded together and stared at their captain. The eldest spoke, his voice gruff yet gentle. “We know it's not our place, but the Spaniard loves you very much. If you let him go now, he'll never be the man he's destined to be, just as you will never be the woman you are destined to be. Your life will be a world of holy words without meaning.” He glanced at the others, then down at his feet. “That's all we have to say, Capitana. . . . Oh, yes, one last thing. Give these to our sister, one from each of us.”

Fury accepted the handful of brilliant gems and did her best to smile. “I want the mouth of the river blocked once the ship is secure,” she said. “Can you do that for me?”

“Aye, Capitana. We'll send word when it's sealed. Adios.”

“Adios,” Fury whispered.

It was done.

 

“You look like death!” Juli grumbled as she ushered Fury up the stairs to her room. “Fetch up the hot water!” she ordered one of the maids.

Fury grimaced. “I know what I look like, Juli. I don't need you to remind me.”

“Tomorrow—”

“I know what tomorrow is,” Fury snapped. “I'll be ready. Has Father Sebastian been here? Is he going to accompany me?”

Juli nodded. “He doesn't want to, but he will. It's a mistake. Everyone but you knows it's a mistake, and still you persist in this foolishness. You aren't meant to enter that damn convent!” She grumbled as pail after pail of water was poured into the tub.

“I'm committed to God—you can't change that with words!” Fury cried. “Now I don't want to talk about this ever again. Do you hear me?”

“Everyone in the casa can hear you,” Juli retorted. “Tell me something, Miss Fury, have you given any thought to the fact that you could be . . .
enceinte
?”

Fury turned slowly to stare at the matronly housekeeper. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Those things happen when a man and a woman . . . You should think about
that
before you enter the convent, or you will shame everyone—your parents, those good, holy women, and yourself.”

Fury sat down in the tub with a loud splash. She cursed then, long and loud.

Juli covered her ears and turned so Fury wouldn't see her smile. “Where did you learn such words? Not from my brothers! Although,” she added thoughtfully, “I seem to recall your mother using those very same words whenever your father angered her.” She chuckled. “Your God will never forgive you.”

“As of this minute, Juli, you are no longer in my employ. Take your damn diamonds and go away. Go to Aldo—or go to hell! I don't care. With those jewels you can live in splendor for the rest of your life! . . . What are you waiting for?”

“Your apology and then I'll go. You see, you're upset, and the only reason you're upset is because of Senor Domingo. You know what you're planning is wrong, yet you're still going to go through with it. You lack the courage to admit you made a mistake. You should never have let him go; now you'll never see him again. He could be killed at sea by other marauders, have you given that any thought?”

Fury's eyes filled with tears. “I want to be alone, Juli, please, leave me to my misery. And yes, I'm sorry for what I said. You can stay on here if you like.”

After Juli left, Fury sat in the tub until her skin puckered. Then she crawled into her bed, pulling the light coverlet up to her chin. Through the window she could see Gaspar in his litter in the sun, Pilar perched nearby. A happy ending for everyone but her and Luis.

She beat her fists into the pillows, tears of self-pity drenching the lacy covering. Eventually she slept, but it was a sleep invaded by dark dreams of a squawling baby in her cell at the convent, begging for wholesome food and sunlight. She woke exhausted, with dark shadows under her eyes that no amount of powder could cover.

As she dressed she found herself wondering if she really could be pregnant. It simply wasn't possible, she thought. She was obeying her calling, her destiny was preordained. Her sins of the flesh would be obliterated. God was all-forgiving. She would serve Him for the rest of her life.

Father Sebastian was downstairs; she could hear his voice, subdued yet anxious. Juli would be telling him all the details of her sea voyage, possibly even the intimate details she thought she knew. Fury's face burned as she remembered the things she'd done, the emotions she'd felt. Perhaps she should make a confession before she left for the convent. Her heart thudded at saying the words aloud to the priest. No, she would wait and make her confession at the convent.

“Damn!” she muttered. She should enter the convent free of sin, pure and holy. She was none of those things. “Please, give me some sign that You want me,” she whispered. “I will honor my commitment to You, Holy Father, if this is what I'm supposed to do.”

She walked out to the balcony to say a last good-bye to the hawks. They were quiet, too quiet, she thought as she stroked them. They know where I'm going. They know they'll never see me again.

“When Gaspar is well, I want you to find Luis and stay with him,” she told Pilar. “He'll take care of you, I know he will.” She sobbed then, hard sounds of pure grief that neither bird appeared to acknowledge. Pilar's glittering eyes remained on Gaspar, whose own shiny dark eyes remained closed. “Good-bye, my friends,” she whispered, and ran from the room, her satchel bobbing against her legs.

Pilar's diamond-bright eyes followed Fury until she was out of sight. Gaspar's eyes snapped open, and he struggled to raise himself but felt Pilar's wings pressing him back down on his bed. She flapped her wings, admonishing her mate to remain where he was, before she spiraled upward and out through the open French doors that led to the balcony. Instead of following the priest's wagon, the hawk flew toward port and then out to sea.

It was hours before Pilar spied the ship she was searching for. She circled in a pattern that only she and Gaspar knew before plunging downward to land next to Luis on the stern. He showed no surprise at her arrival. Pilar watched him intently, waiting for him to speak.

“I can't let her go,” he said hoarsely. “I have to try to make her see it's me she needs. I'm not going to ask her to forsake God. I'll beg if I have to. I told her I loved her, but I didn't tell her how much. I had to come back to tell her I can't live without her. Once she walks through the gates, there is no turning back. But I can't make this ship go any faster, and the wind is dying. I need more time, hours at least. There's no way I can make it in time, I know that, but I have no choice. I must try.” He looked at Pilar and slowly shook his head. “Why am I telling you all this? You can't possibly understand what I'm thinking and feeling.”