Captured (20 page)

“Would you prefer Violet know how deeply I care for you? I could kiss you fervently, thereby arousing her suspicions.”

Her smile peeped out. “No.”

“My words to you may be harsh when the time comes.”

“I understand.”

“But they will not be the words of my heart,
petite.”

He walked over and took her into his arms. “This is going to be a dangerous game and we’ll need every piece to fall into place, which is why I wish to keep things simple. The less pieces in the puzzle, the easier it will be to complete.”

She held on tight, her cheek against his strong chest. She couldn’t wait for it all to be over. “Dominic, if things unravel and you have to make a choice, take my children. Bring them here. If I’m left behind it will be bearable if I know they are in your care.”

Dominic had no intention of leaving her behind, no matter the circumstances.

She looked to him with eyes filled with serious emotion. “Promise me, Dominic.”

He studied her for a long moment, then finally nodded. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

For the next week Clare and Dominic spent their days apart. His attention was focused on preparing the small sloop for the sail to Savannah and determining which items in the stores might bring the most profit once he and his crew of smugglers arrived. He hoped to take advantage of the shortages caused by the British blockade by bringing in textiles and luxury items that appealed to the women: items like perfume, china, and fine wine; all things he and his people had accumulated through four years of privateering and piracy. Clare was often asleep by the time he returned home each night, and he didn’t have the energy or the heart to awaken her.

He was also working on other tasks tied more directly to the island’s future, like the careening of the
Marie’s
hull, clearing land for fields so more food could be grown, and holding negotiations with a Cuban company that wanted to begin harvesting some of the hardwood trees for exportation to Spain. He felt as if it had been months since he and Clare had had time alone, but he was too busy to remedy the situation.

Clare, on the other hand, spent her days with Anna traveling over the countryside and relishing the company of the island’s women. She helped the women plant, a task rooted in their African traditions, and she helped out at the school. Odessa was still angry at Esteban, and no, the ring hadn’t been found. Clare sorely missed Dominic’s company, but she knew how much he was doing and that a good portion of it was being done on her behalf, so she didn’t complain.

As the preparations for Savannah were finalized and a date for departure was chosen, Dominic wanted to spend some time alone with Clare, and he wanted it to be special because it would have to last them until they all returned to the island from Savannah. With that in mind, he loaded the wagon, and the two of them drove up to the abandoned lookout station Gaspar and Suzette had used for their honeymoon.

When she walked inside nothing about the place was romantic as far as Clare could see. It was a stone hut with a dirt floor. There was a grate where a fire could be built if needed. Two openings in the stone walls constituted windows. There was an alcove that led to what she supposed was a back room, a couple of cane chairs, and a rough-hewn table.

Dominic entered carrying some of the supplies they’d brought with them and set them down. “Pretty gloomy?”

“A bit.”

“Step this way, please.”

Curious, she followed him through the alcove. To her surprise it led outside to a covered stone platform. Nestled inside was a four-poster bed. Its size rivaled the one back at the mansion. Fine-gauge netting hung from rods in the stone roof and enclosed the bed in a way that appeared very romantic indeed.

“Better?” he asked with a smile.

“Oh yes, and the view is magnificent.” They were high up on the mountain. A curved, waist-high stone wall circled the platform, offering a safe place to stand so one could look out over the beautiful blue sea and the surrounding tropical forest. It was yet another jewel in the Eden he called home. “Now I see why your island’s sweethearts come here.”

“It is a spectacular place. I wanted to spend a day or two here before we head to Savannah. Give us a bit of time together.”

“I’m glad we came.”

“Good. Let’s unload the rest of the wagon and then I want to show you something even more spectacular.”

The something more spectacular turned out to be a waterfall. The rush of frothy water filled her ears as it poured over a cliff and down into a wide pool below. Clare was awed by its beauty. “I’ve never seen a waterfall before.”

“Yet another reason why lovers come here.” He sat on a fallen tree trunk and removed his shoes and then his stockings.

“What are you doing?”

“Undressing, and I encourage you to do the same.”

“Why?”

“So we can wade in.”

She stared at him blankly. He was by then pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his strong chest and powerful arms. After tossing it aside he set about undoing the buttons on his breeches, then shrugged them down. Nude as Adam in the Garden, he folded his breeches and shirt and laid them at his feet. Giving her a grin, he ran to the edge of the pool and dove in. He came up a few moments later, dragging his hands over his streaming face. He called out over the roaring water, “Come on in,
petite!”

“But I can’t swim!”

“The edges are shallow!”

Clare had done some fairly outrageous things since meeting him, but stripping herself nude and walking around under the sun and sky was a bit more than she was ready for. “I don’t know about this, Dominic,” she said mostly to herself.

“No one will see you!”

Clare remained skeptical. The deepest water she’d ever been in was the bathing tub that he’d placed out on the verandah that day.

He called again, “It’s no fun to play in the water alone! Come on! Please?”

While she debated inwardly she watched him swim back and forth, his long arms breaking the water fluidly. He looked as natural as if he’d been created for the sea.

Clare made up her mind.
Why not
? Taking a seat on the log, she removed her shoes and stockings and then her skirt, blouse, and drawers. Her shift, she left on. It was one thing to be fully nude in the darkness of his bedroom or in a dark spot on the beach, but it was another thing entirely to be nude outside in the middle of the day.

Dominic didn’t chastise her for not removing her shift. She was a product of her colonial upbringing. In truth, he found her modesty sweetly arousing because beneath the prim exterior beat the heart of the very sensual and delightfully uninhibited woman he planned on making love to around the clock for the next two days. When they temporarily parted ways in Savannah he wanted her to remember that she was cherished.

Clare walked to the edge and he swam to meet her. When he reached the shallows he stood and walked up out of the water with the graceful bearing of an African sea deity. Of course her eyes strayed to that part of his anatomy that brought her so much joy, then catching herself staring, she quickly looked up and found his smiling eyes waiting.

“It’s the effect of the cold water,” he explained. “We’ll put it to rights later.”

Embarrassed to her toes she finally composed herself enough to raise her gaze again.

“You are too bold, Captain.”

He lifted her chin and fed his eyes on the soft curves of her smile. “Yes, I am.”

“Modest, too, I see.”

“Also arrogant, and very selfish when it comes to you.” He pressed his mouth to hers. “Very selfish.”

It was their first kiss in days and they reveled in the familiar tastes of each other. “Ready?” he asked.

“No.” She laughed. “But I’m willing to try.”

Holding her hand, he led her to the edge of the water. “It’s chilly, so be warned.”

Clare waded in gingerly. The cold water lapped over her ankles, then her knees, and delight came over her even though she was scared half to death. He led her slowly around the edge of the pool, and the closer they moved to the cliff where the water poured down, the louder the roar sounded in her ears. There were rocks beneath her feet and the water level now rode mid-thigh, dampening the hem of her shift.

“You’re doing well, Clare.”

“Just don’t let go of my hand.”

By then they were standing to the left of the water cascading down. The spray and splash had turned her shift into a transparent second skin. Of all the new experiences she’d had, this had to be the most incredible. She was being soaked but didn’t care. He stepped directly into the plummeting stream and she followed. The force made her scream but it was a scream of joy. Raising her arms above her head, she opened herself to the tumbling water and it obliged.

Dominic’s love for her surged watching her play. There were so many things he wanted her to experience, feel, and see. Captivity had deprived her of so much that if she asked him for the moon and stars he’d find a way to obtain them. His heart and soul had been captured by a small, strong-minded slip of a woman who could curse at him in a variety of languages and read Shakespeare but had never slept in a bed, taken a bath, or been shown the tenderness and care she deserved for simply being alive. The idea that by month’s end, she’d be in his life permanently filled him with an anticipation usually reserved for children on Christmas morning.

Since he doubted she could hear him over the falls, he took her hand again and pointed in the direction he wanted her to walk. She let him lead her and he took them through the downpour and into the cave behind the falls.

Startled by where they were, Clare looked around. “This is a cave.”

“Yes. We call it Sweetheart Cave.”

Clare wiped at the water on her face and stared around. With no sun to warm her she was beginning to shiver.

“Come with me.” Taking her by the hand again, he led her through the cave and out into the sunlight on the other side.

“Oh, thank you.”

He gave her a quick kiss before disappearing back inside, and returned a few moments with a large sheet of muslin that she gratefully wrapped herself in. He wrapped himself in another one.

“Where’d this come from?” she asked, taking a seat on a sun-warmed boulder nearby. The roar of the waterfall could be heard but it was much quieter where they were.

“Chest inside. Couples use this place fairly regularly, so once a month Anna or one of her women comes up and restocks the chest.”

“What a novel plan.”

“Works well. You may want to strip off your shift and let it dry.”

The idea was embarrassing but logical, so she dropped the muslin to her waist. She stood, and after removing the wet garment spread it out on a bush beside her. She made move to sit and cover herself again, but he gently stayed her hand.

“Let me look at you,
petite.
”

Torn between self-consciousness and how reckless the heat in his voice made her feel, she let him have his wish.

“You are so gorgeously made.” He ran a trailing finger from the base of her throat down to the hidden nook of her navel. When he slowly reversed the path, her eyes slid closed. Both hands joined in whispering over her breast to her waist, then skimming over the flare of her hips so he could gently urge her to come stand between the vee of his spread legs. A flick of his tongue against the already tightened buds of her breasts made her pulses pound and she placed her hands on his strong shoulders for support. He fed on her lustily, lingering and dallying while his large hand ardently circled up and down her spine. It dipped lower to map her hip, then lower still to treat the damp vent between her thighs to a series of elongated touches that made her croon, arch, and flow. Soon, all contact with time and place was lost; sensation became her world.

Having learned to pleasure him in return during the warm nights spent in his bed, she grasped the smooth hard shaft jutting between them in a knowing hold, and his eyes slid closed. Moving her hand over him with slow finesse, she smiled sultrily. Clare found that she loved the power her touch had over him because it matched the power he wielded over her. When she dropped to her knees and proceeded to show him more of what he’d taught her, he groaned, and she raised her head and whispered, “The pursuit of perfection is a worthy goal.”

Chuckling, and feeling himself about to burst from the randy ministrations of the scandalous Clare Sullivan, he growled and picked her up. As he held her in the air above him, his hot eyes met hers. “Open your legs.”

She did, and he eased her down onto the tip of the shaft she’d prepared so wantonly and pushed his way into paradise. She purred with pleasure. Hands filled with her hips, he began to stroke; guiding her up and down, back and forth, filling her and loving her until they were moving and gasping as one. The pace increased, the rhythm rose, and all she could do was ride. The glory of it had him gritting his teeth and tightening his hold to direct her faster and faster still. He felt himself teetering on the edge, his manhood demanding more. Seconds later she came, growling low in her throat, her body twisting. The sight of her and the feel of her sheath tightening and pulsing blew him apart like a grenade on a deck. He let out a yell loud as any waterfall and began to pump like a man gone mad because he had.

Later, as peace and quiet returned, she was seated on his lap with her arms wrapped loosely around his waist, her cheek against his still-pounding heart while he held her close. “That was very nice, Captain.”

“I think we should start over to make sure we did everything correctly.”

Humor in her voice, she asked, “You think so?”

“Maybe later when I can walk.”

After a few more minutes of silence he kissed the top of her head. “My apologies though.”

She looked up into his face. “Whatever for?”

“I left the sponges in the hut.”

Their eyes held for a long moment, then she cuddled back against him. “Too late to go back.”