My Wicked Pirate. Rona Sharon
That is, if one knows his way around…” He grinned.
Alanis was struck with a sudden, wild craving to go there, to see it with her own eyes. “Do you also know your way around the Sultan’s harem in Constantinople?” She smiled daringly.
“The Turkish Sultan is peculiarly possessive of his wives, but yes, I have stolen a few quick glimpses inside his harem. What else intrigues you, my inquisitive fair lady?”
“Are the taverns of Tortuga as shocking as people say they are? I hear the women there would take their clothes off and dance on a table in the nude for a few pieces of eight.”
Eros burst out laughing. “Where do you hear these stories, Alanis? I wasn’t aware innocent young ladies discussed shocking topics on social occasions.”
“We sometimes discuss you as well, the most shocking topic of all.”
“Me?” He splayed his hand over his heart, feigning bewilderment. “Must I assume it is my black character you and your little friends chew to pieces over tea and scones?”
“Have you been eavesdropping?” Alanis laughed, savoring the feel of his arms around her. “You do enjoy a nasty reputation, Eros. You make delightful gossip material.”
He cocked a jet eyebrow. “Such as?”
“Such as the fortified towns you held for ransom, the ships you plundered, the fortune of pillage you’ve accumulated, the men you killed, the women you…”
His mouth brushed against hers. “I admit there were women, but the last I came to know surpasses them all incontestably. Why do you resign yourself to a life you obviously deem small and insignificant? You’re bright, exceptionally educated, and not lacking in spirit. Why seal your fate so ascetically?”
“My life is neither small nor insignificant.” Nonetheless, his question touched the bleeding wound in her soul. “I’m not like you. I have responsibilities, loved ones I cannot let down.”
“Do those loved ones always live up to your expectations?” He put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “Bella donna, no man in his right mind would refuse a woman like you. Silverlake is no less man than I am, but his heart already belongs to another. Who is he so anxious to please that he will marry you while he’s in love with another?”
Startled by his perception, Alanis pulled away from him and stared out the window. Palm trees rustled in the breeze; wind chimes tinkled melodiously. She wanted to live on this island, but not when the only reason Lucas wanted to marry her was to please his father. The Earl of Denton would never absolve his son of marrying beneath him.
“You should get some sleep,” Eros spoke beside her. “I’ll stay here. I’ve spent too much time abed already. Rest assured I’ll respect your privacy.”
Oddly, she believed him. And she was exhausted. “I don’t know what happened to Betsy. She was supposed to wait for me here after dinner.”
“I dismissed her,” he admitted sheepishly.
Alanis’s lips curved. “No doubt terrorized the poor girl out of her wits.”
“Harsh accusations, my lady, but I assure you, all I did was come out here.”
“It was enough.” She sent him a small smile. “No matter. I’ll manage. Good night.”
“Good night.” His deep voice followed her as she disappeared behind the bedroom door.
She removed her gown, donned her nightshift, and slipped beneath the covers. Snuggling happily, she buried her face in the pillow and inhaled the musky, masculine scent enveloping her.
Someone knocked. “Come in,” she called.
Eros opened the door. “Don’t worry. I have every intention of keeping my word.” He ambled inside and sat beside her. By candlelight his handsomeness made her heart beat a little faster. She pulled the sheet up to her neck, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“I’ve given the matter some thought and decided I’m up to the challenge.”
Alanis sat up. “What challenge? You mean you wish to take me with you?”
“To the Kasbah, to Tortuga, to any spot that strikes your fancy. No strings attached.”
She was speechless. And thrilled. “Why?”
“Because I’ve grown a fondness for pretty waspish blondes who read Ovidius.” He leaned closer. “As they say in Venice, ‘The time has come to squander gold and silver coins as if they were nuts.’ Come with me. You won’t regret it.”
She sighed dreamily. “Traveling to Venice with an Italian sounds…delightful. After all, Italy is said to be the wonder of all wonders, the land of art and beauty. I would love to go there.”
His eyes turned cold; his veneer hardened. “Italy is the one place I will never take you.”
His distinct aversion to Michelangelo and Da Vinci’s homeland, his homeland, triggered a host of questions in her mind, but she decided not to pry at the moment. “And the war? Shouldn’t you be fighting Frenchmen?”
He smiled. “I think old Louis can spare me for a while. Don’t you?”
Alanis pondered his offer. Sailing away with him for a few months meant casting propriety to the wind. It meant relinquishing Lucas to Jasmine. It meant changing the course of her life—in favor of pursuing her dream. The idea had merit but was hardly the thing to do. However, hadn’t she once said that if the opportunity arose she’d become an explorer of faraway lands? What grand prospects held her here? What such prospects awaited her at home?
“You can trust me. I’ll be leaving at midnight tomorrow. You have a whole day to consider my offer.” He blew out the candle and leaned very close. “Buonanotte, bella donna. Create a beautiful dream with me.” He took her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss that twirled all the way to her toes, then got up and left the room, leaving her half wishing he hadn’t….
Alanis kept her word and took Jasmine shopping. It was a joint venture. Jasmine knew her way around Kingston, and she knew her way around fashion. By noontime Jasmine was outfitted for a whole new wardrobe and Alanis was in love with the town.
As the Silverlake coach entered the inner courtyard of Lucas’s house, Alanis contemplated Eros’s offer for the millionth time that day. She scarcely slept during the night, weighing the pros and cons. She woke up determined to sail with him, but as the day wore on, the more she thought of her grandfather the less she felt inclined to go. The coach stopped. Two footmen hurried forth to carry the numerous parcels. Pleased with her handiwork, Alanis watched Jasmine walk up the front steps in her new, sunny day gown. There wasn’t a sign of the brassy female buccaneer.
Chambers, Lucas’s butler, greeted them inside the house, looking impressed. “Good day, ladies. What a pity his lordship is out. You make a delightful sight, if I may say so.”
“Thank you, Chambers.” Alanis cast nervous glances at the top of the staircase and yanked her lace gloves off. “Has anything come to pass in our absence?”
“Nothing alarming, my lady. Although you do have visitors: A Madam Holbrook, a Mrs. Greyson, and a Miss Marianne Caldwell. They seem to be under the impression his lordship is harboring dangerous criminals in the house.” He wriggled his eyebrows meaningfully.
“The Witches Council…” Alanis muttered, irritated. What remarkable timing they had.
“Pardon, my lady? I put them in the morning room. I trust I did the right thing?”
“Yes, Chambers, better to get it over and done with before the entire island is upon us. Please be good enough to serve us tea. Come along, Jasmine.” She grabbed the ex-buccaneer’s wrist before she managed a mad dash upstairs. “If you are to become a genteel lady, you should get acquainted with the less charming aspects of the business and have a clearer idea of what you are getting