My Wicked Pirate. Rona Sharon
frowned, weighing devotion against fear. Fear tipped the scales. Assuming his position in the boat, he said, “May God be with you, my lady, and keep you safe.”
The old ruins emerged from the sand as a daunting headstone. She was mad; Alanis shook her head and started walking along the moonlit beach, cursing the damp sand for ruining her best pair of satin heels. Sunshine and freedom indeed! She was a reckless idiot! She scanned the night-veiled horizon. A ship awash in moonlight awaited her captain. Where the devil was Eros?
“Looking for someone?” a deep voice called.
Alanis whipped around. Eros was casually perched on a tall boulder. A pleased grin curved his lips as his eyes took in her appearance. Clinging to her neck by a satin ribbon, her cape hung low down her back, exposing her shimmering purple ball gown and the violet stones gracing the rises of her collarbone. Golden strands clung to her cheeks. A strong pulse throbbed visibly at the base of her throat, betraying the state of her nerves. She was out of breath and trembling like the breeze.
“I thought you’d left.” She panted, causing her bosom to push above her low neckline.
“Still here.” Eros hopped off the rock. He landed soundlessly on the soft sand and walked to her. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “So you found my note. Too clever for your own good.” He came up in front of her, tall and dark, his jet hair catching the light wind. He splayed his hands on her small waist and pulled her to him. “Did you have a nice time at the ball?”
Heart pounding, Alanis stared into his eyes. “How long before midnight?”
He ran a finger along the graceful slope of her neck. “Not too long.”
She frowned at his casual tone. Perhaps it was a mistake. Sailing the world still seemed a tempting endeavor, yet Eros was a stranger, a dangerous, unreadable stranger.
His large palm cruised up her spine and cradled her nape. “No changing your mind now, bellissima. You’re coming with me.” His mouth silenced her potential protests. His taste, his heat overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around him and sunk into his kiss. Dark waves broke ashore, spraying her skin. It was magic—sirens luring sailors to smash onto the rocks. Magic.
Snickering voices interrupted the kiss. “Capitano, did we come in a bad time?”
Alanis broke free. Five men were coming ashore; a boat lapped at the edge of the water.
“I think your physician is reluctant to release you.” Nico’s amused eyes boldly roamed her.
She burrowed against Eros, who shot Nico a debilitating glare. “Star zitto, Niccolò! And the rest of you—shut up as well!” He took her cold hand and started toward the boat.
“Wait!” Alanis dug her heels in the sand. She stared at the men—the company she was to keep henceforth. A chill ran up her spine. It was a mistake. She could not possibly go with them. She met Eros’s questioning gaze. “Take me back, Eros. Please. I’ve changed my mind.”
He stared at her. “Too late. I can’t afford to lose the tide.”
With one look he iced her blood. It was as if he had flipped and she was facing another side of him—a cold, unfeeling side. He was not the playful, wounded cub she had cared for two nights ago. “I will go by myself.” She tried to unshackle her hand, but he only tightened his grip.
He marched ahead, dragging her against her will down the sloping beach. She struggled and protested to no avail. He scooped her off the sand and waded the short distance to the boat in his boots. His men exploded with laughter.
“Shut up, idiots!” Eros nailed them with a sharp look of warning. “Now row!”
CHAPTER 8
She was back in the black and purple cabin. Eros locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket. He contemplated her hostile face. Her skin glistened with seawater. Her golden hair tumbled to her waist, mussed and damp. Her purple gown shimmered in the soft lamplight.
“You look beautiful wearing my colors, Principessa. They suit you well.”
“Your colors,” Alanis spat with contempt. “You take pride in these colors as if you were a noble knight fighting the Saracens in the Holy Land, when in fact you are an evil, base man.”
A muscle throbbed in his jaw. His eyes betrayed the look of a wounded predator. He tore his gaze away and marched to the wine cabinet. He uncorked a cognac decanter and poured four fingers into a snifter. He tossed his head back and downed the entire glass.
Her voice echoed the frost in her eyes. “Take me back to Kingston or the entire fleet will swoop down on you and chase you to Kingdom Come. Do not presume for a moment that Viscount Silverlake will abandon his fiancée in the hands of a despicable pirate!”
Eros tipped the decanter over his snifter. “Are we discussing the same fiancée who up and left in the middle of the night because she preferred to travel the world with said pirate?”
“You know perfectly well I changed my mind at the last minute. You abducted me! You can hang for this!”
He shot her a hard look. “Why don’t you swim back to Silverlake and tell him so yourself? I’m certain he’d see the humor in it, as I do. A word of caution—the Caribbean is infested with sharks. Better swim fast.” He sauntered to the mirror and set his snifter on the dresser. He stiffly shrugged out of his shirt and examined his torso in the mirror.
The sight of his tanned, sculpted body still had the power to put her heart in a state, but his behavior tonight made Alanis question her heart’s acuity. A large crimson stain blotted his white bandage. His wound must have opened when she jabbed an elbow in his ribs earlier. Eros swore and drained his snifter. She now understood his sudden attachment to the cognac. An alarm bell went off in her head. Drunken men tended to be vile and savage, but this pirate was vile and savage when he was sober. How would she deal with him smashed out of his wits? “I won’t fix it this time,” she informed him. “You cannot behave as a bully and expect kindness in return.”
“So who asked you?” He splashed water into a basin and washed his face. Sleeking his wet fingers through his dark mane, he met her eyes in the mirror. “Make yourself comfortable. You are not going anywhere, Alanis.”
She untied her cape and dropped it on a chair. “What do you intend to do with me?”
Eros tied his hair and caught her gaze again. “The lowly serf is taking you home.”
Lud. “Home?”
“Home. England. Grandfather. Rings a bell?” He concentrated on removing his bandage.
She wondered if this nightmare was his idea of retribution for the silly things she had said to Lucas about him. Obviously he had overheard. “One remark doesn’t merit the ruination of my life! I saved you from a hanging and from bleeding to death. The least you can do is set me free.”
His irritation took the form of exasperation. “I can’t set you free, Alanis. I wish I could. Regardless of your low opinion of me, this is not about getting even.”
“Then what is it about?” she snapped, and instantly knew the answer. “You are doing this to help your sister.” How could she have been so blind, so gullible? “You lied to me. You never intended to show me the places we talked about. The entire thing was a charade.”
“I didn’t force you. I offered a temptation and you took it. You were as eager to escape Jamaica as I was to get you out. You found the note and came after me, remember?”
“I trusted you!” How could she have misjudged him so? How could she have fallen for his false charm? He was ruthless, and not because he wielded swords and daggers better than most, but because he was chillingly clever, sly as a viper, and totally bereft of a conscience. “What sort of a world creates such an utterly ruined creature, destitute of any humanity?”
He bore her fury without flinching.