Page 34 of The Pirate Takes A Bride

“I don’t understand why I can’t go ashore. You can’t keep me prisoner on this ship forever.”

Nick pulled a clean shirt over his head and turned to face her while he fastened the buttons at his throat. “I told you. I gave orders for you to be brought on shore with the second boat.”

“And when does that sail?”

“As soon as it’s safe.”

She exhaled loudly. “That might be days!”

He shrugged. “If we encounter trouble, I don’t want you in danger.”

“What trouble?” she asked, her gaze on his fingers as he deftly closed the buttons. Her gaze had been on his chest too. She’d drunk him in, and he had to clench his fists to keep from taking her in his arms and finishing what they’d begun the night before.

“Focus on the lion,” he murmured and started on his cravat. His dress might be a bit formal for Isla de las Riquezas, but he never knew when it might pay to look wealthy and powerful.

“Why do you keep saying that? Are there lions on the island?”

“I don’t know what we’ll find on the island,” he answered. “It looks quiet, but I would be certain before I leave my ship undefended or bring you ashore.” He stepped toward her and notched her chin up with a finger. She yanked her head away, obviously not appreciating the gesture. “I’m protecting you, even if you don’t want to be protected.”

“How very much like every other man I’ve ever met.” She waved a hand. “Go. I’ll be here. On the ship. With no choice but to wait.”

“If I’m killed, you may be sorry to end it this way.” One kiss. He had time for one kiss.

“If you’re not killed on shore, you’d best hope I don’t decide to kill you when you come back on board.”

“Charming to the last.” And with that he made a quick departure. He closed the cabin door, and something crashed against it. He flinched and stilled, trying to decide whether or not to go back and make certain his belongings were still intact, but Chante stepped into the companionway. He held out his arms as though they were spider’s legs and pretended to take a large bite.

Nick sighed and climbed the ladder to the deck. His men were assembled, and the ship was at anchor. Now they would see what destruction Yussef had wreaked.

The short voyage from the ship to the island had never seemed so long or so grueling. The men rowed with their usual efficiency and speed, but Nick felt as though the boat treaded water. His heart thumped from fear and anticipation, and he kept his hand on his pistol. Red, who had accompanied him and who stood in the stern, also held a pistol at the ready. Every man was armed, and Nick trusted all of them with his life.

As the island neared, Nick felt a strange sense of wrongness. He heard birds and monkeys calling to each other and insects buzzing. The wind rustled the branches of the stubby palm trees, and the sound of waves lapping the shore was familiar and soothing. But Nick could not remember the last time he’d come to the island and Rissa hadn’t run to greet him, her dark hair flying out behind him. He couldn’t remember a time when the Robin Hood had dropped anchor, and the beach hadn’t been filled with the vibrant colors of the women’s skirts and blouses, the air ringing with their happy laughter and chatter.

Now all was far too silent. Nick’s gut clenched. Please. He did not even know what he prayed for—a miracle perhaps.

As soon as he felt the jolt of land beneath the boat’s hull, he jumped in the water and started for shore. Heedless of the wet soaking through the leather of his fine boots, he tromped to the beach. Red stayed behind, directing the men to pull the boat ashore. Nick, pistol at the ready, studied the barren beach. The village was to the right, up a small rise and set back from the beach. It wasn’t visible from the water, hidden by the rise and a layer of thick vegetation, and was protected by the hills and the cannon. At least, that’s what he’d told himself when he sailed away. Rissa was safe.

But she wasn’t safe. Yussef had been here. It was too quiet. Too still. His eyes narrowed as he studied the path to the village. Vines and weeds had overgrown it, so the usually well-worn walk was all but hidden.

He felt rather than heard his crew move into position behind him. “I don’t like it, Captain,” Red murmured, his voice hushed and eerie on the deserted beach they all remembered being so full of life.

“I don’t either.”

“Could be an ambush.”

Nick shook his head. “I heard too many birds and insects as we rowed ashore. If Yussef lies in wait, it isn’t nearby.” He turned and his gaze swept his men. “Are you ready?”

One by one, the men nodded in assent. Nick looked at their faces. Many of them were so young, barely men. He did not want to think what they’d see, what they’d find on the other side of the rise. He’d willingly sent them into battle, asked them to risk their lives for him. But he did not want to send them into this, into the grief that surely awaited them all.

“Then follow me. Have your weapons at the ready.”

Nick led the men over the sand and into the sparse trees where the island took over from the sea. The trees and vegetation became thick and difficult to traverse the farther into the island one ventured. Halfway up the rise, the land was dark and almost cool from the shade of nettle and carob trees. He started up the rise, following the usual path, and that was when he smelled it. He paused, lifting his chin to scent the air.

“Smoke,” he murmured. “Old smoke.” Something had burned here. He walked on, steeling himself for the sight of the village below. He’d almost reached the top of the rise, a few inches from seeing what lay below, when his foot struck something soft and pliant. He looked down, expecting to see a rotting branch. Instead, he stared at a dried-out, blackish limb that had once been an arm.

He closed his eyes and lifted his hand, signaling those following him to stop. Now he knew why he’d felt so uneasy. The scent of death was here as well. He put a handkerchief over his nose and bent to clear the undergrowth.

He recognized the necklace lying beside her at once, but what he saw of the rest of the once lovely and kind woman made Nick glad he had not eaten breakfast nor imbibed in rum. He had seen death before. He had witnessed it first-hand, but Death was never so cruel as when it dealt a blow to a loved one—a wife or...mother.

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