Destiny's Captive (10 page)

“Here in the Keys. Most of my countrymen are here.”

“Many Cubans have also settled in Yorba City,” Miguel added. “But I'd prefer to have my sister and her daughters near me whether Simona agrees with that arrangement or not.”

Because Noah had already staked his claim, Miguel would be doing without Pilar's company. “Senora, may I have your permission to tour the gardens with Pilar after we're done here?”

Pilar glanced up. She didn't appear pleased by the request, but he'd expected that and was looking forward to their sparring.

“I'm sure that will be fine, Mr. Yates. Are you agreeable, Pilar?”

She shrugged. “Why not.”

“You will conduct yourself as a gentleman?” her mother asked him pointedly.

“Always.”

Pilar's tiny eye roll made him smile inwardly.

So after dinner, they went walking. At the outset, she refused to take his arm. “I'm a twenty-five-year-old woman who's been to war, not a simpering girl needing a man's arm to keep from falling down.”

“Understood,” he replied with light amusement. “Is there anything you might need a man for at your advanced age?”

That earned him a look of disapproval. “Not as far as I know.”

“Such innocence.”

“Meaning?”

“When we marry, I'll explain.”

“Ah, the kissing and the marriage bed, correct? I doubt either will leave me weak-kneed.”

They came upon a bench set within a stand of fragrant jasmine as beautiful as he thought her to be. “Shall we sit?”

“If you insist,” she said disinterestedly.

He couldn't wait to give that sassy mouth something to do, but that also would come in time. “So, did you enjoy your visit with Senor Shorty?”

“His name is Luis Garcia.”

“My apology, but I prefer my name. More apropos, I think. You couldn't possibly be interested in being his wife?”

“I'm not interested in being your wife either, but I'm entertaining it.”

“
Touché, mi pequeño pirata
,” he replied, mixing the French with the Spanish.

“And I do wish you wouldn't address me that way.”

He was having such a good time with her. “Because . . .?”

“Because the way you say it, it sounds like . . .” Her words trailed off and she looked away.

He gently turned her face back to him and stared down into her flashing brown eyes. “Like an endearment?”

She nodded.

“Suppose I told you it was.” He found the curve of her lips mesmerizing. “Do you really think you're immune to a man's kisses?”

She backed out of his light hold on her chin. “If you suggested this walk so you could kiss me, please do so, so I can return to the house.”

He steepled his fingers and studied her silently. What a little hornet she was. Her response proved she had no idea he could remove her stinger in ways that would not only leave her weak-kneed but craving more as well.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Why the hesitation? Are you going to kiss me or not?”

“I think not.”

She blinked with surprise. “May I ask your reason?”

The feather-light line he drew down her cheek made her eyes slowly slide shut. The tender tremble of her skin in response to his touch was highly arousing. “You aren't ready, but then again, I could be wrong.”

“Being kissed is not going to make me . . .”

His lips gently met hers and the contact made her immediately soften. “Oh my,” he heard her sigh.

Under his coaxing invitation, her mouth opened and he teased the ripeness with tiny movements of his tongue. She purred and he husked out, “This is what a man is for.” He wanted to drag her onto his lap and savor the warm pressure of her weight against him but that too would come in time. Instead, he contented himself with kisses: teaching her, tasting her, and silently letting her know that he wasn't immune to her either. Leaving her parted lips for a moment, he traveled down to fleetingly sample the thin band of bare skin above her collar, and when he flicked his tongue against it, she whimpered with pleasure. Moving his lips to her ear, he breathed, “You were saying,
chiquita
?”

She responded by bringing her hand up and pulling him closer. He thrilled at that and his manhood awakened. She was the loveliest, sweetest thing he had had in his arms in recent memory and all he wanted to do was show her the full measure of what desire meant. And then, as if she'd suddenly realized just how responsive she'd become, she stiffened. Her eyes popped open and she looked appalled. He watched with silent amusement.

She jumped to her feet. “I—I have to go.”

He nodded but kept his laugh to himself.

She stammered, “Good—good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Pilar.”

She all but ran back in the direction they'd come.

Rattled and outdone, Pilar stood in her bedroom with her back against the closed door and tried to slow her racing heart. How in the world had she lived twenty-five years and not known the power a man's kisses could wield? The instant his lips met hers she'd melted into the stone bench as if she'd been rendered boneless.
This is what a man is for
. . . Hearing that, she'd wanted to throw back a tart, clever rejoinder, but what he was doing to her mouth with his, and to the corners of her lips with the fiery tip of his tongue, left her with the brain of a crustacean. There were no weapons in her bow for this. He'd set her adrift, rudderless, no sails. When his hot lips moved to the trembling skin beneath her jaw, her hand had suddenly grown a mind of its own and drawn him closer. A part of her had found the heat of him against her glorious; his teasing tongue divine, until a voice in her mind woke up and screamed:
What are you doing!
That's when she knew she had to flee. She drew a still trembling hand over her face. Whatever was she going to do!

Only then did she see her sister across the room seated in front of her easel, brush in hand.

Doneta scanned her for a silent moment before asking “He kissed you, didn't he?”

“No.”

“You're lying. From the looks of you, you were either kissed or struck by lightning.”

“Hush!”

Doneta smiled knowingly and resumed painting. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

“I'm not speaking to you.”

“Suit yourself, but you're doomed now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Once the young lady is kissed—all she wants is more of the same.”

Pilar moved away from the door and walked to her own bed and sat down. “That's ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Were I you, I'd end the courtship and go straight to the wedding.”

“But you're not me.”

“No, I'm not. But if I were, I'd know that hoping for a miracle to make this all go away will not be forthcoming. You're being pursued by a man so delicious he makes most sane women's teeth ache the moment he walks into a room. Just surrender and find some happiness.”

Pilar fell back on the bed and cried out in frustration, “But I don't want to marry him.”

“That's the rebel gun smuggler speaking. What's the woman in you saying?”

Pilar refused to explore the opinion of the newly awakened part of herself because she wanted her to go away and never be heard from again. She also refused to admit that her sister knew way more about this madness than she'd ever imagined.

“Your answer?”

“I'm not speaking to you, remember.”

Doneta put brush to canvas. “That's right. I forgot, but when you're ready to talk about what a great kisser he is, let me know.” She smoothly ducked the shoe Pilar aimed at her head.

T
he following morning, Noah sipped coffee while standing out on the verandah of his rented room and watched the sunrise. All he could think about was Pilar. He chuckled at the memory of her face just before she took off running and shook his head at her efforts to deny what he already knew. She was a passionate woman—not only in life but in his arms as well and he couldn't wait to show her just how much. Oddly enough, he'd slept the entire night. Usually a few hours was all his body seemed to want, which he took as its way of avoiding the nightmares. They hadn't plagued him recently, but he knew they were there, looming, waiting to pounce and feed on the pain and horror that continued to lurk inside. However, as he'd noted before, being around his little pirate seemed to be an antidote to the island's lingering poison. He had no idea how long it might hold, but he would enjoy her and his life for as long as it lasted.

Still musing on her, he wondered if she'd awakened yet or was still asleep. The idea of waking up beside her at some point in the near future was pleasing to contemplate. Did she snore? Would she hog the bedding while they slept? Would she enjoy making love in the early-morning hours as the first light of dawn streamed through their bedroom windows? All questions he had no answers for, but he looked forward to having them resolved.

In the meantime, he'd be spending the day touring Miguel's warehouse with an eye to learning how the operation could be expanded so they could increase their profits. He'd spent yesterday touring boatyards with the hope of finding a vessel to replace the
Alanza
but what he'd seen had been either too old, too small, or too large. The ship once named for his mother had been perfect in every way and coming across one with similar attributes was going to take a lot longer than he'd initially imagined. He planned to be patient, however, even though it was not one of his virtues.

And because he struggled with patience, he was chafing at the idea of prolonging this courtship. Yesterday's kisses among the jasmine made him crave more; much more. He wondered how Miguel and Desa Banderas would react if he proposed ending it and moving on to the wedding. He could already imagine Pilar's. She'd have to be dragged kicking and screaming to stand before a priest, and getting her to willingly repeat the vows would be about as easy as teaching a dolphin to build a fence. Ideally, his family would be in attendance. Watching him marry no matter the circumstances would ease all the worry they'd been harboring about him these past ten years—especially his mother—but that was probably impossible, so he put it out of his mind. But Pilar stayed with him. He planned to see her later, and so to precipitate that he finished his coffee and stepped back inside to finish dressing so he could meet Miguel at the warehouse.

The tour Miguel gave him took up most of the morning. They visited the rooms where the leaves of tobacco were stored for curing and he watched with awe as workers expertly hand rolled the leaves into the cigars he'd come to enjoy. After he and Miguel talked logistics, they paused for coffee and sat outside to enjoy the nice day.

“I want to thank you for requesting the hand of my niece.”

“You're welcome. I'm enjoying the challenge.”

“I worry that were it not for you she'd be a burden to her mother for the rest of her life.”

“How so?”

“I doubt any other man here would offer for her. Luis Garcia doesn't count. He's a widower looking for someone to raise his five children and any woman will do.”

“I doubt Pilar would have a problem finding suitors.”

“You're very kind, Noah, but no sane man would want a woman who fights with a sword and may be wanted by the crown for smuggling guns as his wife. Not that you're insane, of course.”

Noah smiled at him over his raised cup. “I find her fascinating.”

“I find her wild and untamed.”

Noah paused and studied him.

“Don't get me wrong. She is my niece and I would defend her with my life, but I don't approve of the way she was raised—or not raised, depending on how you view it. She was obviously allowed more freedom than was good for her and I lay that not at my sister's feet but at the feet of her late husband Javier. He was not the man my parents planned for her to marry, but Desa had always been headstrong and rebellious and made her own choice by turning her back on her
novio
on her wedding day.”

“Pilar and I discussed a bit of the story.”

“Then I won't rehash it, only to say I don't wish my daughters to think they too can be wild and untamed.”

Noah tried not to be judgmental. “So you'd feel better if Pilar were not around them.”

“I don't wish to sound uncharitable, but yes. Call me old-fashioned, but a daughter like Pilar would have put me in my grave long ago. My heart stopped when I saw her with that rapier in her hand and then to discover she actually knew how to use it.” He shook his head. “I couldn't believe it.”

“Do you wish to amend the courting terms?”

“Frankly, yes. Of course, Desa may not, but I do. And if the authorities are indeed on my nieces's trail, it would be better for all involved if she were in California and not in my home or her mother's.”

Noah wanted to point out the holes in the man's position but didn't. As Miguel stated, he was old-fashioned and had been raised to believe a woman's place didn't involve gun smuggling or rapiers, but having been raised by Alanza the Brave, Noah knew that not all women were meek and content to spend their life being told how that life should be led. He also didn't point out that throughout history, females had participated in the fight for freedom in countries all over the world. “You plan to speak with Senora Banderas about this?”

“I do. The sooner you and Pilar marry, the better it would be—of course I have no idea whether you agree or not, but I sense you might.”

In truth, Miguel's angst played right into Noah's hands, but rather than admit he'd marry Pilar in an hour if the arrangements could be made, he replied, “Speak with your sister and if she agrees, we'll discuss how we might move forward.”

“Thank you, Noah.”

He inclined his head and their talk returned to the business of cigars.

P
ilar was in the garden once again, sitting for the portrait, when her mother interrupted them. “Pilar, Gerardo Calvo is here.”

Pilar stilled. “Here?”

“Yes. He needs to speak with you right away.”

Why would the Cuban shipyard owner suddenly seek her out this way? she wondered. It had to be something of importance. Was it news concerning Tomas and the other men lost that night? Had General Maceo marched on Havana? Dozens of questions competed to be answered and all were underlined with a rising dread.

When she entered the parlor, her mother left them alone.

“It's good to see you, again Senor Calvo,” Pilar said.

“I feel the same. I bring you sad news, however. You friend Tomas is dead. He was captured the night the boat was sunk, along with two of my men, and tortured. I've no idea what happened to the third man who sailed with you.”

Her heart stopped.

“Our allies tell us that the crown is now searching for you as well. No one knows what information the men may have revealed before their deaths but you would be wise not to return to Cuba.”

The rebels knew the dangers inherent in their fight but she felt solely responsible for the deaths. Knowing she'd never see Tomas again left an ache inside too terrible to bear. “Were arrangements made for his burial?”

Calvo shook his head. “I'm told his body along with the others was thrown into the sea and his mother taken to one of the camps.”

“No!” she cried. His elderly mother would never survive the terrible conditions there. The camps were filled with disease, filth, vermin, and starvation. Pilar found it hard to breathe.

“You might want to disappear for a time. Spain may or may not be able to touch you legally here but they do have eyes and ears in the Keys and in Yorba City, and I'd put nothing past them. I plan to vanish for a time as well. Like you, I know too much about the other
arañas
in our webs to risk being taken and tortured.”

It was wise advice. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Only that our side has put out the rumor that you drowned that night, but whether it will be believed . . .?” He shrugged.

She understood. “Thank you for coming, senor.”

“You've been an asset for many years, Pilar Banderas. It was the least I could do.”

“I'm so sorry for the deaths of your men.”

“So am I,” he whispered before he bowed and exited, leaving her alone.

Pilar dropped into a chair and silently wept for Tomas and his mother. She and her lifelong friend would never sail together or ride into the mountains or share smiles, ever again. The knowledge that he'd suffered so and was denied the decent burial owed every human being added to her despair. She knew he'd not want her to blame herself but she did, and with no idea if she'd ever be able to forgive herself. Spain had taken yet another person from her life and she swore to do everything in her power to keep that from happening again. She hadn't been sure before, but Calvo's visit cemented the fact that she and, more important, her mother and sister were in danger. Momentarily setting aside her grief, she thought about her options and after coming to a decision got to her feet. She knew what had to be done.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” her uncle asked when he came home.

“Yes.” She'd already discussed her decision with her mother and sister and although they agreed, they were saddened.

“Okay,” he replied somberly, “Noah is due to arrive any moment. When he does, I will send him in to speak with you.”

“Thank you, Tio.”

Alone in her uncle's study, Pilar looked out of the windows while she waited. Dusk would be descending soon on a day that began with sunshine and blue skies and was now filled with sorrow and sadness. There was no way of knowing where her life might be by the time night fell, but she was determined to face it with resolve. A soft knock on the door interrupted her musings. “Come in.”

And there he stood. He viewed her silently and worry filled his face. She knew her eyes were still red from her tears but that couldn't be helped. “Close the door, please.”

He complied. “What's happened?”

So she told him of Calvo's visit, Tomas's terrible demise and Calvo's parting advice. When she finished, she vowed, “I will not let Spain take another loved one from my life, so I plan to take the advice and disappear.” Even though her next words were necessary, the parts of herself that had stood tall and without fear for so many years wept inside at what she was about to do. “If you will still have me, I'd like to get married as soon as possible.”

To his credit, he didn't poke fun at her or do anything else to add to her pain. “Your decision is wise. And yes, I still want you as my wife,” he assured her quietly. “I doubt we'll be able to purchase train tickets this late in the day but we can see about that first thing in the morning. Does your uncle know a priest who will conduct the ceremony without the necessary papers?”

Her relief soothed only a portion of her inner conflict. “I spoke with him earlier and he says he does.”

“Then have him contact the padre so we can move forward.”

“Thank you. If you will wait here, I'll let him know.”

She walked to the door and as she came abreast of him he gently caught her hand. “This will work out, Pilar.”

“It didn't for Tomas,” she replied and exited.

They were married an hour later. At her mother's insistence she wore the mint-green gown she'd worn to her uncle's
rumba
, while Noah remained in the same black suit he'd worn upon arrival. It was necessary for him to donate a large amount of money to the coffers of the priest's church in exchange for the hasty summons and lack of requisite documents. There would be no mass conducted of course but neither of them cared as long as the certificate proving they were man and wife was signed and sealed. Once that was done, the priest departed.

Feeling as if she were encased in stone, Pilar said to him, “Thank you again. I will do my best to be a good wife.”

Noah said in kind, “And I shall do my best to be a good husband.”

It had already been decided that they would leave right after the ceremony, so she excused herself to go pack.

Up in her room, she placed her small amount of clothing and personal belongings in a case borrowed from her uncle. Her mother and sister looked on sadly.

When she finished, their mother asked Doneta, “Will you leave us a moment please?”

Doneta slipped out and closed the door behind her.

“Do you have any questions about your wedding night, Pilar?”