Emerald Fire (17 page)

When his lips compressed into a straight line and he didn’t say a word, she knew.

“That’s not fair.”

“It doesn’t matter, Chloe.”

“Yes, it does.” She couldn’t let him walk away from this empty handed. It wouldn’t be right. She’d pay him herself, but the trust fund from her parents was shrinking away. The only thing she really had to offer him was the journal, and it wasn’t a guarantee. At best, it was merely a promise of the proverbial pot of gold.

Yet the thought of sharing the secret with another made her heart pound. For so long, she’d kept her research quiet, hadn’t even shared everything with Uncle Jon. Now, and for the first time ever, she actually considered pulling someone else in. That desire made her want to slow down, to think it over carefully. This wasn’t something one shared on a whim.

“Why are you asking, Chloe?” Finn stopped what he was doing and stared at her. “Why does it matter to you?”

He looked confused, tired, and vulnerable. She was, too, but one thing she was certain of was that he deserved NorthStar. “You gave up everything to save us at your own personal cost.”

And that truth was the reason she contemplated this confession. Sharing a priceless secret didn’t come free, however. She still expected something in return. “What if I told you it didn’t have to be that way? That there’s still a chance you can save your dream for NorthStar?”

He stepped over in front of her, and his close proximity stirred her blood, made her think of the way his lips moved on hers, leaving her as boneless as a jellyfish and wanting more. Suddenly the air in the cabin grew thin.

Then another thought hit her. If he didn’t take her up on this plan, he’d be going home. She wouldn’t see him again. For some reason, that bothered her.

“Are you trying to renegotiate our partnership?” he asked.

She inhaled a deep fortifying breath. “If I was, would you be interested?”

He reached out and brushed her hair off her shoulder, his fingers caressing the underside of her chin. She didn’t move.

“You know, at first I thought you’d jeopardize my chances of recovering the
Emerald Fire
. I wanted whatever information you had, and I wanted you gone. You were like a thorn in my side, but one that I needed to get the job done. Then, to my surprise, I actually started to like you. But then I still wanted you gone because I was afraid you’d get hurt.”

This wasn’t what she’d expected. He should be angry at what he’d lost. This Finnegan, with his soft-spoken honesty, confused her.

“You should go home,” he said in a whisper. “Quit taking insane risks. Stay safe.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t talk, could only stand there in front of him as he lightly traced the edges of her borrowed T-shirt sleeve, touching the bandage on her arm with something that felt strangely like concern.

She didn’t like it. He was doing this on purpose, throwing her off balance to gain the upper hand. She needed to negotiate a new deal and couldn’t think straight. He wanted her to go home, something she fully intended to do. She needed to take down a snake and, if she had to, she’d hire his services. Because she wanted his help in making Lisa pay.

Except right now, at this very moment, the only place she wanted to be was exactly where she was, one step from being wrapped in his arms. And how deeply she wanted that scared her. Now wasn’t the time for this. There was too much at stake. She’d been keeping secrets from him, from everyone, and it was a habit that had become second nature. She wasn’t sure she could change.

She needed to think, to come up with a plan. Instead, she took a step closer to him. So near she could feel the warmth of his chest and see the darkening of his ocean blue eyes. She lifted her face to his and breathed in a long, slow breath. His fingers traced her chin then gently held her steady as he brushed his lips across hers.

It sent her pulse into overdrive.

His hand shifted from her chin, brushed across her cheek, and around to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer and eliminating the last little space between them. He lowered his head, his lips teasing, nibbling little tastes against hers, and she sighed.

It was heaven. It was dangerous. It was all she wanted. After what they’d been through, he was all rough edges and calloused hands, and she clung to him. Savored the delicious feel of hard muscle and warm skin as she slid her palms under the sleeves of his T-shirt.

His arms wrapped around her then, pulled her so tightly against him that she could clearly feel a hardened part of him, one that made her ache deep inside. He captured her mouth with a kiss so demanding, it stole her breath. She instinctively responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and glorying in the feel of his arousal, of her own escalating desire and the friction developing between them.

Reality disappeared under the onslaught of need. He backed her up against the bunk and broke the kiss, only to nuzzle her neck as his hands braced her hips, sliding around to cup her curves and squeeze her against him.

He took a quick step back and ripped off his T-shirt. She loved the sight of his muscular chest and dark sprinkling of fur, but then she spotted his tattoo again, the maritime compass. She didn’t want the reminder, wanted to close her eyes against the reality. But it was too late. She stiffened, and passion fizzled inside her, to be replaced with the notion that doing this with him now was deceitful. Wrong. Not until they’d reached an agreement.

He sensed her withdrawal and took a deep ragged breath. “What is it?” he croaked.

She shook her head, feeling suddenly awkward and unsure what to say. “I can’t do this just yet.”

“You can’t…” He pulled back, shaking his head. “By the saints, woman. Are you trying to kill me?”

She chewed on her lower lip and looked anywhere but directly at him. Kill him? Not hardly. Deceive him and hide her true purpose, yes. Use his hunting skill and brazen approach to bounty recovery for her own ends, probably. But intentionally hurt him? No. The truth was she didn’t want to end this spectacular crappy day with a mistake she didn’t know how to fix.

Weariness seeped through every cell in her body. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s just, there’s something I should tell you first.”

“You want to talk…” He sounded incredulous. “You need to work on your timing, sweetheart.”

That wasn’t the only thing she needed to work on. Her sanity and questionable decision-making skills topped that list.

“We owe you our lives,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Can we get back to business now?”

“Not yet.” She turned around to face the bunk and pulled her backpack closer. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” She pulled her journal out and started removing the layers of protection. “I had another reason for wanting to find the
Fire
.”

He watched her with new interest. “I know. The journal.”

Her heart rate escalated with what she was about to do.
The man from NorthStar will be your guide
. Right or wrong, it was time to trust those words.

Finally, he was going to get some answers. If all it took was to kiss the woman senseless, he’d have pushed those buttons days ago.

“There’s plenty of historical record in the journal.” She sounded nervous and had a little tremor in her voice. “William Desmond lived in a time of great change. And not just during America’s War of 1812. He details efforts of Northern Europe against Napoleon.”

“Sounds interesting, but worth risking your life for?”

She was fidgety and uncertain. Maybe because she was hot and bothered like him and also hated her timing. More likely she didn’t want to be telling him whatever it was she felt compelled to share.

“Desmond was a man who lived in the wrong century.” He watched her move over to the desk, liking the way her hips swayed. She set the book down and opened it, carefully flipping pages until she neared the end. “He was every bit a valiant knight, a protector of his queen.”

He had to force himself to be patient, to let her get to wherever she was headed. But if this really had anything to do with saving NorthStar, he wished she’d just get to the point.

She gently brushed her fingers across a page. “From all that I’ve read, he faithfully served Louise Auguste Mecklenburg, Queen of Prussia. But it was more than that. He loved her.”

Prussian history wasn’t his strong suit, but during college, he did recall having read about a warrior queen who, without her husband and king’s knowledge, signed a treaty to fight against Napoleon’s Grand Armée. He didn’t understand how any of this mattered, but he played along. “Isn’t she the queen who donned battle gear and fought alongside her soldiers?”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Her contribution to history was immeasurable, yet she’s never been given the credit she so richly deserves.”

“Glory isn’t always rewarded.” He could relate. Not that sinking the
Emerald Fire
was glorious, more along the lines of sacrilege, but his dream of tall ship restoration pretty much sank with the yacht. An evening spent tasting the charms of one glorious Chloe Larson might’ve helped ease that pain.

“That’s just it,” she said with a light smile. “In a way, William’s was.”

She’d lost him. “What do you mean?”

“Prussia lost the battle with Napoleon. The resulting French occupation had a drastic impact on the proud queen, and her health declined. It’s written she went home to her father’s estate for a while, in hopes of regaining her strength. That’s where the mystery starts.” A heavy sigh escaped her, and she glanced back at the journal.

Whatever was coming, Finn knew it wasn’t easy for her to say. Which meant things were about to get real interesting.

“By all accounts, the royal marriage was a happy one. Louise was the sixth child of a German Duke. She was beautiful, bright, and a well-loved monarch. Never a hint of scandal, not at home, nor during her marriage to the king. Yet when she returned from her visiting her father, things were strained between the royal couple. Her health still suffered, and a few months later they left for an extended visit with friends in St. Petersburg.”

Finn began to get an idea of where this story was headed. “There was a love child.”

Chloe nodded. “I suspect the father was a man she loved before she married King Frederick.”

“What happened then?” Finn asked.

“Shortly after the royals returned to Prussia, Desmond sailed to America. Along with an infant daughter and a hold full of furniture.”

“Let me guess,” Finn said. “No wife in the picture?”

Chloe shook her head. “No record of one ever existing either.”

“So Desmond accepts the child as his own and leaves Prussia, sparing the royal family the embarrassment of a bastard in the queen’s court.”

“I believe so.”

“Is all that in the journal?” Finn asked.

“Some of it, other parts I’ve pieced together from different historical sources.”

Finn still didn’t get the importance. Fascinating history, but not worth raiding a pirate stronghold. “So it’s a story of infidelity. That’s not uncommon. Why is it relevant today?”

Chloe pulled a little wooden chair out from the desk and sat down. “Desmond realized his mind was in decline and started writing his story down. There’s a marked change in tone between the first half of the book and the second. He grew cryptic and paranoid.”

“Symptoms of dementia?” Finn asked.

“Partially, but I believe it’s more along the lines of what he was trying to protect.”

That was an easy one. “The daughter.”

She nodded. “But that’s not all.” She took a long deep breath and let it out slowly, then looked him straight in the eyes. “Before he left, Queen Louise entrusted him with something else, too. A gift for her child. One he had to swear an oath to keep safe until she came of age.”

Now they were getting to the real crux of the matter. “And that would be?”

“The queen’s royal parure.”

He had no idea what that meant. “Royal what?”

“It’s a dowry of sorts. In those days, high ranking marriages were more of a merger, spouses chosen for their bloodline or wealth.” She turned back to the journal and stared down at the words. “In this case, it refers to a priceless collection of royal emeralds.”

Finn was stunned speechless. He knew it must have been huge, or she wouldn’t have put her life on the line like she had. But he never imagined this.

When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “I’ve done my best to keep it quiet, but a lot of treasure was stolen from Prussia when Napoleon raided. It’s well known that the queen’s dowry vanished. I’m certainly not the only one searching for it.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s one hell of a secret.”

She rested her elbows on the desk and leaned into her hands, fingertips rubbing her temples as though they ached, but she kept talking. “In the end, Desmond trusted no one except a life-long servant and friend.”

“Did the daughter know about the emeralds?”

“I don’t think so. According to his journal, the relationship with his daughter was strained.” Chloe glanced up at him as he stood by the bunk. “Emily married young, had two children of her own, but died in her late twenties. Desmond outlived her, and for whatever reason, he never passed on the secret. I doubt he told her the truth about her birth mother either.”

“So that’s it? He just kept them safely hidden away.”

Chloe nodded. “The more time went by, the more paranoid he became. He constantly wrote about protecting the queen’s secret.”

“What makes you think they’ve never been found? Especially if he left clues in the journal?”

“I don’t. Not one hundred percent. But there has never been a mention of the parure being found. And something that valuable would make a splash.”

That was probably true enough. He slid the other chair next to Chloe and sat down before asking his next question. “Does Lisa Banks know about them?”

“There’s a pretty good chance. My cousin Owen does. He knows about the journal, and I strongly suspect the two are working together.”