Lord of Devil Isle (17 page)

Nick dressed with care, making sure every button was fastened, every seam on his breeches straight. His balls still ached, but the pain had subsided to a manageable discomfort. The nausea had passed. He pulled his hair back into a queue and bound it with a leather thong. Finally, he cocked his tricorne on his head at a rakish angle.

After all, a gentleman had to be at his best to do a lady the honor she “deserved.” Satisfied, he took a final look around the cabin. He’d made the bunk and tidied the small space. There was fresh water in the ewer and a clean towel hanging from the peg.

She’d have no cause for complaint now.

He made his way to the prow where Higgs and Eve were involved in a heated, but whispered conversation. He listened for a few seconds, but couldn’t make out any of the words. She sounded upset and off balance. Every few seconds, she knocked her fist on the rail.

Miss Upshall was discomfited. That was something at least.

“Ah, there you are,” he said as he came around a large coil of rope. “Thank you, Mr. Higgs. Relieve Mr. Tatem at the wheel, if you please. I’ll stand the rest of your watch. That’ll be all.”

Higgs saluted smartly and turned on his heel as if the great divide that now yawned between them was but a figment of Nick’s imagination.

“But, Captain—” Eve began.

“Nicholas,” he corrected. “I rather think it’s too late to return to formalities between you and me, Eve. Don’t you agree?”

She turned and rested both forearms on the gunwale. “Nevertheless, I would prefer that we observe them.”

“Oh, aye, I’ve heard a great deal about your preferences this night.” He settled against the rail beside her, turned so he could watch the moonlight silver her features. “In this instance, I fear you’ll just have to bear the disappointment. I shall continue to call you Eve and I insist you call me Nicholas.”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“It would be inappropriate not to. For good or ill, we are no longer mere acquaintances whom bad luck and the sea have tossed together.” He noticed her hands were trembling. “My dear Eve, we are ‘intimates’ and the sooner you come to terms with it, the better off you’ll be.”

“You mean the better off you’ll be.” She clutched her hands together to still them. “After all, it would mean you have a mistress to swive whenever you’ve a mind to.”

He made a tsking sound, though her earthy tongue amused more than shocked him.

“Did I say anything more about you becoming my mistress?” He covered her hands with one of his. They were icy cold. She pulled them away and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “No, I just pointed out the obvious. You can’t unring a bell. You can’t undo a deed.”

“And it’s much easier for a man to take advantage of a woman he’s already ruined and insist she become his mistress,” she hissed at him. “What a very convenient philosophy.”

“No, it’s more an acknowledgment of the facts.” He
grinned down at her. “We have been lovers, Eve. No amount of formal language can change that. But evidently you’re still thinking about becoming my mistress since you keep bringing it up.”

She whipped back her arm to strike him, but he caught her hand and held it fast.

“I think there’s been enough violence done between us this night, don’t you?” he asked softly, his gaze never wavering from hers. The fire went out of her eyes and she bit her lower lip.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she said, tears trembling on her lower lashes.

“And I you.”

Where did that come from?

Apologies were for weaklings. All he’d done was offer to provide her with a life of luxury and shared pleasure at his side. Why was he apologizing for that?

He cleared his throat. “I believe you want your own accommodations.”

“Mr. Higgs mentioned your smuggler’s hold as a possibility.”

“And I should have the turncoat flogged for it,” he said with a snort.

Her eyes flared wide and he could have kicked his own arse.

“No! Please, Mr. Higgs didn’t do anything wrong. It was my fault. I—”

He grasped her shoulders.
Christ, why did I mention flogging to her of all people?
“Steady on, Eve. I’m not such a monster as that. Mr. Higgs is in no danger from me.” He loosened his grip but didn’t release her. “And neither are you. If you’ll come with me, I have a private cabin prepared for you.”

She blinked in surprise. “Where?”

“If I’m not in it with you, what does it matter?” He offered her his arm. “My absence seems to be your main requirement, after all.”

She hooked a hand around his elbow. “You make it sound as if I’m being unreasonable.”

Aren’t you?
he wanted to ask, but he bit back his frustration.

He’d never had a woman refuse him. None of them had even led him much of a chase. It was enough for him to crook a little finger and they’d come running. And once he bedded them, they always seemed ready for more of his brand of bedplay. Eve had certainly enjoyed it if her body-bucking climax was any measure. He couldn’t decide if he was bewildered or hurt by her aversion to him now.

“I think you’ll find this arrangement to your liking,” he said, trying to keep his tone even as he walked her across the open deck.

She cast him a sidelong glance. “I don’t know. I wasn’t terribly receptive to your last offer of an ‘arrangement.’ My opinion has not altered since our last conversation. I will not be your kept woman.”

“There you go, bringing up being my mistress again,” he said with a wry grin. “Have I said aught more about the proposition?”

“No,” she admitted with a frown. “But you were thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “You’re right. However, no man may be held accountable for his thoughts, Eve.” His smile faded, as he chased those libidinous ideas. “No matter how pleasurable, how forbidden those thoughts may be.”

Nicholas stopped and gazed down at her. Lust flared in him again. Her lips parted slightly and he remembered how she’d looked when she came beneath him,
slack-mouthed, passion-spent and gasping. He could still taste her salty-sweet slit.

“Nicholas…” Her lids drooped and he sensed she, too, was reliving their lovemaking. It felt so right between them, this fiery connection, this instant surge of heat.

If she were any other woman, he’d scoop her up then and there and carry her back to his bed. He’d take her hard and fast and make her body remember she wanted him, even if her lips claimed she didn’t.

He’d prove her a liar.

But she wasn’t any other woman. She was Eve. And he wanted more than a good hard swive from her. Much more.

He just wasn’t sure how to get it. Or even what “it” was.

Love?

He batted that notion away. His last bout with love had ended with heartache all around. Love was loss. Love was pain. It was pure folly to even consider taking to those murky waters again.

And yet, here was Eve Upshall standing before him, doe-eyed and ripe for the taking.

But not if the price was love.

He cupped her cheek. “No woman may be held accountable for her thoughts either.” Her skin was like satin under his hand and he sensed her leaning slightly into his touch. “Unless she wants to act on them of her own free will.”

That broke the spell. Eve turned her eyes away. “Please take me to my new accommodations.”

“You’ll find them rather like your old ones,” he said as he led her back down the companionway.

“No, Nick.” She stopped dead in the narrow space. “I’ll not share a cabin with you.”

“I’m not expecting you to.” He opened the cabin door
and waved her in. “Please accept my quarters as your own for the duration of our voyage.” When she didn’t budge, he propped the door open and strode in by himself. He unhooked his hammock from the low ceiling beams. “I’ll string my bed with the men belowdecks for now.”

“You would do this for me?” she said softly.

Christ, he’d battled a shark for her, hadn’t he? When would the woman learn he’d do anything for her? But he only said, “Aye, lass. It’s a small matter.”

“Not to me.” Eve stepped back into the cabin. The space still held the musk of their lovemaking, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, Nicholas.”

She stood on tiptoe and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Her tremulous smile warmed him clear to his toes.

Nick beat a hasty retreat. He sensed he’d won a strategic victory of some sort. Staying any longer might tempt him beyond bearing and he didn’t want to give back the slight advantage he’d gained.

Once he closed the cabin door behind him, he sagged against it, shaking his head. He’d never been so off balance. His life had always been about setting goals and achieving them. Since it was clear Eve wouldn’t be his mistress, he wasn’t even sure what outcome to hope for in this romantic skirmish.

He only knew that he had made her happy.

And even though he’d spend the rest of the voyage swinging in a hammock alongside his sweaty, farting, snoring crew, he was strangely happy, too.

The trip from St. Georges to the Turks should have taken them five days, owing to a favorable current. Since the storm blew the
Susan Bell
well out of that invisible path in the sea, it took nine days instead.

Eve stood at the gunwale and peered into the distance. The color of the sea had lightened from deep indigo to delicate turquoise, so she knew the ocean floor was rushing up to meet the
Susan B
’s hull. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of sun on the water. At the edge of the earth, she saw faint blue and white smudges.

“Is that Turks?” she asked Nick, who was standing beside her with his spyglass at one eye while he scanned the horizon.

“Aye, lass.” He handed her the glass so she could see a hint of palm trees rising from the blur of land. “’Tis the second point on our little triangle.”

“Triangle?” Eve frowned, trying to pick out anything that resembled one on the distant shore.

“Our trade triangle.”

Nick had removed himself from his cabin, but his instruments and charts were still stored there. Eve had been privy to his navigational calculations and was amazed by his mathematical abilities. When she expressed her admiration, he merely said, “It’s all just lines and angles, basic geometry really.”

Now she realized he often thought in the shapes of navigation as well.

“Bermuda and Turks,” she said. “And the third corner of your triangle is…?”

“Charleston,” he admitted, then hurried on. “Think of it as a triangle with all sides the same length. We have more cedar than we need in Bermuda, but there’s no lumber to speak of on Turks or Caicos. Those little islands are dotted with natural
salinas
where seawater collects through the rocks and leaves behind a thick brine. The Colonies are always desperate for more salt. We need foodstuffs from the Colonies and so the triangle is complete.”

“And you profit at every corner of the triangle,” she said, but all she was thinking was
Charleston.
He was going to take her to Charleston, after all. And by rights, she should be thrilled, but for some unaccountable reason, her belly spiraled downward.

“Aye, lass, but don’t sound so doubtful about it. There’s no harm in profit,” he said with a grin. “After all, it’s my ship and crew taking the risks. It’s only fair we should reap some benefits.”

He hadn’t even tried to reap anything from her for the last few days. Eve sighed and mentally cursed herself. She should be grateful he stayed away. It saved her from having to shove him aside if he was still intent on making her his mistress instead of offering marriage as a gentleman should.

But in the meantime, she noticed him intently at every turn. The crisp dark hairs peeping from the deep vee in his shirt, the way his eyes met hers at unguarded moments, his strong hands on the ship’s wheel—they all made her squirm inside her clothes. Even keeping his distance, the man had the power to seduce.

“Look sharp, lads,” Nick called out. He gave the order to drop some of the ship’s canvas in order to slow their approach. “The sandbars shift from time to
time and we don’t want to end up like those poor bastards.”

He pointed down into the crystalline water to the wavering remnants of a ship whose back was broken over the coral on the steeply rising ocean floor. A long barracuda floated over the sunken prow.

“The islanders scavenge every wreck they can, but this one’s pretty deep,” Nick said. “Went down in the last hurricane, I’ll wager.”

Eve watched the wreck passing beneath them until it fell astern. When she looked up, the islands were drawing nearer. She could tell that, like Bermuda, Turks and Caicos was a cluster of little dots of land all alone in the vast blue. The
Susan Bell
skirted along the eastern edge of the archipelago.

“Prepare to drop anchor,” Nick ordered.

“We’re not going in to port?” Eve asked as the men scurried to do Nick’s bidding.

“There is no port,” he explained. “No deep harbor. The
Susan B
is shallow on the draft, but even she’d have her belly scraped if we dared too much farther. So we anchor outside the reef and use the jolly boat. Will you be pleased to go ashore, Eve?”

“Oh, yes,” she said gratefully. She was mortally tired of having the world heaving beneath her feet. “I assume there’s a decent inn.”

Nick grinned. “You assume wrong. Grand Turk is but a notch or two above a pirate’s hole, but I’ll see you suitably protected from the rain. I’ve a business partner on the island I usually stay with, but I warn you, the ratio of men to women is decidedly lopsided here. You’ll have to share a chamber with me if you decide to venture ashore, for your own protection.”

“And who’ll protect me from you?”

“I will,” he said softly.

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Stay or go as you please, Eve. It’s of no consequence to me either way, but if you are going, I need to know now.” His knuckles whitened as he grasped the gunwale. “Choose.”

She looked up into his deeply tanned face. His dark eyes searched hers, but otherwise he was perfectly still. She didn’t even think he drew a breath.

“I’d like to go,” she said.

His lips twitched, but otherwise she had no idea if he was pleased or disappointed. He touched the brim of his tricorne briefly and left her side to supervise the anchoring of his ship at a safe distance from the white shore.

Eve looked back at the island, where clumps of palms swayed. Tangles of blooms overlooked the long stretch of sand. A breeze brought the scent of hibiscus and oleander wafting toward them. If ever there was a setting for seduction, this was it.

“What am I doing?” she murmured.

But for the life of her, she wouldn’t undo it. Nicholas didn’t seem to want her to come ashore, especially. Did he have a brown-skinned girl waiting for him on this island?

The mere thought of Nick with another woman disturbed her. For good or ill, she loved him and she couldn’t bear to lose him.

But if he didn’t love her, she couldn’t very well keep him either. Eve remembered her first day at St. Georges and the gorgeous dark-haired woman who whipped her horse past them as they drove up to Nick’s home for the first time.

That’d be Magdalen Frith. Lord Nick’s regular lady,
Reggie Turnscrew had told them.

At the time, Eve was too concerned over what would meet them at the top of the hill to spare any thought
for the woman barreling down it. Now she wondered about Miss Frith.

And all the others who had undoubtedly preceded her.

If Eve relented and became Nick’s mistress, how long would it be before he tired of her and sent her packing down that long, winding cart path? Wouldn’t losing him be all the more bitter after having had him?

“Miss Upshall? The cap’n sends his compliments and asks will you be pleased to board the jolly boat?” Mr. Higgs’s voice pulled her from her dark musings.

Eve followed Higgs to the opposite side of the ship, where the landing party was climbing over the gunwale to the boat bobbing alongside. Nick was already at the tiller of the small craft.

“I can’t clamber down like that,” Eve said. Not only would she likely lose her footing or catch her hem in the rope ladders, but all the men in the jolly boat would be treated to a view up her broad skirts.

“Of course not, miss,” Higgs said. “That’s why the captain asked us to set up the hoist. We use it to load cargo when we’re riding at anchor like this, but it’ll do fine to lower you to the jolly boat.”

Seaman Tatem brought out a woven cane chair and lashed it to the end of the boom. Eve settled into it and tucked her skirts tight, both around and between her legs. The crew heaved her up and over the gunwale. Then they lowered her gently down to the waiting boat while Nick shouted directions.

Nicholas was there to grab the swaying chair with a grin on his face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No, it was fun, actually,” she admitted. “Much better than having you strap a rope around me and haul me up like you did that first night.”

“Not from this vantage point,” he said with a rakish grin as he helped her onto the seat beside him. “I much preferred the other view.”

Higgs and the remaining crew hauled the cane seat back up. Then Nicholas raised his voice. “Cast off, lads. Now put your backs into it.”

Eight pairs of oars moved in concert as the jolly boat pulled away from the
Susan B
and rocked over the waves toward shore.

Once the hull scraped the beach, the first pair of seaman leaped into the spray and hauled on the prow, dragging the boat forward. The next set of oarsmen followed suit. Finally Nick stepped into the curling surf up to his knees, holding out his arms to Eve.

“Only one way to land without wetting your feet,” he said as he scooped her up and carried her past the sand to the sparse salt grass.

“Nicholas Scott, as I live and breathe,” came a booming baritone from behind a tall clump of date palms. “I always tell Maia you’ll die at the hands of a jealous husband. I can only assume none have caught you yet.”

Eve turned to see a large man in tattered knee britches and a buttonless waistcoat lumbering toward them. He wore no shirt and his bare arms and chest were as dark as some of Nick’s African crewmen, but his long, English face and startling blue eyes proclaimed him a displaced son of London.

“I see Maia’s cooking is still as fine as ever, Hugh,” Nick said as he set Eve lightly on her feet. “You’ve gained two stone over the winter if you’ve gained an ounce.”

The man patted his protruding brown belly. “My woman likes a man with meat on his bones and who am I to argue?”

His eyes flicked over Eve with amused interest.
“Hallo, luv.” He removed a greasy and battered tricorne to reveal a bald, freckled pate. The man sketched the memory of a courtly leg to her. “Hugh Constable’s the name. Who might you be and what in the name of the briny deep is a high-in-the-instep miss like yourself doing with a no-good, smuggling son of a blowfish like our Nicholas Scott?”

Eve decided she liked this odd fellow very much. “I’m Eve Upshall and I ask myself the same question with regularity, Mr. Constable.”

The man threw back his head and laughed. “Call me Hugh,” he said as he crammed his disreputable hat back on his head. “We’re too poor here on Grand Turk to afford niceties like last names.”

“Don’t let him fool you, Eve,” Nick said. “Hugh is the richest man on the island.”

“Which is a little like being the only one-eyed man in a kingdom of blind fellows.” Hugh winked at her. “But we rub together well enough here.”

Hugh clapped a ham-sized hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Come on up to the house and we’ll raise a pint or two.”

Nick gave instructions for Tatem and a pair of rowers to ferry the jolly boat back to the ship to fetch the next group of sailors bound for shore. Only a skeleton crew would stay on board the
Susan B
and the men rotated that duty so all had a chance to feel dry land beneath their feet at some point during their stay on the island.

Hugh led Eve and Nick up to a cart path where his mule-drawn gig waited. There was only room for Eve on the seat beside Hugh, so Nick stood on the rear of the equipage and clung to the handrail. They set off with a clatter of wheels down the road, which was little more than two sandy tracks overgrown with salt grass.

Off to her left, Eve saw workers knee-deep in shallow
ponds, skimming white brine with wooden rakes. They passed several leaning, ramshackle huts that had never seen a coat of paint.

“Don’t mind our living arrangements, Eve,” Hugh said. “Not much point in building a palace if the next hurricane will knock it down again. Usually all that’s needed is a place to get out of the rain or the baking sun.”

Eve shook her head. “And when a hurricane comes, where do people turn for shelter?”

“Some go to the caves. There are a few about the island. But most of my people come to Go Lightly—that’s my house.” He pointed to the low-slung home rambling ahead of them on a bluff overlooking the endless ocean. “Limestone walls, you see. Go Lightly might lose a roof sometimes, but those walls are hell for stout.”

As they drew nearer, Eve realized Go Lightly wasn’t one structure, but several, built close together around a central court with palm-covered walkways connecting each separate room.

“Right-o, here we are then,” Hugh said as he tugged the mule to a halt before the largest of the stone structures.

A woman with cinnamon-colored skin appeared at the open door dressed in a vibrant, off-one-shoulder garment that appeared to be merely draped around her buxom form. Her kinky hair was shorn close to her head, accentuating her strong features. A dusting of white hair graced her temples.

A wide smile split her dark face as she recognized her visitor and moved toward them with the grace of a she-panther. She was as bright and exotic and sensually earthy as the flowering shrubs lining her walkway.

“Ni-cho-las Scott, you black-eyed devil-child,” she called out in a sultry voice that caressed and stretched
each syllable of his name. “It’s too long since my eyes have seen your handsome face, bwoy.”

“Maia, you gorgeous creature.” Nick hugged her and kissed both her round cheeks. “When are you going to leave this old sod and run away with me?”

Eve blinked in surprise. Maia was not the sort of brown-skinned girl she’d envisioned waiting for Nicholas on Grand Turk.

Maia swatted his shoulder with her pink-palmed hand and laughed. “Shame on you, young cub. It makes no never mind about Hugh. He’s used to menfolk trying to steal me away, but don’t you try to turn my head in front of your lady.”

Maia turned to Eve and smiled. “Here on the island, when the sea casts up a newcomer, we see a friend. Welcome to Go Lightly. Don’t just stand there looking handsome as the devil, Nicholas. Introduce me.”

Nick did the honors and Eve was charmed by the guileless island woman.

“You’ll want to rest a bit after your journey. Come, children,” Maia said as she led them to the next little stone room in Go Lightly.

A string bed draped with mosquito netting was set between open windows that allowed the fresh breeze in but not the hot sun. Colorful rag rugs dotted the cleanswept, broad-planked floor. Maia opened a small wardrobe where a couple of bright garments like hers hung on pegs.