Mistress of the Stone (27 page)

Luísa took a long swig of wine and let it seep into whatever crevices still held memory. It was time for bed in the hope it would erase the last vestiges of regret, but first a trip to a bush to empty her bladder. She tucked the blanket under her father’s chin and patted his cheek. “I’ll be right back, Papa,” she whispered.

She slipped out into a warm and breezy night, the scent of salt and sea in the air. The mist had cleared, leaving a bright, nearly full moon. If her calculations were correct, the moon would be heaviest tomorrow. And it would be the blood moon. The night the whole island awaited with bated breath. She placed no faith in island lore, but the wolves believed it. They were willing to kill for it.

Luísa strained her eyes through the diminishing fog for any sign of either the
Vengeance
or the
Coral
. The harbor lay quiet, and the wafting mist shrouded whatever hope she had for seeing her ship.

If the werewolves kept to their word, she hoped the
Coral
made berth in safe harbor and her crew was making repairs and awaiting the return of their captain.

Luísa stumbled toward a bush with thick padded leaves and ripped off a few shoots. She thought back to the poisonous palm Xander had warned her about and hoped this one was safer.

Xander. His smile, his touch, the burr of his warm, rum voice. Reliving the experience he had given her sent shivers down her body. What she’d do to have that back, to have
him
back.

She understood why he had gone through so much trouble. What she didn’t understand was why he led her to believe that her father was already dead. What purpose did that serve?

Unless… Luísa closed her eyes. Blasted
Inglés
. With her father gone, it would be easier to convince her to leave this place.

Manipulative, conniving, sweet-talking…agh!
If she ever saw that man again, she swore to slap him into yesterday.

Luísa finished her business, tugging at the laces of her breeches as tightly as she would a ratline aboard ship. She cursed Daltry, mumbling to herself when someone grabbed her from behind. A hand clamped over her mouth, and she thrashed until she realized her air was running out. She submitted, hoping her captor would give her a chance to breathe.

Rough hands dragged her farther into the jungle. The brute didn’t let her go until they had made their way to a small grotto. He threw her to the ground and laid a knee on her chest.

Her eyes flew open wide in recognition. “Xander!”

“Hullo, kitten.”

Xander had damned himself the moment he took it in his head to kidnap Luísa. Damn wench would probably fight him every step of the way too. But he’d deal with her in his own way. The important thing was to get her off the island. Without her, the wolves would be forced to take on another target. Him.

It was the only way to give Luísa enough time to escape these waters.

He studied her in the fading moonlight. Little hands clenched into fists. Her eyes fierce with fury. A glimmer of relief softened her expression and she swallowed visibly.

“Are you insane? The wolves will kill you for stealing me away.”

“And do you think your fate is safer in their hands?” He wanted to shake her, make her see that she was throwing her life away for nothing. Saint-Sauveur would never let her go and her father was as good as dead. “There’s a small boat stashed beneath a pier, and I intend to get you on it.”

“And Papa?”

“Your father too, but only after I get you safely to the
Coral
. Agreed?”

Only her eyes said yes. It was enough. Xander let out a breath, bracing his body over hers, suddenly aware how intimate their proximity.

They had all night, but it would be their only night. Once he got her on board the
Coral
, he’d never see her again. That was the price he’d pay for seeing her safe.

Luísa’s face shimmered in the low light of the rising moon, making her look otherworldly and ephemeral. Xander lost his ability to reason whenever he was caught in her smoldering gaze. Any fool would have parted ways knowing such danger. But this was a sea nymph who had stolen his heart. He was long past saving.

He feathered callused fingertips down her silken neck, hungry to touch more of her. She shuddered when he reached her collarbone and she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

“Shall I take you, Luísa?” The words hung in the air, dripping with hunger.

“Isn’t that your plan, pirate-hunter?”

Obviously, his little nymph had not forgiven him yet.

Xander grit his teeth. He’d not take her, not if she didn’t want him to. But every inch of his body craved her sweet torture. She mocked his resolve with that soft full mouth, a perpetual pout that begged for kissing.

He had hoped there was still a part of her that loved him, but perhaps he was wrong. And perhaps it was best not to find out. He pulled away, allowing her to rise if she so wished.

Instead, she looked up in surprise. “You’re letting me go?”

“You’re not my prisoner. Though it seems I am yours.”

“How so?” The dismissive tone returned.

“Are we back to playing hound and fox?” He wasn’t in the mood for her icy banter, knowing full well how little time they had left.

Luísa’s chin rose in defiance. “I’m the one taken hostage here. How are you my prisoner?”

“Bloody hell, woman! What move have I made that wasn’t done for your welfare? What sacrifice is there that I wouldn’t make to see you safe? And I didn’t betray your father. I tried to save him.”

Hot blood rushed to his face taunting the wolf inside him. Xander turned away, focusing on the torn kneecap of her breeches and the poor scraped flesh underneath it. She had earned that on his behalf, risking her life even when common sense told her to run.

Luísa stilled for a moment, regret filling her eyes. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “I know.”

“You do?” Was she toying with him?
 

Luísa nodded her head sheepishly. “Perhaps we’re both prisoners here.”

She melted into his embrace like honey on a warm day. He clutched her, afraid to let her go, afraid this dream had run its course. He inhaled her scent, tasting it, savoring it, imprinting every bit of her into his mind knowing it would have to last a lifetime.

“I love you.” He had breathed the words into her hair, more than a thought, but less than a whisper. It was only now he had admitted it to himself and to her. It comforted him more than he expected.

She stared up at him, eyes glistening with moisture and trepidation. One tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Don’t leave me. Not again.”

Xander hesitated. Nothing would be gained if she learned the truth. He couldn’t return with her, not if he were to keep her safe.

He kissed the errant tear before it fell. “You have my heart, little pirate. How can I live without that?”

Luísa shivered in his arms, her eyes wild with expectation as he laid her on the mossy mantel of the jungle floor.

Xander lowered his head to hers, breathing in her scent, need betraying reason. The very air seemed to vanish, and he grew thick with arousal.

His fingers slid down her shirt, carelessly flicking open the first button.

She gasped and slapped his hand. “Xander Daltry, do you mean to take me here in this forest?”

Two more buttons popped undone. “It’s a lovely forest,” he murmured in her ear.

Luísa’s cheeks flamed to a crimson blush. “You’re shameless!” Her breasts heaved hard, pushing the thin fabric of her shirt open and revealing those soft mounds of womanly glory.

He released one breast from her chemise, feasting with a wolf’s appetite on a taut rosy bloom. His hot tongue swirled over her nipple, seducing, arousing, demanding a response. She moaned beneath him, a blissful noise he’d gladly share.

Luísa’s knee rubbed between his thighs, the errant strokes kindling to his torture. His erection grew at her command, the arousal so keen he could barely breathe. He gasped when her knee reached the top of his rod. “Your servant, madam,” he gasped unable to say more.

Mischief sparkled in her eyes, and she pushed him to the ground. “You’re welcome, sir.”

Luísa brushed her fingers against his short beard. “I’d like one more night with you, even if you are the devil. That boat can wait a few minutes longer, can’t it?”

He brushed his lips against hers in answer to her question.

Luísa kissed him back, breathless with desire. She wrapped her arms about his neck. “God, forgive me. I’ve never wanted a man more. If I’m going to burn in hell, I want to go with a smile on my lips.”

“Little minx. You can enthrall me faster than any woman I know.” He melded his mouth to hers, unwilling to accept anything but submittal.

Luísa surrendered willingly, twining her legs with his. She hurried off his shirt, and when he was bare-chested, she feasted on his nipples, forcing all the blood in his body to his nether regions.

“Steady there, my little pirate. We mustn’t be so rash.”

“Then we’ll be quiet,” she said between nibbles.

“That’s not what I mean.” He held her back, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I should’ve taken greater care before. I’ve no right to plant you with child. I wasn’t very careful the first time.”

She cupped her mouth. “
Dios mío
. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Wolves mated for life. But he couldn’t offer her that. Not anymore. All he could do was love her and hope it was enough to last a lifetime.

“What do we do then, Master Daltry? Do we slake our hunger in other ways or bear the burden of the celibate?”

He ran his fingers down the curve of her jaw. “I can think of many ways we can please each other without producing a child.”

Her body sagged with resignation. “All right, Xander. No babies. What do you have in mind?”

He took his time stripping her to bare skin, then laid their clothes underneath them as a cushion. When he finished, he sat there and grazed his eyes over her naked body.

For several minutes he said nothing, afraid to shatter this fragile dream.

She smiled at him gently. “Is this your great plan?”

“No.” The corners of his mouth tilted upwards. “But let me look at you for now. I want to remember you like this. I want to remember every beautiful swell and curve.”

“You—you think I’m beautiful?” Luísa stuttered.

“Very beautiful,” he said, strolling two fingers down to her belly button.

She blushed, her sweet face betraying her innocence. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

He laughed softly. “Probably because your father’s crew would have run the poor sod through. It’s a little hard to speak of love when you know you risk a saber in your gullet.”

“Tell me again.”

“What?”

“Tell me I’m beautiful.”

He chuckled. “For vanity’s sake?”

“No. I just like to hear you say it. Your voice sounds like velvet.”

“What’s this? A
Portuguesa
in love with the sound of an English accent?”

“Yes, well. I suppose you can’t be held accountable for being born English.” She sighed. “I can put up with you being a werewolf, but an
Inglés
…”

“Look here, kitten. If you want me to make love to you, it will have to be with an Englishman and a werewolf. We can’t be separated.”

Luísa ran her fingers through his long dark hair. “That’s good,” she whispered. “Because I love them both.”

Her arms reached for him, drawing him to her, erasing all doubt on whether this had been worth it. It had.

They worshipped one another with their mouths. Kisses so passionate they seared Xander to the bone. How could he give her up? How could he simply walk away from the greatest happiness he’d ever known?

No babes. He had promised that, and he’d keep his word. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t pleasure her and himself—at least to a point.

Xander looked down at Luísa, her face flushed with desire, her hands aching to touch him. His hands slid down her belly to the juncture between her legs, parting her gently to test her readiness.

He nearly spilled his seed when she bucked in his hand, shoving his finger even deeper. She moaned in anguish.

“Take me, Xander. I want you in me.”

Her pleading words shattered what little restraint was left and he felt himself grow thick and large. Ragged heat coursed through him rousing the wolf inside. He had to have her, had to possess her if only for the night.

His arms trapped her in place and he slid his engorged shaft across her legs, teasing and exciting her flesh with wicked intentions. She squirmed beneath him, her breath sharp and fast as she rose up and pressed the cool of her breasts against him.

Luísa touched him, delicate fingers caressing his face, his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach. With slow determination, she wrapped her hand around his throbbing shaft and guided him to the warm, wet folds between her legs.

He penetrated her with his fingers first, making sure she was ready, but he had no need to worry. Luísa made it clear that she welcomed him willingly.