Taken by You (11 page)

Luca felt the heated hunger of his kiss spiral through her. Felt it pushing down into her core, between her legs. His lips left hers, then pressed against her throat, his tongue licking the pulse beating at the base of her neck. Without conscious thought, her head fell back against his arm, giving him easy access. And suddenly the sweet flesh of her neck wasn’t enough. With his free hand he unbuttoned the front of her dress, pushing the edges open, baring the upper curve or her breasts above the corset to the heady pleasure of his kisses. He pressed his mouth there to her rounded flesh, tasting, arousing, wet, feverishly hot. His touch was demanding, seducing, evocative.

He slipped her right breast free of the confines of her corset, his fingers curling around it, stroking the fullness. His thumb flicked over the nipple and she cried out. “No, oh no!”

She felt the hardness of his body pressing against hers. Then his mouth covered the place where his thumb had just been, and she quivered in response.
What was he doing to her?

Morgan had never tasted anything as sweet as Luca’s flesh or felt anything so soft and silken. His desire spiraled out of control, hot, aching, hungry. God, he didn’t want to stop, wasn’t sure he could. He wanted to carry this through to its natural culmination, wanted her to open her legs in joyous welcome, wanted to attain paradise.

Her mouth parted to form a protest; nothing came out but a rush of breath. His hands grew bolder, lifting the hem of her dress and pushing upward along the inside of her leg. His torment increased when he found the enticing bare skin above her stocking. He stretched farther, his fingers brushing against the soft, inviting warmth of her maidenhair. His hand inched higher, seeking a more intimate reward, while the hot suction of his mouth pulled at her breast.

Frenzied excitement shuddered through Luca’s body, leaving her feeling hot and cold at the same time. She knew this couldn’t go on, that it had to stop now or she’d be forever damned, joining the ranks of those countless women seduced by El Diablo. She suspected that once he had his way with her a holy life would never satisfy her. That thought alone broke the spell of Morgan’s intoxicating kisses and gave her the strength to twist from his arms.

Morgan stared at her blankly. She was panting, her eyes luminous, her face a white oval in the moonlight. “No! I won’t let you do this to me. Tonight I will pray on my knees for the salvation of your soul.”

“Goddamn!” Morgan was so aroused by the Spanish witch he could have tossed her on her back, spread her legs, and taken his fill of her. The fact that he didn’t both surprised and angered him. “If you truly were a nun, Luca, I’d respect your religious calling, though I consider it a senseless waste of womanhood. But from the first I doubted you. I want you, I think you know that. I can’t recall when I wanted a woman more.

“I’m going to learn the truth about you. And when I do, you may or may not be safe from me no matter what I learn. Do you understand me, Luca?” When she nodded, he raised her to her feet and helped her fasten her dress. “I’ll take you back to the house.”

Luca’s knees were still shaking when they reached the house. To her vast relief, Morgan left her at her door and bid her good night.

Painfully aroused, Morgan stormed into the parlor and gulped down several fingers of strong brandy before he felt calm enough to plan his next move. When Crawford and Rouge returned from the
Avenger,
Morgan sent Rouge to bed, indicating that he wished to speak privately with his first mate. Once Crawford was sitting across from him sipping a brandy, Morgan instructed his first mate to take the
Queen’s Glory
out at high tide the next day, setting a course for Havana. He wanted to know who Luca really was, and he wanted to know as soon as possible.

“I’ll see that Rouge is ready to leave on time,” he added. “A fortnight should see you there and back. Cuba is no great distance away. Let’s hope you can find the information I desire in Havana.”

“I’ll do my best, Captain,” Crawford assured him.

“And Stan,” Morgan warned, “I’m sure Rouge will be content in Havana. There is no need to bring her back to Andros with you.”

Rouge glared sullenly at Morgan. She had been in her room preparing to retire when Morgan knocked on her door and entered without being invited. Without preamble he told her she was leaving aboard the
Queen’s Glory
on the morning’s tide.

“So this is how it is to end. Did you succeed in seducing the nun tonight? I’ve never known you to be so singularly minded about any woman. You really do want her, don’t you?”

Morgan ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “That’s beside the point. I had decided long before I met Luca… er… Sister Luca, that the relationship between you and me had run its course. Admit it, Rouge, you’re not unhappy to be leaving Andros.”

Rouge hefted the heavy sack of gold coins Morgan had given her and smiled. “Not exactly unhappy,
mon amour.
‘Piqued’ is a better word. A woman should be the one to break off a relationship, not the man. But I am resigned to leaving. Perhaps we will meet again one day. Besides,” she said, smiling coyly, “Crawford is a handsome man, he might prove amusing for a few days.”

“It has been enjoyable, Rouge, and so I bid you adieu.” He raised her hand and kissed it.

Rouge’s eyes sparkled. “It doesn’t have to end so impersonally. Spend the night with me,
man amour,
for old time’s sake. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

Morgan was almost tempted. Luca had roused him beyond endurance tonight, and he craved relief. Unfortunately there was only one woman he wanted in his bed tonight, and he couldn’t have her, not yet….
Soon, little nun, soon,
he swore to himself.

Luca was too unnerved to sleep. Morgan had tempted her beyond reason. She’d had to summon all her religious fervor in order to resist the powerful lure of his seduction. After slipping on her prim white nightgown, she stepped out onto the gallery.

She ambled along the walkway, past darkened rooms, trying to come to grips with the strange emotions Morgan aroused in her.

The sound of voices made her pause before a particular room. Candlelight lit the interior. Inquistiveness made her sidle closer when she recognized Morgan’s voice. She went still, hovering in the shadows, listening, praying she wouldn’t be discovered and accused of eavesdropping. She knew she should turn around and walk away, but curiosity got the best of her and she peered inside.

She saw Rouge and realized that Morgan was in Rouge’s room. There was only one reason a man would visit his mistress’s bedroom. Instead of turning away she moved closer, looking directly into the dimly lit room and its occupants as Rouge moved into Morgan’s arms, twining her hands into the thick richness of his hair and bringing his lips down to hers. Luca saw it all, the scorching kiss, the intimate caress, the possessive manner in which they held one another, as if their bodies were long accustomed to each other.

Luca’s heart beat wildly, angry with herself for the jolt of jealousy stirring her blood. She didn’t want Morgan, yet she hated the thought of another woman having him. What was wrong with her?

Stifling a cry, she turned and fled to the safety of her own room. The lovers deserved privacy, and she was an unwanted interloper in a highly intimate moment.

Morgan broke off the kiss abruptly and stepped away, strangely unmoved by his former mistress. His instincts had been right He knew now that sending Rouge away was right “Good night Rouge, I wish you nothing but the best.”

Glancing into her eyes, he noticed they were suspiciously moist. “Good-bye,
mon amour,
I wish you ck with your little nun. Something tells me you’ll need it” she whispered as he turned away.

Chapter 6

W
hen Morgan wasn’t tempting her to sin, Luca found life on Andros quite pleasant. Fortunately for her peace of mind, Morgan was occupied most of the following days with his ship. They ate dinner together each evening, and she could find no fault in his behavior. Still, she didn’t dare deviate from her method of dress, continuing each day to don the oversized black widow’s weeds and mantilla. She did it to remind Morgan that she was off-limits to him. Despite his exemplary behavior, Luca felt that Morgan was toying with her.

Since there was virtually no means of escape, Luca was allowed to roam the island at will. She spent long hours studying the island’s unique flora and fauna and watching the natives fish from canoes fashioned from hollow logs.

Luca made friends with Lani and learned much about Morgan and his island. She discovered that Morgan returned to Andros for infrequent intervals. During his long absences he was either plying the high seas in search of Spanish galleons or in England. During his absences his island home was looked after by Lani and her relatives. There were a number of permanent residents on Andros; trusted then who had married native women and opted to remain behind to oversee the logging industry owned by Morgan.

During the two weeks of Stan Crawford’s absence, Morgan waited and watched and speculated. And kept himself busy. If he didn’t, he’d go mad from wanting. The little Spanish saint was driving him crazy. Just thinking about her was exquisite torment. Despite his conviction that she was no proper nun, he forced his thoughts elsewhere, for she continued fervently to invoke God every time he attempted seduction. He had no idea why he didn’t just send her away and be rid of her. He didn’t need the kind of aggravation she provided with her sultry beauty and tempting dark eyes.

Two weeks and four days after he left, Crawford returned from Havana. Morgan met him on the beach.

“Welcome back, my friend. Come to the house and you can tell me what you learned over refreshments.”

Stan Crawford nodded, wondering how Morgan would react to the information he brought back from Havana. He hoped he was doing the right thing by telling his captain, for he hated the thought of Morgan harming his captive.

Seated comfortably in his large office, Morgan waited anxiously for Stan to speak. “’Tis just as you suspected, Morgan. The name of the grandee’s daughter is Luca, not Carlotta. The captain of the
Santa Cruz
and her surviving crew were picked up by a Spanish galleon and taken to Havana, where they reported the sinking and abduction to Diego del Fugo, the governor-general of Cuba.”

Morgan tented his fingers in front of him and nodded thoughtfully. “Luca Santiego. No nun at all. I knew the witch was lying all along.”

“Part of her story is true, Morgan. Luca was raised in a convent and removed against her wishes to marry del Fugo. The governor-general was eagerly awaiting his innocent bride. There’s a new price on your head, my friend. One thousand gold doubloons.”

Morgan whistled. “So much? They must want me badly.”

“Very badly, especially del Fugo. You abducted his intended bride. A ship was dispatched immediately for Spain to inform Don Eduardo Santiago, Luca’s fattier. Rumor has it that del Fugo is furious over the loss of Luca’s dowry. Not to mention his intended’s virginity. It is widely assumed that El Diablo will ravish the girl before ransoming her back to her family.”

“How astute of them,” Morgan said evenly. His face held a sharp edge that did not bode well for Luca.

“I know I advised you to take your fill of the chit, Morgan, but that was before I came to know her story. She’s innocent in all this. Don’t hurt her.”

Morgan’s thoughts turned grim. “Hurt her? You know me better than that, Stan. We’ll play this little game out to the bitter end, but I assure you I will win. Eventually the bogus little saint will be returned to her bridegroom, but not before I relieve her of her virginity. When I do, I assure you she will be a willing participant”

“Don’t do it, Morgan, don’t do that to Luca. She doesn’t deserve such shabby treatment. What if you plant your child in her? What kind of life will await her at home if you ravish her? You know how rigid those Spanish bastards are about such things.”

Morgan tried not to think of his child growing inside Luca. He knew he could claim no child carrying Spanish blood in its veins. What he did concentrate on were his years of forced slavery on a Spanish galleon, of daily beatings and starvation rations, and being tortured beyond endurance. No one had pitied him during those years he was made to feel less than human, so why should he spare Luca? But there was a more pressing reason for demanding his pound of flesh. One he had never shared with anyone before.