Taken by You (5 page)

Luca swallowed hard. “Why? Of what good am I to you?”

“Perhaps I will find some value in you. Do you come from a rich family? Would they be willing to pay ransom for your return?”

Luca stared at him. If she told him the truth, the nun’s habit would no longer protect her. If he ransomed her back to her father, Don Eduardo would send her to Cuba to a marriage she did not want. But if she continued with her charade, the possibility existed that she might talk Morgan into letting her go. Then she could make her way back home, quietly reenter the convent, and take her final vows. By the time her father found out, it would be too late to do anything about it.

Luca knew she could place herself in grave danger if she gave the pirate captain the wrong answer. On one hand, she had no guarantee she wouldn’t be ravished if she admitted to being Luca Santiego, and on the other hand, claiming to be a mm might not deter the pirate from any nefarious deeds. Yet she had to say something. She made her decision in a split second.

“Alas, my family is poor, Captain. I was placed in the convent at the age of ten to relieve them of another mouth to feed. I was the only girl in our large family. The boys were useful to work our worthless piece of land, and I was given over to die church. I beg you to free me so I may return to the convent.”

“I cannot do that. My men would mutiny if I released you They expect me to give you to them when I’m finished with you.”

Luca swallowed visibly. Fear sent icy claws deep into her gut “I beg you to spare me. I’ve done nothing to you Why do you bear such hatred toward my countrymen?”

Morgan’s expression hardened and he looked past her, stirred by memories she couldn’t begin to understand. He could still feel the whip flaying his back and hear his Spanish tormentors laughing cruelly as they threw saltwater on his wounds and watched him writhe in pain. They had worked him excessively and kept him on starvation rations for five years, and he wouldn’t have survived much longer under those intolerable conditions. If not for the Spanish, his parents and siblings would still be alive today. And the woman standing before him carried the accursed blood of Spanish murderers.

Luca recoiled in terror when she saw Morgan’s fierce expression. Whatever her countrymen had done to him must have been terrible indeed, she reflected dimly.

Morgan noted her fear and gave her a lethal smile. “You are wise to fear me, Sister Luca. Your countrymen made my life a Irving Hell and destroyed everything I once held dear. I vowed no mercy for the Spanish, and now you must suffer for it. You will accompany the
Avenger
to Andros and submit to me in any way I want you.”

Standing so close to the pirate, Luca felt overwhelmed by the solid, unyielding strength in him. The rush or his anger, the heat of his body… the tenacity and determination of this man, the sheer power he wielded flooded her with a dread so intense she felt utterly without hope. Yet despite all she knew about the English pirate, all the terrible things she’d heard that should have sent her swooning, what she felt was a heady sense of being alive after merely existing for many years.

“I will kill myself before I allow you or any of your vicious men to touch me,” she vowed, sending Morgan a look of utter disdain. It was an empty threat for she didn’t think she had the courage to kill herself. Hopefully, though, it would make the pirate think twice about touching her.

Morgan’s generous mouth curved upward in a smile that offered little comfort. “Oh, no. Sister, death is the easy way out, and you are no coward. Your eyes speak clearly of your love for life. It will be amusing to let you stew about your fate. Perhaps I’ll take you tonight, in my bunk. Then again, I may wait until we reach Andros. Or,” he added with a careless toss of his head, “I may decide you’re too much trouble and give you to my men immediately. You aren’t really my type, but my crew isn’t so discerning.” His eyes raked the length of her body with insulting intensity. “If you’ve a mind to, you could change my mind.”

Luca felt a choking sensation so fierce she could barely swallow past the lump that had formed in her throat. The well-defined angle of Morgan’s jaw was clenched so tight she could see a muscle twitch convulsively beneath the tanned skin of his lean cheek. She didn’t doubt his words for a minute. His hatred for the Spanish was too violent, too deeply ingrained and too long-standing for her to expect mercy from him. She could think of no way to change his mind, but that didn’t stop her from falling back on a method that had worked in the past Surety God wouldn’t forsake her, would he?

Falling to her knees, she bowed her head and prayed as fervently as she knew how.

Chapter 3

L
uca prayed in earnest long after Morgan stomped from the cabin in disgust. The air around her still vibrated from his commanding presence, and she felt as if she had been caught up in a violent tempest. A tempest named El Diablo. She was shaking like a leaf when she finally rose from her knees. The vile rogue affected her in ways she didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she listened to Father Sebastian? Why was she too cowardly to kill herself? She trembled with the knowledge of what he would do to her tonight when he returned. That terrifying thought sent her onto her knees again.

Morgan stormed from the cabin, his temper dangling by a single thread. The little Spanish witch had him doubting the very motives that drove him so relentlessly toward his quest for revenge. She had him questioning his own sanity, wondering why he had allowed her to get to him. Why couldn’t he just use her and be done with it? Or give her to his men if she didn’t appeal to him? Trouble was, she appealed to him too much. Taking her to Andros was madness, he knew. It annoyed him that he didn’t even know his own intentions where Sister Luca was concerned.

“Something bothering you, Morgan?” Stan Crawford asked once Morgan reached the bridge.

Morgan sent him an austere look. “Should mere be?”

Crawford grinned. “Not as far as I can tell. What of the nun? Will you sample her yourself or give her to the men?” He thought he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Morgan. “Surely something so simple as a woman’s fate shouldn’t bother El Diablo.”

“She’s mine!” Morgan said with a fierceness that took Crawford by surprise. “I’m taking her to Andros. If and when I tire of her, you’ll be the first to know.”

Crawford did a poor job of disguising his amusement. “I’m surprised, Morgan. Innocent virgins normally don’t appeal to you. What do you see in Sister Luca that I don’t?” His eyes narrowed speculatively. “Or have you already sampled her and found her to your liking? Perhaps you’ll share her.”

Morgan stiffened. “Don’t press your luck, Mr. Crawford. Our long-standing friendship doesn’t give you leave to question your captain’s judgment. I suggest you go about your duties.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Scott,” Crawford said, snapping to attention. It wasn’t often that Morgan flaunted his rank, but when he did Stan knew enough to back off.

Crawford recalled the countless times he and Morgan had shared women without coming to blows over any one of them. Not only had they shared women but they also shared a mutual hatred for the Spanish. He too had felt the lash of a Spanish whip during the six months he had been a Spanish captive. What was there about the Spanish nun, Crawford wondered, that made Morgan so testy? If Morgan hadn’t already sampled her, Crawford hoped to Hell he’d do it soon, or Crawford and the crew would suffer the brunt of Morgan’s temper.

When it grew dark, someone brought Luca a tray. The rough sailor stared at her for a brief moment, then quickly left Though the food looked appetizing enough Luca couldn’t swallow a bite. The implied menace of Morgan’s threats did terrible things to her mind. She pictured herself at his mercy. She couldn’t look at the oversized bunk without imagining what a powerful man like El Diablo could do to her. She wasn’t exactly sure how rape was accomplished, which made her vivid imagination all the more terrifying. If only she had a weapon.

With a burst of excitement she remembered the small eating dagger she’d placed in her pocket after she’d donned her nun’s robes. Thrusting her hand into the pocket, she was comforted by the security of cold steel, meager though it might be. Did she have the nerve to use it in her own defense? Contemplating the consequences gave Luca the courage she needed when the cabin door burst open and Morgan Scott stepped inside, bigger man life and twice as terrifying.

He stared at her distractedly, noting the fear transforming her nearly perfect features. His gaze fell to the tray, which sat before her untouched.

“Is the food not to your liking?” he asked, unbuckling his sword as he strode across the room.
“I
thought religious disciples were accustomed to meager rations and poor rare. My cook does wonders with the food at hand, you should try it.” He removed his sword and flung it onto a chair. His jacket followed.

Luca leaped to her feet and backed away. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Your virtue is safe for the moment, I doubt I could rouse myself enough to partake of your dubious charms.” He sent her a look that made Luca wince. Was she so unattractive that she actually repelled him?

Good, she thought awash in relief. That’s exactly what she’d intended when she’d dressed herself in the drab garb of a cloistered nun. The abbess would be proud of her. Her expression must have reflected her thoughts, for Morgan gave her an impudent grin that sent her heart plummeting down to her heels.

“Smugness does not become you, Sister Luca. I didn’t say I won’t feel differently tomorrow, or even ten minutes from now. If I want you I will have you, but I’d rather keep you guessing. Besides, I want to be well rested when I attempt you.” He leered at her. “I’m sure my patience will be amply rewarded.”

Horrified, Luca gaped at him. “You’re a monster, Captain Scott. I am neither frightened nor tempted by the Devil.” She eyed his discarded sword with longing.

Morgan stepped closer, looming over her small form in all his male splendor. “Are you not, Sister? As long as we’re trading insults, I think you’re a fraud. I’ve thought long and hard and come to the conclusion that you are no nun. The unholy fire in your eyes denies the very existence of your piety. You’re too haughty by far to be the meek holy woman you claim to be. You are neither gentle-natured nor humble. Who are you, really?”

He was so close Luca could feel the hot rush of his breath against her cheek. She tried to retreat, but there was no place to go. She fingered the knife in her pocket and glared up at him defiantly. “I told you who I am. I am Sister Luca, recently from the Mother Of God convent. I was told by the Reverend Mother to accompany Senorita Carlotta Santiego to Havana. If you return me to Spain, I will remember you in my prayers until the day I die.”

“I do not want your prayers, Sister Luca,” Morgan said. His voice was low and rough, as if he was having great difficulty controlling his breathing. “Perhaps I want something else from you. Something that will make us both happy.”

Luca’s mouth went dry. The tip of her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. She thought she heard Morgan groan but couldn’t be sure. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Morgan’s hand thrust forward to grasp her chin. “Don’t you? I could show you. I may be too tired to attempt you, but I’d have to be on my deathbed to resist such a sweet invitation”

Luca went still, enthralled by the blue intensity of Morgan’s eyes. She had thought them merely blue, but now she saw that they were the gray blue of a storm-tossed sea, tumultuous with glittering highlights of pure silver. She’d never seen eyes exactly like that before. Devil’s eyes. She gulped in dismay and tried to form a reply to his daunting words.

“I offered no invitation.”

“Ah, but you did.” His head lowered a fraction, his blond hair brushing her forehead as his lips touched hers.

Fire. Pure fire. At first there was a burning sensation in the place where their lips melded. But when his mouth covered hers fully and his tongue slid wetly across the seam of her lips, the burning turned into a raging inferno that rushed through her veins to places unmentionable. When she tried to pull away he grasped her arms, holding her in place while he plundered her mourn. When he tried to force his tongue into her mouth, she gasped in shock, unwittingly giving his tongue free access to the sweet warmth within.

Never had Luca felt anything quite like the overwhelming magnetism of Morgan’s kiss. She wanted to kiss him back! She ached to wind her arms around his neck and run her hands through the golden tangle of his hair. She wanted to The things his kiss made her want had no name. It was wrong. So very wrong. She shouldn’t feel like this. The man was an enemy. He was a vicious pirate who had kidnapped her and intended to rape her. That thought brought a semblance of sanity to her scattered emotions even as Morgan’s hands grew bolder, searching out places no man had a right to touch. She knew she had to do something, anything to break this man’s spell upon her before she was completely at his mercy.