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The Pirate
by
Lyn Randal

 Chapter One



October 10, 1487
Northern Spain
In the camp of the Zincali, Gypsy fires were burning. Fires to dispel the
darkness and ease the chill of the mist that swept in, covering the wild terrain
of Galicia with the sea.
As she stood before one of those fires, Anne Lithgow shivered and pulled her
thin wrap more tightly about herself.
“YouÅ‚re quiet tonight," her companion said, turning an intent gaze her way.
“Are you all right?"
Anne wasnłt actually, but she doubted the young Gypsy woman Dulcinea would
understand. “Too much upheaval," she said. “I need time to sort through it all."
The womanÅ‚s expression softened. “Poor thing. Sent to a foreign land to marry
a man youłve never met, then captured at sea by pirates! Iłd say youłve had
enough upheaval for a lifetime in only the past three weeks." She touched Annełs
hand gently. “But at least that nightmareÅ‚s over now. How fortunate that in your
escape you crossed paths with the Zincali. Wełre also bound for Portugal, and
youłll travel with us in safety. Soon wełll have you back to your betrothed in
Lisbon and all will be well."
How could Anne dispute that? And yet, tears misted her eyes.
It was true she now had every reason to rejoice. Shełd managed to
miraculously outwit her captors. Theyłd not missed the key shełd stolen, hadnłt
heard her when shełd eased out onto deck, hadnłt noticed that the shipłs
apprentice was missing a change of clothing. Theyłd not heard the creak of ropes
when shełd lowered the small boat into the sea or the solid thunk when she
jumped into it. The watch in the crowłs nest must have been asleep.
She had every reason to be proud of her daring and thankful for her freedom.
So she surely hadnłt expected this profound attack of melancholy.
She could hardly believe her own thoughts. She was Lady Anne Lithgow,
daughter of an earl and a member of the royal family. No lady of her rank should
admit to what she now felt.
She longed for a man she hardly knew. And not just any man. A pirate.
Surely it had been the right thing to doto leave him, to flee from his
imprisonment, to risk all for freedom. It must have been the right thing,
but the dull ache inside told her differently.
A shout from nearby startled her from her thoughts. Dulcinea hissed a
warning, grabbed Annełs arm and pulled her deeper into shadow.
There was a chaos of activity on the other side of the encampment, loud
voices in question and reply, a flurry of color and motion as several guards
wielding torches and swords led in two strangers, their hands resting on top of
their heads. The guards pushed them into place before the largest fire and the
wiry, gold-toothed Gypsy named Simon, recognized by all as the leader, the
count, of this small band.
The woman beside Anne spoke in a hushed, almost reverent voice. “Well look at
that. Visitors to the camp, and my, what a visitor! Who is that, and what does
he want, and do you think I might could get it for him?"
Anne did not speak, though she knew the answer to at least two of the three
questions.
The man and his companion were not looking her direction, but she didnłt have
to see their faces. She knew them, especially the dark-haired, handsome one. She
was well acquainted with that arrogant stance, the breadth of his shoulders, the
narrow hips and those lean, straight legs sheathed in boots of fine leather.
Her pirate had come.
 
Chapter Two





He could feel her somewhere behind him. Even as he stood, surrounded by
swords, trying to find a language in which he and the Gypsy leader could
communicate successfully, Captain Alejandro Castillo was aware of her presence,
of her eyes upon him.
It was unnatural, this connection with her. It was something otherworldly,
almost spiritualand the main reason hełd been enraged that shełd fled.
“This woman you seek," the Zincali count said with a dark, enigmatic smile,
“she must be special for you to brave this dark night and the storm that
approaches."
Aye, she is. Her eyes flash emerald fire and womanłs desire, her hair
smells of sunshine and her lips are like sweet Spanish Madeira
“She has something of mine," Alejandro said tersely. “Something I value and
want returned."
Thunder clapped in the distance. The count glanced up at the night sky before
returning his attention to Alejandro.
“And that something is?"
“A sword. My best one, crafted in Toledo of the finest steel."
The Gypsy clucked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. And you let a mere woman steal such
a weapon from you?"
Ah, but thereÅ‚s nothing “mere" about this woman. You cannot imagine the
depth of her intelligence, the breadth of her courage. I should have been more
wary, but God knows, I wanted her in my bed so badly
“She took it, yes." Alejandro met the smaller manÅ‚s gaze directly. “Is she
here?"
“That depends on whether or not you have the proper coin."
“Whatever coin is proper, I have it or can get it," Alejandro growled,
ignoring the amusement that came into his companionłs face. Barto, the steward
aboard Alejandrołs vessel, was a huge African Moor and had long been his most
trusted friend. But damn if Barto didnłt look as if he was restraining a smile.
Just what was so comical? It wasnłt as if Alejandro was in love or any such fool
thing as that.
He was aggravated, thatłs what he was. Madder than hell and ready to tell her
so.
The Gypsy named an amount. Alejandro took a leather pouch from beneath his
cloak, counted out the coins and put them into the manłs hand.
The smaller fellow laughed as he closed his hand around them, then swept his
arm around in an expansive gesture. “The woman you seek is indeed here, mÅ‚lord
Pirate. And Iłll give you even more for your money than that upon which wełve
agreed." He turned to a guard who stood nearby and spoke quietly. “Take him to
the ladyłs tent. Soon shełll be forced to seek shelter from the storm."
He leveled a sharp gaze on Alejandro and lowered his voice. “One night with
the woman. At dawn, youłll be escorted from my camp. One night, młlord Pirate,
among the Gypsies, surrounded by darkness and the wildness of storm. One full
night to take back all shełs stolen from you."
Alejandro nodded, already knowing that it could not be done.
 
Chapter Three





“TheyÅ‚re taking him to your tent." Dulcinea laughed softly. “Carlos will
bring him wine shortly, and you know what that means."
“No, I donÅ‚t."
“The captainÅ‚s a busno. He doesnÅ‚t belong here among the Zincali, and
he shouldnłt have come. By morning, when he awakens far from here, bereft of his
fine sea cape and boots and purse of gold, hełll understand that the count
doesnłt care for intruders."
Anne frowned. “HeÅ‚ll be drugged and robbed?"
The Gypsy shrugged carelessly. “They wonÅ‚t harm him."
“No. I donÅ‚t want him to suffer because of me."
“You donÅ‚t? Even though he?"
AnneÅ‚s gaze met the GypsyÅ‚s. Dulcinea studied her intensely for a moment. “So
thatłs the way it is. Well then, you must act quickly because once he sips that
wine, therełll be no further remedy."
Anne gathered her skirts and hurried across the encampment to the tent.
Carlos rounded the corner just as she placed her hand on the door flap.
“Hold," she said to the swarthy man. “DonÅ‚t you dare give the captain any of
your wine. Or his companion, either."
Carlos studied her for a long minute before he lifted an eyebrow. “As you
wish, my lady. Iłll tell Simon youłve asked this favor for the busno
captain. But itłs already too late for the big African who came with him. The
Moor was thirsty from their long ride." Carlos chuckled. “He sleeps on the
ground beneath the chestnut tree."
Thunder rumbled in the distance again, and Anne glanced skyward. “Take the
Moor to shelter and see that none of his possessions are disturbed. I will, of
course, make it up to you when I am reunited with my betrothed. Don Pedro has
enough gold that even the count wonłt regret losing the captainłs."
Carlos nodded and hurried away. Anne turned and mentally prepared herself for
the confrontation to come, then ducked into the tent.
If she had thought the tent comfortably sized, even cozy with its fanciful
carved furnishings and colorful embroidered textiles, that was before
Alejandrołs tall frame filled the space. He lounged on a folding chair in
decadent sensuality, well-muscled legs stretched before him, his blue sea cape
flung with roguish abandon over one shoulder.
His hair was damp with dew, the droplets glistening like stars. His gaze
found hers, his eyes as blue as the Mediterranean and as piercing as the sword
he held.
She caught her breath at the anger within them, but couldnłt control the heat
that slashed through her at his nearness. She halted. It took a moment to find
the words. “Why have you come?"
Alejandro stood and moved toward her, his movements deceptively languorous.
“Why do you think?" he asked, when he stood before her.
“You want the ransom you hoped to gain from my father," she said, her voice
not much more than a whisper.
“I want that, yes," he said. “I want that, and I want more than that."
Anne swallowed hard. “You want your sword back."
“I do." He moved even nearer. “I want my sword, and I want its sheath."
Alejandro reached up to caress the smooth line of her jaw, his touch delicate
although it sent frissons of excitement coursing downward to her breasts, which
suddenly seemed heavy and aching for the pleasure Anne knew he could arouse. “I
want the sheath for my sword, querida, the fine and lovely sheath for my
sword."
Her voice was too husky, too breathless. “I cannot give you that."
His eyes glittered with hurt. “And thereÅ‚s my problem," he said gently, his
finger moving to tease her lower lip, torturing her with the sensuous foreplay.
“You cannot give it, and I, though I am a pirate, could never take it from you
by force." He sighed and stepped backward, his hand dropping away.
“You came here to tell me this?"
His laughter was soft and made her insides clench.
“No, mi cara. I came to convince you that you are wrong to withhold it
from me, from us."
As always, his honesty startled her, infuriated her and aroused her. She
should call for the guards to take him away. She should demand that he leave her
tent immediately.
But she could only stare into mesmerizing eyes of warm blue, sinking,
drowning, needing to swim and unable to, a mermaid caught in a tightening net of
emotion.


























 Chapter Four



Alejandro knew that Anne was not displeased to have him in her tent. Hełd
been unsure at first, but when shełd stepped in and their eyes had met, hełd
seen there all he wished to see.
It had made him weak with relief. During the three days hełd searched for
her, hełd known gut-wrenching fear. Fear that harm would come to her. Fear that
hełd wounded an innocent soul. Fear that hełd been wrong about her feelings.
But looking again into her eyes, he knew. Hełd not been wrong. Within that
green gaze, he saw the yearning that had made her run.
It was a struggle not to close the distance, to pull her into his embrace, to
touch her as intimately as he had the night shełd fled. He remembered the way
her breasts had shone in the moonlight with the soft luster of pearls, and her
moans as hełd licked at them had made him hungry and far too rash.
Maybe hełd spent so much time as a pirate that hełd forgotten how to be the
aristocratic gentleman his father had wanted. Maybe hełd been too long among
coarser women.
Whatever the cause, Anne had panicked and fled his embrace. Hełd swallowed
his hurt and slept alone, determined to right the wrong in the morning.
But by then, Anne was gone.
Hełd cursed himself and every unobservant seaman aboard his vessel, but in
his heart, he knew why shełd run.
Now her eyes told the same story. She was a woman of strong passion. She had
wanted to give herself to him. She wanted that still.
But she was also afraid. She was chaste and betrothed. The match with Don
Pedro was important to her father.
God above, how Alejandro hated the ways of the aristocracy! Always dictating,
confining, forcing sons and daughters into unbearable marriages for wealth, for
power, for their noble names.
He understood this better than most, and hated it worse.
He hurt for Annehe could not change her fate. But perhaps she could know
true passion and warm feeling with him before she was imprisoned forever.
Her voice brought him back to the present. “We can have nothing together,
Alejandro," she said softly, turning away.
He hesitated a moment before speaking. She had the most beautiful backside,
her neck long and graceful, her back and shoulders slender. He wanted to kiss
the curve, taste her skin. “We can have everything together," he whispered
hoarsely. “Don Pedro is an old man. HeÅ‚ll not be able to give you all I can."
“HeÅ‚ll give me a home. Children. Honor." She pinned a searching look on
Alejandro. “You are a pirate, Alejandro. A reckless criminal."
The words stung even though they were true. He crossed the room in two long
strides. “I will give you memories, querida. I will give you this." His
lips descended. She did not struggle or seek to end the embrace.
Passion exploded, as fierce and hot as any sea battle and as full of danger
and pain. She tasted so sweet, so damned sweet. Her tongue slid across his like
honeyed velvet. He couldnłt breathe, couldnłt think, could only pull her body
into full alignment with his, soft curves to corded muscle, pulsing against her
soft entrance with the hard ridge of his sex.
When he lifted his head, her eyes were wide. She breathed as hard as he,
panting the same cruel desire.
Their lips met again. This time he kissed her gently, pouring into her all
the longing of the past three days, letting her savor the sweet hurt. She must
have understood because her arms tightened around his neck, her fingers speared
through his hair, her nipples hardened against his chest.
“Oh, Alejandro," she moaned. He captured the sound, tasting her desperation.
“I will be gentle with you," he whispered. “As God is my witness, I will be
gentle with you."
She couldnÅ‚t quite meet his gaze. “Yes."
She weighed no more than a child as he lifted her into his arms and moved
toward the small bed.
He placed her gently upon it. As he looked down into her beautiful face, into
her innocent gaze, he prayed shełd someday forgive him for that which he was
about to do.

 
Chapter Five



A storm approached the Gypsy camp, but the thunder that rumbled long and low
outside was nothing compared to the storm that now held Anne within Alejandrołs
dark gaze. Lightening arced between them and flashed within his eyes, and she
wanted this man, wanted him, even though such desire was madness.
It had been this way from the beginning, when his seamen had dropped her onto
the deck before him. Hełd reached down with utmost courtesy and helped her to
her feet. The moment his lean hands had touched hers, shełd been scorched by
erotic fire, burning her and melting her so that all thought of honor receded
into nothing, a mist burned away by the heat within his eyes.
For three weeks shełd played with this fire, puzzling over the mysteries and
intrigued by them. Alejandro was a pirate who acted like a courtier. He was a
powerful man given to command, yet for her sake, he held himself in severe
restraint.
He was forceful but never unkind. Demanding but he laughed easily. He treated
her as a lady, but he wanted her as a woman. He protected her from his rough
sailors, but then ravaged her himself with kisses that shook her soul.
Shełd come far too close to falling, and had desperately wanted to fall.
Shełd fled the night she realized she loved him.
But he had come for her, and now stood over herher pirate, her belovedhis
eyes touching her everywhere.
“I will be gentle with you," he repeated softly, reaching out to stroke the
curve of her jaw. “And I will demand nothing but that which you willingly give."
She nodded, unable to speak. She wanted him to come to her, to hold her
against his hard body, to still the trembling. “Alejandro, please."
He came alongside her then, carrying her down with him onto cool sheets.
“IÅ‚ll honor the betrothal made with the other man," he said. “God knows itÅ‚ll
be the hardest thing IÅ‚ve ever done, but IÅ‚ll not breach your maidenhead,
querida."
She couldnłt answer, she was so lost in sensation. Alejandrołs scent
surrounded her with the clean tang of soap and earth and heated man. His body
was firm against hers, his touch soft. It was so sharp, the rush of feeling. The
longing, it so sweetly hurt. Tears clouded her eyes.
He kissed her, mating his tongue with hers, possessing her with slow
thoroughness. She gave herself up to his mouth, to the wonder of tasting him and
touching him. Her hands could not be still. They tugged at his linen shirt until
she could slide her palms against his hot skin.
The sound of his swiftly indrawn breath pleased her. “God Almighty," he
cursed softly. “You torment me to madness."
Her hands found the warm column of his neck and drew his lips to hers again.
“Revenge," she whispered against them. “Revenge for the madness with which
youłve tormented me."
His lips tasted her, then slid away, moving down the column of her neck. His
breath heated her skin. “Two can play at this game, querida. Let me show
you how sweet such torment can be."
His fingers tugged at the ribbons of her bodice. Breathing became difficult.
Alejandro took his time with the task, the back of his hand teasing one erect
nipple.
He hesitated, finding her gaze. The question hung between them, unspoken,
rife with yearning.
“Yes," she sighed, knowing he would part the garment, knowing his head would
lower to her unveiled flesh and his lips would both ease the hurt and inflame it
more.
Soon shełd be lost to the storm that thundered between them. Soon shełd be
burned by the lightening that seared their two souls.

 
Chapter Six



Alejandro hardly dared to breathe. Like one who stood in reverence before a
gold-washed image of La Virgen, he swallowed down his awe. He
concentrated instead on the flicker of candlelight, on the shimmer and sway of
cloth as he lowered Annełs bodice.
“Dios mio," he said when he could find words. “You are so beautiful."
Her golden lashes fluttered upward and her lips parted with a tremulous
smile. Suddenly he wished he could always make her smile like that. It
transformed her face, made her look like an angel. Would her betrothed make
her smile like that? Alejandro cursed silently.
The candlelight fired her hair into gold flame. Her skin glowed in the warm
light. It seemed a sacrilege to touch her, but unrepentant sinner that he was,
he could not deny himself so fine a plunder. Instead, he prayed to savor the
moment, thinking a piratełs thoughts of silk and velvet, of luminous moonlight
and the luster of pearl as his palm slid around one perfectly shaped breast.
Anne gasped at his touch. His body jerked hard in response to the sound. What
was it about this woman? It would be too easy to lose himself in her, so easy to
forget honor.
“Alejandro." She met his gaze. He understood the silent request and took her
nipple into his mouth, sucking at her gently, twirling his tongue around the
supple flesh. She cried out and lurched against him. Even through their clothing
he could feel her curves, and that they were fitted perfectly to him.
The room was suddenly too hot. To do what hełd come to do would be harder
than hełd imagined. But sweet hell, who would have believed shełd lie like this
beside him, inviting his kisses and his caresses?
The surprise had nearly undone him. And now she stroked his chest and all he
could think was how wonderful it would be if he were skin to skin with her.
“What are you doing?" she asked when he sat up abruptly. He didnÅ‚t answer,
only removed his shirt. Her eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest,
darkening with something that looked very much like desire.
But when he took her again into his arms, he could not mistake her trembling.
He pulled back to look into her face. “Are you afraid?" he asked her quietly.

“No." But her voice was unsteady. She refused to meet his gaze.
Compassion filled him. “My sweet angel. You are afraid."
“No," she whispered. “I want this. Alejandro, I want you. ItÅ‚s only thatsoon
there will be no turning back."
She reddened a little beneath his gentle laughter. He kissed the tip of her
pert little nose before he rose from the bed.
“YouÅ‚re not leaving me?" Her words contained an edge of panic.
As if he could turn from a treasure so rare. “No."
He found his leather satchel, fumbled within it for a minute, then returned
to her. He held out a silver flask. “Fine English brandy," he said. “It will
calm your nerves."
She shook her head. “I donÅ‚t think I need it. IÅ‚m unaccustomed to spirits and
wouldnłt want to be too drunk to enjoy"
He chuckled. “You are adorable," he said, pulling her into his embrace and
kissing her brow. “And so innocent of vice. Trust me, there isnÅ‚t enough in this
flask to make a babe drunk, but it will help relax you." He lowered his voice.
“I promise it will make this night more pleasurable."
She lifted an eyebrow. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips in a
display so unwittingly devastating that Alejandro wanted to groan aloud. “Well
then." She smiled at him. “IÅ‚ll drink it. I have much to learn of pleasure." She
lifted the flask and drank deeply.
“Oh," she said, her eyes widening. She coughed delicately and wiped the back
of her hand across her lips. “ItÅ‚s warm."
He smiled. “You like that?" He pushed the flask toward her lips again. “Have
a little more. It will heighten all your senses, querida, and make what
is to come that much more memorable."
Her eyes found his and held. And for once, Alejandro Castillo, pirate and
unrepentant sinner, knew the keen prick of a guilty conscience.

 
Chapter Seven



“You were right," Anne said in a husky, slurred voice. “That brandy has made
me quite relaxed." She snuggled deeper into Alejandrołs embrace, her lips
grazing his nipple.
“Yes," he said quietly. “ItÅ‚s good that way."
“Your voice," she murmured. “I like it. ItÅ‚s so warm and deep. A manly
voice."
Alejandro laughed softly.
“It makes me feel things."
“Oh?"
“Wicked things. Things I should never feel."
Alejandro smiled, lifted her chin and kissed her. To his amazement, she
responded passionately, using her tongue with surprising expertise and lack of
inhibition. He almost gasped at the heat that knifed through his loins.
“And thereÅ‚s another thing," she said, tracing his lips with one finger.
“Those kisses of yours. I like them far too much. I want them all the time. I
want them everywhere."
“Everywhere?"
Her laugh was sultry. “Oh yes, everywhere. Is that wicked of me, do you
think?"
Sweet angel, you donłt even know the meaning of the word. What is wicked
is this thing IÅ‚m doing to you.
Alejandro looked away into the flame of a candle so that he could not see the
feeling shining in her drug-glazed eyes. “No, querida. To feel a womanÅ‚s
passion is not wicked. It can be a beautiful thing, worth much to the man you
love. It will strengthen him, give him comfort. Was it not for this reason that
the Creator gave woman to man in the beginning?"
Her heavy-lidded eyes met his. “And thereÅ‚s another puzzle, Alejandro.
Sometimes you speak like a religious man, as if you were brought up in the
Church."
“I was brought up in the Church."
She pointed at him unsteadily. “I knew it. At other times you speak as an
educated man."
“I am an educated man."
“Of the nobility?"
Alejandro frowned. “No."
“Were you?"
“Perhaps."
She sighed heavily and lay her head on his bare chest. “Too many mysteries.
There are too many mysteries. And IÅ‚m so tired."
Alejandro held the flask to her lips. “Take another drink, querida. It
will make you feel better."
She frowned. “I do feel somewhat awful, Alejandro. I donÅ‚t believe I shall
kiss you again. I donłt seem to have the strength for it."
“Then I will kiss you. And afterward, you will rest in my arms and sleep."
“Yes." She sighed deeply. “But donÅ‚t leave me, Alejandro. I never want you to
leave me."
The words made him hurt for her. Their time together would be so brief. Soon
hełd have to let her go.
He kissed her gently, watching her eyelids fall. “Sleep," he whispered. “I
will hold you. I wonłt leave."
She didnłt open her eyes, but her lips curved into a smile.
Alejandro waited until her breathing grew deeper and more even, then he
lifted her from his embrace and laid her gently back against the pillows. He
drew her bodice together and laced it. He stood and pulled his own shirt over
his head.
Then, knowing he was the worst sinner in all of Christendom, he blew out the
sputtering candle and waited.


 

Chapter Eight



Alejandro sat in the darkness, listening to the night sounds, and waited.
Before long, he heard what he wanted to hearBartołs sharp knife ripping through
the thick fabric at the rear of Annełs bender tent.
He turned his head toward the newly made entrance just as the huge African
stepped through, his shape a hazy shadow in the dimly lit space.
“What the hell took you so long?" Alejandro asked.
BartoÅ‚s laughter was soft. “I thought to give you as much time as you needed
with the little English senorita. I do hope you two had a good time together ere
she chose to nap."
Alejandro snorted in response.
Barto moved toward the sleeping woman. “SheÅ‚s out good, I take it?"
“Sleeping like a baby."
“She and all her Gypsy friends. I took care of that." Barto scratched his
head. “Good thing youÅ‚d spent time in a Romany camp yourself and knew better
than to drink their wine. It was a good trick and easy to turn to our advantage.
They thought me asleep, and so werenłt expecting me to drug their
wineskins."
“The horses are ready?"
“Of course. And I suggest we leave immediately. The storm isnÅ‚t far away now.
Already lightening flashes, and the wind has picked up and blows cold from the
sea. We might be hard-pressed to find refuge once the rain begins."
“ThereÅ‚s a town not far from here, and I saw a small stone church there.
Surely the good padre will not deny a night of sanctuary and a hot meal to three
stranded travelers."
“And how are you going to explain that youÅ‚re traveling with an unchaperoned
English senorita?"
“I donÅ‚t know. Maybe IÅ‚ll say IÅ‚m her brother."
Barto laughed. “Piracy. Abduction. Lust. You must want to truly deserve every
bit of the punishment youłll someday get in hell, mi amigo. Go ahead and
add lying to the list then."
“ItÅ‚s either that or risk the ladyÅ‚s reputation."
“Like you havenÅ‚t compromised that already?" Alejandro felt BartoÅ‚s searching
gaze in the darkness. “Do you honestly hope that her betrothed will believe her
virtue remains unstained? Even after weeks spent aboard a piratełs vessel? My
guess is that hełll set her aside, maybe cart her off to a convent somewhere, at
least until he can know for certain that her belly wonłt soon be swollen with a
randy piratełs bastard seed. Ah, Alejandro, if youłre hoping her life can return
to what it was before you came along, then you really are a poor, deluded fool."
Alejandrołs jaw tightened. He knew Barto didnłt mean to hurt him, but the
truth bit into his soul like a barbed arrow.
He glanced across to where Anne slept so innocently on the bed. He hadnłt
touched her. Despite the lustful imaginings of his own wicked heart, she
remained a chaste and untried virgin. But he knew the things a man thought, the
way her betrothed would think. Barto was right.
Damn it, Barto was right.

 

Chapter Nine



By the time Alejandro and Barto guided their horses through the muddy lane
that formed the main street of the small village, the storm raged around them.
Alejandro carried the sleeping Anne across his own saddle, close to his warm
body, with his thick woolen sea cloak thrown over her. It was little enough
protection from the cold rain, and soon both of them were thoroughly drenched.
That she shook with cold and moaned in her sleep made him worry. He didnłt have
a change of clothing for her. Hełd hoped to ride hard for the coast and be on
his own vessel by morning. But now the storm had caught them unprepared, and the
last thing he wanted was for Anne to become chilled and feverish.
He was thankful that the priest who met them just inside the doorway of the
church was a kind man and not overly annoyed by having been roused from his
sleep to attend to the needs of three bedraggled travelers. The young priest
had, instead, welcomed them in the name of the Holy Savior, and sent two nuns
scurrying for warm blankets and bowls of hearty mutton stew.
“Padre Francisco," he had introduced himself. “May I ask, sirs, to where you
travel on so dark and unpleasant a night?"
“WeÅ‚re heading for the coast," Alejandro said, volunteering no more than
necessary.
Padre Francisco studied the young woman held so tightly against his guestłs
body. “And the girl? She is ill?"
Alejandro shook his head. “No, Padre. Merely exhausted." He smiled gently,
looking down at AnneÅ‚s face, so lovely in repose. “ItÅ‚s been a long and
difficult night for her, IÅ‚m afraid."
“ItÅ‚s not good for any of you to remain in your wet clothing. I can spare
rooms for you to change into dry garments and beds for you to rest in comfort."
Barto threw Alejandro a worried look, which the priest immediately noticed.
Alejandro cursed silently. “Your kindness is more than appreciated, Padre," he
said, giving the priest his most reassuring smile. “But we have just rescued my
sister from a heathen band of Gypsies who abducted her and freely availed
themselves of her possessions. She has no dry clothing."
The priest looked concerned. “IÅ‚ve heard the Zincali were in the area, but I
had no idea theyÅ‚d do something so vile." He touched AnneÅ‚s cheek gently. “Poor
child. Perhaps the sisters here can find something. Will you allow them to take
her to their room and a warm bed?"
Alejandro was reluctant to let Anne go, but even he could not be so selfish,
not when she shivered almost violently in his arms.
“Take good care of her," he said quietly, “and I will recompense you for
whatever garments the good sisters can spare."
Alejandro followed the priest through a narrow hallway, past several
doorways, toward a dimly lit room at the far end of the corridor.
Before much longer, the two nuns had taken charge of Anne and pushed both men
from the room so they could undress her, chafe her chilled limbs and tuck her
beneath warm bedclothes.
Padre Francisco smiled at Alejandro as they closed the door behind them.
“Your sister will be much better by morning," he said. “By the time you see her
again, shełll be eating her breakfast and talking happily to us all."
And that, Alejandro thought grimly, was just what he most feared.


  
Chapter Ten



Thunder awoke Anne sometime in the darkest hours of the night. The smells
were unfamiliar, and when lightening seared across the sky, she could see the
room and that it, too, was unknown to her.
She sat up with a startit was the wrong thing to do. Her head pounded as
terribly as the torrents of rain that beat on the outside of the narrow window
set high in the stone wall. Her stomach rolled. She lay down quickly, fighting
the queasiness by swallowing hard, but not before she realized she wasnłt alone
in the room. Two women shared a bed on the opposite wall, snoring softly. And
she realized with horror that she was naked beneath the blankets.
Breathing heavily, she struggled to quiet her thoughts. Where was she? How
had she come to be here?
She tried to remember, but the last thing she could recall was being in the
camp of the Gypsies, Alejandro in her tent and she in his arms. He had held her,
had kissed her, had stroked her hair as shełd fallen asleep
Alejandro!
It could have been no other but him, abducting her again so he could demand
ransom money from her father. And hełd made her feel, made her want Oh, that
serpent! Such wicked magic arrayed in such handsome civility.
She didnłt know where she was, but she didnłt doubt that Alejandro was
somewhere nearby. She wanted nothing more in this moment than to scratch out his
eyeballs.
She rose from her bed, shivering when the cold air hit her naked skin. Her
groping hands found her clothing draped across a chair, and though it was still
slightly damp, she put it on anyway.
She slipped quietly through the door, determined to find Alejandro,
determined to make him pay.
She found herself in a long, dark and quiet hallway, but a light burned at
the far end and she made her way toward it. Pushing the door open, she found
herself in a church lit with candles and occupied by a priest who knelt at the
altar, facing a crucifix of silver.
He turned at the creak of the door.
His face was young and very kind, his dark eyes sweeping over her with
obvious concern. “My daughter," he said, rising from his prayers. “You are
well?"
“Yes," she said. “But please tell me, Padre. Where am I? And how did I come
to be here?"
“You are in a village not far from the port of Vigo. Your brother brought you
here, seeking protection from the storm."
“My brother?"
“Yes. He was very protective of you, very concerned for your welfare. He and
the big Moor who traveled with him."
Anne drew in her breath. So it had been Alejandro. Almost she had
hoped it would not be true. That hope had now been shattered.
“Padre," she began, meeting the priestÅ‚s kind gaze. “I must speak honestly
with you."
He nodded. “Of course."
“You do not understand. That man, the one who brought me herethat man is
not my brother."
The priestÅ‚s eyes widened. “Dios mio! Not your brother? But he said"
“He lied."
The priestÅ‚s scowl darkened. He gestured toward the nearest pew. “Sit down,
my child, and tell me what is going on here. Spare no detail. I will listen."
Anne sat and began to explain. And as she talked, the face of the gentle
priest grew more and more grim.


 
Chapter Eleven



Alejandro had just returned from an early morning trip to the jakes, halting
inside the doorway to the chapel to wipe mud from his boots, when Padre
Francisco spoke quietly behind him. “I must speak with you, senor."
“IÅ‚m sorry, Padre. I havenÅ‚t the time."
The padre met his gaze unswervingly. “I must, however, insist. Come with me."
The sanctuary was quiet, cool and lit by a single candle. The priest gestured
for Alejandro to sit.
Padre Francisco gathered his robes and took a seat. “IÅ‚ve learned much about
you, Alejandro Castillo, and am disturbed about you, disturbed about the state
of your eternal soul."
Alejandro groaned inwardly.
“I spoke with Lady Anne."
“Then you know sheÅ‚s not my sister."
“Yes. And also that youÅ‚re a pirate. That you abducted her for ransom. That
shełs been aboard your vessel for some three weeks without a proper chaperone.
And that youłve just aborted her attempt to escape."
“Then you know all."
“Not quite all. I donÅ‚t know why." He turned and looked Alejandro full
in the face. “Tell me why."
Alejandro snorted. “Why does anybody pursue such a life? Take such risks?
Because I need the money, Padre. Or rather, I need Annełs fatherłs money and as
quickly as he can pay it."
“Greed is a sin, especially so when it compromises the virtue of an
innocent."
“I havenÅ‚t compromised her virtue."
FranciscoÅ‚s gaze bore into AlejandroÅ‚s. “And yet you have attempted to do so.
Dare you deny it?"
Alejandro drew in a long breath. “I dare not. But she does remain a virgin."
“Will her betrothed think so? Her family and her friends?"
“I cannot help what they think."
“Ah, but you are responsible, Alejandro. You cannot dance lightly into a
womanłs life, twirl her around in your arms and then sidestep away, leaving her
circumstances forever changed. You cannot, in clear conscience, so damage her
reputation."
“Then IÅ‚ll do so with an unclear conscience, if I must. A conscience as black
as hell."
There was a long silence. “Then let me speak, so your wicked soul may be
stained yet more. The lady would not take me up on my offer of sanctuary, though
I did implore her. I suspect she loves you."
This was more than Alejandro wanted to hear. It made everything harder, more
complicated. It brought on guilt, harsh and unholy, and he had enough of that
already. “SheÅ‚s young. SheÅ‚ll forget such foolish notions in time."
The priest shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. And what of you, Alejandro? Will you
be able to let her go? Would you see her wed to another man?"
AlejandroÅ‚s jaw tightened. “What choice have I?"
“You might forsake your wicked profession and return to life among the
nobility."
Alejandro glanced up in surprise.
The priestÅ‚s gaze upon him was gentle. “Yes, Alejandro. I surmised this. You
speak as a nobleman, comport yourself as a nobleman, dress as a nobleman. You
can read and write. You command as one born to it."
“It matters not."
“Ah, but it does. The Almighty chose a high position for you. Why do you turn
away from it?"
“Because IÅ‚d rather hang as a pirate than waste my life as my father did,
abusing the poor to enrich my own coffers, drinking and gambling and womanizing
while the peasants who work the land go without food and warm clothing."
“Now thereÅ‚s something I never thought to seean honorable pirate. Aye, and
an idealistic one."
“Do you mock me?"
“No, but I do challenge you. If you would do the right thing, then do it also
for Lady Anne. Youłve compromised her honor. Although I could arrange safe
passage for her and smooth the situation with her betrothed, I donłt think
thatłs what she wants. You must decide. Either wed her yourself or let her go."
“I canÅ‚t marry her. IÅ‚ve nothing to offer."
“Not as a pirate, no. But as an aristocrat, you would. Change your
circumstances, Alejandro. Use your high birth for the betterment of others, as
God himself intended."
“No."
“Then let the lady go."
Alejandro stood abruptly. His eyes met the priestÅ‚s. “IÅ‚m sorry, Padre. I
canłt do that, either. Now if youłll excuse me, my companions and I must be on
our way."
Alejandro pivoted on one heel and hurried from the room, trying to ignore the
sharp stab of conscience.


 
Chapter Twelve



Anne stood on the deck, looking out at the purple and gold sunset and the
gently undulating arc of waves. Masts and ropes creaked above her head, and
canvas sails snapped. Shełd heard the seaman say they were making good time, but
to where? She had no idea, and Alejandro hadnłt said. In the past two days, hełd
not spoken more than basic courtesy demanded.
Maybe shełd made a terrible mistake not to have listened to the padre. She
could have been halfway to Portugal by now, or on her way home to England.
Instead, against all good sense, shełd rashly chosen to stay with Alejandro. She
only knew that when the priest had asked the question, “Can AlejandroÅ‚s soul be
saved?" her heart had cried out the answer: Yes, yes, oh yes!
Shełd somehow believed she could make the difference, but now she doubted.
Alejandro had distanced himself from her, though hełd also acted strangely with
everyone. Hełd been curt and taciturn with the entire crew. They never
questioned him or his ill humor, but they looked at him with open confusion.
Barto had told her only that something fierce was gnawing at his capitán.
He hadnłt said what that something was.
As if her uneasy thoughts somehow conjured the man himself, she heard
AlejandroÅ‚s rich voice behind her. “You seem lost in thought, my lady. Is
everything all right with you?"
She turned and nearly lost her breath at the sight of him. He stood, legs
braced apart to steady himself against the roll of the deck. His blue eyes
studied her with an intensity that made her ache. Wind ruffled the layers of his
black hair and flattened the cloth of the loose linen tunic against his muscular
chest. Her eyes were drawn to the corded strength of his neck and to the crisp
curl of hair just below that. Almost against her will, she remembered the sight
of his bare chest as shełd seen it in her Gypsy tent, his supple skin
illuminated by candlelight.
Something tugged hard at her body.
“If I know disquiet, I have good reason for it," she answered, forcing
herself to turn away from him.
He stepped forward, so close now that she smelled his warm and erotic male
scent, like wind and earth and spice. Anticipation raced along her spine,
mocking her. A man who scarcely talked to her would not touch her or hold her
and surely not in the presence of his shipłs crew.
“Perhaps your disquiet will soon ease. We are near our destination."
“And that would be?"
“The island is some distance from the African coast and quite beautiful. It
has sheltered coves and a most favorable climate. IÅ‚m taking you to paradise,
querida, and hoping with this offering to relieve your plight for a while."
He stepped to the rail, gripping it lightly, and looked toward the dark sea. “My
men are not happy with me for this choice."
“They are not?"
“No. This isle is our home. To take you there will breach the secrecy and
security of our haven." Alejandrołs gaze slid carefully across her before
returning again to the sea. “You could bring our destruction with what youÅ‚ll
learn of us shortly."
“YouÅ‚re afraid IÅ‚ll give away the location? Alert the authorities and bring
their wrath down upon your heads?"
“Perhaps."
“Then why make yourself vulnerable to me in this way?"
Anne held her breath. Alejandro turned to her, his gaze finding and locking
with hers. The pain she saw within them surprised her.
He held out a hand. She placed hers within it without hesitation. He drew her
closer. She shivered when their bodies made contact.
His breath was warm against her ear. “Because I cannot help myself. I want
you to know me, querida. To see me as the man I truly am. I want to share
my home with you, to give you paradise before I lose you forever."
He tilted her face upward with a gentle fingertip, and soon Anne knew that
paradise was not the island they were nearing, not something she would possess
in the future. It was the kiss Alejandro gave her, a kiss so full of anguish and
passion that she understood all his words did not say. Alejandro might withhold
his thoughts from her, but he could not withhold his heart.



 


 

Chapter Thirteen



Alejandro had left the ship early to make preparations for their arrival
ashore.
Hełd left Anne in Bartołs care, a task the Moor relished. The enormous
African had always been solicitous, but now he fussed like a mother hen,
scolding the seaman when they were too careless with their glances. Now he stood
beside her on deck, his shadow protecting her from the heat.
“I wouldnÅ‚t worry about what the men are saying," Barto said. “ItÅ‚s normal
for them to be wary. Pirates who are not so donłt live very long."
Anne didnłt need the reminder. Already she worried about Alejandro and feared
the moment when he sailed again.
“IÅ‚ll keep his secrets, Barto. I admit itÅ‚s strange of me to feel compassion
for Alejandro when hełs abducted me and demanded ransom, but I canłt help
myself."
Barto sent her a sideways glance. “Is compassion all you feel for him?"
AnneÅ‚s face heated. “II donÅ‚t know."
“Oh, I think you do know. And of course youÅ‚re confused and anxious." He
leaned closer. “But the capitán is an honorable man who deserves all the
love you feel. When you see him here on this isle, youłll understand better."
Bartołs words only added to Annełs confusion, but once theyłd rowed ashore to
the large, well-constructed building visible from the pristine beach, everything
began to make sense.
“What is this place?" Anne asked Barto. “All these men?"
“This is AlejandroÅ‚s home, and these men, theyÅ‚re his family." Barto smiled.
“Alejandro realized not long after he entered the seafaring life that there was
a serious need for a place of sanctuary for seaman of advanced age, or for those
wounded or scourged by illness. This place has become that sanctuary."
Anne looked around, stunned by the revelation.
“They do such work as theyÅ‚re able," Barto explained. “Alejandro insists that
life here be clean and orderly. Strict discipline is maintained. Theyłre
encouraged to be productive."
He stopped before a small circle of men, seated in the sunlight that streamed
in an open window. “You see this? These men are taking the silks, laces and
jewels of our captured booty and transforming them into a work of incredible
beauty."
Anne stepped closer, drawing in her breath when one of the men held up a gown
of exquisite workmanship. It was of shimmering burned-gold silk, with a skirt
wide enough for the farthingales worn by aristocratic ladies. Its bodice was
adorned with embroidery and flawless handmade bobbin lace, and further
embellished by an array of gemstones that sparkled amid the floral design.
“Oh, my," she breathed, almost afraid to touch the garment. “This is the most
elegant gown IÅ‚ve ever seen. It is absolute perfection!"
The men whoÅ‚d been working on it beamed with satisfaction. “Yep, sheÅ‚s a
beauty," said a grizzled old seamen, his crinkled face cracking into a smile. He
pushed his needle into a cushion and winked at her. “The capitán, he
thinks to sell it to the new queen of Castilla, or maybe to the wife of one oł
them grandees. Anł it ainłt gonna come cheap, neither. Wełve worked on this łere
gown for more Å‚n a month."
“ItÅ‚s quite lovely," Anne said softly, brushing her hand across the sleeve.
Barto took her elbow and escorted her away. She glanced at him. “This is why
Alejandro needs my fatherłs money, isnłt it? To provide this home for these
men?"
“Yes. ItÅ‚s why he chose piracy over a more ordinary life as a shipÅ‚s captain.
The reward was greater."
“But so is the risk."
“ThatÅ‚s true. But for Alejandro, itÅ‚s a risk worth taking. These men matter
to him. Theyłre his fathers, his brothers, his friends."
“He never mentions his true family."
“His motherÅ‚s dead. HeÅ‚s estranged from his father. Frederico Castillo is a
harsh, abusive man whose selfishness caused Alejandro to turn from him and all
he represents long ago. Hełs never once looked back. Not until now."
“Why now?"
Barto met her gaze. “Because now heÅ‚s met you."

 
Chapter Fourteen



Anne did not see Alejandro until the following day. He was busy with the
docking and unloading of his ship. But the following morning, she was surprised
to find him at her bedroom door even before the breakfast bell had rung.
His eyes darkened at the sight of her disheveled hair and the bare feet
peeking out from beneath the hem of her robe. “Forgive this early call," he
said. His voice, as always, awakened all her senses. She could scarcely breathe.
Alejandro held out a package wrapped in cloth and tied with a narrow white
ribbon. “I have something for you. I hope it will increase your comfort." Before
she could put aside her surprise, he bowed and hurried away.
The small package contained a simple linen blouse and bright skirt
embroidered around the hem, along with simple undergarments and well-made
leather sandals. That Alejandro seemed to care that her clothing was too ornate
and too thick for such a warm climate amazed and delighted her.
She met him again at the breakfast table, pleased with the masculine smile
that reached all the way to his blue eyes. He lifted her heavy golden braid,
which sheÅ‚d twined with the narrow ribbon, and slid it across his cheek. “Ah,
querida. Your beauty needs nothing more than this simple garb."
She curtsied prettily, wondering if her eyes glowed as did Alejandrołs, full
of feeling neither of them dared admit before all the men who now watched them.
After the meal, he escorted her out to the courtyard. “At last I can be alone
with you," he said huskily. “I missed you yesterday, but hope Barto proved an
adequate host."
“Yes." She smiled. “He gave me the grand tour. You have a lovely home. But I
am distressed to find all these seamen here."
Disappointment flitted across his aristocratic features.
“IÅ‚m disappointed to find them here, when they should be welcomed and
cared for in Spain. And in England. And in Portugal and Italy and every other
land that so pridefully boasts of naval prowess."
AlejandroÅ‚s relief transformed his face. “Then you understand why I chose
this life?" He released his pent-up breath. “My greatest worry has been that
youłd always and forever cast me into the role of villain. But I swearI never
meant harm to you."
“I know, Alejandro. Whatever I thought of you in the beginning has been
supplanted by sincere respect."
Anne was surprised to realize that the words were true. Four weeks earlier
shełd have eagerly spit into his face. But then shełd seen the kindness with
which he treated captured seamen, and the fair discipline he imposed upon his
own. Shełd seen his smiles, heard his laughter, tasted his kisses and tested his
honor. She had grown to love him.
Alejandro searched her face as if he were nearly incapable of believing her
words. For long moments they gazed into each otherłs eyes, both reluctant to
break the connection. “Come with me," he whispered in a hoarse voice. “ThereÅ‚s
something I desperately want to show you."
She placed her hand upon his forearm, feeling the tight muscle beneath the
cloth. “Yes," she whispered. She wondered if he sensed her excitement, and if
the thing hełd show her would fulfill all her most closely held fantasies.
Because with Alejandro, her beloved pirate, such fulfillment would be more
thrilling than any fantasy.

 
 
Chapter Fifteen



“We call it La Cascada," Alejandro said. “The Waterfall. The most
beautiful place on this island, and fortunately, a long distance from the cove."
“Fortunately?"
“Yes. Because, querida, we are alone."
There was no mistaking the invitation in Alejandrołs blue eyes, or the need.
Annełs core melted and quivered. When he held out his hand, she hesitated only a
moment. His laughter when he pulled her close was soft but triumphant.
“Your kisses should be outlawed," she whispered a few minutes later, after
Alejandro had thoroughly ravaged her mouth. “The effect theyÅ‚re having on me is
criminal."
“The feeling is mutual," he growled softly, in between nips as his teeth and
tongue eased down the sleek line of her throat. “You enslaved me the moment I
saw you."
Anne made a small sound of disbelief. “Of course. And thatÅ‚s why you were
able to so easily set me aside in the Gypsy tent."
“Ah, my sweet. What beautiful love we almost made that night. If I hadnÅ‚t
been so intent on keeping my angel with me, I would have helped her soar to the
heavens." Alejandrołs hand tugged at the ribbon which secured her blouse while
his eyes captured hers and held her. “Yet I grieved the loss. For days now IÅ‚ve
suffered because of that memory."
He dipped his head and lifted one pale breast from her blouse. “Will you let
me make it up to you now?"
She uttered a small cry as his mouth touched her volatile skin. His lips and
tongue were gentle and forceful at once, and her nipples throbbed their
sensitivity to the rhythmic laving.
As if he understood that her bones had all turned to mush, Alejandrołs arms
banded around her. But that, too, became more torture than sweet delight,
because now she felt the hard ridge of his manhood through her thin peasant
skirt. She arched her hips against it, pulsing in an instinctive way that both
appeased the need and aroused it more.
Alejandro must have felt the same. His hands thrust her hips hard against his
loins, alternately clutching and soothing her buttocks. It was a delicious
sensation, his large hands exploring her so wickedly. His tongue returned to her
mouth to capture her moans.
“I want you, querida. Pleaseoh sweet mercy. Please"
Anne wanted to be against him, skin to skin. She saw his eyes widen in
surprise when she stripped off her blouse. He sucked in his breath when she
tugged his shirt up and shamelessly rubbed her own pebbled nipples against his
chest.
“Let me see you, Alejandro," she whispered.
He captured her hand and pressed it to his loins. She explored him through
his clothing, but that wasnÅ‚t enough. “I want to touch you," she said. “Let me
touch you."
He unfastened and lowered his hose. Soon he stood before her, gloriously
robed in sunlight. His muscles gleamed, so firm, so beautiful. Anne stared
boldly at that which made him distinctly male, and struggled against
uncertainty.
Alejandro saw the fear in her eyes and pulled her close against his heart.
She could feel its steady throb beneath her cheek. “I wonÅ‚t hurt you," he said.
“WeÅ‚ll halt whenever you say. You have my word of honor. IÅ‚m yours to command."
But his kisses were arousing, and her body hummed a strange new song.
Surrounded by forests, she became one with the earth, as rich and elemental as
the soil. As the waterfall poured like music over rock, lifełs song now poured
through her, flooding her with sensation. Alejandrołs hands were like warm
sunshine, and somehowshe wasnłt sure howthey were both naked and straining
against each other, slipping down together to a bed of moss beneath the dark
trees.
It was sinful and beautiful, his parting her thighs and slipping between
them, meeting her hunger with his lips and tongue until she was crazed with
pleasure. He laughed softly when sunlight splintered all around her.
When she finally opened her eyes, he smiled down at her. “That was the most
beautiful thing IÅ‚ve ever seen."
She flushed and looked away.
He kissed her. “I did not use you carelessly. You still remain a pure,
untouched virgin."
But Anne knew the truth. Her soul was less than pure. And her heart was far
from untouched.
 
Chapter Sixteen



Barto was overseeing a rousing game of poque in the shaded courtyard when
Alejandro arrived back at the house in late afternoon. Barto said nothing in
front of the other men, but followed Alejandro into the house.
“Where have you been?"
Alejandro tried not to smile, but he doubted he could hide the happiness in
his eyes. Hełd just had the most enjoyable day of his entire life.
Anne.
Sweet Lord, have mercy. Even the thought of her made him tremble.
Shełd made him laugh. Theyłd swum naked in the pool, told their life stories,
kissed and caressed and tasted.
Hełd not actually consummated his desire yet. Hełd rushed her once before and
frightened her away. Better to take it slow now and savor the whole experience.
She would let him know when she was ready. And Alejandro intended that soon,
very soon, shełd be ready.
He knew seduction of a virgin wasnłt honorable. Like all good Spaniards, hełd
been reared in the Church and knew fornication to be wrong. But what other
choice had he? Hełd soon have to give her up for ransom money. Perhaps hełd be
able to endure that, if he could only love her first, could give herand
himselfbeautiful memories enough for a lifetime.
BartoÅ‚s voice jerked him back to reality. “ItÅ‚s a damn fool thing youÅ‚re
doing, Alejandro. Will you send the lady back to her papa with your seed growing
in her belly?"
“Stay out of my business."
“Like hell I will. YouÅ‚re getting tangled up in emotion, and you need
somebody to help you think straight. It wonłt do to fall in love with the
senorita, not when shełll have to go back soon."
“I know what IÅ‚m doing. Besides, who can say how long sheÅ‚ll be with us? It
might be a while yet."
Barto shook his head and pulled a white envelope from his shirt. “No, it
wonÅ‚t. Remember that letter you sent to her daddy? Well, Capitán Mendoza
arrived back in our harbor this afternoon, and hełs pleased to report that the
fellowłs most obliging. The ransom moneyłs already in a chest on the ship. This
letter tells you how and where to return the girl.
Alejandro suddenly felt as if the sun had fallen from the sky.
 
* * *
 
Anne was in her room when he found her. For a moment, he could only stare at
her. The sun had already begun to color her skin, giving her a healthy glow that
was natural and beautiful. Her eyes sparkled more brightly, and her lipsoh, the
remembered taste of her already needled his groin.
He wanted her again, right here in this room, in that bed there, with the
last rays of the day illuminating her smooth skin and the golden curls of her
feminine mound.
But first they had to talk.
It was a matter of honor to Alejandro that he explain the situation as
dispassionately as he could. He did not want emotion, either hers or his, to
cloud judgment. But it was damn hard when every word he spoke dimmed the light
that had given life to her eyes.
“I suppose I should be thankful for this?" she asked him. “Pleased that you
wish me to stay with you? Pleased that youłre offering to make me your
mistress?"
The hurt in her voice did not bode well.
“I will adore you, querida. YouÅ‚ll never regret it. I give you my
heart and all I have."
“What youÅ‚ll give me is dishonor and a bastard child."
“I know you care for me. What we have Oh, my angel. You know youÅ‚ll not feel
this for the old man waiting in Portugal."
Anne shook her head. “No, Alejandro. I will not, much to my sorrow. Yes, I
love you, but you cannot offer me what I most desire. A good name. A home.
Children born of legitimate marriage. My answer is no."
Alejandro studied her for a long momenthis angel, his beloved angelseeing
her as hełd seen her during the afternoon, naked in the pool, alive with
passion.
Shełd made her choice. But how on earth would he be able to let her go?

 
Chapter Seventeen



Alejandro was hell-bent on getting drunk. But damn it, the bottle was already
half-empty and he still hurt. Paradise had never felt so much like
perdition.
Barto found him, though Alejandro didnłt know how the big man had known to
look for him here.
“YouÅ‚d better be careful," Barto said, gesturing toward the waterfall.
“Drunks and deep water donÅ‚t usually go well together."
“IÅ‚m not in the mood for your sarcasm," Alejandro growled, his voice slightly
slurred.
“So what are you in the mood for? Death by rum?" Barto snorted. “I never
thought to see you brought so low by a woman."
Alejandro took another long swig from his bottle.
“So tell me, Capitán. When did you fall in love with her?"
“Hell if I know."
“What are you gonna do about it?"
“Nothing. She wonÅ‚t have me."
“And youÅ‚re full of manure. Anybody knows better than that. She loves you.
Itłs in her eyes, written all over her face."
“I asked her to stay with me. She said no. She wants marriage. Legitimate
children." Alejandro made a soft sound of disgust. “I hope for her sake the old
man in Portugal is still able to rut."
Barto looked incredulous. “WhatÅ‚d you do? Ask her to be your mistress?"
Alejandro took another drink.
“Hell." Barto shook his head. “No wonder she turned you down. What
self-respecting lady would not?"
“I canÅ‚t give her marriage, you know that. I have nothing to offer her. IÅ‚m a
pirate."
“Yeah. A pirate who also happens to be heir to one of the most noble houses
in all of Spain."
“I donÅ‚t want that."
“But you do want Anne and she wants that."
There was a long silence. Alejandro considered taking another drink, but he
was suddenly feeling sick. And dizzy. as if the earth had shifted beneath his
feet. “My father“
“Is a selfish ass. But you are not your father."
“And what of my men? My obligation to them?"
“They could only benefit from knowing a powerful grandee. One with influence
at court and whołd use his familyłs wealth to make life better for every
Spaniardpeasant or nobleman, old Christian, converso or Jew." Barto drew in a
long breath. His gaze searched AlejandroÅ‚s face. “DonÅ‚t you see, Alejandro? You
could have it all."
“Maybe IÅ‚d miss the adventure."
Barto laughed. “Marriage to a spirited woman like Anne would be an
adventure."
For a moment, Alejandro let himself imagine it:
Anne smiling into his eyes as he kissed her good morningevery morning.
Her hair loose around her breasts, making his nights sensual and warm.
Her face soft, her belly large with his child.
Anne laughing in the courtyard as she played with the precious little ones he
wanted to make with her.
It could be a sweet life. One that would be worth the sacrifice. One hełd
never have if he let Anne return to England now.
He drew in a deep breath. “My father wouldnÅ‚t know what to think were he to
hear from me after all these years."
“I suspect heÅ‚d be glad of it. HeÅ‚s aging, and youÅ‚re his only heir."
“IÅ‚ll not apologize to him. DonÅ‚t ask me to do that."
“IÅ‚m not, and I doubt heÅ‚ll care if you donÅ‚t. WhatÅ‚s past is past. You can
only go on from here."
Alejandro pushed the cork into the bottle. “Help me up, would you? IÅ‚m not
too sure I can walk straight. But if youłll somehow get me back to the house, I
guess IÅ‚ll write a letter to that stubborn, old fool."
Barto rolled his eyes as if to say that maybe Alejandro had inherited a
little of that stubborn foolishness himself, but he said nothing as he slipped
an arm around Alejandro and began the awkward job of helping his capitán
stumble home.

 
Chapter Eighteen



Something strange was afoot. And Anne, the outsider, didnłt know what it was.

During the past two weeks, shełd often caught seamen whispering and casting
furtive glances in her direction. But there was no way they could know about her
wanton behavior. Besides, it appeared therełd be no more of it. The pirate was
keeping his distance.
Logically it was for the best. She couldnłt become his mistress, but that
didnłt stop her heart from yearning, and that path could lead only to folly.
Yet it irked her that he seemed happier somehow. His face, his whole
manner, seemed more youthful. Was it her imagination or did he laugh more these
days? He certainly seemed pleased enough to have her out of his way. Not at all
flattering andwell, strange.
Then Barto had asked her for an afternoon walk on the beach. Shełd hoped hełd
discuss his captain; he hadnłt. Hełd mentioned only unimportant things like the
weather and books and dancing and the nightlife of Sevilla.
Then this very morning, the cook, who usually growled at anybody who dared
come near his pots and pans, had sought her out to ask her what particular foods
she enjoyed.
All this made her uneasy.
The discomfort only increased when Santiago, a sailor whołd taken a
particular liking to Anne, joined her as she sat beneath a shade tree with her
embroidery. She looked up.
“The capitán sent me to give ya this." He held out the golden gown
that the seamen had made. Its jewels sparkled in the morning light.
“Give it to me? Whatever for?"
“He wants ya to put it on. We gotta see if it needs anything else done Ä™fore
he goes to sell it. Wełre in the big dining room. Just come in there once ya get
dressed in it."
Anne placed her embroidery in her basket and rose with a sigh. “Give me a few
minutes. Itłs not easy to dress in something this elaborate without a proper
ladyłs maid."
“IÅ‚ll tell that to thÅ‚ capitán." Santiago shrugged.
By the time Anne had wrestled herself into the gown and coiled her hair into
an appropriate coiffure, she was hot and annoyed and tired of being ignored by
Alejandro Castillo until he needed her for something.
But the sound of the guitarra and a cantaor singing a love song
in Spanish made her stop in surprise at the dining roomłs open doorway. All
Alejandrołs seamen were gathered there, dressed in neat clothing, their faces
scrubbed clean. They turned to her.
Anne stepped in and lost her breath at the sight of Alejandro, so immaculate
and handsome was he, dressed like a Spanish nobleman in expensive, well-sewn
clothing of contrasting black and white. Shełd never seen him look so fine, and
his eyesthey were the color of blue flame.
He moved toward her with lithe grace and took her hand, kissing it like a
practiced courtier. She stared in amazement, suddenly envisioning him standing
in a grand ballroom or bowing before a monarch.
“YouÅ‚re beautiful." His eyes swept over her. “The gown seems made for you."
“ItÅ‚s lovely. YouÅ‚ll have no trouble selling it."
“Actually, IÅ‚ve already sold it. To a Spanish grandee who wants his
bride to wear it on their wedding day."
“A fine choice. SheÅ‚ll be beautiful in it."
“Yes, she will. However, this grandee has a problem. HeÅ‚s never
formally asked the lady for her hand and so, does not know whether shełll
accept."
Anne glanced up. “Perhaps sheÅ‚ll not refuse him when he does ask."
“I hope not. Because you see, heÅ‚s already obtained a priest, prepared the
wedding dinner and invited all the guests."
Alejandro swept his hand in an elegant motion. It was then that Anne saw
Padre Francisco smiling at her from the front of the room. She stood stunned,
the realization seeping in.
Her gaze found AlejandroÅ‚s. “YouÅ‚re a grandee?"
“I am. But IÅ‚d be far more pleased to be your husband, if youÅ‚ll have me."
Never had two words been more difficult to say. Her heart had tangled in
emotion. “I will," she finally managed. “Oh, Alejandro, I will."
He loosed the breath heÅ‚d been holding. “Then come, my love. The priest
awaits."
And with her hand in his, Anne let herself be led to the makeshift altar to
speak vows she meant with all her heart.


 Chapter Nineteen



“This was a marvelous idea," Anne said, looking around at the candlelit
space.
Alejandro turned toward her. “What? The wine? Or the lace-edged sheets? Or
the ship?"
“All of it." Anne laughed happily, hugging her arms around herself. “Oh,
Alejandro. I can hardly believe wełre truly wed, much less alone together aboard
your ship to enjoy all that should naturally come next."
Alejandro drew her into his arms. “I can assure you, querida. Good
Padre Francisco made certain of the first. And I" he nibbled playfully at her
ear “I made certain of the latter. Once this night is done, there will be no
way to seek an annulment. No one will dare take you from me. Not your father,
not your betrothed, nobody."
“IÅ‚m sorry my father could not have seen me wed you," Anne said quietly. “He
never really wanted me to wed Don Pedro. He always hoped IÅ‚d have what he had
with my mother. They were very much in love."
“Then I should be able to appease his anger with the straightforward truth
and a generous financial gift to offset the dowry lost with the breaking of the
troth."
AnneÅ‚s palms slid down his cheek. “IÅ‚m certain of it, Alejandro. So ease your
mind."
“WeÅ‚ll be returning to Spain before long," he said quietly. “I have written
to my father that IÅ‚m coming home."
“IÅ‚m glad," Anne said, hugging him tightly. “Your place is no longer here."
AlejandroÅ‚s intense blue eyes found hers. “My place is wherever you are."
Anne lifted her lips. “Then, my love, let me welcome you into the safest
harbor, the most calm bay. The place that will always, always be your
home."
Alejandro understood the sensual invitation and took her lips with a groan.
“Oh, Anne." She met his passion with passion of her own, without restraint.
Alejandrołs face showed an odd tension when he pulled away from her after the
searing kiss. “I am at such a loss, querida. Though I would woo you
gently on this most sacred of all nights together, you are tempting me sorely
with such passion."
“The vows have been spoken and sealed by the Church. I see no more reason to
hold back. Do you?"
A slow smile spread across AlejandroÅ‚s lips. “I knew youÅ‚d let me know when
you were ready."
“IÅ‚m ready." Anne clutched her hand into his garment and pulled him hard
against her body, smiling into his smoldering eyes. “Believe me, I am more than
ready."
The sound Alejandro made in that moment was guttural and harsh, the feral
sound of a man who needed to consummate pent-up desire. And his hands, how hot
they were! How bold they were in touching her, making her desperate with
arousal. Within a short time they were both naked, their skin sliding like hot
silk against each other.
Her world was spinning hard upon the axis of desire that she wanted to scream
with frustration when Alejandro pushed himself away from her, his eyes as dark
as a stormy sea.
“What are you doing?" she asked when he walked, in glorious, full arousal, to
the other side of the small cabin.
“I need a drink," he said. “IÅ‚ll pour you one, too. It will steady us."
She frowned at him when he brought it back. “Seems weÅ‚ve been here, done
this, at least once before."
He laughed. “Aye, but not quite. This is sweet Spanish Madeira, perfect for
this first night of love. I will taste it on your lips and savor the taste of
both woman and wine."
“And for me?"
His eyes darkened. “It will lessen the pain of the rending of your virtue.
For in truth, my angel, I do not want to cause you pain."
“I welcome it, Alejandro," she whispered. Their eyes caught and held. “I will
cherish even that if it makes me your woman for all eternity."
“Merciful Savior," he breathed, his eyes closing. “The things you can do to
my heart." He opened them again, and Anne saw an agony of love there. “Take one
long drink of it then and there shall be no more waiting."
Anne tried to do as he said, but even so sweet a wine could not be measured
against the taste of her anticipation.


 
Chapter Twenty



Alejandro and Anne drank the wine as lovers, locking arms, sipping from the
same place on the rim, licking droplets from eager lips with eager lips.
Yet the moment held a sacred quality that culminated when Alejandrołs lean
fingers lifted the goblet and set it aside. Their gazes met and joined in solemn
understanding.
“ItÅ‚s time, querida," he whispered hoarsely.
She came to him without hesitation, and he lifted her into his arms. The bed
dipped beneath their weight.
It was a pleasure almost too wonderful to be endured, to have Annełs body
stretched alongside his, her soft curves bared to his hard muscle, hearing her
breathless sighs as his fingertips stroked her skin.
It was almost too wonderful to have her meet his every touch with one of her
own, to feel her delicate hands upon him, seeking out his sensitive places.
The candlelight was soft, their voices muted. Love words were murmured,
scarcely heard, thoroughly understood. Time hung still, breathless with unsung
harmonies, an ancient song sounding through endless ages to reach full crescendo
for them in this evening of rare and marvelous discovery.
And Alejandro understood love for the first time.
He wanted to weep beneath the tender ministration of her hands, wanted to cry
out his joy. Annełs taste lingered on his tongue. Her scent caressed him. No one
person had ever mattered to him more.
By the time his knee gently nudged her thighs apart, he understood the
significance of the marriage night and gladly surrendered himself to it. He
would pour all of himself into her, imparting the very essence of his soul,
sealing the covenant. It would be life to him and death to him, consuming him in
sacrifice and completion.
He tested her and found her moist and ready for his penetration. Her eyes,
heavy-lidded, sultry with passion, met his as he rose above her.
“Yes," she whispered. “I want to be yours."
“You always have been."
She gave him a beautiful smile. He drew back and thrust into her, destroying
the final barrier. He held her until the pain subsided, until her body accepted
his possession.
He felt her sigh against his chest. “YouÅ‚re so gentle," she whispered. “And I
love you so much."
His heart wanted to burst with feeling.
Instead, he moved against her, within her, telling her with his body the
things he had no words to say.
Slow.
Love was beautiful when it was slow, with skin slipping against skin and the
air tasted of their mingled smell.
Yet joy would not be contained. It pushed him, danced with delight around
him, urged him faster.
And love was beautiful in exuberance, too, when the music of Annełs sighs
became a chorus of female pleasure cries.
She neared climax, and Alejandro wanted her to soar, to leap, to fall into
pleasure. “Yes, angel," he urged her. “Fly to paradise."
As if his words broke earthly chains, she screamed his name, clutching him
hard against her as he also pulsed and groaned and fell into sensation.
Joy beat hard through his veins, killing him, healing him, bringing him to a
place of peace. Bringing him home.
He was still thinking of safe harbors and Annełs warm arms when she laughed
softly.
“WhatÅ‚s so funny?" he asked, pleased that joy lit her eyes.
She traced a fingernail down his chest. “I just remembered something I forgot
to tell you."
“That you adore me? Love me with every breath until your dying day?"
She pushed at him playfully. “No, Alejandro."
“What? You donÅ‚t adore me?"
“No. I mean, yesI do adore you, but I forgot to tell you that itÅ‚s likely
youłll sire twins. They seem to run in my family. Almost every woman in my line
has borne at least one set."
Alejandro groaned and nipped at her ear. “Now you tell me. After IÅ‚ve just
seeded your womb with plenty of possibilities."
Anne looked momentarily worried. “Would it have made any difference?"
“Absolutely not. Unless it would have made me more eager. Because, sweet
angel, I want desperately to be father to all your children."
Her eyes grew soft. “Oh, Alejandro."
The kiss she gave him was a seal to the promise. Alejandro tasted his wife
and prayed they might be so blessed. For nothing could please him more. From a
pirate to a padre
Life with Anne was going to be an adventure.
The End