Wrong Kind of Paradise

Suzie Grant

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or

dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Wrong Kind of Paradise

Copyright © 2011 by Suzie Grant

Cover Design by Melissa Hartsell

Edited by Mindy Moore

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical

means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written

permission.

For more information:

www.suziegrantauthor.com

Even the Hell’s Angel needs a guardian and English Privateer Blac Barclay is unwillingly recruited

for the job in this high seas adventure.

Blac must choose between revenge against the British Lieutenant who’d ruined his family or

keeping his word to the pirate who’d saved his life. Escorting the pirate’s daughter to her grandfather’s
care becomes impossible when the little wanton steals his ship. Ordered by the lieutenant to retrieve the
woman they call the Hell’s Angel, Blac is determined to honor his word to his friend and use the
wayward wanton as bait. But will his plan cost him the only woman to ever steal his heart?

When Angel De’haviland’s father is imprisoned with charges of piracy, the pirate’s daughter

commandeers a British privateer’s ship and plans to kidnap a high ranking official to ransom for her
father’s release. But her attempted abduction is foiled by the very captain whose ship she’d stolen, and
she becomes a captive herself. Now she must trust her handsome captor to free her father as he leads her
right into the Wrong Kind of Paradise.

Dedication

To my wonderful critique group, the historical romance critique group. To each of you who helped

me brainstorm, corrected my horrible grammar, and contributed to this story. Thank you. And to my dad

for always showing me what a true hero should be. Special thanks to my editor Mindy Moore.

One

1689
A remote isle off the coast of Cuba

Changing Captain Barclay’s mind may not be as easy a task as Angel De’Haviland had first

imagined. Unfortunately, he continued to see her as “Logan’s daughter” and the more she tried to convince
him she’d grown during his absence, the more distant he seemed. Now how to accomplish such a feat
when the man had damn near killed himself trying to avoid her?

The privateer waded his way to shore as more and more of his men gathered around her. Waist-

deep in pale, cerulean water the man took her breath away. Sunlight glistened off the droplets on his chest
and shoulders. Such a delicious vision of bronzed maleness. Unfortunately, he still considered her a child,
despite the fact that she’d passed her eighteenth year last summer. So one question remained: how to
change his mind?

A frown marred the good captain’s features. Of course, her actions over the last several days had

probably tried his patience to no end. He would surely accuse her of distracting his crew again albeit the
only person she intended to distract was him.

Angel grinned and flipped her ashen locks over one shoulder. With her legs braced wide she

taunted one of his crewmembers, “En garde, Eric.” She raised the cutlass and waved it in a figure-eight.
“Now, we’ll see who is the better man.”

The first clang of metal split the high-pitched chatter of the Jamaican Becards in the distance. Eric

raised a single brow. “If yer a man, then I must have drunk too much of that swill served in the Black
Lagoon.”

A small crowd of the ship’s crew gathered around, shouting bets. “Thirty shillings on Angel!”
“Ye ain’t got that much, Strider, ye bleedin’ freeloader.”
Shouldering his way into the throng of men, Blac grabbed Strider’s shirt and pushed him aside. “Get

back to work.”

“What do I get if I win?” Eric asked as they paused with swords straining between one another. The

waggle of his brows clearly stated he expected more than any modest woman should give. The tell-tale
leers and soft laughter of the others all confirmed what Eric had on his mind. This time her plan would
work, judging by the very jealous captain’s scowl as his brows drew so closely together he resembled a
hawk.

“What do you want?” Her tone didn’t inquire; it seduced.
Delighted, Angel smothered another grin. She’d certainly caught Blac off-guard since his return.

Perhaps, she simply enjoyed punishing him for all those years he’d ignored her. Either way, she’d never
dreamed she could hold this much power over him, but with the discovery, she simply couldn’t resist
taunting him.

Angel had never behaved this way before but once she unleashed the temptress within, she would

not be locked away again. I’ve loved this man half of my life now. Captain Barclay would fall in love
with her. One way or another.

Eric sent a wary glance in Blac’s direction and performed a mock bow. “Only a littl’ jig with the

most beautiful lady ‘ere tonight,” Eric said, deflecting her next assault with a return jab.

Caving under the captain’s warning glare, Eric refused to play along with her. Blac nodded and

turned back to the ship. Hmm, we shall just see about that, Blac Barclay. She would not be ignored so
easily.

Angel cocked a brow. “And here I thought you’d request a kiss in a dark corner somewhere. I

looked forward to having a heated embrace with a real man who knows just what a woman needs. But
alas, you’re playing the gentlemen with me.”

Blac whipped around to glare at her. Young Eric’s eyes rounded then roved across her figure,

heating to a degree that should’ve blistered her skin. When he opened his mouth to speak, Angel skipped
away. “Ahh, too late! You’ve lost your chance, so a dance ‘tis.”

Both of the captain’s brows rose as his mouth dropped open in shock, and Angel giggled. You are

mine for the taking, Blac Barclay. You just don’t realize it quite yet.

~*~

Angel had become a threat. To herself.
At eighteen, the lass had turned into a flirt and a perpetual tease. Privateer Blac Barclay, imagined

nothing short of a good, old-fashioned paddling would cease Angel’s scandalous behavior.

He sighed. I need to save Angel’s wayward neck again.
Her father, Logan, had asked him to keep her entertained today, but the task was proving impossible

as the only distraction came from her. How the hell am I supposed to keep my men on task with her
around?

The Serpent, a double-masted Brigatine, lay on her side while members of his crew — or the

members who were still on task — scraped the barnacles from her hull. They had less than two weeks to
get the chore done and get off this isle. Unfortunately, his escapades with the pirate’s daughter were just
beginning, as unbeknownst to her, she would be traveling with him.

Angel remained unaware of the incident that had changed the course of her life. Logan would send

someone when Angel’s belongings were packed, but he had seen no sign of them yet. Until then, he just
had to keep her busy.

But that was proving to be a task unto itself.
Reluctant to make his way through the crowd to stop the unfolding scene, despite his conviction he

must, Blac watched the opponents face off with a mix of curiosity and raw lust.

The dueling pair circled each other inside the perimeter of the gathered crowd. They danced across

the sand in perfect timing. Sunlight glinted off the matching cutlasses, and the rhythmic clanging escalated
with the ever-increasing shouts of his men.

Eric pounced with a series of attacks. “Either way, I get to hold you in me arms.”
“I wait with bated breath,” Angel said, slashing with a single swipe. The impact sent Eric back,

protecting his midsection.

She retreated several steps and allowed him to follow her. In midstride, she attacked again, her

stance solid and her skill unbelievable. But of course why shouldn’t it be? After all, Blac had been the
one to teach her.

Three years ago, Blac had left behind a skinny, knock-kneed young lass who, despite her lack of

size, could best most of his men in battle. He’d returned a week ago to find a fully-matured woman who
used her feminine wiles as cleverly as her sword. The combination was as compelling as her blue-green
eyes.

But when Eric’s cutlass sliced through the thin material of her shirt across her belly exposing the

creamy skin beneath, the boy paused. Angel took advantage of the opportunity and struck his sword with
enough force it soared from his grasp. With a single sweeping kick, young Eric found himself flat on his
back.

Great move.
Blac had taught her to take advantage of every opportunity. To never underestimate an opponent no

matter their size or strength. He’d also taught her to use her wits as well as her might. The man with the
stronger sword arm could very well lose to the man with the smarter strategy. What better strategy for a
woman than seduction?

She laughed — a magical sound. Her slender brows rose over a pair of azure blue eyes. The

muscular lad found himself at her mercy. With purpose, she propped one slender bare foot on the lad’s

chest. Her gaze settled on Blac though. “It is a pleasure to see a man flat on his back for once.”

Stunned, Blac struggled to close his gaping mouth. Two red blossoms sprouted on the young

seaman’s cheeks, whether from the embarrassment of losing to a female or lust, Blac knew not. The hot-
blooded siren smiled seductively at her crowd of men. “It is an interesting paradox of the strong suddenly
becoming the vulnerable isn’t it?”

Time to put an end to this. Blac strode to her without hesitation, lifted and set her several feet

away. Eric rose to good-natured slaps and chuckles from the rest of the men.

Playing with a man’s emotions, sexual or otherwise, wasn’t wise. Angel couldn’t possibly

understand the consequences of her teasing. Or did she? To speak in such a way to any man, let alone a
member of his crew who were known for their shady pasts, meant Angel knew more than she should at her
age. She played the come-hither game. The only difference between her and the buxom whores hanging
out the windows in the village was that Angel was still a virgin. Or was she?

It had been quite some time since he’d been to the isle. Perhaps the little minx had become a woman

in every sense of the word. Blac’s frown deepened. He should be happy she’d found some other sap to
chase. After all, it solved the problem of having her underfoot so often. He should be thrilled. Shouldn’t
he?

And yet, his first instinct was to squash the competition.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Angel?” he growled from between clenched teeth.
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, outlining their shape. Blac swallowed.
“Why must you ruin my fun?” Her tone wasn’t sulking as one would imagine. It was soft, seductive.

She didn’t complain; she challenged him.

“Why must you tempt my men?” He crossed his own arms. “Do you wish to see them punished?”
She smiled. “Perhaps. I wouldn’t mind seeing a man on his knees for once.”
Once again his mouth dropped open. “Where did you learn such filthy language?” He shook his

head. “Don’t answer.” He already knew the answer. Living amongst pirates and prostitutes her entire life,
with a father who doted on his daughter entirely too much, what else should he expect? “Logan should
really consider locking you up somewhere,” he grumbled as he reached for her arm. There was little to no
privacy on Logan’s island, and the infamous pirate certainly hadn’t tried to curb what his eighteen-year-
old daughter had witnessed over the years.

He seized her arm to stay her, but she attempted to jerk out of his grasp. He held firm.
“Do you wish to take up where Eric left off?” she asked.
He paused and arched a single brow. “Meaning what exactly?”
“Meaning remove your hands from me this instant or find yourself flat on your back with my sword

at your throat.”

Surprise widened his gaze, but he couldn’t let this little challenge pass. Not by any means.
Aware of their audience, Blac, pulled her closer by the upper arm so the others wouldn’t overhear.

“Angel,” he whispered against her ear. “Let me be the first to warn you...despite being Logan’s daughter,
should you try it, you will learn soon enough what it is like to have a seasoned sailor between those
lovely thighs of yours. And I assure you, little one, it’ll be an experience you won’t soon forget.”

Cerulean eyes rose to his. He saw no fear. Instead, her soft lips spread into an invitation. “I have

waited half a lifetime to hear those words from you. I assure you, I look forward to the day those words
become reality.”

She leaned up, laying a hand on his chest for balance. Heat seared the skin on his chest from her

palm and the fervor in her eyes scorched him to his toes. “It is you who will be surprised, as I am more
than woman enough to handle the ride you so temptingly offer.” With a toss of her flaxen locks, she
whirled and headed back toward the village.

Had the little vixen just promised to lay with him or had he been fantasizing again?

Blac stood, still digesting her words. Surely, he’d just misheard her. But, his gaze followed the

movement of those hips before she disappeared around the curve in the trail.

A macaw screeched, taking flight above him and jarred him out of his trance. He took one step, then

another.

Those weren’t the hips of a child, and by God, he’d just heard the very words he’d dreamed of

hearing from her since he’d returned.

Angel needed a lesson in propriety. And he damn sure didn’t mind being the man to give it to her.
She crossed the bridge ahead of him. He ran now, darting between the palms to catch up. His hand

glided across the rough, oak rail as the Jamaican Mango hummingbird flitted from side to side to avoid
him.

He jerked her around so hard she lost her balance and fell into him. He caught her but paused. Why

did she have to feel so soft? So smooth?

“Does your father know you speak so openly, miss?” he asked.
“Does my father know you lust after me?” she countered.
Blac let go of her as if he’d just been burned. “Any woman who is scantily clad in a pair of cut off

pants will arouse a man’s lust. Not just mine, Angel.”

“It isn’t the pants arousing your lust, Blac. It’s what’s beneath them.”
He ground his teeth together. Yes, and I can imagine running my hands across those smooth

thighs.

“How will your father feel should he learn what a little tease his daughter has become?”
She snorted. “He hasn’t even noticed I have breasts yet.” She crossed her arms, and his gaze

immediately fell to said breasts. She laughed. “Ahh, but you have. Haven’t you, Captain?” He turned
away from her. “Look at me, Blac.” She said his name like a caress. “Look at me.”

God’s bones.
He looked. He shouldn’t have.
“You’ve noticed I’m all grown up.” She ran her hands down her sides to emphasize her point. “It

didn’t take much for you to notice I’m a woman now with a woman’s needs.”

No, it hadn’t taken much at all.
By God, I’m a decade older than Angel. I should be stoned for thinking these things.
She’d developed an infatuation with him over the years but he’d never imagined he’d feel anything

beyond friendship for her. That it would turn into something...like...

Obsession.
Passion.
Lust.
He’d been so careful to mask the growing attraction for her. Blac wiped a single hand across his

face. How did one tell an infamous pirate his daughter was chasing him about like a dockside whore? The
little hellion knew more about flirting than a seasoned courtesan.

If she kept up this kind of behavior, Angel would be married and pregnant by year’s end by one of

his men.

Or worse, by him.

~*~

“Ever since your return you’ve watched me,” Angel whispered. “I’ve felt your eyes.” For four

years she’d waited for some sign of interest from this man. She reached up to trace the tick in his jaw line.
Well, she had his attention now. “Did the women in London bore you to tears?”

“I’m well satisfied with my current arrangement.” His dark hair fell across his brow and dripped

with seawater. She would love to run her fingers through it if she didn’t think he’d jump right out of his
skin. As it was, Blac would fight his attraction for her to the very end, of that she was certain.

She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so, Captain Barclay. I nearly melt every time your eyes touch

me.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had a beautiful mouth. Would he kiss her now? She certainly
hoped so.

He started to shake his head but stopped. “You will never make a proper, docile wife like this.”
“But you don’t want a docile wife.” She grinned and placed a warm palm on his naked chest. The

strength under her palm fascinated her. He hissed as if she’d burned him and stepped away from her.

“Bloody hell!”
Perhaps she shouldn’t enjoy this so much but, it was becoming more and more difficult not to smile.
“I don’t want a wife, docile or otherwise,” he said, running a hand through his wet hair.
“No.”A sultry chuckle escaped her as she circled him, and their gazes locked. “You need a man’s

woman. One unafraid of your dark looks and temper. One who will roll about the bed sheets unafraid of
her own sexuality and yours. You could never be satisfied with anything less.”

Unspoken words hung in the air between them. Blac Barclay needed a woman like her. She didn’t

need to voice them though. According to his frown, he knew exactly what she implied.

Cannon fire exploded and split the late afternoon air, and a flock of birds burst into the sky. Angel

froze, eyes wide. Her palm on the trunk of the banana tree slid to fall by her side.

Her gaze met Blac’s before he scanned the horizon. She couldn’t move. “Don’t do anything

impulsive,” he warned.

Again, the thundering sound reverberated beneath them and her feet took flight. She darted down the

narrow, tree-lined path, Blac’s shout following in her wake.

Her heart faltered and pounded against her ribs.
Papa!
Horrible images assaulted her and every terrifying scenario she could imagine flickered through her

mind. She couldn’t lose her papa too. After the death of her mother when Angel was four, her father had
become her whole world. He’d doted on his only child and had given her everything. In fact, she could
only remember being punished for her antics once when she’d managed to stow away on Blac’s vessel.
They’d been two days out to sea before Blac had found her hidden amongst the ammunition in the hull.

Her father had been furious at her. She’d never seen his temper before that day and she never

wished to see it again — at least when it was directed at her.

Fear pumped blood through her veins and she increased her pace, soaring over the jagged terrain

like a sea gull. She leapt over a fallen limb and her shirt snagged and tore, captured by the offending
brush. The wind tore through her hair and, despite the cooling breeze, her palms moistened.

Her greatest fear reared its ugly head. She’d always known the risks of being a pirate’s daughter but

she had refused to imagine the consequences. And now, each one of them flashed before her eyes like a
horrible nightmare she could not awaken from.

Smoke billowed in the sky above the trees, and tears scalded her cheeks. Blac yelled from behind

her. She ignored him and streaked through the trees, faster now. Her gaze rose to the smoke and she
tripped, landing with a hard flop to her knees. Pain shot through her limbs, and she grimaced.

She clambered to her feet and took off again. Breaking through the thick foliage of the narrow path,

she stopped. Smoke came from the harbor. Running between the buildings, she raced down the street with
chaos erupting all around her.

Seamen dashed in and out of buildings, some carrying weapons. Loud screeches and screams

echoed throughout the village as the women sought shelter.

Alarmed, Angel searched for a familiar face. Where was her father?
Edging closer to the wall, she flattened her hot palms on the cool brick to ease their shaking.
Her gaze found the familiar ship in the harbor. Flames licked up the tall masts and flickered against

the indigo backdrop of the afternoon sky. The acrid scent of smoke filled the air and replaced the tang of

the sea. Jostled aside by two men, she paused by the sight in the cove.

The beautiful sloop rode tall in the water, and the whitecaps brushed against her rounded hull. The

inferno sent waves of heat into the air and surrounded the ship with a cloak of red.

She spotted the familiar carved mahogany figurehead of the mermaid. Angel’s hands flew to her

mouth in horror. Her heart sank. Someone knocked into her and she stumbled, but couldn’t remove her
eyes from the ship anchored in the cove.

A loud crack followed an eerie screech as the mizzenmast toppled over and hung on the side of the

ship before finally sliding into the waiting arms of the ocean.

Her father’s ship. The Scavenger.

Two

The Navy!
The HMS Serenity, HMS Dread, and last but not least, the HMS Newport lurked just outside of the

harbor. Cannon fire exploded, and seconds later the tavern behind Angel splintered into pieces. She
ducked. Shards of wood soared into the air then fluttered to the ground.

Horrified, she smothered a gasp with her hands. The Scavenger creaked as the ruthless grasp of the

ocean enveloped it. Red-coated soldiers landed on the beach below town and spread out, firing at anyone
who resisted arrest. Several of her father’s men took up arms, and the clang of swords ensued while the
women grabbed their children and disappeared into the trees.

A hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her back. “Don’t make a sound,” Blac whispered

harshly against her ear.

He rounded the corner behind the building and lifted her onto his shoulder. Stunned, Angel’s gaze

widened and she gasped, kicking in earnest.

“No! I need to find Papa!” Angel pounded his back with her fists. “Blac, put me down.”
He loped down the path back toward the cove at a quick pace and leapt over a fallen tree. His

shoulder jammed into her stomach and made her gasp. Disgruntled, she mumbled, “Do you want my
breakfast back?”

“Just steer clear of the boots, please.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “You can’t just leave Papa back there to fight alone, Blac.”
“I’m not. But first, I’m going to make sure you’re safe. It’s exactly what Logan would want.”
Angel sighed. She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. But she wasn’t a simpering damsel in distress

either. She was perfectly capable of helping to find her father.

Her hair caught in the brush and yanked at her scalp. Hanging upside down, she peered through the

tangled strands, but dizziness assailed her at the whir of scenery.

“Put me down, Blac. I’m going to be sick.”
His only response was a chuckle.
He deposited her by the beach where his crew worked and ordered his men to restrain her. Angel

scrambled up from the sand, brushing the grit from her rear. She flipped the tangled mass over her
shoulder and glared at him. But he didn’t spare her a glance.

Blac relayed the events taking place on the other side of the island to his first mate. “Mr. Santiago, I

want her safe. If anything happens to her you’ll answer to me.”

The dark-skinned Spaniard with the scarred face nodded. Rigo grasped her arm without being too

forceful and led her away from his captain. He sat Angel down near a copse of trees and settled into a
sprawl. Angel blew a frustrated breath out and crossed her arms over her knees. Her bare toes sank into
the warm sand as she sighed. Why must Blac be so damned stubborn?

“Find Logan’s men,” Blac directed. “As many as you can and get this goddamned rat trap in the

water. I want to set sail sometime before we get arrested!”

Men burst into activity all at once. The shade of the trees kept the blaring sun off her but the heat

continued to baste her under the canopy of foliage. A tiny rivulet of sweat rolled down the side of her face
to drip off her chin onto her shoulder. She glanced at Rigo. He ignored her and proceeded to carve a
piece of wood.

Maybe she could just slip away when he wasn’t paying attention.
“Don’t even think about it, Angel. I am quicker than you, cara mia, and I will catch you before you

get ten feet.”

Angel frowned. Blasted Spaniard, how can he read my thoughts?

Several hours later, twelve men from her father’s crew had been found. Some of them had been

injured and were brought in on makeshift stretchers. Among them, her father’s first mate, Bruno, limped
across white sands as blood dribbled down his leg. They filed through the palms one-by-one and joined
Blac’s men on the shore.

But none of them were her father.
Her chest grew heavy and she squeezed her eyes closed. Please, let Papa be safe.
The Serpent was finally set in the water and loaded with supplies. Smoke billowed above the

treetops to the north of them; its acrid scent hung in the air as a reminder. She couldn’t stand being here
idle while her father was possibly fighting for his life. She should be right there beside him.

Angel wiped a bead of perspiration from her brow, her eyes on Blac. One of his men ran toward

him from the direction of the village. His gestures as he spoke were urgent. Seconds later, Blac took off
through the meandering path in the woods.

Had the crewman found her father? Had he been captured?
Her heart skipped a beat. Her gaze swung to Rigo, asleep now beside her. She held her breath and

moved. The Spaniard gave no indication of waking and she stood, glancing around. Everyone appeared
too busy loading the ship to notice her, so she faded into the jungle foliage.

Her heart pounded inside her chest, anticipating the sound of an alarm. When no such warning came,

Angel whirled and headed back to the village.

Palms moist, breath broken and muted, Angel broke through the trees on the path and headed

northeast for the village. No one knew this island like she did. It’d been her home since she was born. She
knew every square inch, every path, every nook and cranny.

Darting across the path, she cut through the bamboo and ferns. She’d make it to the village at about

the same time as Blac did. Several moments later, she knelt and parted the limbs of a Hibiscus bush.
Silence reigned — an eerie, foreboding silence.

She slipped her way into a back alley, headed for the docks. Unease slid along the back of her spine

and every hair rose on end. Dread kept her feet moving and her mind frozen. Angel peered around the
corner of the last building. Fear made her hesitate. A sixth sense told her she wouldn’t like what she saw.
Papa, I hope you’re safe.

She took a deep breath and forced herself look. With her back to the wall, she slid down the side

until she reached the front of the building. Her eyes widened.

Most of the men on the isle had been taken prisoner, lined up along the beach, waiting to be loaded

onto the ships. She searched each face, every feature, looking for her father. Where was he? Had he been
captured too, or had Blac already found him?

Her gaze swung from the unfolding scene before her to the direction she’d just come from. Should

she return to the beach just in case?

Her heart beat faster, but the heavy thumping seemed almost in slow motion. She inched closer to

the edge, hoping to see something. Anything.

She must have made some noise for one of the soldiers turned to look in her exact direction. She

jerked back. Her chest heaved. Motionless, she jammed her eyes closed. Just breathe. No one saw me.
No one saw me.

Minutes passed and no alarm sounded. Flattening her palms against the cold wood of the building to

cool them, panic welled inside her.

Just one more look and then I’ll go back. She nodded to herself. Blac would never even know

she’d left. Surely, he’d found her father by now and they would both be safe on the other side of the
island. But just in case… She needed one more look.

Angel sighed. Everything will be all right. I’m just being silly. Still, she peered around the corner

once more.

Her heart plummeted. Her mind screamed.
Battered and beaten, her father stood in a single-file line before several soldiers. Somehow she’d

missed him in her first search but there he was…Chains shackled his wrists and ankles, while blood
dripped from his wounds. She wanted to run to him. She must have screamed in reality rather than in her
mind, for several people turned to gape at her. Including her father.

His eyes widened. “Run! Angel, run now! Find Blac!”
She shook her head. Three soldiers sprinted toward her. She wanted to stay to fight, but her feet

only moved back.

Her heart leapt and she whipped around to flee. Stumbling, both hands reached out to right her, and

she dashed back the way she’d come. She weaved her tracks hoping to confuse any would-be trackers.
Her lungs burned inside her chest and she clutched at her stomach as its contents roiled within.

Oh, please don’t get sick now.
Angel glanced quickly over one shoulder to see if she could glimpse the soldiers and smacked right

into something hard. Arms reached around her, clasped her, and pulled her behind the tree.

Blac. She didn’t need to see him; she could smell him. She trembled in his arms and his large hand

cradled her head. He pulled her close until they stood chest to chest.

“Always into something.” His tone soothed her fears.
She relaxed almost immediately. Blac had always saved her from one instance or another. This time

would be no different. It was why she loved him. It was why she knew he loved her as well.

“Shhh,” he whispered.
Forcing herself to calm her ragged breaths, she nodded. He held her close and an odd sensation

cascaded through her body. A trickle of awareness that seemed to radiate from her very center made her
pulse leap in response to his touch.

Blac let go and moved her behind him. Bereft of his warmth, she shivered. He indicated silence

with a finger to his lips and for her to stay put. She nodded, too afraid to move.

He crouched low and moved away. Angel pressed as much of her body against the tree as she could

and tried to peer around it. But apprehension kept her from moving any further.

A limb snapped. The soldiers closed in. She leaned her forehead against the tree as the pressure of

its bark imprinted itself into her soft skin.

Please, just make them go away.
She closed her eyes. Silence made its eerie appearance in the woods and cold chill’s formed across

her flesh. Anxiety tightened her shoulders. A muffled thump came out of nowhere before silence reigned
again.

What was that?
Her eyes shot open and she waited.
Nothing else moved. Where was Blac? Why hadn’t he stayed here with her? What if he’d been

captured, too? What would she do?

Angel jammed her eyelids shut. A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and slid down her

cheek, streaking its way to her jaw.

Seconds passed and she could no longer just stand here doing nothing. She took a deep breath and

dared a look. Blac! Where did he go?

The jungle didn’t move. It seemed even Mother Nature held her breath. Her eyes darted from left to

right searching the surrounding area. A green monkey suddenly fell into her vision from the limb above
her. She gasped and fell backward on her haunches. She looked up. The monkey hung from its tail upside
down and tilted its head sideways at her. She sighed and got to her knees again. The little monkey swung
its attention to the east and then scampered back up the tree.

She clambered back to her feet and peered around the tree again. Breathing rapidly, the wind

entered her lungs noisily. Don’t be afraid and soften your breath!

She could almost hear Blac’s instructions. You can do this, Angel.
She took a deep, calming breath and a single step away from the tree. Her head swung from one

direction to another, searching for some clue to Blac’s whereabouts. Where had he gone? Why had he left
her here alone?

Had something happened? Why didn’t he make his presence known so she wouldn’t worry so?

Maybe he’d fallen and was bleeding to death. She searched the ground for any signs of tracks.

Desperate now, she dropped to her hands and knees and whispered, “Blac!” Please answer me.
She crawled across the sand, its gritty warmth soaking between her fingers. “Blac! Where are you?”
Christ’s bones, why didn’t he answer?
A sand crab tunneled out of the sand, and she jumped to the side. She gave the crab a wide berth

and kept moving. “Blac! If you’ve left me here alone, I swear I’ll kill you myself.”

Two hands reached around her waist and lifted her to her feet, just as a soft chuckle sounded in her

ear. “Is that right?

A huge breath of relief exploded from her lungs as she broke away from him. “I thought you left.”

She gritted her teeth and poked a finger in his chest.

“Now why would I do that? I’m still waiting on that ride you so sweetly offered, remember?”
“I’m not likely to be so accommodating now. You should’ve taken the offer when I made it, you

arse.”

“I will have to remember that next time.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Come, we have to get back

to the ship.”

He clasped her hand and led her back through the woods. They broke through the brush to see the

Serpent in the water, just off-shore. The beach swarmed with red-coated soldiers. She sucked in air as
Blac and she were surrounded immediately. Instinct made her grasp his hand for comfort. “What’s going
on, Blac?”

He hissed through his teeth, grabbed hold of her wrist. “Just let me do the talking, Angel. I mean it,”

he whispered. “Don’t say a damned word.”

The crowd of men split and a slender, narrow faced man came forward with a tight smile. “Well,

Captain Barclay. I see you and your crew fared the trip well. We had a difficult time keeping up with that
swift little raft you own.”

Blac smiled.
Angel tensed, and some sixth sense told her something huge was about to happen.
“That’s the beauty of the brigantine, Charles. There are few ships that can keep pace with them.”
The man cleared his throat and gave a tight smile. “Lieutenant Worthington,” he corrected. “She

may be fast, but will she hold up under duress?”

“That’s the thing, Charles, sometimes brute force doesn’t win the fight. Quite often, it’s the more

strategic man who takes home the spoils of war.”

The lieutenant winced at Blac’s intentional use of his name. “Indeed.” He turned toward Angel.

“Speaking of spoils of war, I see you captured Logan’s little wench.”

Blac’s jaw twitched. “This is his daughter.”
Surprise rounded the lieutenant’s eyes. He waved a hand. “Nevertheless, she’ll be someone’s

wench soon, won’t she?”

Blac’s fists balled up. Suspicion held Angel immobile. How did these two know each other?
“Aren’t you a little early? I believe the deal was for two more weeks,” Blac said.
The lieutenant dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Why wait? I figured we should get it done

and over with. Don’t put off what you can do today.”

Blac’s gaze narrowed on the lieutenant. He held up Angel’s wrist. “I have taken her prisoner. I’ll be

returning to Port Royal with her posthaste.”

Angel swung toward Blac, aghast at his words. “What?” His grip tightened on her wrist and she

struggled to free herself. “What are you doing?” she shrieked.

Lieutenant Worthington glanced from her to Blac and then back again. “I see she is feisty. Perhaps

she will be too much for you to handle, old man.”

Blac returned the half smile. “Ahhh, experience overcomes young energy any day. As you grow

older, you learn exactly how to tame a woman with a gentle hand and less fuss. It saves you the energy of
fighting with her when there are always better things to do with a woman.”

“Indeed.” He smirked at Blac. “Well, I do wish I could allow you to retain your spoils of war, but

the King has ordered me with the current task at hand. You were simply along because you knew where
the island was located. Your services have been very informative and the King, I’m sure, appreciates
such loyalty from his subjects. As do we all. I wish you luck in your next venture, old chap.” Charles
nodded. “Men, seize the chit and let’s get to the ship.”

~*~

Escape!
The word possessed Angel, replaying in her mind until it finally formed a prison all its own. The

sun sank into the horizon, radiating brilliant hues of pink and gold. The path cut sharply down into a steep
ravine littered with multi-sized boulders just below them. Tall tips of palm trees reached into the cerulean
sky like gigantic sentinels.

The grip on her arm tightened considerably until she winced. Tension coiled between the two men

walking beside her, after Blac had announced he would escort them. They were headed toward the
harbor. The lieutenant had informed her she would be sailing with him on the HMS Serenity. Blac seemed
even more distant than ever. Quiet. Contemplative.

But then again, why shouldn’t he? He had just betrayed his best friend’s daughter. Perhaps guilt had

set in. She hoped it ate him alive until only his skin and bones were left.

The path narrowed. Blac brush against her, and her breath stalled. Even after his betrayal, he could

still affect her senses.

Silence so thick one could slice right through it lingered between them. The snap of a limb caused

her to jump. Blac glanced at her. His questioning gaze flitted between her face to Charles’s grip.

The lieutenant again tightened his grasp and she struggled to break free of its bruising vise. She

glanced at the man. His eyes were hard and unyielding.

A steady clomp of feet on packed earth echoed. She stumbled over an exposed root and again the

hand increased its pressure. But he slowed his rapid gait.

Blac’s hand steadied her. “Charles, I am forced to concede and allow you to take the girl back to

Port Royal. But if you do not loosen your grip on her-” Blac reached a protective hand to her hip, trying to
place her behind him. But Charles’s hand held firm. “I will kill you.”

The lieutenant smiled. “Seems to me, ol’ man, that you’re a little outnumbered.”
“You and I both know that won’t help you any.”
Angel glanced between them. Blac’s tone was perfectly modulated but the fury thrummed between

them. His eyes appeared almost black with rage.

The lieutenant chuckled and though his grip loosened considerably, he did not remove his hand from

her. An extreme pink imprint marred her skin in the shape of his fingers.

Musket fire erupted and birds took flight over head. The soldier in front of her slumped to his knees

without a sound. Before he hit the ground face-first, Blac yanked her from the lieutenant and shoved her
behind him. Another shot split the air and the second soldier fell. Blac pulled his musket, ducking them
both behind a narrow tree. The lieutenant ducked nearby with his own weapon at the ready. Heavy
footfalls pounded through the brush before the tall familiar black figure appeared. Bruno trained his

cutlass on the lieutenant.

“Bruno!” she gasped out. Thrilled he’d come for her.
Her father’s first mate didn’t glance at her but waved her closer with his other hand. She raced to

his side, only once glancing back at Blac.

Blac’s features appeared grim, his lips thin, his jaw clenched. His eyes moved from Bruno to the

lieutenant, then to her. He nodded to her as if to give her permission.

“Toss your weapons. We should tie them up,” she said.
Bruno nodded, handing her the musket and cutlass. Yanking the piece of hemp from the waist of his

weathered trousers, he sliced it in two with a dagger. She held the weapons on the lieutenant but kept a
wary eye on Blac as the two men tossed their weapons into the surrounding brush. Bruno tied the
lieutenants hands behind his back then moved to Blac.

“This is a crime against the King, young miss,” the lieutenant said. “You do realize this makes you a

criminal, much like your father?”

“I’ve pledged no allegiance, and therefore I serve no king, whether it be yours or anyone else’s,

sir.”

A single brow lifted. “Is that so?”
“Yes. You’ve arrested an innocent man, Lieutenant. My father has committed no proven crimes.”
“You deny your father is a pirate?”
She sneered. “Proven is the key word, sir. If you do not know its meaning then perhaps you should

look it up.”

The lieutenant laughed but his eyes grew distant. Cold. “Miss De’haviland, you’re a delight but

even so, ‘twill be my pleasure to hunt you down and hang you right alongside him.”

“Indeed. Then I shall look forward to the chase.”
Her gaze turned to Blac, as Bruno stood to his full height and took the pistol from her.
Blac’s gaze caressed her. “Take care of her, Bruno.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
Bruno nodded to him.
She gritted her teeth. Blac had betrayed her. He’d betrayed her father. She tilted her chin up. “It is

not over between us, Blac. There was a time when I would have gladly given my life to save yours, but
the same cannot be said about you in regards to my father. So, the next time we meet, we will be
enemies.”

Three

Angel knelt beside Bruno and Max O’Rielly, her father’s sailing master, just beyond the clearing

within the brush. She swatted the fern leaves from her face. Six of her father’s men gathered with her.

“Keep down and keep quiet,” Angel admonished. She ignored the look Max shot to Bruno,

considering the black man was a mute and obviously couldn’t make a sound. “You know what I mean.”

Jungle foliage completely roofed the shaded area and shadows traced the leafy walls. Tiny rivulets

of sunlight broke through the overhang to jab into the darkness and provided the only meager light.

Blac’s men loaded the ship anchored several yards offshore. Various sized crates and barrels lined

the beach. A crewman kicked sand over the pit fire and several more lugged the containers to the raft.

“I know Winston and Barnette are on Blac’s ship. I saw ‘em earlier,” said Max. “We’ll only have a

total of twelve to fifteen men.”

“It’ll have to be enough,” Angel replied and shrugged. “At least until we can get to New Providence

to pick up a new crew.”

“Aye, we have to get there first, lass. This be a right crazy idea, Are ye sure ye wish to do this?”

Max shifted on his knees and wiped a hand across his sweaty brow.

Angel nodded.
“Angel,” Max admonished, pulling her around to look into her eyes. “This will make ye a pirate

like yer father. Be certain this is what ye want ta do. No doubts. Once the deed be done, there be no way
ta undo it.”

Angel lifted her chin. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get my father back. You can either help me or stay

behind, the choice is yours.”

Max nodded and sighed. “If there be nay way to talk ye out of it, then I be with ye. But yer father

will likely skin my hide, Angel.”

She grinned. “He’s been threatening you with worse than that for twenty years now.”
“Aye, but none of the things I’ve done afore were quite as bad as turning his wee daughter inta an

outlaw,” he mumbled. “So how do ye propose we do this? Cap’n.”

“Maybe we can cause a distraction of some kind?”
Bruno gestured toward the barrels lined in a neat little row. Max frowned and rubbed a hand across

the white stubble on his chin. “Aye, the rum. Tha’ be rum in those barrels. It’s a sailor’s lifeline. The men
will do everything they can ta put out the fire.”

“But we have to get past that blasted Spaniard.”
“Aye,” Max replied and nodded his head. “Rigo be a scurvy bilge rat. We must tread softly err

we’ll hang from the hempin’ halter for sure.”

A dinghy made its way back from the ship and a seaman dragged it upon the sand to be reloaded.

Rampant activity bustled across the area as men worked to load the Serpent.

“We don’t have time to think about this,” Angel said impatiently. “We’re going to just have to do it

and see what happens. Blac will be free soon and I’m afraid we won’t be able to get by him as easily.”

Bruno nodded and made his way through the foliage close to where the supplies were. What if they

couldn’t pull this off? What if Rigo captured them? How would she free her father then?

I’ll have to figure that out after it happens. But I have to try.
Max ushered her forward. “Be ready to run to the water and then swim to the ship, lass, like it be

yer last breath. When I say go, run like the devil be on yer heels.”

He will be on my heels, as soon as he gets free from his bindings.
Seconds passed, four men filtered out around Bruno, and several hand signals were made, but

Angel didn’t understand them. She waited. Her heart pounded its way out from under her ribs and she
couldn’t seem to hold a deep breath.

The sun seared like a white eye in a cloudless sky. Heat rained over them; not even the shade gave

any relief. Sweat trickled down the side of her temple to drop off her chin and land on her collar.

Bruno picked up a bottle of rum, emptied it, and poured gunpowder into it from his musket. Then he

tore off a piece of fabric from the bottom of his shirt. He placed it in the bottle and lit it. A single toss and
it landed atop the middle barrel.

Max held Angel’s arm and waited. Five, four, three, two and the explosion rocked the ground

beneath them. Blac’s crew scurried toward the fire to put it out. Angel ran to the ocean’s edge, and she
dove into the water behind Max. Her arms sliced through the waves and she came up briefly for air.

She glanced back. Pandemonium ensued as men ran forward with buckets of water while others

kicked sand onto the orange ball of flame.

Max swam close to her. “By Christ’s toes, Angel, swim!”
Salt encrusted her upper lip and her hair stuck to her forehead. Swallowing seawater, she coughed

at the grittiness of it.

They reached the dropped anchor and one by one climbed up. The rest of them made it look easy but

she found it otherwise when it was her turn. She shimmied up a few feet before the burn of her upper arms
caused her to lag behind. They only had so much time before anyone realized what was happening. She
must be quicker than this.

Her breath whizzed inside her chest and fatigue almost took over. Half way there. The chain gouged

into the tender skin of her hands and she set her jaw. I must escape to free my father.

One hand over the other. Another six inches.
Exhausted, she heaved herself up once more. Her foot slipped and her hands slid. She gripped

harder but her wet, slick hands could no longer hold onto the iron chain. Just before she released the
chain, Bruno’s hand clasped hers.

He hauled her up until he could grab her upper arms and lifted her easily over the side of the ship.

The mute smiled, his white teeth a contrast against his dark skin. He’d been in her father’s employ for
twenty years now, and he’d become like a second father to her. She squeezed his hand, nodding her
thanks.

The rest of them fanned out, kneeling low to keep out of sight from those ashore. Three of Blac’s

crew remained on the ship. They were dispatched quietly and tossed into the hold.

Two men weighed anchor. Angel climbed up the shroud, her bare feet grasping the hemp like a

monkey’s toes. Nimbly, she crawled across the fore yardarm and released the sails.

She made her way back down to the deck. Minutes later, the ship lurched forward. Blac’s men

swam toward the ship. They’d been discovered. Exhilaration filled her. She’d done it!

The clang of metal chocks and the snap of the canvas rang in the air. Angel braced her legs to the

roll of the waves and sent a mock salute to Rigo on the shore. The Spaniard lowered his crossed arms and
headed toward the tree line. He would search for Blac now.

She hoped Blac and the lieutenant hadn’t killed each other yet. When he learned of her deception,

he’d come after her. She lifted her chin.

But this time, she knew what to expect from him.

~*~

“Help!” The lieutenant wriggled and cursed.
“Must you make so much noise?” Blac complained. Almost free. If the lieutenant would be still,

he’d have them out in no time.

“How else are we to be found?” Worthington bellowed for help again. “You shouldn’t have let the

twit go.”

“Me?” Blac sawed at the rope with the small knife he’d retrieved from his boot. “And how was I to

stop her?”

Worthington sighed. “Do you believe I am daft? A man of your stature and experience could’ve

easily overcome the girl.”

Blac rolled his eyes. “You didn’t notice the six-foot, mute moor who’d rescued her, I take it?”
“Do not patronize me. You were their friends. They wouldn’t have hurt you!”
Rigo, Blac’s quartermaster, materialized out of the surrounding brush and hailed them. The two

seamen with him rushed to release them. Thank God. Temptation to kill the lieutenant had become too
much to ignore.

Blac stretched his back and rubbed his wrists.
“Good God man, why did it take you so long to find us?” the lieutenant barked.
Rigo ignored Worthington and turned his attention to Blac as they headed back to the cove. “’Twas

Miss Angel. She managed to distract us, sir.”

Damned impulsive woman. “What happened?” he asked.
Rigo rubbed a hand down his face, hesitant. “She caused some chaos, sir.”
“Just spit it out, Mr. Santiago.”
The trail back to his ship gave way to the opened clearing. Just beyond, the painted horizon

twinkled with the first appearance of stars. Seagulls dipped and amassed at the edge of the cerulean
water. His men all sat about in various spots along the beach front in small groups, cleaning up debris.
The scent of charred wood carried on the breeze and a niggling warning showed its ugly face.

Something didn’t fit. Where was his ship?
“Why aren’t they on the ship, Mr. Santiago?”
One of his crew tossed a burnt plank of wood into the sea. “Why the hell aren’t they readying the

ship—” His voice broke off. Realization dawned on him and his eyes widened.

The empty cove opened to a vast, blue blanket, and a tiny dot rode on its horizon. Waves broke on

the sand and washed up scorched wreckage.

Blac hung his head, clamping his jaw tight. “How?” His voice barely registered among the crowded

men. No one answered. Blac ticked the seconds by in his head. Someone cleared his throat nervously.
“How!”

“She set the barrels of rum waiting to be loaded on fire as a distraction, Cap’n. She and her men

had the sails raised before the smoke cleared enough for us to see her,” Rigo confessed.

Both fists clenched at Blac’s side. He imagined her little neck in them. “By God I’ll kill her! She

stole my ship!”

“And burned the rum!” One of his crewmen muttered.
But why? What the hell did she hope to accomplish?
Charles laughed behind him and he whipped around. One hand seized and clasped the man’s throat.

The lieutenant’s eyes widened just a fraction as he gripped Blac’s arm. His crooked grin wavered.

Fear flickered across lieutenant’s features. But it didn’t assuage Blac’s sudden need to thrash

someone. He tightened his hold for a mere second. “I’ve yet to give my word to you or the King on
anything thus far, Worthington, but I’ll give you my word on this.” He leaned closer. “By the year’s end, I
will have The Serpent back and I will personally hand you the girl.”

~*~

Stagnated air assaulted Charles as he climbed below decks into the darkness. Lieutenant Charles

Worthington ducked his head under the ship’s framework and moved further into the dank hull of the ship.
The brig at the rear of the hull was only a five-foot by four-foot cell but it would serve his purposes this
day.

Water dripped from the ceiling onto his waistcoat. He wiped it away, glad it hadn’t marred his

pristine white shirt. He avoided this part of the ship like the plague. It was too dirty, dank, and smelled of
unwashed bodies and disease.

A frown of distaste spread across his features. He would get done with this business as quickly as

he could. But he would enjoy every second. He smiled again. “Logan,” he said placing a single hand on
the iron bar and peering into the cell of the defeated man inside.

Charles almost clapped his hands in glee. But of course, he tapped down the ridiculous urge. Things

couldn’t have worked out any better for him — well unless of course both Logan and Angel had been
captured. At least he had Logan.

Logan appeared much older than Charles would’ve imagined. His black hair sported plenty of

white at the temples and streaked throughout his full beard. He sat on the floor, hanging his head between
his knees. Logan raised his head. There wasn’t a look of defeat in those stormy, blue eyes as Charles had
first imagined, but rather anger. Pure, unadulterated rage.

The pirate rose to his feet and Charles stepped back. Logan stood head and shoulders taller than he.

He was so broad of shoulder he almost filled the entire cell. Immense shoulders sloped to a massive
chest. Lines bracketed his mouth and fanned his eyes, and were the only signs of age on the man.

Charles lifted his chin. “So we finally meet at long last.” He smirked. “Can’t say as I’m really

honored though.”

“The English have no honor.” Even the timbre of his voice was colossal. Deeper than the average

man’s, it reverberated against the walls of the hull. A chill crept down Charles’s spine and he realized
now why this man’s career had been so successful. One look at this man and people surrendered.

Charles chuckled. “This, coming from a pirate?”
Logan moved with an easy grace despite his height. His moves were measured, concise. He gripped

the steel bars with both hands. “Honor among thieves. Even pirates can keep their word. It is the English
who mask their deceit behind polite fronts and stab you with trickery. I could’ve gone into politics and
done exactly the same things. But I prefer piracy; it’s more open. Honest. But I refuse to justify myself to
you.”

“Indeed.” Charles smiled and crossed his arms across his chest. “That’s why I prefer the way of the

soldier, I simply do as I’m told and leave the worrisome politics to others.”

“Do not delude yourself into believing you’re off the hook, Lieutenant. You may like to believe

you’re simply doing your job but you made the choice to become a pawn in a dangerous game. And
therefore, you have left yourself open to be used when and how they see fit. Forgive me, if I don’t find
that type of life appealing in the least. It’s the very reason I chose to leave that life behind, my friend. Any
mistakes I make now are mine and I have no one to answer to, save for the good man upstairs.”

Charles lifted a hand to his chin and pondered Logan’s words. “You are very articulate. I wouldn’t

have guessed that.”

“You’re assuming I’ve been a pirate all my life.”
Both of Charles’s brows lifted in surprise. “You’ve had a formal education?”
“I was known by a different name then. It is a name that will forever remain hidden, locked away in

some box till the day I die. Better men have tried to charm it out of me, tougher men have tried to beat it
out of me. Trust me, Lieutenant, when I say this... You will never know it.”

The pirate’s monster hand struck out and seized Charles by the collar pulling him forward. The

suddenness took him off guard and he gasped.

“Now you’re going to tell me why the King went against his word and broke our agreement.” Logan

whispered down at him, hauling him closer to the metal bars.

Charles slid the dagger under his sleeve down into his hand and raised it to just under the giants

chin. “You’ll release me, De’haviland, or you’ll find your blood spilled all over this deck.”

Charles made sure to prick the hair-roughened skin to get his point across. A drop of blood oozed

and trickled down the leathered neck. Seconds passed and silence descended.

The man released him with a shove. Charles stumbled. Regaining his balance, he kept out of the

man’s reach, dagger in hand. “You are either very brave or stupid, De’haviland. You’re certainly dancing
on either side of that line. We do things my way here and you’ll do well to remember that.”

Charles straightened his collar and re-tucked his shirt inside his pants with a wary eye on the

Logan. “Your daughter is very beautiful.”

Logan stiffened.
He must have hit a nerve. Excellent. He had the upper hand now. His surprise at the man’s size had

given him pause but he’d moved beyond that now.

“My daughter should be well away from here by now, on a ship.”
Charles saw through the bluff for what it was. “Indeed, she is. That much I can tell you is true.”

Logan’s eyes appeared to study him and Charles laughed. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

The meaty hands tightened on the bars and the blue eyes grew so intense they would’ve burned a

hole through him. Charles smirked. “She is safe at the moment if that is what you’re hoping to hear.”

The visible relief was exactly what he’d been looking for. So the man loved his daughter. Too

much. And that was ultimately what would be his downfall. And of course, it would be Charles’s
enjoyment.

“She’s quite wayward, I take it. Headstrong, much like her father is, I suspect. Especially now, after

having met you for the first time. I see now the similarities between the two. Although, I will tell you this,
I had not known a daughter had been born of the union between you and the viscount’s wife until today.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. “Do I know you?”
Charles chuckled and crossed the area with slow, measured steps. Those blue eyes followed him

step for step. “I do believe I just said we’ve met for the first time.”

“And I didn’t catch your name?”
Charles’s grin smoothed into a full smile as he paused to face the man. “Call me Charles, or

Lieutenant. I will answer to either.”

A sinister hardness appeared in the pirate’s eyes. “No last name? Or too afraid to tell me.”
Charles laughed enjoying himself. “Ahhh, all will be revealed in due time, mon bon pirate ami.”
“Nous ne sommes pas d'ami.”
“No, we are not friends.” So, the pirate was as well educated as he’d thought. Charles crossed his

arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. “All good things come to those who wait, mon ami.”

Charles pushed off the wall and headed toward the hatch. He turned back. “Although, I will tell you

this, De’haviland. Your daughter is a wanted woman now. She took up arms against the King and has
stolen an English vessel.”

“What vessel?”
Charles grinned. “Why, the Serpent if you must know. Poor Blac has made a vow to me this day. He

will get his ship back and bring the girl back to me himself. I am looking forward to seeing how this plays
out, and your delightful daughter provided me with the perfect form of torture. I plan to keep you around
long enough to watch your own daughter hang.”

The animal-like roar followed Charles out of the hull and echoed through the cove.

Four

Two years later
1691

The Serpent’s Lady.
The two-masted Brigantine floated in the harbor as gentle swells of water lapped at her bow. Her

tall, dual masts rose into the dimming light of the sunset like slender-fingered bones, rising out of the clear
water.

Blac stepped away from the dock rail and breathed in the salt air. An entire year since he’d last

seen the beauty of both the ship and the girl.

Several times, he’d come close to capturing Angel, but again and again, she had escaped, sailing

away with a wave and kiss blown across the wind. He could still feel the sting of it as if she’d slapped
his face. Her taunts inspired his rage and passion. He’d never been more determined to have something.

And soon, he would.
His eyes traced every sleek line of the boat. The vessel’s figurehead, once a serpent, had now been

carved into a bare-breasted woman with billowing hair. Her body was wrapped in the coils of a sea
serpent. The woman very much resembled Angel, and he wondered who had carved it. A sudden need to
throttle the man overcame him and he gritted his teeth. Had she removed her clothes to pose for such a
thing?

He clasped and unclasped his fists.
Two men roamed the main deck, coiling ropes and securing rigging. A third man dangled from the

fore topmast yardarm as he secured the sails.

Four new bronzed cannons had been added to the main deck and a new heavily carved banister had

been added to the quarterdeck. The changes improved the Brigantine’s appearance. Though Blac hated to
admit it, she appeared well taken care of and clean.

He’d missed her. And her captain. He couldn’t wait to run his hands over her rails again, but he

would stay far away from her mistress.

The Hell's Angel, as Angel was now known, had become quite a name in the Caribbean. She

attacked every English vessel she crossed and every privateer flying under the English flag. He imagined
Angel was searching for her father still. Her fearsome reputation grew with every passing day. The
English captains had become afraid to set sail in the Caribbean for fear of running into her.

Blac wasn’t sure where the lieutenant had taken Logan, but, the lieutenant had kept his word. He

would not hang Logan until Blac managed to capture Angel. But Worthington was becoming impatient.
The question was why did the lieutenant want the pirate’s daughter? Why hold off the pirate’s trial and
hanging when that’s who he was after in the first place? Unless, he didn’t plan on going through with the
trial.

Suspicion kept Blac from overanalyzing the lieutenant’s motives – at least for now. His first goal

had always been to get Angel to her grandfather’s care as he’d promised Logan before his arrest.

Blood pulsed through his veins and he released his grip on the rail. Soon, my angel, I will have you

under my hands.

Blac was uncertain whether he meant the ship or the woman.
Two hours later, Blac followed four dark figures down the boardwalk toward the U-shaped city.
Over the years, Port Royal had made a name for itself as the wickedest city in the New World.

Lights flickered across the waters as the port awoke, ready to sink into its nightly ritual of debauchery.
Despite the fact that the city had been claimed an area of anti-piracy the year Logan was captured, it still
held its aura of decadence along the wharves.

Blac strode down the boardwalk, headed for the town’s tip. Fishermen hawked their wares, and a

drunken seaman bumped into his shoulder, before collapsing to the ground. Blac chuckled and helped the
man to his feet once more, keeping an eye on the gathered group across the wharves.

More than a hundred ships were docked in the harbor. Their tips stretched into the sky above, and

the hulls bobbed across the ocean’s surface, like dancers in the night.

The constant lapping of waves against the boardwalk and the whine of the wind were broken by the

sounds of crashing bottles and drunken laughter. Damp moisture made the fabric of his shirt stick to his
back, and sweat beaded across his brow from the humidity.

Blac blended in to the crowd of seamen, passing by the crates and barrels being loaded and

unloaded. He stopped beneath the balcony of the hastily built brothel, next to a two-storied red brick
structure. The sign read simply: The Cat and The Fiddle, established 1675. Two scantily-clad prostitutes
giggled and shouted out lewd invitations to the men below.

Blac shoved his wide-brimmed hat lower over his features and followed the foursome down High

Street. Dusk disappeared and the black cloak of sin settled over the town. Several of the locals closed up
shop and headed for home. Blac tipped his hat at the lady and gentlemen exiting Simon Benning’s pewter
shop and crossed the street.

The four heavily armed men joined up with a shorter, dark-cloaked figure and headed down an

alley headed toward Queen Street. They disappeared through a heavy, oak-arched doorway.

Blac entered The Black Dog, a rundown hovel. The group sat at the rear of the building. He took a

seat on the bench and table in the opposite corner, ducking his head to hide his features. The low murmur
of voices droned on and for several hours; the five companions continued to drink.

A buxom blonde ambled up to his table and perched one hip on its edge. “Anything else I can get

ye’ handsome?”

Blac shook his head and leaned forward to see around her. “Not tonight, Jezel.”
The bright red lips pursed to make a moue beneath the penciled in mole in the right corner of her

mouth. “Zhat ‘es too bad, mon ami, I’d hoped you would come to see me. I have missed you zees last
months.”

Blac reached up a hand to her knee and squeezed. “And I you, but I’ve work to do.”
“Perhaps I can be of help?”
Blac glanced up to her. “Perhaps you can.” He dropped his hand and crossed his arms across the

tabletop. “Do you see those five sailors in the corner?”

“Of course,” she said with wicked grin. “’Ze young one is right handsome and has been eyeing me

all evening.”

“Good.” Blac ordered another glass of rum. “Get his attention and find out what they’re up to.”
She nodded and moved to stand. His hand shot out and seized her leg again. “And Jezel...” She

raised a single blonde brow. “You will be rewarded.”

A slow smile spread across her features. “I’ve got plenty of gold, mon ami. Unless it’s you in my

bed this eve, don’t even bother.”

She walked away with a swing in her hips and, had the object of his current fascination not been

more than five feet away from him, he may have been more than interested. As it were, Jezel held no
appeal to him. Not after the way his blood had been set afire by one rebellious female pirate.

The tavern had long since cleared. Blac held back as the last occupant exited the building. He

slipped from the shadows and stole into the alley beside the establishment until he reached the rear door.
He knocked three times and seconds later, the door opened an inch.

Jezel’s voice came to him through the partial opening. “I ‘ave news. They plan to kidnap the

lieutenant commander tomorrow night. A girl...a prostitute, she works in the Red Garter. Her name is
Gretchen. She is supposed to drug his ‘ordship.”

Kidnap the commander? Charles’s superior officer? Did Angel plan to exchange him for her

father’s life?

Blac reached into his pocket and retrieved the small bag of coins. He handed them inside the door.

Jezel hesitated. “I take it you won’t be coming to me tonight?”

“Not this time, Jezel.”
A soft sigh sounded from the other side. “Aye, I wilz take the coin but you must promise to return to

me after this ‘es all over.”

Blac frowned. “I’m not sure I can promise anything, but I will try.”
Another sigh.
“All right zen, good luck with yer mission, Capi’tan.”
Blac strode down the alley onto Queen Street. He headed for the pier. Now that he knew Angel’s

plans, he had one of his own.

~*~

No one could duplicate what God had created, a temptress cast upon men from the sins of Eden.
Blac’s eyes took in the naked flesh a little too eagerly. He’d followed Angel back to the tiny inn on

High Street. It couldn’t house more than six rooms. She stayed on the second story, far left corner room.
He’d climbed the trellis without breaking his neck and stepped over the railing on the balcony to get a
better view.

The crickets chirped their melody in the night and masked the sound of his heavy feet on the

wrought-iron plates beneath him. Stars glimmered in brilliant profusion against the black blanket of night
and offered little light to reveal him.

He’d been lucky enough to catch her at her bath and unlucky enough to suffer the consequences of

watching her.

Firelight flickered off the walls and cast shadows of her lush curves across the walls as she stood

to her full height. Water sluiced over the sides of the tub to puddle onto the wooden planks. He
swallowed. Droplets trickled down her flat stomach and hips. Each bead of moisture slid against her
flesh and he imagined drying the moisture with his tongue.

Meager light from the fire gleamed against her skin. Long arms reached high to wring out her wet

hair, water droplets scattered, and a tempting line of the liquid coasted down so beautifully against the
sweet curve of her shoulder to her breast.

Heat engulfed every inch of his body. His attention could no longer focus on anything but the woman

on the other side of the windowpane. How had this one female tilted his entire being on its axis, and now
he sat here on this balcony staring at her like a lovesick fool? Blac couldn’t be sure if this opportunity
were a gift or curse.

Heaven or hell.
His breath fogged the glass as he leaned closer. A rush of adrenaline filled his blood. Anticipation

coursed a path through his veins. How could he not look forward to the outcome of this game they played?

The end neared and expectancy lingered in the air around him. His breath hushed, his heart pounded

inside his chest, and his palms moistened.

He had her finally, exactly where he wanted her. And for once, he wouldn’t rush in to claim the

prize. Instead, he would savor the victory.

She walked toward the window and dropped the towel she’d been holding. With only the glass

separating them, Blac traced her figure with a single digit.

A deep sense of satisfaction welled inside him. He’d won.
The prize would be one of the greatest he’d ever taken. A prize that was well worth the wait.
You’re mine. After all these years...heaven would be his in the arms of the Hell’s Angel.

~*~

Angel had never kidnapped a man before. Until tonight.

Exhilaration flowed through her veins and she couldn’t quite keep the grin from her face. She

peered around the corner and searched the alley. “All clear,” she mouthed to her men, and one by one,
they filtered past into the darkness.

Their plan was to kidnap the commander and trade him for her father. She didn’t know if it would

work, but it was worth a try. The prostitute had said the commander came every Friday evening to The
Red Garter to visit Gretchen. And this time, they would be there to greet him.

The group of them skulked through the shadows until they reached the last window on the building

to the left. She nodded, and Harry gave a soft birdcall. The window eased open and the brunette slipped
her head out. “Do I still git me gold?”

Angel grinned and held up a bag of Spanish doubloons. The coins jingled as she slipped the bag

back into her pocket.

The prostitute glanced over her shoulder. “Aye, well, he be snuffed out like a flame. C’mon up.”
Two of her newest crew members jostled each other. Bruno boxed their ears and the two stood at

attention. If they didn’t straighten up, they would all be caught and hung at Gallows Point. Harry had the
grace to blush.

Angel sighed. She must be mad for attempting a stunt like this.
Bruno stepped forward under the window and threaded his fingers together for her to slip her foot

into. Angel paused and held a hand up to his dark cheek. “Bruno, make me a promise, will you?”

He nodded, the light from an above window reflected off the dark, bald head. His chocolate brown

eyes narrowed. He shook his head, telling her with his eyes he didn’t want to hear it.

She frowned. “You have to promise me, whatever happens...” She bit her lip. “Get my father out of

that English prison. I don’t care about myself. Just keep him safe for me.”

He shook his head.
“Do it. It’s an order.” She dropped her hand.
Bruno frowned and dropped his gaze on a sigh. He nodded and then reformed his fingers so she

could climb up to the second story window.

She slipped her foot into his clasped hands and he lifted her. She grasped hold of the window ledge

and heaved herself up. Swinging one leg up, she pulled her body inside and flopped to the floor. So much
for grace.

Darkness encased the room. The only source of light poured from outside. It was too meager to do

her any good, creating shadows in every corner. Where was the commander? Where was Gretchen, and
why had she left before she’d taken her gold?

Tiny hairs prickled at the back of Angel’s neck and a chill raced along her spine. Harry sent a

birdcall up waiting for her response to let them know she was safe. She didn’t send it. For whatever
reason, something didn’t feel right.

Shadows danced along the walls and she studied each one. She waited with bated breath for

something to happen, some movement or sound to alert her to the sign of an intruder.

Awareness raced over her flesh. She grabbed the hilt of her sword and reached for her musket with

the other. Easing over into the dark corner out of the light, she moved along the wall. Watching the
shadows skip across the room, she felt the presence of someone watching her. She melted back into the
dark and held her breath.

Her heart pummeled her ribs and her palms grew moist.
The second birdcall drifted up from below.
A shuffling of movement sounded from the alleyway as her men prepared to come up. Then she saw

the commander lying in the middle of the ragged mattress in the opposite corner of the room asleep, and
she let out a deep sigh. She’d been searching for ghosts and ghouls where there were none.

Angel stepped forward to cross the room and bind the commander in ropes. A set of hands seized

her from the shadows, knocking the musket from her hand. Her stomach heaved. A hand clamped over her
mouth as an arm wrapped around her waist in a vise, dragging her against the large frame of a man.

She’d been duped.
She’d kill Gretchen for setting her up like this.
Her fingers clawed at the forearm, since her arms were pinned to her sides and movement was

limited. Damn. Her sword merely swung harmlessly back and forth as the odd position prevented her
from using it.

Was this where she would die?
A breath rushed across her ear. “Call them down, Angel.”
She relaxed. Her breath whooshed from her but her heart tripped in her chest. Blac. He’d come for

her. Somehow she’d known he would.

The hand eased the severe hold but didn’t move away. “I’m going to free your mouth, and I want

you to call to Bruno and let him know you’re safe. Understand?” The hand tightened once more. “My men
are scattered all over this room, the brothel, even in the streets. The four of you are outnumbered. It would
be a foolish mistake to resist. You’d hate to be the cause of their deaths, wouldn’t you?”

Would he really kill men he’d known for years? Could she really risk it? Bruno and her father’s

men were all she had left in life. She would never risk their lives.

Angel nodded. He released her mouth but not his hold around her waist. Instead the arm tightened,

and the length of him pressed against her backside, igniting a spark of heat. The strength of his body
scattered tingles along her skin. She tilted her head to the side to view him from the corner of her eye.
“You would kill the men you’ve known half your life, Captain Barclay?”

He stared down at her. “Yes, to prevent you from committing this foolish mistake. I would.” He

lowered his head to her shoulder and buried his face into her loosened hair. “I only do this for you, Angel.
And Logan.”

She stiffened at the mention of her father. “And yet, you were the one who came to arrest him.” She

frowned. “Do not whisper words of guilt and affection now.” She pulled from him, and he let her go.
Moving closer to the window, she let out a soft birdcall as her hand eased to her waistband, retrieving her
dagger.

Facing him, she found he’d followed close behind. They stood toe-to-toe. One of his large hands

reached up to caress her cheek. “Whatever happened that day or didn’t happen is over. We’re here now,
and I can’t let you go through with this foolish scheme.”

“You can’t stop me, Blac.”
“I already have, Miss De’haviland.”
“For now,” she agreed. “Always expect the unexpected, remember?”
She eased the tip of her dagger between the delicate skin of his thigh and testicle. Now she had his

attention.

He stiffened. “Oh, you are clever.”
“I learned from the best.” With one twitch of her wrist she got her point across.
Moonlight revealed the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. She increased the pressure between his

legs just to reinforce her determination. Could she really bluff her way out of this? Her father’s life
depended on it and now so did her own.

“You’re a wanted woman at this point, Angel. If you kill me, you’ll be a dead one. There will be no

place you can hide safely.”

“Oh really?”
“We both know how much the Queen adores me. The bounty on your head will be so high you won’t

even be able to trust your friends.”

“I’ve already learned that lesson quite well. And I should thank you for that, Barclay. You taught me

well in all my lessons in life.”

He gritted his teeth.
“Besides, the damage is already done. We both know that. We’ve made our choices, and

unfortunately, this time they don’t coincide.” She lifted the dagger to his throat. “I am no longer a naïve
child. I’ve grown up in more ways than one.”

“So it seems.” He lifted his chin. “There are consequences to our every action, Angel. Are you

willing to face those consequences?”

Uncertainty made her hesitate. “I’ll do what I must.”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Tell me, how do you think your father would feel

about this? Do you really believe he would condone your actions these last two years?”

His question stunned her, but she no more than blinked before he seized her wrist and propelled her

against the wall. Angel gasped. Blac’s grip tightened until she had no choice but to release the dagger. It
clanged against the bare wood floor.

Warmth from him radiated through her clothes as he pressed against her. He kissed her mouth, hard

and demanding. “Welcome to hell, Angel. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Angel blinked then gasped. Her jaw clamped in anger.
A lantern burned to life and three men emerged from the corners of the room. The commander lay on

the bed, trussed like a stuffed sausage with bound hands and feet. A white cotton gag covered his mouth.
Blood trickled down from a cut above his temple. He’d been knocked out cold.

Her eyes widened and someone shoved a gag into her opened mouth. Her hands were bound, and

then Blac tossed her over one shoulder like a sack of grain.

“Your first mistake was the day you stole my ship, the Serpent, and renamed it the Serpent's Lady.”

His tone indicated he didn’t like her choice of a name. She would have grinned if she hadn’t been gagged.
“Your second mistake was thinking you actually stood a chance against me. The student hasn’t, as yet,
become the master. Now it’s time for you to become acquainted with my new ship... The Serpent’s
Revenge.”

Five

The air crackled with energy. Grey clouds mixed and blended in a slow merging of power. A

misleading stirring of wind brushed Angel’s face. Despite the clear skies a storm brewed. The
atmosphere held intensity and a deceiving tranquility that would soon burst into a torrent of chaos.

And I’ll be ready for it.
A half hour had passed while her men had been rounded up by Blac’s crew. She’d been ushered

downstairs to the back alleyway and both hands were tied to a wrought iron rail. The slight movement of
air did little to alleviate the soured-back-alley-smell, and her stomach churned with nausea.

A wave of anger clenched her teeth. She couldn’t believe Blac had just left her here. And tied to the

rail like a common criminal.

Angel shifted on her feet and flexed the muscles in her aching shoulders. Her arms were tied in front

of her to allow a little comfort, but the tether allowed her very little moving room. She wiggled and
writhed, attempting to loosen the hemp enough to free her hands, but to no avail. Blac had simply tied
them too tight.

Why did he have to be so meticulous?
The tight alley was lined with A-framed brick buildings rising on either side of her like giant

decorated bird houses. Bright, vivid shutters fronted the buildings with carnival colors. Tiny flower
boxes crammed with pink, yellow, and orange blossoms perched on the bottom of each window.

This was the better part of Port Royal, although the lane was still filled with debris and trash. The

stench of waste and mold assaulted her.

The red door swung open behind her and Blac appeared with four of his crewmen. “Let’s go.” He

cut the tether from the rail and slipped his dagger back into the sheath at his waistband.

“Go where?” she asked but he didn’t answer.
Wagon wheels rumbled down the alley and stopped before them. One of his men sat in the driver’s

seat, idly toying with the leather reins. He barely glanced at Angel as Blac lifted her into the seat.

Where were they going and where were her men?
Wind blew the hair off her shoulders and tossed it behind her, the first real sign of the storm they’d

seen all day. Blac looked up to the sky and frowned. He turned away to order the rest of his men to meet
them back at the ship. The docks were a good five blocks away.

The commander lay in the back of the wagon, still unconscious beneath the bed coverlet. His hands

were bound and his mouth gagged. If Blac continued down this route, he would become a pirate like
Angel and her father. Surely, he didn’t plan to go through with this.

She didn’t have time to worry about what Blac would or wouldn’t do. Whatever his intentions, she

didn’t trust him. He’d lost that privilege when he’d betrayed her family.

Angel balanced on the edge of the seat and smiled sweetly at the man beside her. Thunder cracked

above them and the crewman glanced up at the roiling sky. She swung her legs over in a solid kick to his
chest and forced him off the opposite side. The man landed in the dirt below with a thud. She caught the
reins and slapped them down, the wagon jerking forward at a break neck pace.

Someone shouted her name behind her and she turned. Blac chased her on foot. As large as his body

was, his speed impressed her.

Angel wheeled around the corner onto the main road and Blac followed. Her cloak billowed out

behind her as the contraption picked up speed. She laughed but she wasn’t out of the woods yet. She
unclasped her cloak and tossed it behind her, smacking Blac squarely in the face. A giggle escaped her.
He stopped, threw the garment down, and stared after her with a look that should’ve burned her to a
cinder.

Facing forward, she headed down Queen Street and turned onto a side street, losing sight of him.

The turn sent the wagon careening on two wheels and the commander’s body rolled out of the back. She
cringed. Angel held fast until the wagon righted itself, and she prayed the poor man hadn’t been injured.

She made another turn onto High Street, and from the corner of her eye, she spotted Blac on a horse

a little ways behind her. Mounted, he would be able to catch her quickly.

Angel sat forward and slapped the reins harder. She had to get more distance between them. Her

heart picked up speed along with the clatter of the hooves on the ground. Adrenaline rushed through her
veins and a thrill shimmied through her as the silly realization that for once, Blac was chasing her. She
giggled at the irony.

Thunder crashed and rumbled the ground beneath the wagon. Within a matter of minutes, the storm

turned into a full-force gale. The sheer power of the wind tore tears from her eyes and blasted the heavy
mass of her hair over one shoulder.

Angel stood and balanced her feet with the sway of the wagon floor. Her bound hands made her

hesitate, but she refused to give up so easily. Perhaps I can jump to the horse and un-harness him. She’d
have a better chance of getting away on a horse than in this wagon.

But with her hands tied it would make the jump more difficult. Could she make it? She bit her lip.
All right, Angel, take a deep breath and jump!

~*~

Blac’s heart slammed against his ribs and stuck there. The damn fool woman was going to jump.

Leaning low over the horse’s neck, he urged it faster. He came abreast of the wagon, grabbed hold, and
heaved himself over the side.

As he struggled to climb inside, his sword slid from the scabbard and skimmed across the planks

toward the front of the wagon. Angel glanced back and reached over the seat for his sword.

He lumbered to his feet unsteadily as the cart weaved heavily to the left. He dove for her hand,

trusting that she wouldn’t stick him. Surely not. They’d known each other far too long.

Clasping the sword just under her hand, she held fast and wouldn’t let go. They struggled, each

straining to wrench the sword from the other.

“Don’t be a little fool, Angel. Give me the sword.”
“No,” she screamed over the fury of the storm. “I won’t be taken prisoner.”
With no one controlling the horses, they raced hell-bent down the cobbled lane. The reins had long

since fallen over the side of the wagon, and dangled uselessly. The clatter of hooves on stone mirrored the
thunder of the storm.

Wind hurtled objects like musket balls. They pinged against the side of the buildings and the wagon.

Something flew past Blac’s head and he ducked. “Angel, cease!” he tried to yell over the howl of the
wind. With the storm getting increasingly more dangerous, they had to get inside, and quickly.

The wagon hit a bump in the road, launched them into the air, and they landed hard with a grunt.

Blac collapsed against the planks. He gripped the slats and held tight, his legs sliding to and fro. Angel
held firm to the back of the seat. She tried to stand once again while holding the sword but lost her
balance, falling with her face between his legs. The situation would have made him chuckle had she not
suddenly begun to slide headlong off the back of the wagon. She dropped the weapon to reach for some
kind of handhold. His legs clamped hard on her and one hand shot out to secure an ankle. She screamed in
fear and his heart leaped in response.

Her upper body hung off the edge of the wagon. Her arms flailed uselessly. “Blac!”
“I’ve got you,” he said, even while his hand around her ankle slipped. She screamed again and his

legs clasped her harder. “I’m not letting you go, Angel. Just hang on!”

He pulled and released quickly enough to grab the fabric of her trousers, and then repeated until

he’d scooted her completely back into the wagon. She fastened her hands to his legs and crawled up his
body into his arms with a sigh of relief in his ear.

For one second, he closed his eyes. That had been too close. He would have never forgiven himself

had something happened to Logan’s daughter, but he didn’t want to examine too closely what he’d felt.

Grey clouds released and rain pelted them like tiny needle pricks. The entire sky grew black and the

downpour came in sheets, obliterating any visibility. He squinted against the onslaught but they had to get
out of this weather, and soon.

Wind ripped a palm tree from its perch and toppled it directly across the lane. His heart stammered

to a stop. They would crash right into it. Blac glanced past Angel’s head to the felled palm in the road.

She must’ve noticed his hesitation, for she too turned to look ahead of them. Angel gasped and

screamed. The horses barreled toward it, leaving them little time to react. Blac let go of the side and
covered her with his body just before impact.

The horses swerved to the right to avoid the tree, but the wagon careened to the left. Shards of

wood exploded, and the collision hurtled both Blac and Angel into the air.

The force broke his hold on Angel and he crashed into several barrels of liquid, which burst upon

contact. He rolled over and cracked his head against the side of a brick building. His vision swam in and
out. Blac raised his hands to his head and closed his eyes. The scent of strong rum drifted to him. What a
waste of good liquor.

Soaked, sore, and irritated as hell, he struggled to his feet. His eyes swept the area for Angel’s

blonde head, but he couldn’t find her. He frowned. Where was she?

His heart tripped. Was she hurt ? “Angel!” he shouted. He crossed to the cart wreckage and

rummaged through the pieces of wood. Rain impaired his vision and he couldn’t see a damn thing. Where
was she? He shouted her name again, and the wind tore it from his mouth.

Fear slithered down his spine. Was she hurt? Dead?
He frantically searched for her; his heart thundered inside his chest. What the damned impulsive

woman needed, once he found her, was a damn good paddling, which Logan should have done years ago.

A moan sounded and he strode toward it.
Heaving a large piece of the wagon siding aside, he found her. Relief exploded from him in a

whoosh. The wind died down to a soft whine. Her eyes were closed, and raindrops trickled across her
smooth skin. She was beautiful. He kneeled next her. Lifting her, he whispered, “Angel. Wake up,
sweetheart. Are you all right?”

Past images of Angel flashed through his mind and he realized how much he’d missed her smile.

Angel and Logan had both become such a large part of his life over the years that he wasn’t certain what
he would do if he lost them both. “Are you injured?” he whispered.

Before he had her hauled to her feet, the tip of his own sword pricked him just beneath his chin. Her

reflexes had improved much over the last two years. “You should be advised, Captain Barclay, I am no
longer a child.”

Blac tilted his chin higher at the deliberate point she managed to include with her words. He’d yet

to drop his hands. “I expected no less, Angel. You were far from childhood the last time we met, if I
remember correctly.”

“Yes I was, but you don’t have to be a child to be naïve, and for that I should thank you. It was

obviously a lesson I needed to learn, and learn it I did.”

He shook his head. “You speak of things you know little about.”
“Do not think for a second that I will listen to your excuses now.” The tip of the sword drew blood,

which trickled down his neck. “My only hope is that my father never learns of your duplicity. But do not
ever think that I will forget.”

He chuckled and peered down his nose at her, defying the pressure of the sword. “I find that ironic,

Angel. You assume you know your father so much when in fact, you know so little. This was your father’s
idea.”

Her eyes rounded and then narrowed. “Liar!”
“Am I?”
She expelled a breath, the sound harsh in the silence of the rain. “I don’t believe you. You lie to get

your way.” The downpour bathed them and dripped from her chin, and a low rattle of thunder
accompanied her words.

“If only that were the case.”
He stared her down. Rain flushed the cut above her eye, the blood running red down the side of her

temple. Minutes passed with no movement or sound before her eyes dropped to his mouth. “There was
once a time when I craved even a simple word from you. But now, my only wish is to wash myself of
your touch.”

Surprise widened his gaze. “I am so revolting to you now?”
“Yes,” she hissed. But her eyes filled with tears, contradicting her words.
“And here I had hope we could pick up right where we left off.” He lifted the corner of his lip to

belie his words.

“And if I remember correctly, I warned you to remove your hands from me,” she said.
A single brow arched over his eye. He did not remove his hands. Instead, he squeezed tighter.

“Before you issue threats, madam, you should make damn certain you are able to back them up.” One of
his hands seized the sword hilt and dragged it away from his neck to the left. “I am neither a young lad,
nor a weak old pirate. You will learn soon enough that it takes more than the tip of your sword to sway
me.”

She leapt backward and lifted the sword in a defensive stance once again. But he kept coming. Her

green-blue eyes widened just enough to reveal her fear. “Yes, be afraid, little one. When you wake the
Serpent, you can expect to be greeted by his fangs.”

She lifted her chin. “I am not afraid of you.”
“You will be.”
She swung at his mid-section and he leapt backward. He rolled then sprang to his feet directly

before her so quickly, she gasped. His vise-like hands clasped the sword, yanked it from her, and tossed
it to the ground in a single move. The weapon clattered to the cobblestones and slid under the broken
debris of the wagon.

He reached for her, but she ducked at the last minute and ran down the street. He chased her, her

speed no match for his longer stride. One of his hands clasped a handful of her hair and he yanked her
back until she fell into him. She came around with a hard right to his jaw. He shook his head, surprised at
her strength. Releasing her hair, his arms apprehended her lithe body. She couldn’t move her upper body
at all but she kicked his shins, managing to get several solid hits in. He winced. But he didn’t let her go.

“Now you can go with me quietly, Angel. Or we can do it your way, fighting the entire way.” He

sighed when she did not cease her struggle. “Either way, I will win,” he whispered into her ear.

She screamed in frustration and gritted her teeth at him. “I hate you, you back-stabbing bastard!”
The slightest stab of pain rippled through him, but he ignored it. His impulsive package would learn

soon enough that he refused to play her games any longer. He’s chased her for two years and now it was
time to pay the piper. Angel may have been able to get away with stealing from the English, but she would
pay dearly for commandeering his ship.

Blac set his jaw, released her long enough to swoop down and lift her onto a shoulder. “So be it.

The hard way it is.” His arms clamped down on her kicking feet and her hands found a solid purchase in
his kidneys. A grunt escaped him.

He carried her all the way to the docks and dropped her unceremoniously into the dinghy, hopping

in behind her. She hadn’t even managed to sit up before he placed a large booted foot over her back and
pushed her down, face first. She cursed.

His crew arrived with her four companions and the commander. “Leave the crew and stow the good

commander in the hold, Mr. Santiago,” he said to Rigo. “I have a message to be delivered to the rest of
Angel’s crew.”

~*~

The sound of church bells seemed almost sacrilegious as they boarded the refitted three-masted

Brig. Eighty feet long and at least twenty-four feet wide, she was long and narrow, with a draught of
thirteen feet. A beauty, to say the least.

Built not only for speed, but the twenty eight-pounders meant if it was caught broadside, it would

stand a better chance than any other small-classed ship.

Angel silently smirked at the ship’s name, “Serpent’s Revenge.” She’d really irked him when she’d

renamed his ship, the Serpent’s Lady. Good, she hoped he’d choked on it. The swine.

Blac ordered her deposited in the captain’s cabin and ordered it to stay locked. The room was

small by any standards. It was cramped but neat. There were few furnishings. She moved across the left
corner of the room and sat upon the double bunk bed laden with multiple brightly colored pillows from
the Indies. She’d always believed she could tell a lot about people by their personal rooms. Her eyes
gazed at her surroundings to see exactly what it said about one Blac Barclay.

At the foot of the bunk, lay a heavy trunk, and she waltzed over to test the lock. It was, of course,

locked. Damned paranoid man. She whipped around and opened the armoire. Everything was arranged
by color and there weren’t many colors to choose from: Black, white, grey and browns.

Blac isn’t one for variety. But he definitely has a knack for organization.
She banged shut the doors and sat on the edge of the ornate claw-footed table surrounded by six

matching chairs in the middle of the floor. The room didn’t tell her much about the man, other than he
preferred order and cleanliness. The only other decorations, save for the pillows, were the heavy damask
velvet curtains at the windows and the bright colored Persian rug on the floor.

If this room said anything about him, it said he was bland and boring. Or perhaps he tried to

suppress a passionate nature with order. Excitement chased her spine every time he neared, so how could
he be bland or boring?

She strode to the far end of the cabin and sat in one of chairs. Maps and charts littered the end of the

table in neat little stacks. Angel fingered the stiff parchment. Blac had been tracking her for months now.
Each red mark indicated where she’d been seen last. She removed the quill and closed the lid of the ink
jar. She found it interesting to think he’d been so doggedly pursuing her all this time. Was it simply guilt?
Or could there possibly be a more interesting reason why he was so intent on catching her?

Her heart twittered in her chest, and she found the idea exhilarating. Half her life she’d followed

this man with love struck eyes. Everyone in the world had known of her infatuation except the man
himself. He’d been clueless. There had been a time when she would have done anything just to get an
ounce of attention from him, and now...those days were over. She’d grown up. He’d forced her to see life
as it really was. She and Blac would never have a future. He’d made sure of that the day he’d betrayed
her and her father.

Her gaze rose to the gallery of windows. The sun had just crept over the last hurdle and was well

on its way toward its zenith. She jolted when the ship first moved. They were underway. Where were they
going?

The door swung open and Blac stood there, a triumphant grin on his handsome face.
She gritted her teeth. His arrogance repelled her while at the same time, her childish fantasies

resurfaced, making her want to throw herself into his arms.

“My crew will follow,” she said, determined to conceal her attraction to him.
“I’m counting on it.” He shut the door and crossed the room to the mahogany table secured to the

floor. “So I would make myself comfortable for now and enjoy the...ride.”

Her eyes widened at the remembrance of those words. His dark gaze focused on her, so he

remembered those very same words that day so long ago. She pursed her lips and turned away. “Words
spoken by a girl,” she murmured. “A naïve girl who didn’t understand their meaning.”

“And do you know their meaning now?” His whisper came from directly behind her.
She stiffened. Did he know the effect he still had on her? She had to pretend she didn’t feel the

shock at his nearness, or the heat. Her heart thundered in rhythm to the waves crashing against the hull of
the ship. Why, after his betrayal did he still have this kind of power over her?

She peered at him over her shoulder. “I know their meaning.” She closed her eyes. And never had

those words been truer than now. Never had she wanted that ride he spoke of, more than at this moment.

She’d missed him. More than she cared to admit. Had he missed her at all? She wouldn’t ask. He

would know just how much she’d come to care for him over the years. When she had imagined her future,
it had always been with Blac. And now...he was here, but he wasn’t at her side as she’d hoped he would
be.

She ducked her head, took a deep breath, and then turned to face him. “I had a little girl’s fantasy,

and it’s over,” she lied.

His chin lifted. A bruised ego? Oh, she hoped so. Those grey eyes like hammered metal, pinned her

to the spot and she imagined he could see into her soul. A shiver raced through her. He knew she was
fibbing. Her heart accelerated; her palms moistened.

“Over it?” He stepped forward, so close their breaths mingled. “Is that so?”
She turned away from him to answer. “Yes.” If only that were true.
His hands gripped her arm and turned her to face him again. “Two years ago, I would have

appreciated those words and been glad to hear them.”

“And now?”
He didn’t blink. He didn’t give any warning. His mouth swooped down and captured hers. Despite

the initial shock, her body responded as she’d known it would. She opened easily and, her arms wrapped
around his neck to bring him closer.

Oh, why had it ended this way? Why couldn’t he have loved her when she had wanted him to?
Her senses reeled and her body strained against his. She’d wanted this man for so long Her breasts

flattened against his chest and both hands buried themselves in his nape. The silky strands threaded
through her fingers as the warmth of his embrace enveloped her.

He groaned. The sound sent shivers down her spine. A soft moan escaped, and as if he knew what

she secretly wanted he answered in kind with both hands gripping her hips as he ground his hardness into
her belly.

Ecstasy washed over her, but he surprised her by setting her away from him. Stunned, she stood

numb. The slightest stir of pain whirled through her at his rejection. It reminded her of the times she
sought his attention as a girl and the rejection she felt when he’d ignored her.

Was she really so repulsive to him?
His breaths came in rapid succession. “Actions speak louder than words, Angel. For someone so

unaffected, yours are coming through loud and clear.”

She gasped and pushed against his chest. “How dare you!”
His hands clutched her wrists and brought her closer. Nose to nose now. “You should thank me, my

angel. I am granting you your fondest wish. Soon you will see your father-” He let her go roughly and she
stumbled backward. Her eyes widened at his words. He strode to the door, opened it, and turned to her.
“Soon, you will share the same dank English cell as he does. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Six

Low tide ebbed out of the harbor and gentle swells lapped against the hull. Mid-morning sunshine

rained heat across the deck while a skeleton crew worked on repairs and cleaning the hull. Max O’Rielly
stepped over the main-top-sail lying across the deck while the boatswain stitched her up. The carpenter
worked diligently on plugging holes and smearing oakum between the cracks of the ship to keep it tight.

As the sailing master, Max oversaw the maintenance of the Serpent’s Lady. The steady lap of the

waves lulled him, the heart-beat of the ocean, a lure to a seaman. Sailing had been his lifeline since he
was a child working on his father’s fishing boat. One was either born a seaman or a land lubber. A man
couldn’t be both.

The salty breeze whistled through the rigging, and the steady clang of the metal on wood sang its

own song. The call of the sea to a man was as irresistible as the touch of a woman. Without it, he’d starve
and die a slow death.

A thunder of boots on the boardwalk drew his attention as the men who’d gone with Angel pounded

down the wharves. His heart stalled. Where was she?

Unease prickled along the back of his neck and slithered down his spine. He’d been in Logan’s

employ since the day he’d caught De’Haviland hiding out on his father’s fishing vessel. They’d become
fast friends. The day Logan had decided to commandeer his first vessel and go to sea. Max hadn’t
hesitated to go with him. Leaving England had been the best thing he’d ever decided to do.

And when Logan had kidnapped Lady Elizabeth, Max had known he would never see the shores of

his homeland again. But Max had adored Elizabeth and was content Logan had found some happiness with
her. The day Angel was born, Max had become a father right alongside his best friend. She may not be his
real daughter, but she’d wrapped him around her little finger just as if she were.

He’d made a promise to keep Angel safe. As had most of Logan’s crew. Many of them had been

together for twenty years or more. Once a man joined the ranks, he rarely found reason to leave. Logan
was a fair captain and a good man. A man couldn’t ask for a better life. Many of the original crew had
been captured or had died that day the lieutenant had captured Logan. The few who were left had taken up
with Angel, determined to get their captain back.

But now Angel was nowhere to be seen.
Bruno and four others raced up the plank, skidding to a halt before Max. The mute tapped Robert on

the top of his head, and Robert gushed out with the night’s adventure so fast Max had difficulty catching
up. He listened carefully. “So Barclay captured Angel?”

Bruno paced the planks before them. His black gaze rested on Max briefly before returning to sea

once more. His agitation showed clearly in the deep lines of his brow. For a man who couldn’t speak, he
managed to get his point across perfectly.

Robert nodded. “Aye, last night. We got caught trying to kidnap the commander. He took Cap’n

Angel on board the Revenge this morning, tied us up to the docks, and left at high tide. Bruno freed us
with sheer strength, loosening the ropes enough that I could slide out.”

“Aye, he be a bit fond of the Cap’n’s bonny lass.”
Max rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. If Angel were captured, that left Bruno as next in

line to captain the ship. But the man couldn’t speak and by default, that left Max in charge. He honestly
didn’t want it, but what the hell was he supposed to do now?

Bruno stopped and urged Robert to continue with a wave of his impatient hand. “Barclay sent a

message.”

Max nodded for the man to continue.
“He said we’re to send this ransom note to the lieutenant and wait on the response. He plans to get

Cap’n Logan out and he wants us to find out whatever information we can find on his whereabouts, and

return to his plantation, sir.”

Max perused the ransom note. It said simply: I’ve got what you want. We make the exchange in six

weeks.

This could be a trap. Max contemplated the information but he really had no choice in the matter.

The ship needed a captain, whether it was Logan or his daughter. What she lacked in experience, she
more than made up for in courage. And that held a lot of weight on a ship. Her determination to free her
father bespoke her bravery, far more so than her acts on or off a ship.

He peered at Bruno. “Yer the Cap’n, old man. Do we trust him?”
Bruno stopped pacing and nodded. Then he hit a single fist into his palm.
“Aye, tha’ means if he hurts Miss Angel, he be a dead matey.” Max nodded and looked at one of the

sailors behind him. “Find out if Lieutenant Worthington is in the port and if not, when he’s due to return. I
want every man out searching for information. Load the supplies. I want this bilge rat ready to set sail at a
moment’s notice.”He would have to gather up the rest of the crewmembers who were off ship and
establish temporary new ranks until the captain’s return. “We’re on a reconnaissance mission, me
maties.”

~*~

Hours passed. Angel read a book she’d grabbed from the bookshelf behind the table. She marked

her page and placed the volume down. Boredom manifested until she thought she’d go mad.

Angel stood and made her way to the door. She tested the latch and miraculously it opened.
Blac hadn’t locked the door? She sighed. Why hadn’t she thought of testing it sooner?
The door swung open, banged on the wall, and the salty wind hit her. She breathed it in and relished

this little freedom. Activity ran rampant on the decks of the Serpent’s Revenge. Several crewmen scurried
up the shrouds, securing the sails. Others coiled ropes, while many others lounged about leisurely as the
day had begun to settle into night.

The pair of seamen playing dice a few feet away glanced up but made no move to stop her. Curious,

she made her way to the quarterdeck. Why hadn’t anyone tried to stop her yet?

Blac stood at the helm, and yearning struck her like a physical blow. She’d missed him.
Wind tossed his black hair away from his face as the fading sunlight danced across his skin. He

intrigued her like no other man ever had, and even after his horrid betrayal, her pulse still leapt to life
whenever he neared.

Blac’s gaze fell to her as she ascended to the quarterdeck. “I wondered when you might venture on

deck.”

She frowned. “You didn’t lock the hatch?”
“There was no need.” He chuckled. “It isn’t as if you can go anywhere, Angel. I’m not worried

about your little escape attempts out here.”

He was right. She would be a fool to try to escape now. Moving to the rail behind him, she sucked

in a deep breath. Azure seas stretched in an endless swathe of living material, and patches of dusky
clouds dotted the skies. She missed the Serpent’s Lady. Nostalgia engulfed her. The Serpent’s Lady had
become home during her time as captain, more so perhaps than her father’s island. Of course, the island
would never feel like home again without her father there. But for once, she’d been completely free. And
she understood why so many men had a calling for the sea.

She leaned against the banister and drank in the sight of the infinite expanse of blue. The wind

whipped her hair in front of her face and she brushed it away. “What did you do with the commander?”
she asked.

“He’s in the hold. I had planned to let him out when we got out to sea, but the bastard spouted off

more obscenities than I could tolerate.” He shrugged. “So he’ll remain in the hold until he can learn to be
civil.”

“Why did you do this?”
“My reasons are my own.”
She stiffened. “You won’t be able to keep me here long, Blac.” Facing him, she bit out, “I will

manage to escape. Somehow.”

A single black brow rose over those stormy eyes. “You are very confident, madam.”
“Very determined.”
His expression was intense, his gaze searching and direct. The sun had bronzed his skin to a golden

hue and it clashed brilliantly with the grey-metal colored eyes. He truly was a beautiful man with an
incredibly striking profile. Her gaze traced the hard, chiseled planes.

“You don’t have to fight me at every turn, Angel.”
Why must his tone sound pleading now, when she’d rather face his wrath? But instead, he seemed to

ask her and the fight drained from her.

“What would you have me do, Barclay?” Angel tossed up her hands in defeat. “Sit back and let you

take me to an English prison where both my father and I can be hung?”

His jaw tensed. “I am not a monster.” He frowned and studied her. “Do you really believe that I

would take you to an English prison?”

“You said you would,” she pointed out.
He glanced away as if he regretted the words. “I was angry.”
She moved around the wheel to stand directly before him, compelled by the look in his eyes. Was

that guilt? “Then what am I doing here, Barclay? Why have you taken me prisoner?”

He sighed. “I guess it’s truth time. I’ve known this day would come, I just didn’t expect it to come

so soon. I owe you an explanation you should’ve had two years ago and one you probably would have
already had if I’d been able to catch you before now.”

Angel frowned. What explanation? “What are you talking about?”
Blac handed the wheel over to Rigo and grabbed hold of Angel’s arm to lead her down to the main

deck. “Let’s go to my cabin.”

When they entered, he shut the hatch behind them with a soft click. She moved to the bunk and sat on

the edge. He grabbed a chair and dragged it closer to her. Both of his hands streaked through his tousled
hair as he plopped down next to her. His sigh sounded much too weary. “Angel” he started and then
snapped his mouth shut. “Your father came to me about six months before his capture. He had everything
planned out.”

She straightened her spine. “What do you mean?”
He clasped both of her hands. “I didn’t want this, know that. As it were, I couldn’t argue with

Logan. He’d made up his mind already.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion but she didn’t say anything, waiting for him to explain.
He let go of her hands and busied himself with straightening items on the table. By the time he

finished everything was aligned perfectly. She would have giggled at his incessant need for order but his
expression didn’t bode well. He seemed to struggle to find the words.

“Logan wanted a fresh start for you. He loved you more than life, and his every decision had been

about you,” he whispered. “I was to return to England and negotiate his surrender. It took me three years
to sort out the political mess. Your father would turn himself in under the condition that you would be
delivered to your mother’s family, and re-introduced to society, inheriting your mother’s dowry.”

Angel covered her mouth, smothering a gasp. “But why?”
Her mind whirled. Fragments of her past conversations with her father popped in her mind.

“Wouldn’t you like to visit England?”“How would you like to meet your grandfather?”

She’d always assumed he wasn’t serious. But now...piecing together the puzzle years later, she

realized that her father had been preparing her for the coming change in her life.

Blac shrugged. “I guess he was tired of running, and somehow he knew he could never give you the

kind of life you deserved.”

“How could Papa believe my life had been anything but perfect when I’ve never expressed

otherwise? My mother loved life on our little island and she grew up in England, glad to be rid of such a
life. Why would I even desire to return, knowing how much she hated it?”

“He wanted you to marry into a good family, and he left it up to me to make it happen. He wrote up

the appropriate papers giving me guardianship, and sent me on my way. When I returned to the isle, I had
everything worked out. The King had agreed to all his terms. I gave up the location of the island, and it
was agreed that I would have a month to get all the affairs in order before the British made their
appearance.”

He shook his head and paced several steps away from her. “You were supposed to be convinced to

visit your mother’s home in England and on a ship before the red coats even touched the beach.” His fists
clenched at his sides. “That was the agreement. Worthington broke it, and this is the result.”

A sick feeling settled in her stomach. Blac hadn’t really betrayed her. He’d stayed loyal to her

father, and she’d been horrible to him these last two years. He’d only done what he believed was right.
“And once I got to England and learned of his arrest?”

“Then I was allowed to tell you the truth.”
An apology wouldn’t leave her lips though. “So I was supposed to just idly sit back and accept that

you both planned my whole life out for me, without my consent?” Angel leapt to her feet. “I never got a
choice. Both of you were just going to assume you knew what was best for me? And you let him?”

He may not have betrayed her father but he’d certainly had no qualms about handing her over to

another man to marry. After all, it would probably be a relief to be rid of her. He would no longer have to
worry about the little girl with love-struck eyes following him around. A sharp ache pierced her heart as
she crossed her arms as if to hide the pain from him.

“What was I supposed to do, Angel?” He lifted both hands in defeat. “I owed the man my life. I

couldn’t argue with him about his own daughter.”

“But you had no qualms about planning my own father’s death without even warning me what was

to come.”

“He was to be tried fairly.”
“In a British court!” she shouted, pushing him with a hand to his chest. “And what, pray tell, do you

think the outcome of that trial would be, Blac?” A single digit pointed into his chest. “For someone so
brilliant, you certainly are stupid. What exactly do you think the punishment is for piracy?”She tapped his
chest with her finger once more. “That’s right, genius. It’s death.”

“Angel, you can’t deny that your father was a pirate.”
Her mouth snapped closed but she continued to glare at him. “Just because he owed no allegiance to

a King? That makes him an outlaw?”

“Yes. It does.”
She whipped around, giving him her back. The truth didn’t alleviate the sting, nor did it make it any

easier to swallow.

“Do not think for a single moment that you are the only one who misses him. Besides, I couldn’t talk

him out of it.” He clasped her hand and urged her to face him. “But I could make sure his last wishes were
heeded, and that included marrying you into a good family. I’m a man of my word, Angel.”

She stalked away from him. “What if I don’t want to marry?”
“All women want to marry.”
Angel picked up the book she’d been reading earlier off the table and hurled it at his thick head.

“You imbecile! I cannot believe you just said that.”She glanced around to throw something else at him but
he rushed to her, gripping both her arms.

“I will tolerate your temper only once, Angel. Once.”
“Do not dictate to me. You are not my father!”
He let go of her suddenly and she stumbled back. Rounding the corner of the desk, he opened the

drawer and pulled out a leaflet of papers.

“No?” He tossed them across the desk to her. “But I am your legal guardian. The moment the British

took your father prisoner, the order went into effect.”

Blac moved across the threshold and seized both of her arms before she could reply. He pulled her

so close she could feel the wisp of his breath fan across her forehead. He gave her a single, quick, soul-
shattering kiss. “Welcome to the family, Angel.”

Seven

Movement had long since died down on the deck, replaced by the velvet cloak of darkness. The

winds had ceased to mere breezes as stars dotted a cloudless sky. Exhausted, Blac gave the helm to Rigo
and headed for his quarters. Angel would be there, asleep. He’d grab a blanket and pass out on the floor.
She would never even know he’d been there.

The latch clicked softly as he opened the door and peered in. A single lamp was lit on its lowest

setting on the table. The remains of her half-eaten meal remained there.

A veritable goddess rose from the mass of coverlets in his bed. Wearing one of his white shirts

with the ties in the neck undone, exposing entirely too much flesh, she rose to her knees. “I had wondered
when you would come back.”

Her red-rimmed eyes pleaded with him. He couldn’t answer and just stared.
She scooted to the edge of the bed and swung those delicious, long, bare legs over the side. “Have

you eaten?” she asked, settling into a chair by the table. “I was hoping to dine with you tonight so that we
could talk.”

Speech eluded him. What had she said?
“Blac? Are you all right?” Tucking both her legs against her chest, she wound her arms around

them. She’d been crying. After being dealt such a hard blow, Angel had cried, but she hadn’t broken. A
sense of pride wormed its way in. Her strength was one of the things about her that drew him to her.

“Blac.” She rose, as graceful as any woman he’d ever met. “I know you didn’t betray my father...

and I-I’m sorry.”

An aching need clawed its way into his gut and wouldn’t let go. “Don’t apologize to me, Angel. I’m

not so deserving.”

She stood before him now. “Maybe not, but I wanted to say it.” Her tiny hands lifted to tug at his

collar and straighten it. He reached for those hands and brought one to his lips. “I still think you should’ve
told me something, Blac. But I know how stubborn my father is. I know you feel obligated to him. So...I
just had to tell you that.”

She shrugged and the light flickered across the room, thrusting their mingled shadows on the walls.

Her eyes widened as his warm kiss touched her wrist. “Must we...talk?”

He shouldn’t stand so close to her. But he did.
Blue-green eyes caressed his face and he settled her hand against his chest. The heat of her palm

seared his skin. Her hand went on its own little foray into the unknown, and he watched her reaction
carefully. Her wide-eyed fascination and apparent curiosity indicated to him she was innocent. Would he
be her first?

Some primal pride leapt at the idea. And while his mind argued with his body, he simply had to

know exactly how much she knew.

Sweat beaded on his forehead from the heat trapped inside the cabin, or did it come from her?
His focus on her hand became the center of his world. Slipping inside the opened vee of his shirt, it

coasted across his collar bone and down over the slab of his muscled chest. Her gaze remained intent on
her exploration.

Down the hand moved, until she ran into the obstacle of his shirt and hesitated. One single pull

yanked his shirt from the band of his pants, and it left her an opening she didn’t refuse. Both of her hands
disappeared under the fabric and flattened against his stomach. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his
eyes.

Couldn’t he enjoy this for one second before propriety demanded he do the right thing and leave

her alone?

His body was taut and straining against protocol. He’d never fought so hard against something he

wanted so much.

The warmth of her palm sent chills across his flesh in a myriad of patterns. Just once. He swooped

down and captured her lips. Her arms glided around his neck, while her tiny hands found their way into
his hair. A sound of pleasure escaped her pretty mouth and he drank it in.

Her features relaxed in ecstasy and her head lolled back onto her shoulders. His gaze roved over

her. Beautiful. No artist could ever capture the essence of her sensuality within oils or paints. She was
simply the most irresistible woman he’d ever met. She opened to him so sweetly and what little resistance
remained, fled.

How could he fight this? Was he so weak?
His mouth seared a path down her neck. One of her legs wrapped around his and he lifted her,

cupping her buttocks. He moved them to the bed and collapsed atop her.

Damn her. Damn him.
And damn Logan.
Blood rushed through his veins, and all of his senses focused on her. He wanted to consume her.

His lips kissed along her collarbone to the soft flesh just beneath as he ravished what he laid bare. Heat
engulfed them both and wave after wave of desire assaulted him. Trembling beneath him, she moaned.
Lifting both of her legs against his hips, he ground his hardness against her soft flesh. He nipped, licked,
and tasted her skin. Unable to get enough of her, he growled his frustration.

The rhythm of the sea only intensified the strain of their bodies. It didn’t matter that she might still

hate him, it didn’t matter that she was his best friend’s daughter. None of that mattered as she arched her
beautiful body against him.

How could he crave something so much? If he didn’t drink of her soon, he would die of thirst. She

had become his sustenance. He would swallow her dry and still come back for more, until he could no
longer move his lips.

He moved back to her mouth to plunder more. “Blac,” she whispered against his mouth. “Teach

me...” She nibbled on his chin. “Teach me more. I want more.”

He leapt away from her. Filled with disgust, he peered down at his hands. What kind of man did

that make him? He was about to take away the only thing she truly had to give.

Sucking air into his lungs, he stilled.
Both of her legs remained opened, the shirt barely covering her. Ashen locks fanned out around her

shoulders and her eyelids lowered over murky, blue eyes. And she was the most compelling woman he’d
ever seen in his life.

Whipping around to face the other direction, unable to look at her, Blac caught his breath. What the

hell had he been doing? His erratic pulse beat a chaotic rhythm in his ears. Blood rushed through his veins
like a surging river. Seconds more and he would have been buried to the hilt inside her.

He’d practically reared Angel. He could still remember her as a young woman running across the

beaches, her hair fanning out behind her and her blue-green eyes twinkling with mischief as she followed
him.

Wiping a hand across his face, he shook his head. He needed to get out of here.
Blac started for the door, but she hopped to her knees, reaching out for him. She clasped his wrist.

“Don’t leave me, Blac.”

He hung his head. “I can’t stay, Angel. Please don’t ask me to.”
Her slender fingers caressed a path up his arm, sending chills across his flesh. He yanked from her.
“Why are you running? From this? From me?”
“The question is...” His gaze pinned her to the spot. “Why aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
Reaching up, he grasped her chin softly. “You tell me I betrayed you, you tell me you no longer trust

me, and yet—” he paused for effect— “you crave my touch.”

She stiffened.
“Do you really believe there is a happily-ever-after with me?” He let her go and quit the room,

afraid to hear the answer to that very question.

~*~

Angel stayed where she was for several minutes. Her heart still pounded against her chest and her

flesh still burned from the heat of his brand. Yet he expected her to be able think coherently.

She’d wanted to let him know she understood his side of the story, but what had started as a way to

open communication had quickly turned into something much deeper. Something much more thrilling.

Angel collapsed on the bed and chewed on her nail. How could he affect her body this way? Even

after his betrayal. Perhaps he hadn’t initiated this change in her life, and the fault for that lay solely on her
father’s shoulders. Perhaps he was honor-bound to her father, but didn’t she count too?

Surely he didn’t believe she would simply forgive and forget when her entire life had been

uprooted and torn down its center. Not only was she betrayed by the man she’d loved half her life, she’d
been betrayed by her own father.

And yet the moment he’d walked into the room, her every thought had centered on being in his arms.

Warmth spread through her as she remembered his kiss, his hands, and the feel of his body against her.
How easy it was to simply forget everything and submit to the cravings of her flesh.

She sighed.
He was right, her words and her actions contradicted themselves, but she would never admit it to

him. She couldn’t. Admitting it to herself had been difficult enough.

She rolled over on her side and tucked her knees up close to her chest. “Oh, Papa,” she whispered

in the silence. Tears burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “I miss you so much.”

The one person she could get comfort from had suddenly become forbidden to her. And that made

the loneliness and despair so much more difficult to withstand.

Anguish sprang free in a torrent of tears. She clamped both hands over her face as if that would hold

the emotion in, but it didn’t.

How could she continue to pretend she didn’t need Blac’s touch? How could she continue to

pretend she no longer loved everything about him? How could she continue to pretend that she was
stronger than what she really was?

Do you really believe there is a happily-ever-after with me? he’d asked. And yes, she’d believed

just that.

~*~

A single seagull perched on the fore top-sail mast yardarm. It flitted from one end of the pole to the

other, twittering a tiny tune. Angel shaded her eyes from the bright sun and smiled. They were nearing
land. Ocean spray moistened her face as she turned, her gaze drawn to the quarterdeck.

Her heartbeat quickened when she met Blac’s gaze. His massive hands gripped the wheel, his

knuckles white from the strength of his hold. Was he as distracted by her as she was by him?

Pleasure heated her cheeks as she remembered the feel of his mouth. They’d spoken little, and he’d

avoided her ever since. She’d tried to pretend it didn’t matter to her but it did. She missed him.

But more than that, she still craved his touch. Perhaps more so now.
Wind plastered his white shirt against his form, molding it to the muscles of his chest, and her mouth

grew dry. Her thoughts scattered, and she whirled away from him.

He mustn’t know how much he befuddles me.
She wet her lips, which had dried from the salty wind. Angel glanced back at him. As if on cue, his

intense gaze returned to her. For a moment everything else faded and she swallowed. Was he still angry
with her? She searched for some sign of affection from him. He nodded in her direction and turned away.

Her shoulders drooped in disappointment. Did he remember their kiss? He hadn’t spoken to her

since then, but she’d thought of little else.

The full canvas above her snapped in the wind like a whip. Heat stifled any chance of deep breath

as she ambled across the deck, idle and bored. She wished she had something to do.

Angel settled at the base of the main mast where the only shade could be found. Amid the flurry of

activity around her, she lay back and peered into a cloudless sky. Wiping a sleeve across her sweaty
brow, she sighed.

Blac would have done anything her father asked of him.
She wished Blac would have told her something — a warning of some kind — a hint. Anything that

would have prepared her for the shock of finding out the truth. His willingness to get rid of her so easily
still hurt, but she couldn’t blame him any longer.

What exactly did he plan to do with her? And a better question was where were they headed?
She still planned to escape to free her father. She hadn’t deviated from her original strategy. She

just needed to adjust it a little. It’d better be one hell of a distraction to get away from a man like Blac, but
somehow she’d come up with something. Surely.

But first she needed to learn his plans.
Angel closed her eyes, and the heat of the afternoon sun emanated from the planks of the deck. The

slightest breeze wafted away the moisture from her skin. What a beautiful way to spend an afternoon.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, for she came awake with a start at the bellow. Her gaze

shot across the deck as several crew members scurried to perform their chores. Several shouts ensued as
the crew sprang into action.

What was happening? Angel glanced around.
Sheer limestone cliffs rose out of the water like a giant sea monster. The rugged surface gouged by

wind and water were like its pock-marked face. A hardy tree clung to its surface in the center, marking the
spot where the monster’s nose should have been.

The utter expanse of stone gleamed white under the brilliant rays, and the ship seemed to be sailing

directly into the cliff at several knots. Would they be able to slow in time?

Angel surged to the rail. Her eyes widened as the massive terrain towered before them. She’d

rarely left her tiny island, and she’d never seen anything of such gigantic proportions in her life. Her tiny
isle barely sported a few hills, much less any mountainous landscape.

The closer they got, the more frantic she became. Until she saw the cliff’s secret. A crevice, almost

indiscernible even in the light of day, became larger the closer they sailed. Crewmen reeled in the rigging
and sails, and the ship dropped several notches in speed.

They reached the opening. It was at least eighty feet in width and height, narrowing as it went up to

mere inches wide. The ship sailed right through. The cliffs cut severely away to reveal a tiny secluded
beach within the U-shaped island. Sand gave way to a massive blanket of palms and craggy outcrops to
soaring mountainous cliffs.

Movement caught her eye, and she giggled as two dolphins crisscrossed next to the hull of the ship.

The cerulean sea grew shallow until she could see the sand covered bottom.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Blac spoke at her ear.
She jerked around to stare at him, realizing he must’ve come up behind her some time ago. How can

he be so silent?

“It’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than my island.” Peering up at him she asked, “Where are we?”
He leaned his forearms on the rail next to her. “La isla de la serenidad.”
Her eyes went back to the beauty of the island. “What does it mean?”
“Isle of serenity.”
She smiled as the wind tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It fits. Did you name it?”

“Aye. It’s my own tiny, little haven. My place to hide when I need to.”
She frowned. “Why do you need to hide?”
He tilted his head, his eyes took on a faraway look, and the tiny creases in the corners of his eyes

deepened. “I’ve been sailing for the English since I was a boy of eight. There are things I’ve seen and
done, that I do not wish on my enemy, Angel.” He straightened and studied her. “Your life has been
sheltered by your father, and now his crewman. You’ve known nothing of hardship and turmoil.”

He raised a warm hand to her cheek, and a tingle shimmied down her spine at his touch. “But you

know it now, don’t you?” His hand dropped to his side. “And I’m afraid it’ll only get worse before it gets
any better.”

Eight

The Serpent’s Revenge rested at anchor in the tiny cove and Angel sat in the rowboat as they

headed for the dock. Seagulls circled and fluttered on the beach like drifting dandelion seeds in summer.
The wind created a hollow whine as it blew through the short tunnel into the cove. One seaman helped her
from the tiny vessel. She glanced back as Blac stepped up behind her. His hand immediately went to the
small of her back and somewhere inside she tingled at the attention. He dwarfed her petite frame and yet
he was still so gentle.

He led her down the docks and a path cut sharply to the west. “It’s a pretty decent walk, so don’t

dawdle,” he said.

He held a short, curved scimitar and as the terrain steepened, he cut at the overlapping brush and

branches. The sand soon gave way to white rock and it crunched beneath their feet. The cavalcade
traveled up the pathway. The right side cut away to a vertical drop, littered with various sized boulders.
The pathway became so narrow, they were forced to walk in a straight line against the rock wall.

Her hands shook and she squeezed them closed. A small patter of fear slid through her. She’d never

been this high before. Don’t look down. As they ascended the cliff, the ship below them in the harbor
grew smaller and smaller.

Terror increased her heart rate until it thundered in her ears. Even the birds ceased to chatter and

the roar of her blood pounded through her veins.

Angel’s sweaty hands brushed against the gritty feel of the rock behind her, and she tried not to look

down. Blac paused and waited for her. He reached out to her and she took his hand, peering up at him.
Her foot slipped on the loose rocks and a cry escaped her.

Blac’s hand clasped her wrist and jerked her to him. Both of her arms went around his neck and she

clutched him closer. She slammed her eyes shut and panted, unable to grasp a full breath. He patted her
back and rested his chin atop her head. “You’re safe,” he whispered against her brow, the brush of breath
tickling the hair at her temple.

I don’t want to let him go.
One of his crew cleared his throat awkwardly and she nodded her thanks as heat scalded her cheeks

before she continued up the trail. Blac fell into step behind her.

Sweat ran down her face and made her shirt stick to her back. She could use a bath. Hopefully,

there would be a place to bathe here on Blac’s Isle of Serenity.

Would he lock her up so she wouldn’t be able to explore this lush paradise? She certainly hoped

not. She couldn’t wait to see what little treasures she might find.

Stagnant air choked off the passage to her lungs with each step. She heaved in a breath and exhaled.

“How much farther?” she asked.

He grinned and shook his head. “Just like an impatient child. You’ll never change, Angel.” He

nodded to the top of the cliff. “That’s where we’re headed, so it’s not too much further.”

She snorted. “Not too much further...”
The ground changed from a gritty, flat pathway to a rocky incline. Her steps grew larger. She held

onto the side of the cliff and climbed up onto the extended rock. A hand urged her forward and pushed her
up to the next level. When she glanced back, Blac’s gaze was fastened onto her backside. She grinned. He
was still attracted to her, and yet he fought it so hard. If only he’d let go of his reservations and see her as
a woman rather than Logan’s little girl.

“Is this the only way up?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “It’s the quickest. There’s another inlet to the north of us where the pathway is

much larger, large enough for wagons, but it’s a good trek around the edge of the isle.”

She couldn’t imagine anything taking longer than this. The isle didn’t look that big, at first glance.

The path expanded into a plateau which crowned a small, bustling village. Angel’s eyes widened as she
took in the scene. It boasted only a single street, lined with several A-framed wooden buildings.

The pathway turned into a cobblestone road. Angel stepped around a man carrying a barrel as a

sudden squeal drew her attention. A woman with dark hair ran toward them. One of Blac’s crewmen
separated from the crowd and lifted the woman clear off her feet in a hug.

Angel found herself staring as the two kissed and whispered to each other. She blushed and looked

away, only to find Blac’s turbulent gaze on her.

“There’s a village up here?” Surprise widened her gaze as she glanced around.
“Yes.” He grinned. “We have a sort of feudal system here. My men each own a plot of land and

work the plantation in exchange for their service on my ship. They also turn over a small percentage of
their profits to me. Everything else they keep, as well as whatever they make aboard the Revenge. Many
of them have grown rather prosperous, taken wives, had children, and live here when not at sea.”

She formed an O with her mouth but no sound came out. A dog barked and chased a young boy

around a corner, and a wagon rolled down the lane. The sound of a blacksmith’s hammer rang in the
afternoon air.

Blac pointed to the building on their left. “That’s old man Furgus’s son. He’s our local blacksmith,

and a damn good one too.” He motioned to the right and said, “Rycliff’s wife and daughters own the
bakery and supply our bread. We have a metal smith, a tavern, general store, and a dairy. We also quarry
our own limestone. It’s run by some of the local tribes with whom we trade.”

Pride emanated from his gaze as he pointed out the different people and buildings. “We could be

self sufficient here if needed. The plantation grows sugar, bananas, and almonds, and we raise cattle and
pigs.”

They neared the livery, and a young boy exited the building holding the reins of a beautiful, black

stallion. Blac rested a hand on the horse’s neck and greeted him. “I’ve missed you, Obsidian. How’ve you
been?”

The horse shook his great head and whinnied in answer. Blac laughed softly. “I promise I will be

here for the next few weeks, and I’ll be sure to take you riding every day. Don’t punish me for negligence
quite yet, old friend.”

Angel laughed when the horse nodded his great head as if in agreement. Blac mounted and held a

hand down to Angel.

The next few weeks? But why?
She didn’t get time to ask as she climbed up behind him and they left the rest of the crew. They

followed a dirt path away from the town headed north. Quaint, little cottages lined the pathway. Children
raced through the yards and waved at them. Angel grinned and fell in love with Blac’s isle.

It wasn’t long before the plantation house came into view. The limestone structure stood two stories

high with a white wraparound porch and veranda. Tall palms and almond trees littered the front yard, and
brightly colored carnations and orchids fronted the porch.

Her heart squeezed at the tranquility here. It was perfect.
Dismounting, the front jalousie-shuttered door opened to reveal a young, dark-skinned native

woman. “Welcome home, Cap’n Barclay.”

“Baina, have you fared well?”
Dark eyes rested on Angel as she nodded. “We had a big storm but all is well. Was your trip

prosperous, Cap’n?”

“Aye, I’ve acquired what I sought.”Angel didn’t glance at him but he spoke of her. What did he

mean?

“That is good then. I will have supper ready by seven.”
Blac held open the door for both women to enter. The shuttered door sprang shut behind them. The

hall opened to a beautiful dual staircase with banisters made of rich mahogany wood. The limestone
bricks had been coated with plaster and whitewashed to a blinding hue. There were six doorways beyond
the stairs, and Baina disappeared through the doorway to the left.

“So you own slaves?”
“No.” Blac led her up the flight of steps and to the second door to the left. “Everyone here is paid

with either shillings or trade. Baina has seven siblings she must feed, so I feed them and she takes care of
my home.”

“Oh.”
“She and her family lived on Jamaica, and I brought her here with me several years ago. She’s yet

to complain and her siblings are a joy to have around. I am sure you’ll run into one or two during your
stay.”

Angel gave him a sideways glance. He didn’t mind children? Was that pride she saw? How

strange to think of Blac with children. But how endearing as well.

An image of a dark-headed baby flashed in her mind, and an ache settled in the pit of her stomach.

Her dream of marrying Blac and having children seemed as distant as ever.

He swung open a door and she entered. The bedroom was bland in color, white walls, a white, lace

coverlet draped over the bed, and white lace curtains adorned the shuttered windows. But the jalousie
doors opened onto the veranda and the view of the rear of the house took her breath away.

Lush rain forest interrupted the grassland just before the colossal grey mountain peak jutted from the

center of the island. Beyond stretched an endless expanse of ocean and azure sky.

Breathtaking.

~*~

“Amazing isn’t it?” Blac grinned. A welling pride sprang inside his chest as Angel crossed to the

veranda door to peer out at the view beyond.

“How did you find this place?” she whispered.
He scooted past her onto the veranda and sat in one of the wicker chairs, leaning back with a sigh.

“I have to thank your father for that one.”

Her brows lifted in surprise. “How so?”
“Your father and I go way back.” With a hand he indicated for her to join him. “We were

midshipman aboard the HMS Aberdeen under Captain Wythecliff. He had been there of course a bit
longer than me, as I’d just hired on. I was a lad of eight and your father was fifteen. He took me in and
showed me the ropes until he graduated to officer rank.”

Memories assailed him of his younger years. A boy of eight faced with the responsibility of taking

care of his family, while the rest of his friends were still playing soldiers. Suddenly, he had to become
one — the youngest member of the crew, forced to hide any fear. Logan had understood him without
saying as much. And Blac had been glad for the company.

“I didn’t see him again for many years. Next time I saw him, he flew the Jolly Roger.” He turned to

her and folded his hands. “I had acquired my own ship by then, the Enforcer. I was about four-and-twenty.
We met on the opposite ends of cannon, and after a brutal battle —” he sighed —“he won.”

She scooted around him and settled into the chair next to him with wide eyes. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said. “I watched her sink into the folds of the ocean just off this shore, to the north of here

as a matter of fact.”

She frowned. “Then how did you become friends?”
He chuckled. “I had resigned myself to go down with my ship, but his men fished me out of the

water. My crew and I, what was left of them, were taken prisoner. A musket ball gravely wounded my
side. Logan took me to his isle and nursed me back to health.”

And I owe him my life. Yet, I can’t seem to keep my hands off his daughter. What kind of friend

am I?

Angel clapped. “Oh, I remember now. I was twelve. It was the first time we met.”
He nodded. “I lived on your island for close to two years.”
“Two and half years,” she corrected.
“He ransomed me back to the English. My father, of course, paid the money. That’s when I learned

about the exorbitant bounty on Logan’s head.” He sighed. “I was forced to betray him, you know.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve betrayed him?”
“I haven’t betrayed him this time,” he corrected with a frown. “My father was minor competition

for Worthington Shipping Industries. It was run by a Viscount Brackley. My family had always struggled.
It’s why I went into the Navy so early. Someone had to pull my family out of the incredible debt we’d
gotten ourselves into. Brackley came to me and threatened my father’s business if I didn’t give up your
father’s location.”

“And you did?”
He nodded. “I had to. My family’s existence depended on it...but I switched the longitude and

latitude. Not being a navy man, I’m certain he didn’t figure it out until it was too late. I set sail to warn
your father of the viscount’s interest. Logan didn’t seem surprised at all. I got the feeling that the two had
a long history, but I never did figure out what happened between them.”

“What happened to your father?”
He shrugged. “I knew that the viscount would ruin my father anyway. He knew of my father’s

weakness for gambling. My father owed the Viscount large amounts of money but died before he could
pay it back.”

He stood and moved to the rail to peer in the distance. “I found this island several years later, and I

was determined to settle here. I really had no reason to return to England. But I keep going back anyway.
Every shilling I make goes into building this place. Then once I got the sugar mill up and running, things
took off. My men and I have made this our home. One day I plan to retire and live the rest of my old life
here.”

He eased around to find her gaze studying him. Her brows furrowed with sympathy. “Alone?”
Where was this question leading? “I hope not.” He eyed her warily.
She climbed to her feet and stood before him. So close the heat of her body urged him forward, but

he resisted.

“Who do you see yourself with?”
His gaze snapped to her, and he frowned. “I haven’t given it much thought. I don’t plan to marry for

many years yet.”

She chuckled. “You’re thirty-four years old, Blac. Just how much longer do you think you have?”
He let go of the rail and drew himself up. “I am not old.”
Her features softened into a smile. “No, certainly not, but you’re not young either. If you plan to

leave this place and your holdings in England to a son, then you’d best get to work begetting one.”

“Before I’m too old?” The word left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Yes. You won’t live forever.”
His frown deepened. “Might I demonstrate to you just how young I am?”
She chuckled. “I am not denying your manhood. Blac, I am simply saying every day you grow older

and every day is one step closer to the grave. When do you plan to start a family? When you’re sixty?”

“No,” he snapped. “But I still have some time.”
She lifted a brow. “Do you?”
His hands clasped her upper arms and drew her close. “I know what you’re up to. It won’t work.

You’re searching for something that doesn’t exist.”

“Then why do I fairly burn whenever you look at me?”

“You mistake love and lust, little girl. The two are not the same.”
Her mouth flattened into a straight line and her eyes narrowed. “But they coincide, do they not? You

cannot love someone you don’t lust after.”

He arched a brow. “And you have such a vast knowledge of lust and love?”
She moved to him and placed both hands on his cheeks. “Call it woman’s intuition.”
He stepped away. “You delude yourself.”
“Do I?” she asked. “Or is it you who gets the two mixed up? Maybe you’re just afraid.”
A sharp bark of a laugh escaped him. “After a life at sea, Miss De’haviland, there is little I fear.”

He straightened. “Love is an illusion. It’s an emotion one feels at the beginning, but it soon fades into hate.
The two sides of a single coin: love and hate. And no one is immune, not even those who pretend
otherwise.”

He exited the veranda and headed for the door. She followed him when he whipped around. “And

you, my dear, are looking for fairy tales where none exist. You will find yourself sorely disappointed by
reality when all is said and done. Mark my words, life has a way of sucking all the hope and dreams from
us. The only real happiness we will ever find will be in ourselves.”

She crossed the room. “Like what? Give me an example. If not love, then what makes us happy?”
He swept his arm in an arc. “Take a look, princess. Money is the only happiness you can hold.

Anything else is an illusion and little-girl fantasies.”

Nine

Blac entered the study and settled into the leather chair behind the mahogany desk he’d built

himself. He ran a hand across its smooth surface. Money had allowed him the opportunity to make this.
Mahogany trees grew in abundance on the isle and most of the furniture, banisters, and doors in the house
had been made of it. It was money that’d allowed him to build this tiny empire in the middle of the
Caribbean Ocean. And this empire allowed families to come together and live their happily-ever-afters.
And that makes me happy, doesn’t it?

Angel’s words came back to him. You won’t live forever.
He knew that, and with every passing day it became more and more apparent to him. He longed for

something he didn’t want to name.

He did want children, a son to inherit all he’d built. He wanted to pass on more than just his home

and this isle, he wanted to watch his children grow into adults. He’d convinced himself it was too early to
think of things like that, but now he was faced with reality. He wasn’t getting any younger.

Blac sighed and propped his booted feet on the desk. He had to get Angel married. That, at least, he

could do. He’d promised Logan he’d protect Angel and he would. Then he could work on getting Logan
out of the British prison and hopefully eke out a little revenge on the lieutenant while he was at it. Until
then, he would avoid Angel like the plague and dump her cute little derriere off at her grandfather’s house
as soon as possible.

“You look like you’ve just tussled with the wrong she-cat.”
Rigo sauntered to the cupboard and fixed himself a brandy. Blac ran a hand over his face and when

he peered up, Rigo handed him a glass. Nodding his thanks, he took a sip.

I have. And this time she may have won.
Blac shrugged and scowled.
“Round one to Angel?”
Heat shimmied up his neck into his face. Damn, was he that obvious? Blac shot a narrow-eyed glare

at his quartermaster. “Don’t you have something to do?”

Rigo stopped in a dramatic pause, appearing to consider the words, and then shook his head. “No,

not at the moment. You gave me the week off, remember?”

“Not my first mistake.”
Rigo chuckled. “So, what are you doing in here all by your lonesome?”
Why lie? Rigo would figure it out anyway and would just goad him for his weakness. “Brooding,

until my unwanted visitor showed up. What do you want?”

Rigo laughed and flopped onto the settee. “You know...these things are really comfortable. No

wonder women like them so much.”

“Are you insinuating something with that comment?”
Rigo glanced up, his dark Spanish eyes filled with mirth. “Not at all, old man. Just wanted to drop

in to let you know the lookout spotted a ship. It’s still quite a ways off-shore but I thought you’d want to
know.”

Old man. Even my crew thinks I’m old.
He sighed. “Thanks.” A ship? That meant Angel’s crew would have left shortly after the Revenge

had. Had they found out something so soon?

Rigo swallowed the rest of the amber liquid in his glass and set it on the table. “So what is the

plan? I’d love to be able to help out once in a while, but it’s hard when I’m uncertain what our goals are.
After all, two years ago, someone forgot to inform me we were supposed to escort Miss Angel back to
her grandfather’s. I probably would have been better prepared for her trickery had I realized the
situation.”

Rigo was right. Blac had completely bungled everything by keeping it a secret from everyone who

should’ve known. And this was the result he must live with.

Blac stood and made his way to the window. His island seemed a little lonely suddenly. Or is that

just me?

Life on this island no longer held as much appeal as it had years ago. Now it seemed desolate.

Dreary. Despite the beauty all around him, everything seemed a little colorless.

He whirled back to Rigo, refusing to look close into that part of his life. “The lieutenant has Logan

somewhere,” he said. “I’m assuming Port Royal, but I’ve had no confirmation yet. The ship just off the
coast is probably Angel’s crew since I invited them here.”

“When did that happen?”
“Just before we left port with Angel in tow.”
Rigo nodded. “So what about the feisty fellow we have locked away?”
Blac stalked the room. Somehow it seemed much smaller than he remembered. “He’s the

lieutenant’s superior officer, a man who has access to the information I need to get Logan back.”

“But I thought this is what Logan wanted.”
“He did. But for some reason, the lieutenant broke the agreement and came entirely too early.

According to the deal, we had another two weeks before Logan’s arrest. Charles broke that agreement for
a reason...and I have to find out why.”

Rigo nodded. “You think he’s got ulterior motives?”
“I know he does.” Blac ground his teeth in remembrance. “This isn’t the first time I’ve run into his

family. I know their tactics and their history...and their slates have never been clean. Something doesn’t
fit, and I think Angel is the key. Charles jumped on the chance for me to capture Angel. Now I just have to
figure out why without getting caught and getting us all killed.”

“But the lieutenant thinks you work for him.”
“Indeed.” Blac grinned. “I never said playing both sides was easy.”
“So what’s next?”
Blac shrugged. “I’m really waiting on the information Angel’s crew can gather. If we can learn

where Logan is being held, we can figure out how to free him. But first I need to drop Angel somewhere
safe. Her father made arrangements for her grandfather to take custody of her. After Angel’s crew arrives,
I’ll probably head to Barbados. That way I’ll know she’s safe and well taken care of.”

“And after that?”
Blac tapped a finger on the polished desk. “Then we find Logan and figure out what the hell the

lieutenant is up to.”

Rigo scooted off the settee and tossed Blac his empty glass. “That’s easier said than done, old

man.”

Blac leapt forward and barely caught the tumbler. Killing my quartermaster isn’t an option.

Unfortunately, I still need him.

“Indeed.” Blac’s tone grew a little cooler as he set the goblet on the desk. “But I owe the man more

than my life and I owe the Worthington family a little retribution of my own.”

~*~

Gulls dipped and

soared along the pink and blue horizon like white snowflakes fluttering to the

earth below. Angel sighed. Beautiful. Waves lapped at her feet and she knelt to pick up the shiny blue
shell buried in the sand.

A tiny, dark hand crept into her palm and squeezed. Zaiena, Baina’s youngest sibling, clasped her

hand and smiled an adorable, toothless grin at her. The surf broke against the shore and the wind teased
Angel’s face. She grinned down at the girl. “Thank you.”

“You feel better now?”

Angel nodded. “Absolutely. You have a wonderful knack for bringing happiness to people, Zaiena.”
The six-year-old smiled. “Aye, my mother said the same thing.”
The inlet behind the house wasn’t large enough for a ship to sail into, but it was secluded and

serene. It cut sharply into the isle and took less than an hour to walk to. It was perfect.

“Where did you learn English? You speak so well.”
“My sister taught me some...and Blac taught me better.”
Angel chuckled. Leave it to Blac to correct a little girl’s speech. Everything must be perfect for the

man. Must she be perfect too?

Heaven forbid he married a woman twelve years younger than him. That would really put a kink in

his perfect life. She almost snorted. He simply couldn’t let things happen naturally, the way they were
supposed to. He had to plan every god-forsaken moment of his life.

She and Zaiena continued their trek down the beach until the cove opened up to expose the vast

ocean beyond. Everything about this island felt like home, except for its master. Sadly, he did everything
in his power to keep her at arm’s length, and she missed him.

Angel turned toward the path that led to main house and stopped to pick an orchid. She smelled its

fragrant scent and frowned. This would never be home.

She would have to harden her heart against not only Blac, but her growing love of this isle. This

wasn’t home.

She would remind herself of that every day if needed. Guarding her heart wouldn’t be as easy as

she’d first imagined. How could this push and pull relationship ever be anything but the chaotic mess it
was right now.

He wanted her. But just her body. He missed her, but not enough to change his mind about her.
The breeze blew the simple, white, square-necked shirt off her shoulder. It was just a tad large, but

Baina had been nice enough to let her borrow some clothes. The woman was much taller than Angel, so
the brightly-colored red and yellow skirt billowed about her bare feet. She actually enjoyed the feel of the
cotton skirt more so than she did her cut-off breeches, which surprised her. She felt feminine in it and yet
it offered enough free movement to be comfortable.

Zaiena dropped her hand and raced ahead of her to catch up with her brothers. Angel smiled. How

nice would it be to have children and watch them play. Maybe Blac’s children.

A dark-headed child with her blue-green eyes.
Her fingers clenched snapping the stem of the orchid in two. She glanced down and sighed. An ache

settled over her body, so strong she almost stumbled. She had to forget about Blac. He didn’t want her.
Like he said, her hopes were only little girl fantasies. Wishful thinking. Wasn’t it?

Zaiena’s laughter drifted to her and she dropped the orchid in the sand. Like her dreams of a

happily-ever-after, the flower lay broken and wilting in the sun.

Angel strolled further down the beach until the sun hung on the edge of the horizon. A strong gust of

wind whipped at her hair, and she peered out over the vast expanse of blue. She saw no signs of a storm.
That’s when she saw the dot just to the south-west of her. She squinted to be sure. She wished she had her
spy glass but yes...it appeared to be a —

Ship.

~*~

Brilliant golds and reds streaked across the sky and contrasted brilliantly with the azure sea. Blac

stood at the end of the dock and waited for the rowboat. He’d seen the ship on the horizon hours ago and
had ridden Obsidian down to meet them, taking the long way.

He hadn’t seen Angel all day. According to Baina, she’d gone for a walk. Good, one less

distraction for him.

Rigo had joined him on the ride down. “Do you think Angel will behave until we finish this?”

He dismounted. “Probably not.”
Had she seen the ship yet? And as if on cue, the patter of feet hitting the boardwalk made him turn

about. “Speak of the devil,” he said and walked the horse toward her, meeting her halfway. “Good
afternoon, my Angel.”

Her disheveled hair fell around her shoulders and she hiked the skirt to her knees. She’d yet to drop

the skirt. I will definitely have to work on her etiquette.

Despite her lack of propriety, the sight of her undid him. Everything about her sent his pulses

pounding and his blood churning. One look at her weakened his resolve, and his imagination grew more
robust and lustful every day. He wanted to run his hands over her smooth flesh and feel the warmth of her
against his body. Resisting the temptation to touch her became more difficult and even now, he yearned to
take her in his arms to prove to her just how much of a man he still was.

She panted, her chest rising and falling heavily with her run. “Do not patronize me, Blac.” She

pointed toward the cove. “That is my ship.”

“Your ship? I disagree.”
She shook her head. “Our ship, whatever, that’s my crew.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“What the hell is my ship doing here?”
He grinned. “Feisty today, aren’t you?”
She slammed her jaw shut and her tiny fists jabbed into her sides. “What is going on? And don’t try

to change the subject.”

He chuckled. “How about this...a truce?” He reached out and stroked her soft cheek. “If I promise to

come to you in a while and tell you everything, will you let me conduct my business without interrupting?”

She frowned.
But she didn’t say no. Progress. He pressed further. “I won’t do anything else until I have come to

talk to you, Angel. I promise.”

She glanced from him to the rowboat, then back again. “All right, if you promise to let me see Bruno

and Max.”

“I would never keep you from your family.”
She eyed him warily for a second before heading back toward the path. The sway of her hips

beneath the bright-colored skirt drew his attention and his mouth went dry.

At the end of the path, she met Zaiena and the two clasped hands. Something tugged at his heart. She

was crawling under his skin and bombarding all the places he’d believed hidden for so long now. He
would have to reinforce those battered walls before they crumbled. To allow her in would be folly when
soon he must let her go.

Hardening his heart, and whipped back around just as the dinghy docked. The surf battered the

beach and the screech of the sea gulls rent the stillness. Max and Bruno leapt from the boat and headed
toward him. Max gave a formal nod and shook Blac’s hand. “Barclay, good to see you again.”

Bruno nodded but made no move to shake hands.
“Always a pleasure, O’Reilly.” Blac waited as Rigo handed the reins of the extra two horses to

Max. They mounted and Blac led the way down the docks toward the trail. “Did you fare the trip well?”

“We ran inta a squall, other than tha’ we had fair winds.”
The small talk continued until they reached the house. Blac escorted them into the dining room and

the four men settled into the straight backed chairs. Baina served p

arsley, oven-baked perch and thin

slices of ham cured in juniper berries with apples. Dandelion leaf soup with chervil and chives, and

mangos for dessert.

Blac picked up the knife. “So let’s discuss business, gentlemen. Tell me what you found?” He

sliced through the fish and took a bite.

Max frowned. “How do we know yer going ta keep yer word, mate?”
Blac sighed. “I didn’t betray Logan. He’d already planned his surrender months before. We — he

and I — had planned to tell everyone that evening. Including Angel. But the lieutenant broke the
arrangement and betrayed our trust.” Blac set down his knife and sighed. “Look I can’t make you trust me
or even believe me...but we have Angel to think about because Logan can’t. Now do we argue over who
is right or do we take a risk and trust each other to get the job done?”

Max stilled for several moments. Blac feared he was about to tell him to go to hell. But he slumped

in defeat. “Logan is mae best friend, mate, and Angel is like a daughter to us. All of us.” He indicated
Bruno and outside the window to the ship in the cove. “Whether we get Logan out of tha’ stinkin English
prison or not, doesn’t matter. Makin’ sure Angel stays safe is our first priority. And I know ye’ care for
them both.”

Bruno leaned forward, and his palm slapped the table.
“Aye, but make no mistake, Barclay, if’n Angel gets hurt, we’ll hunt ye down like the rat ye are and

feed ya tew the sharks.”

Blac nodded. “Fair enough. Now what did you learn?”
“Logan is being held in Port Royal, his trial is set for the end of the year.” Max sipped his wine.

The clang of the glass against the china made him grimace. “This isn’t me forte’, mates, I’d much rather be
eatin’ bread and cheese aboard me ship.”

“Aye.” Blac agreed with a nod. “Understandable, Max, however Baina prepared this delightful

dinner and I hate to waste it. Tell me about the lieutenant. Was he anchored in port?”

“Aye,” Max said. “But I did hear tell of him leaving for a few weeks to visit his father.”
“Did you send him my message?”
“Aye,” Max said with his mouth full. “The ransom is set ta take place in a fortnight.”
“Good. Just enough time to take Angel somewhere safe.”
Max raised a brow. “And where might tha’ be?”
“To Barbados to meet her grandfather. I think she’ll be safe enough there, and between the rest of

us, we can get this nasty business of ransoming her father out of the way ourselves.”

He set his napkin on the table. “Which brings me to another matter...I’d like you to pick your best

men and temporarily join my crew until we get this done. I think it would be better for Angel if you and
Bruno were there. She trusts you. And I am hoping you will help me convince her that it would be in her
best interest.”

Bruno shook his great head. Max interpreted for Blac. “He thinks the old viscount be a hateful man.

And he be right. The man disinherited his own daughter.”

Blac sipped his wine. “I think we all want what’s best for her. And I don’t think her presence on the

ship during a ransom that could potentially go wrong would be wise. Do you?”

Max shook his head, but Bruno didn’t move. He motioned something with his hands and Max said,

“He thinks it should be her choice.”

Blac sighed. “Whatever her grandfather has done in the past, he can offer her security. I was to set

sail as soon as the Serpent was ready to drop her into her grandfather’s care two years ago. That’s what
Logan had wanted then, and why shouldn’t we want the same thing?”

Bruno scowled. He wasn’t convinced, obviously. Blac sighed. “She’ll inherit her mother’s dowry,

marry into a good family, have everything that she ever needs or wants.” Blac stood. “Or would you
rather she live amongst pirates her entire life?”

Bruno remained stoic and crossed his arms.
Blac tossed his napkin onto his plate. “Let me tell you her life, Bruno. She’ll marry some deadbeat

pirate, have multiple children, and be widowed at a young age. This kind of life will wear her down and
she’ll eventually begin to show it. The sparkle in her eyes will be sucked right out of her, and you’ll no

longer be able to see a trace of the vibrant sweetness you see right now.”

He placed both hands on the table to get his point across. “Think about it, she’ll become bitter,

miserable, and one day she’ll probably blame you and me. Is that what you really want for Angel?”

Bruno seemed to falter, his eyes fell and he sighed. He nodded and got to his feet. His dark hand

covered his heart.

“Aye we all love her, matey,” Max said.
“If it’s any consolation, I want her to stay here with me and I’ll miss her like the devil. But she is

too naïve to make the right decision for herself. I want the best for her, even if it means letting her go.”

Pain clenched his heart, and the sudden loss of breath made him realize everything he’d just said

was true. He loved her. He would miss her smile, her laughter, and the bright shining eyes when she saw
something she loved.

He took a step back as if he’d been hit with a physical force, then another. How can I let her go

when all I really want to do is hold her and keep her safe?

Ten

Blac stumbled out the door onto the veranda.
He couldn’t catch his breath. Everything in him whirled and he found no way to control the

unremitting spiraling of thoughts inside his head. What had he become?

Blac had prided himself as a moral man. A man who, despite all else in his life, always managed to

do the right thing. And here he was lusting after his good friend’s daughter. What kind of man was he?
What kind of friend?

He shouldn’t feel these things for Angel but he was drawn to her. She undid him like the thinnest

piece of yarn unraveling from a ball until he lay in a jumbled mess. And here he stood, confused,
disoriented, and whatever sanity he had left was held in check with the barest hint of restraint.

Angel had unwittingly finagled her way through his cracks into the deepest, darkest part of him.

She’d laid waste to his every defense until he stood bare.

And now he loved a woman he could never have.
His eyes followed the veranda to the left and then to the right, as if he were searching for the

answer and it would be there. But there were no answers here, only a black, infinite expanse of questions.

One by one, the stars turned on and he closed his eyes. Too bad the light didn’t penetrate inside the

recesses of his mind and reveal the answers he sought.

What have I become?
“Blac?” He squeezed his eyes closed.
Her whispered words tore the breath from his chest. “Are you all right?”
No, I’m lost.
“Are you unwell?”
He opened his eyes. She glided out of the shadows at the corner of the veranda. Shrouded in

moonlight, she wore a virginal white night gown, enforcing the image of her innocence. And his heart split
slowly down its center. One part of it would always belong to her. He knew this now. But he had a duty to
protect her. Even from himself.

Especially from himself.
He would keep his promise to Logan because above all, they were friends. And Blac was

honorable. And loyal. He would not bend or change from his course.

Even if it meant watching the only beautiful thing in his life slip away from him. He peered down at

his hands as if he could catch her before she disappeared. But she didn’t vanish.

He couldn’t speak as she glided her way to him. Like an ethereal being. An angel. And the ache in

his heart swelled until he thought it might burst. He would remember her just as she was at this moment
for the rest of his life. When he grew old and grey, he would hold this moment close, because once she
was gone, he would never feel this way again.

The sweetest hint of jasmine wafted to him. One of his hands moved of its own accord and lifted a

single flaxen lock from her shoulder.

“Is everything all right, Blac? You look a little pale.”
Blac smiled softly at the concern in her eyes. She’d always fancied herself in love with him. He

must make her let him go. “We have to address this attraction between us.”

Her eyes widened.
“Don’t tell me I’m the only one that feels it,” he whispered. Was that a plea?
“No.”
“Do you understand why I can’t let this continue?”
She shook head. “No, I don’t understand. Why is this so wrong?”
The wind rustled her hair and the silvery strands glistened like silk. Her eyes appeared translucent.

And pleading.

His hand caressed her chin. How could he make her see reason when he could see little himself?

“Angel, your father and I have been friends for many years. He offered the kind of friendship most people
will never find. I owe him more than loyalty. I cannot allow myself or you to betray his trust in such a
way.” He grasped her upper arms. “Do you understand that at least?”

She nodded. Her brows furrowed and she wrapped her arms around waist as if in comfort. He

should be the one to offer her comfort but he forced himself to keep her at arm’s length.

“But make no mistake, this is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I want you with every part

of my being, I want more than your body. I—”

He’d almost slipped and told her he loved her. That would prove disastrous. She would never give

up her pursuit then, and he must get her to let him go because he wasn’t sure he was capable of doing the
same. “I’ve come to feel things for you that we must put a stop to now.”

She pulled from his embrace and he let her go. “Do you really believe my father will be that angry

with us?”

“No.”
She tossed both arms in the air. “Then why worry about it?”
“Because I will know. It is morally wrong for me to feel this way about you, I am twelve years your

senior.”

“Age matters little to me!”
“But it matters to me, Angel.”
She huffed and turned her back to him. “This ethical road you’re taking is of your own choosing,

and you only make the both of us suffer the consequences because you’re too stubborn to admit you might
be wrong.”

She swung back to him and pointed a finger in his chest. “You may think your resistance is the right

thing to do but when it’s all said and done, you will realize that there are some things we simply can’t
control. That’s your biggest problem, Blac. You think you have to control everything. Everything must be
in order, go the way you want it to, be in its proper place, and when you’re faced with something you
can’t control, you crumble.”

She was right. But it didn’t change his mind. He’d set a course for himself and nothing could sway

him from it. Not even the sweetest lips of the Angel before him.

“You think I can’t?”
“What?”
“You think I can’t resist this? Or you?”
She lifted a soft hand to his cheek. “I think you will try.” The warmth of her hand lured him, and he

resisted the urge to lean into it. Christ, how could she feel so right? “I think you are resisting, even now.
But I’m hoping you will change your mind.”

“Why?” His voice broke on that single word. Why did he sound so tortured?
She studied him with languid, blue-green eyes and he wanted to forget his reasoning for not taking

her into his arms. He wanted to forget everything but the feel of her, the scent of her, and the taste of her
sweetness.

“Because my happiness lies within your decision, as well. Or hadn’t you realized that?”
Her whispered words tore through him and ripped out his heart. “You will love again,” he assured

her. “I’m confident you will find someone and live a full life.”

“And you will not?”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “You will marry and have children. Your life will be full of

all the things it should be.” He was trying just as hard to convince himself as he was trying to convince
her, but somewhere inside, he sensed that he’d failed at both endeavors.

“You are so certain of that? It will be so much easier for me to forget all that has transpired

between us than it will be for you? Is that what you’re saying?”

Her question confused him, or was it her nearness? “No— Yes!” He sighed. “I don’t know, but I do

know this. I am taking you to your grandfather’s home in Barbados until I get this ransom business done.
He’ll take you to London and make sure you find a good man to marry.”

“I don’t want a good man!” She balled her fists at her side. “Don’t you get it? You’re taking away

my right to choose for myself. If those are my choices then I choose to be alone.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He dismissed her words as illogical. She’d had little

experience with matters of the heart. “Loneliness will change your mind quickly.”

“Like it’s done for you?”
Her countered reply surprised him. He frowned. “Honestly, I’ve never known loneliness until—”
He’d almost said now. To admit his infatuation had completely consumed his entire life would be

the greatest folly. He could only imagine her determination once she learned how much he adored her, and
would have to kiss his plans goodbye.

Her features softened, and she moved before he knew what she was about. Her arms wrapped

around his waist and she rested her head on his chest. And damn if she didn’t feel perfect there, as if she
fit. He should step back, but he didn’t when he had the chance. Instead, his arms closed over her and
wrapped her up. The sweetest warmth blossomed inside his chest, and he could no longer deny that he
was irrevocably in love with her.

Then she did the one thing she shouldn’t have; she raised her face to him. Her eyes half closed, lips

parted, and desire written so plainly there to see. He groaned. The touch of their lips hurled heat through
his body like a blazing trail of lava.

Every rational thought fled, every sense of propriety disappeared, and Blac could no longer still his

heart.

His arms crushed her to him, and she opened beautifully to him. Their tongues searched and mated.

Her slender arms wound their way around his neck and pulled him closer.

“What have you done to me?” he whispered against her lips.
She sighed. “Made you fall in love?”
He crushed her to him. Her scent driving him to madness.
Yes, she’d managed to do just that.
Soft fingers dug into the coiled muscles of his shoulders and her body arched into him, her breasts

flattening against his chest.

“I must stop this.” The command did little but leave his lips, for his body had long since ceased to

listen. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up, take her to his room, and lay her across his bed to fill
her with his flesh. She trembled beneath his hands.

“Please don’t,” she murmured against his lips.
His hands coasted down her back until they anchored themselves against her derriere. He nibbled at

the soft lips and bit with care. A soft sigh escaped and he captured it, drinking it in. His cupped hands
lifted her against his arousal and he backed her into the wall behind them. Those lush, shapely legs
wrapped around him and his resistance slipped further. She wiggled against him, trying to get closer, and
he closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of the warmth between her thighs.

How could he resist this woman? The only woman who’d ever captured his interest so thoroughly

he’d thought of little else over the last few years.

With one hand he slid the gown up her thighs. The warmth of her skin inflamed him. He clasped her

hips and ground his erection against her. She panted into his mouth.

“Don’t fight it.”
His body leapt at the soft command. He’d lost the will to fight this the moment she’d touched him,

but eagerness overcame him as if he were an untried lad. His body clearly stated resistance was futile.

He gathered the cotton in his hands, sliding the gown to her waist. She strained against him, and

every last ounce of his sanity fled.

His hands shimmied under the gown to her breasts and closed over each mound to gently squeeze.

His thumbs brushed over the turgid peaks and she gasped, tossing her head back and giving him access to
her neck of which he gladly took possession. He kissed the soft flesh above her collarbone and licked a
path to just below her ear.

She shivered and the pattern of chill bumps rose across her flesh under his palms. Just one more

taste and he would set her aside for good....one more taste.

~*~

Angel’s whole world filled with Blac: the scent of cigar’s and brandy. His hands were everywhere,

and her pulse quickened at the delicious sounds he made. His kisses traced her jaw line, and she’d never
come so alive in her life.

Her fingers buried into his hair, threading through the silky strands. The heat of his hands took her

breath and she arched delightedly into him. He braced her against the wall with one hand cupping her
rear, her legs settling against his thighs. One of his hands crept down her body between them until it
reached the apex of her thighs, and she tensed. Every nerve in her body heightened, every breath stalled,
waiting...

One digit slipped between the folds of her opened legs and she almost leapt from his arms. In utter

abandon, she tossed her head back as both legs tightened reflexively.

“My Angel,” he whispered. And she knew the truth of those words. She’d always belonged to him.

And she always would.

So why couldn’t he see that?
He jerked on the ties to her nightgown. His hot mouth trailed a path down her neck to her breasts

until it closed over the turgid peaks. She clasped handfuls of hair and drew his head closer, wriggling
against him. The finger caressed the nub gently and wrought another whimper from her, until it slipped
inside her moist cleft.

She couldn’t resist the words, “Why fight something that feels so right?”
And with that said, his whole body deflated and she slid down him until her feet hit the floor. His

reluctant sigh and his forehead hit the side of the wall, all telling her she’d ruined her chances.

They stayed that way for several more seconds before he lifted his head to stare at her. He righted

her clothes and stepped away. He gave a sad smile. “No matter how I feel about you, Angel, I will still
deliver your sweet bottom to your grandfather where you will be safe. Neither you, nor your... alluring
charms will sway my decision. Your fate was sealed the day your father gave me guardianship.”

~*~

They arrived in “little England” sometime after noon, one of the busiest times of the day in

Bridgetown on the isle of Barbados. Humid air stagnated within the wharves which were crowded with a
colorful throng of people. Numerous masts protruded into the skyline in Carlisle Bay and the consistent
clanging of activity clogged the atmosphere. Tiny blue fishing boats bobbed atop the cerulean surface as
the waves lapped at their bows.

Angel, Blac, and members of the crew pounded down the plank to the dock and headed for the

center of town. Cranes and crews loaded and unloaded the ships at a clipped pace while various dark-
skinned vendors sold their wares. Several of the bright-clad Barbadian women sported brilliant-hued
parasols swinging, to and fro dangerously close to her face. Angel frowned and swatted one away like a
nagging fly.

Heat smothered any chance of breath and her shirt clung to her body like a soppy rag. Their boots

clicked across the cobbled roads on Broad Street. One ragged seaman shouldered through their group and

shoved Angel into the pink wall of the two-storied structure. Blac clasped her arm and hauled her closer
to him, his face a mask of irritation. “Stay close.”

She frowned at his back like a sullen child. As if that had been all her fault. Angel crossed her arms

across her chest and kept pace with him.

Blac eased his grip before letting go completely as the crowd of bodies forced them into single-line

formation. It would be so easy to just disappear into the crowd here. The idea tantalized her.

Angel peered through the mass of dark faces. A woman wearing a canary yellow corset and little

else smiled, revealing brilliant white teeth, a remarkable contrast to her skin. Angel smiled in return but
was shoved to the left by an unseen hand. She gasped as the horde closed in, around her cutting her off
from the crew. Angel jumped to see how far ahead Blac was but couldn’t see him. Panic widened her
gaze as the flock of unknown faces gathered in closer, and her heart hammered inside her throat.

“Blac!” she called out, but the deafening drone of different languages swallowed her cry.
Angel shoved past several people, hoping to catch up, but the tide of unwashed bodies came in and

she found herself riding the wave until she was washed to the side of the street.

Why am I so worried?
Alone, she slipped between the bright painted buildings. She could escape. Easily.
But where to? She had no ship, no crew, and no clue where to go. Blac was her only chance at

survival at this point, and she’d lost him too.

She stumbled over a set of discarded wicker baskets in the alley and righted herself. Her palms

brushed the cool limestone wall as she turned onto Swan Street, which ran parallel to Broad Street.
Maybe she could race ahead and meet up with him.

It was less congested here but curious glances were thrown her way as she ran down the block. She

stopped at the intersection and peered through the dark sea of people. Blac was nowhere to be seen. She
called out his name again.

“Bruno? Max? Anyone!”
A loud pop split the afternoon peace, and a burning slice singed her shoulder. Angel gasped and fell

back against the wood structure behind her. A bullet had grazed her shoulder and blood oozed from the
cut to trickle down her chest.

Several screams rent the air and people scattered. Angel grasped the wound and whipped around

trying to locate the shooter. Knocked aside, she couldn’t see a thing, but something told her that bullet was
meant for her.

An intuition screamed at her to run.
Angel whipped around and darted back down the alley she’d come from toward the docks.

Something eerie slid along her spine as if someone watched her. Seconds later, she paused and realized
she’d missed the turn. Alarmed, her hands shook. Two more turns and she knew she was completely lost
in a town she knew nothing about — with someone trying to kill her.

Her impulsive decision to lose herself in the crowd had come back to haunt her. Skidding to a halt,

she rounded the next curve and seconds later another musket ball pinged into the building, missing her
face by mere inches. Jerking back behind the corner, she raced back the way she’d come with her heart
inside her throat.

Tears gathered in her eyes and watered her view. Flustered, she couldn’t decide where to go next.

Her chin trembled and suddenly she wished she’d hung onto Blac’s arm like a leech.

She had to find him.
Creeping around the next corner, she knew if she could find the docks again she could return to the

ship. Surely, Blac would think to look for her there. After all, where else did she have to go?

She refused to look behind her, focusing instead on her destination. Find the harbor and she would

find safety on the ship. Several members of Blac’s crew were still there. They would protect her. She

clung to that hope.

The tips of the masts came into view finally and she ran for them, deaf to her own sobs. Everything

around her blurred as she dashed down the wharves and spotted the Revenge at the end of the pier. Relief
washed over her but whooshed right out of her chest as a vise-like arm scooped her up around the waist.

She screamed.
“Running away already?”
Blac! Angel gasped, turned, and launched into his arms until he was forced to wrap her up. Tears

flowed freely, and she cared not a whit who saw them. Relief cascaded over her. She’d never felt more
safe than she did right here in Blac’s arms.

He patted her awkwardly on the back and then smoothed a hand into a caress. “Angel, are you all

right? What’s wrong?” he whispered against her temple, placing a tiny kiss there.

Angel clutched him closer. “S-someone shot me.”
He set her away from him forcefully to inspect her and caught sight of the wound. His gaze widened

and he inspected the injury. “An accident?”

Angel shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. They shot at me twice, Blac.”
His brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
Blac gripped her arm and led her back to the ship. His gaze constantly scanned the area, the crowd,

and he pushed people out of their way. But his hand never left her, his grip never slackened.

Topside, Blac shouted orders to increase the watch and have the crew return to the ship. “Send out

a message to her grandfather and let him know he can come retrieve her here. Until then, I want every man
on lookout.”

“For what?” Rigo asked.
“For an assassin.”
“Have you run into an old enemy?”
Blac shook his head and ushered her to the hatch. “No, it wasn’t me they were after.”
“But who knew we were here? Who even knew we were coming?”
Blac whipped back around toward Rigo. “That’s just it. No one knew but our own crew.”

Eleven

The door to the cabin clicked shut behind them. Sunlight danced through the half-closed draperies

and shed little light into the dim cabin. Two warm hands closed over Angel’s upper arms and pulled her
around to face Blac. “Are you all right?”

She nodded before impulsively seeking comfort in his arms. He felt so right. He wrapped her up

without a word and she closed her eyes. Couldn’t she just stay here? Where it’s safe?

Ending their embrace, he led her to the table and urged her onto the mahogany surface. “Let me tend

that wound.”

An awkward silence filled the air as he hesitated before moving to stand between her thighs. He

yanked the fabric of her sleeve off and tossed the tattered piece to the floor. His hot fingers seared her
skin as he examined the wound. The warmth of his breath blew across her shoulder and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No.”
His slate grey eyes lifted to her face then dropped to her mouth. Awareness rippled through her. He

cleared his throat and returned his attention to the wound. “’Tis only a flesh wound. The bleeding has
already ceased.”

Angel nodded. He would not acknowledge his feelings to her. Not even now.
Why must he fight this so hard?
“So I expect your grandfather to respond by the morning. Are you excited to meet him at all?” His

abrupt change in demeanor and loud voice startled her. She jumped.

“You seem right glad to be rid of me, Barclay. Regrets over your decision to play guardian so

soon?” Bitterness laced her tone. Even she could hear it and it sickened her. She didn’t want to be angry
with him but it sprang from somewhere deep inside.

His hand lifted to her chin. Warmth entered normally cool eyes. “I have no regrets, Angel. Do you?”
Yes. I regret that I couldn’t make you love me.
She gave a soft, sad smile. “It’s a little late for regrets, isn’t it?”
Silence descended between them as he cleaned the wound and bandaged it up. Heat radiated from

his large body and seemed to encase her in its cocoon. His actions were efficient, quick but gentle.

Done with his task he peered down at her. He studied her face as if he was searching for some kind

of answer. “I miss your smile, Angel. Have you lost it for good?”

Pain wracked her entire being. For once, she couldn’t mask the hurt inside. Tears blurred her vision

and her chin trembled. “You ask for too much, Barclay. My smile died the day my father was taken
prisoner. If you want my smile to return, then bring him back to me.”

Or fall in love me, whichever comes first.
He stepped back but his gaze didn’t waver. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”One

corner of his mouth lifted a fraction. “It hasn’t been all that long ago since I lost my own parents.”

Heaviness settled in her chest. He had lost so much as well. “I know,” she whispered.
“I was angry with my father for a while. He just drank away his life and to hell with everything

else.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “That’s why I can’t allow myself to lose control. I don’t want be like
him. Ever. I take my responsibilities seriously. I have to. Otherwise, I’ll end up just like my old man.”

Angel gasped. “No, you could never be like him, Blac. I — I never meant it like that when I said

you had to control everything.”

“Well, now you know why,” he murmured. “But I loved him. The man he once was. The man who

once spent his every waking moment with his sons. My brother and I had always come first with him.
That’s the man I most respected. That’s the man I want to be. My responsibilities are important, because
my family and my word to my family are important. And your father is like family to me. He was so much

like my own father...how could I ever turn my back on a man who loves his daughter so much he’d give up
his own life for her?”

Tears traced twin paths down her cheeks and a hand squeezed her heart at those words. Blac loved

her father. As much as she did, she suspected. And he was right, her father had surrendered in order to
better her life...not because he’d wanted to betray her, but because he loved her.

And she’d been too selfish to see the truth in that. Regret and guilt ate at her insides. How childish

her actions seemed to her now. If she’d just trusted in her father and Blac as well, she would never have
been placed in danger. They had only had good intentions, and she had punished them both for it with her
anger.

“My father once loved me that way...” Blac whispered.
“He still does,” she said, reaching for him but he drew back.
“No, he turned his back on us. But I promise you...I won’t turn my back on you.”
Angel sobbed at his confession. She understood now why he fought her so hard. How could she

make him love her when he believed he would betray her father and turn out like his own?

“I don’t know how you did it, but I am no longer the same man I was. Years ago, I would have

never imagined turning my back on your father, Angel. But the temptation to do just that grows harder
every day. I never would have believed myself capable of that.” He moved closer and lowered his lips
until they stood a breath apart. “I will never again look at another woman without remembering your
sweet smile.”

He captured her mouth, his lips soft, searching. He didn’t bombard or seek to control. Instead, he

offered her the chance to take the lead and she gladly accepted. She deepened the kiss and reveled in the
texture of his tongue. He tasted of the sea, salt, and rum. Bitter and sweet.

But before she could truly enjoy this gift he gave of himself he pulled away. His warm palms

cupped her cheeks and he kissed each of her eyelids. The warmth of his breath blew across her face and
tickled her lashes.

“Nothing has changed, Angel. I still mean to carry out my plan. Your father wanted you married to a

good man, and I mean to see that through.” He crossed the room and cracked open the door. “Even if I
have to force myself to let you go.”

~*~

“You coward.”
Blac whipped around at those whispered words, one hand still gripping the doorknob. Fury etched

sharp lines across her brow and her jaw clamped tight against more words.

He drew himself up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She gasped at the dismissal. “No? You think I’m too young to understand how I feel? How you feel

about me? And how afraid you are of it?”

Blac slammed the door closed again. “Angel,” he started, but gritted his teeth together. “We’ve had

this conversation before. We’re not having it again.”

Angel launched herself against him, and a small fist pounded on his back as he turned to leave. Blac

whirled, seized her by the arms, and shook her, but she was beyond comprehension. Tears coursed down
her cheeks and she shrieked out her anger.

“You’re a coward! A yellow-bellied coward, afraid to face the fact that you love me.”
“Stop it!” he commanded. “Angel, get a hold on yourself.”
“Why should I? You’re just going to ship me off, anyway!”
She yanked from his embrace, turned, and retrieved the book from the table, hurling it at his head.

Blac ducked. A roar of fury escaped him as he stalked toward her.

“It’s for the best.”
“For who?” she shouted. “For you? So you can ease your conscience? Get rid of me so you’re no

longer tempted to do anything irrational? Who really benefits here?”

“You’re being absurd.”
“And you’re being an obtuse, pig-headed, uncaring bastard who only thinks of himself.”
Angel skittered around the table and picked up the inkwell.
“Angel,” Blac warned. “Don’t even think about it.”
Too late. The container soared past him and ink spattered across his shirt and face. He gritted his

teeth. I’m going to strangle her. With pleasure.

With a single swipe, Blac wiped away the fluid and he was certain it smeared across his cheek. It

would take days to wear off his skin. Angel ceased crying, her eyes widened to saucers, and then she
giggled at his appearance.

Why her laughter sent him over the edge he did not know, but he dove over the table, sliding across

its surface. Angel gasped and ran. Blac bounded for her and together they fell to the floor.

She struggled face-down against him. He crawled up her body and pinned her to the floor with his

weight. And his body caught fire. His arms wrapped around her and his mouth sought and found the niche
under her ear.

Her quick intake of breath told him she hadn’t expected that. But the wiggle of her rear against him

shot a curl of heat through him, and he was lost.

She twisted toward him and their mouths fused together in a battle of wills. With their lips still

melded, he lifted off her enough for her roll onto her back. Their bodies came back together like a clap of
thunder, and he strained against her as if he could crawl into her.

How could life be so cruel to place the woman of my dreams within reach when I am not allowed

to touch her?

He should not touch her. But he did. He should not hold her. But he did.
The kisses turned languid, searching. He savored the flavor of her and sought to arouse rather than

conquer. He licked, nipped, and sucked at her lips. His tongue delved into her mouth and dueled with
hers. “What do you do to me?” he whispered against her mouth. His gaze moved to her extraordinary
blue-green eyes. He saw little fear, only an eagerness he couldn’t resist.

Her heavy-lidded eyes watched him carefully. “I believe you are the one working the magic here,

Barclay.”

He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit with care. “There is no magic here, Angel. Just

pure— ” his tongue licked a path to her chin— “unbridled —” he whispered, making his way to her ear
only to whisper once more — “passion.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him close. A sorceress, she inflamed every nerve in

his body and ripped asunder his every defense.

I can’t fight this anymore. He was defeated, his promise a memory now.
He ravaged her mouth, a kiss fraught with need too long denied. And she gave as good as she got.

Slender fingers clawed at his back and neck as she pulled him closer. Her body arched into him,
wrapping him into her embrace.

Heat exploded inside him and blood pulsed through his veins. His body caught fire. With every

press of her skin, he burned.

He wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman. Did she know how much she affected him?

Would she ever guess at the depth of emotion she’d evoked in him? Would she ever know how much he
cared?

He ground his body against her and reeled at the sensation. She fit perfectly. Impatiently, he tore at

the strings of her shirt until the gaping fabric revealed her breasts. And he devoured the offerings with
both his hands and his mouth. Perfect. It was the only word to describe her body.

His heartbeat roared in his ears. His tongue laved at the tips as if he was starved for the sounds she

made. And she did not disappoint. Tiny, whispered pleas and heavy panting answered his unspoken
request.

He squeezed the opposite mound before moving on to lavish it with his attention. She lifted her hips

against him, and need pulsed through his sex. Her breathy moans tormented him, drawing him across a
sensual torture rack, wreaking havoc with his senses.

The tempest between them fused and they drew from each other breath, passion, and need.
Sharp claws dug into the skin of his neck and his body roared to life. He arched against her softness

and plundered her mouth.

Her eagerness inflamed him and he didn’t want to rush it, but control slipped from his grasp. She

met him halfway and urged him on. Her persistence ignited something carnal inside him and drove him
past whatever resistance he’d had left.

Do not lose control.
But his body didn’t listen as it strained toward that summit, ready to hurl itself off into the abyss

below.

Blood pounded in his ears. He sucked air into his lungs. Need thrummed through his veins.
He needed to slow the pace. If he lost all control, he would ravish her and wreck her innocence.

And he’d never forgive himself if that were to happen.

He wanted to calm the storm, to enjoy the journey, but she would have none of that. Panting against

her lips he whispered, “Slow down, let me love you.”

His voice seemed to soothe her and the kisses gentled. His hand rose and caressed her cheek. She

was like a storm, raging and thundering until the touch of his hand calmed her to a slow drizzle. He kissed
her cheek and then her lips. “I need you like I’ve never needed anyone before.”

And it scares me to death.

~*~

Angel’s thoughts scattered and trickled in her mind like a thousand mirrored pieces twinkling in the

dark. Unable to form a complete, coherent sentence, she snapped her mouth closed.

“Look at me,” Blac demanded.
Her eyes fluttered open and his intense stare caressed every angle of her face as if he were

imprinting it to memory. He gave a soft smile. “You are beautiful.”

Pleasure warmed her cheeks. “You are biased.”
“I am honest.”
She brought his mouth to hers. His tongue intertwined with hers and danced inside her mouth. She

sighed as he trailed his searing lips across her jaw to her neck.

He retraced his path to her breasts and heat smoldered between her thighs. She wiggled against him,

trying to ease the ache and he groaned, closing his eyes. She smiled and lifted her hips against him, testing
the newfound sensual boundaries.

Again he made a tortured sound. “You’re killing me,” he whispered.
“And you love it.”
He continued his foray between her breast to her stomach, and tingles skittered through her body.

Ecstasy washed over her as his tongue dipped into each crevice and traced every line of her figure.

His dark hair fanned against her belly and sent another ripple of pleasure through her. Her fingers

entwined in his hair and grazed his scalp. He settled between her thighs more fully and his hot breath
teased her skin.

Angel clamped her legs closed against his odd assault. His hands glided down each thigh and he

whispered incoherent words against her flesh. It didn’t matter what he said, but the glorious brush of
breath on her skin caused goose flesh to rise. She shivered.

“Let me love you, Angel. Let me in.”

His gentle words calmed her, and she relaxed. Soft lips tasted her inner knees and licked a path

toward her center. Her heart pattered to a stop. Surely, he wouldn’t...

But he did. His tongue sought and found her smoldering center to tease the hidden bud within the

folds. Angel gasped, jumped, but his hands eased her back to the floor.

Rapture closed her eyes and excitement dampened her skin. She panted as he continued his

titillating torment until her body tightened.

He rose over her and divested himself of his clothes. Glorious. Male perfection. And it was within

reach. How many times had she imagined this very moment?

Poised above her, he chanted her name between kisses. Angel opened to him and his body slid

against her. Curious, she reached between them.

Shameless, she palmed him. Awed by the pulsing flesh in her grip, Angel’s eyes widened. Blac

ground his teeth together. His face scrunched as if in pain. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“In a good way...” His voice sounded raspy and raw.
Angel stroked him, his head falling back on his shoulders. Intrigued, she pushed him over and

climbed on top of him. His hands kneaded her thighs and he groaned as she tortured him.

Just as she leaned down to get a better view, he rose to scoop her into his arms and then carried her

to the bunk. He tossed her down and before his body slid over hers, Angel’s intake of breath turned into a
sigh.

Angel arched until the tips of her breasts brushed against the muscled chest lingering above her and

reveled in the feel of the brush of skin on skin.

His fingertips painted sensation across her flesh, and she trembled beneath his touch. He had

mastered the art of the caress. And she gloried under his skilled hands. His very touch cast her over the
edge of sanity and into an abyss of madness. She wished he would ease the pleasure-ache gripping her.

Her body coiled. Arched. Eager for release and afraid of it at the same time.
She murmured his name and gripped his forearms. He spread her thighs and settled between them.

He ground his hardness against her and her legs embraced him, urging him on.

The head of his shaft lingered at her portal and she wiggled closer, needing something only he could

give. He eased into her and she gasped at the fullness.

At his pause, she panted. “More,” she whispered.
A pained expression crossed his face. “We have to go slow...it’s your first time.”
Angel shook her head. “I don’t want it slow.” With her legs entwined around him in a vise and her

hands gripping his buttocks, he plunged to the hilt inside her.

The slightest twinge of discomfort tore through her but vanished. She squirmed, seeking something

she could not name, and Blac groaned. He moved inside her, streaks of fire rushed from her hot center and
radiated through her body.

She opened eagerly and the shock of discovery disappeared, giving way to the thrill of sensation.

He thrust and his hard body brushed against her, accompanied by her frantic plea.

Both of his hands sought her breasts as he pumped within her and tension coiled in her core. She

rose off the mattress in a taut arch, her body straining like a bow. Frantically she clawed at his shoulders
and then his hips. He growled against her mouth before seizing her lips in a shattering kiss.

Angel crested some unknown precipice as her eyes fluttered closed. Brilliant lights exploded

behind her lids as he wrung every drop of ecstasy from her flesh. He lifted her hips to change the angle of
penetration and Angel found herself seeking that unnamed peak once again. Her body clenched and
contracted, eliciting a roar from his lips. He pounded against her. Trembling and senseless, she could
only hang on until the convulsions ceased.

He sank onto her, his back drenched in sweat and lay against her body, unable to draw a deep

breath. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, engulfing him in the sweetest warmth she could offer. She

smiled.

He belonged to her now. Would he realize this?
She kissed the top of his head and closed her eyes. Contentment washed away the doubts. She

glanced down at him and chuckled. He brought his eyes to her face. “What is it?”

Her fingers traced the blackened ink smeared across his cheek. “I believe I marked my territory.”
He grinned and reached up to her cheek. “It’s all right. I returned the favor.”
She smiled. “So we’re a matched pair?”
He kissed her and traced her mouth with his tongue. “Haven’t we always been?”

Twelve

Twilight gave a lavender haze to the landscape and the swish of gentle waves against the hull

provided a serenity to the moment. Angel stretched languidly and found Blac standing before the gallery
windows. Bare-chested, with his arms crossed, he peered out at the incredible picturesque scene beyond.

He was so handsome.
Blac faced her and ambled to the bunk. He leaned over with one hand on either side of her hips to

kiss his way from her chest to her neck. She smiled deliciously and wrapped her arms around his neck,
dragging him on top of her. How perfectly he fit.

Angel traced the now dried ink smeared across his cheek and chuckled. He smiled and rubbed their

matching smudged cheeks together. “Do we look so horrible?” she asked.

“Does it really matter what anyone else thinks?”
She grinned. “No.”
He eased to the side and cupped her face in his palm. “Then I wouldn’t worry my pretty head over

it.” She leaned into his hand, and warmth spread through her. This feels so right.

“Did you sleep well, my angel?” His deep tone soothed her.
She nodded. “Did you?”
He sighed. “Better than I ever have in my life.” He rose and sat on the edge of the mattress. “But

we’ve little time to ready for your grandfather. He should be here late this morning.”

Angel gasped and sat up. “What do you mean?” She scrambled up onto her knees. “You can’t mean

to send me with him after—”

Blac swiveled to face her. “After last night? Why not? I told you nothing would change.”
A quick stab of pain and disbelief shattered her composure. Tears filled her eyes and her lip

quivered. She clamped her jaw tight to keep from crying in front of him. He still meant to send her away,
even after everything they’d shared. How could he say nothing had changed, when everything had changed
for her?

Blac shoved to his feet, anger mottling his features. “This is the best place for you to be during this,

Angel. I won’t have to worry about you if you’re with your grandfather. This discussion is over.”

Stunned, Angel placed a hand over the ache in her heart as he stomped out the door and slammed it

shut. Seconds passed and she couldn’t move. Then she crumbled to the bed and sobbed. All her visions of
growing old with Blac vanished, shattered like a million shards of crystal.

Two hours later, a knock on the door brought her off the bunk.
“Your grandfather is here, Miss Angel.” Rigo’s voice came from the other side.
Pain spliced her heart in two. She would be leaving Blac without even saying goodbye.
Angel dragged herself from the bed and changed into her wrinkled clothes from the day prior.

Glancing into the mirror, her red-rimmed eyes blinked back at her and she reached up to finger the ink-
smudged cheek. Briefly, she traced the mark, and memories of the night before assaulted her. Bitterness
furrowed her brow and wiped the memory from her mind. She refused to cry over him again.

Combing her fingers through her hair, she headed top-side. The crew scurried across the planks,

performing their chores, and barely glanced at her. Rigo stood by the gangplank to help her down.

The sun glinted off the black, lacquered carriage on the dock. The door stood open and revealed the

blue velvet seats inside, as well as the well-tailored legs of her grandfather, who sat inside the vehicle.
Blac stood at the bottom of the gangplank with both hands propped on his hips. As handsome as ever. But
this time she must ignore that. He faced her but she walked right by him with a cursory glance.

He spoke her name but she refused to acknowledge him.
“Angel,” he said. “I don’t know if you should go...he hasn’t even given the courtesy of leaving the

vehicle.”

“Then you won’t mind when I join him there.”
It’s a little late for second thoughts now. Even if I wished to stay, you’ve made it clear I’ll never

have what I truly desire from you. There is no place for me here now.

She reached the carriage and the footman helped her inside. She leaned back out, catching sight of

Blac. His brows were drawn together, his jaw set hard, and his mouth tightened into a firm line. His anger
was a palpable thing. Too little, too late for regrets, Blac.

She blew him a kiss from the doorway just as she’d done so long ago aboard the Serpent’s Lady.

His eyes widened before they narrowed. He started forward, but she slammed the door shut, tapping the
top of the vehicle to let the driver know she was ready.

They lurched forward and she sat back, her eyes finally resting on her grandfather. Piercing blue

eyes met her gaze and she frowned. He stared raptly at her, but there was little emotion on his face. A
long white periwig covered his head and both of his hands settled stiffly atop a gold-handled cane. White,
billowing sleeves protruded from the coat sleeves and a single, jewel-encrusted ring glinted on his finger.

A nervous flutter in her stomach alerted her to something being amiss. She attempted a smile to ease

the tension. “Grandfather.”

“Angel.” He paused. “You look like your mother.”
She clasped and unclasped her hands nervously. “So I’ve been told.”
He frowned at her attire. “Of course, she wore proper dresses and didn’t bandy about, half-dressed

with ink smudged on her face. You’re a mite filthy, dear girl.” His tone boomed across the coach and
battered her self-confidence.

Angel glanced down at her wrinkled breeches and shirt. Raising her chin, she would never change

who she was. This may have been what her father wished for her, but he didn’t always know what was
best for the best. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here. Her grandfather would accept her for who she was, or
he wouldn’t. It was up to him.

She smiled tightly. “Indeed.”
The rest of the ride went by in silence, broken only by the rhythm of the clomping hooves on

cobbled stones. They didn’t arrive at her grandfather’s home until well after dusk had fallen. Midnight
hues coated the sky in a multitude of different shades. Swirls of sapphire set against the navy backdrop
and enhanced the brilliant profusion of stars.

Angel had slept most of the way and yawned as she entered the front door of the house, behind her

grandfather. The heavily-carved oak door opened to reveal the high-ceilinged majestic entryway. The
domelike ceiling was painted with murals of cherubs and angels, along with a detailed artwork of the
planets. Thick, heavily carved molding traced the ceiling edge, and the front round-table was topped with
an incredible display of lilies. The arrangement was so large, it dominated the area.

Angel had never seen such luxury before. Her grandfather instructed his staff to care for her, just

before he turned to her. Those piercing eyes studied her. “This was one of your mother’s favorite rooms.
She used to lie on the floor to study the paintings on the ceiling. The angels were her favorite.” He
coughed into his hand and headed for the carved stairwell. “It’s probably why she named you Angel.”

An ache settled deep in her chest as she imagined her young mother lying on the floor, daydreaming.

She almost smiled.

He turned on the bottom stair. “She was a delightful child who grew into a headstrong young lady.

She betrayed her family and left behind everyone who ever loved her. Your grandmother died from the
grief of her loss. She never forgave me.” He moved up one more step. “I see that you are much like your
mother. Perhaps one day you can tell me how she lived so that I may learn to forgive her.”

The white-haired man climbed the stairs and a mix of confusion and empathy for him assaulted her.

He’d loved her mother. She could tell. But having lost both women in his life had soured his disposition.

The maid ushered her up the stairs to her room. It wasn’t as lavish or beautiful as the rest of the

house, but it was pretty. Dark-panels lined the bottom half of the walls and the top half was covered by
blue-flowered paper. Comfortable. Even the white and blue coverlet beckoned her to get cozy.

She settled on the cobalt settee and leaned back, propping her feet up. She had no baggage, no

clothes other than the ones she wore, and no money to get more. She sighed. She would be completely
dependent on her grandfather if she stayed here.

Melancholy set in, and she wondered how her father was. Was he even still alive? How had she

failed so miserably? Being here in this house reminded her of her mother. The image of blue-green eyes
and soft hands came to her again. Her mother would stroke her hair every night till Angel lay soundless,
asleep. It was the only memory she had left. She’d just turned five when her mother had contracted the
fever from childbirth and died. Along with the child she had born.

From that day forward, her father had taken her mother’s place for her. He’d stroked her hair each

night until she’d fallen asleep. He’d nurtured and cared for her. It was hard to imagine such a large man
being so gentle. Her own gentle giant, and she missed him dreadfully.

Angel stood and looked about the room. Refusing to wallow in her misery, she opened the drawer

of the dresser. Rummaging through it, she found a multitude of old letters, an old, dried-up quill, and a
letter opener. She shut the drawer and opened the next one, only finding a few old cravats.

She leaned back against the drawer and closed it. There was trunk at the foot of the bed and an

armoire. She closed the distance and opened the double doors. Two hands reached out of the hanging
clothes to wrap around her throat.

Desperate, she clasped the hands and together they moved backwards until they reached the wall.

The cloaked figure was taller than her, and his hands squeezed her neck until the air completely closed
off.

Who the hell wants me dead?
She blinked as spots danced before her vision, and she brought a single knee up into the man’s

groin. He groaned and leaned forward. She slammed his head into the paneling, splintering the wood.

Searching for a weapon, she ran out of time as he regained his footing and crashed into her. They

landed on the floor with a loud thud and he attempted to pin both her arms down. His hood had long since
come free, and she stared into coal-black eyes. Angel reared up, smacking the bridge of his nose with her
forehead and put a foot into his stomach to fling him off.

She scrambled to her feet, heading for the dresser. One of his hands clutched her ankle and yanked

her down. She fell, kicking out with her other foot and struck him in the nose again. He howled, blood
spattering across the floor.

Angel made it to the dresser and opened it. But the force of his weight as he slammed into her, took

the breath from her. A dagger appeared at her throat. She stalled. Her breath rushed out of her lungs, and
she swallowed. Fear inched its way up her spine to settle deep into the pit of her stomach.

“He said ye wouldn’t fight back. I was supposed to kill ye quiet-like.”
“Who hired you?”
He chuckled and tightened his grip on the knife, lifting her chin a notch. “Ye think I’m gonna tell ye

that?”

Her hand found the opened drawer and searched for the letter opener, but instead found the quill.
“Ye know, he didn’t say ye’d be so young.” His hot, soured breath brushed her ear and she cringed.

“Or pretty.” The man pressed his lower body against her rear and she almost gagged. He smelled like
rotten fish and musky bodies.

A whimper escaped her and tears threatened to fall. Please, not this.
He licked her ear and she recoiled. With a single move, she drove the end of the quill into his eye.

Blood streaked across the side of her face, and he released her with a howl to grab his eye. She reached
into the drawer, found the letter opener and pierced the soft flesh of his neck. He dropped to his knees.

With one last gurgle, blood oozed between his fingers and from his mouth as he toppled face-down on the
floor.

Angel sucked in air and wiped the blood from her face. Tears burned her eyes as she searched the

room for anyone else. Her heart thundered inside her chest. Certain there weren’t any other assassins, she
sat on the settee and caught her breath.

Why would anyone want her dead? And how had anyone known she would be here?
She had to get back to Blac somehow. She couldn’t stay in this house. There would be others when

whoever wanted her dead figured out his assassin had failed.

She leapt to her feet, tore the dagger from the man’s dead hand, and slipped it into her waistband.

She cracked the door and peered out. Nothing stirred. Easing the door open, she stepped out and followed
the wall to the stairs. Still no movement.

Just before she reached the top step, a picture on the wall caught her attention. She stopped. Moving

closer she peered at the face and dread flowed over her.

Why would her grandfather have a picture of the lieutenant in his house?

Thirteen

Angel yanked the picture from the wall and strode down the hall with purpose. She opened every

door until she found her grandfather’s room.

The door banged against the wall and stuck into the paneling. He sat upright in his bed reading a

book. Piercing blue eyes peered over the edge of the book at her before he laid it across his stomach.

She crossed the room and tossed the picture onto the bed. “Why is the lieutenant’s picture on your

wall?”

He wasn’t bewigged and his short, white hair stood on end atop his head. His eyes captured all her

attention. They were direct, intelligent. Even at his age, her grandfather was a force to be reckoned with.

“What is it about his picture that you don’t like?”
Angel sighed. “You’re being obtuse and you know it.”
A flicker of something— malevolence and violence — shone in his eyes, and Angel hesitated.

Civility returned to his composure and he actually smiled. “Come, Angel, and I will explain all.”

Unease niggled in the back of her mind, but curiosity won. She eased onto the foot of the bed and

waited.

He tapped out an annoying rhythm on the hard cover of the book with his index fingers. The slow,

calculated tempo seemed to draw out the seconds. A gold ring on his left hand winked under the muted
firelight. Tap, tap, tap, tap. The motion of his fingers almost mesmerized her.

He finally broke the silence. “Your mother was a good girl. She married soon after she turned

sixteen to the Viscount Worthington. Once I helped get rid of that imposter she was infatuated with. It was
a good marriage.”

Angel gasped, recognizing the name and tore her attention away from his hands. “For whom? It was

my understanding that my mother hated her first husband. He beat her and locked her in her rooms day in
and day out. Who would consider such a marriage a success?”

He pursed his lips at her interruption and stopped the movement of his fingers. “Nevertheless, she

had married and her course was set. She was on a ship bound for England to join her husband there when
she was captured by De’Haviland.”

Bitterness laced his words, and the sharp blue eyes narrowed to thin slits. “The viscount’s first

wife died in childbirth with her second son.”

The obvious pause told her there was a riddle in that sentence somewhere and then it dawned on

her. “The lieutenant is the viscount’s first son.”

He nodded. “The boy grew to love your mother fiercely, because she was the only mother he’d ever

known. And he was incoherently upset after Elizabeth’s capture. In fact, he became obsessed with the
details over the years.”

Realization hit her and Angel’s eyes widened. “He’s trying to kill me?”
He shook his head. “Do not be absurd. He does not wish your death, by any means.” Regarding her

with hooded eyes, he studied her. “Although he does seek your company — for what, I’ve no idea.”

Awareness washed over her. A prickling of the hair on the back of her neck caused her to ease to

her feet. Her hands grew cold and she asked, “How would you know that?”

Her grandfather smiled and continued the irritating drumming. The rhythm matched the pacing of her

heart. It seemed everything slowed until her heart beat each second by. “Charles was just here the other
day, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh?”
“You see, let me be honest here and tell you that the lieutenant has me by the ballocks at the

moment. As you must know, James the Second had forfeited his crown back in ’89. His daughter, Mary
the Second, and her husband William have become joint rulers of England.”

“What has that to do with me?”
“I am a staunch supporter of his son, James Francis Edward, and as such, I have helped fund the

rebellion rising against Mary and William. It’s the whole reason I came to this damned, forsaken jungle
island. The money from the plantation funds the rebellion, but conceals my real purpose, smuggling in
weapons and ammunition to the rebellion leaders.” The drumming stopped and he inclined his head. “The
lieutenant knows of my secret affairs and now I’m in a quandary. He’s promised to keep silent if I give
him what he wants.”

An alarm went off in her head and she stepped away from the bed, right into the waiting arms

behind her. They closed over her and she screamed. She turned at the deep chuckle at her ear. A pair of
close-set, hazel eyes and a large, hawk-like nose greeted her. Angel sucked in a breath and her heart
thudded inside her chest. With a fierce growl, Angel bit down on the offending snout until she tasted
blood. The assassin’s howl rent the bedchamber. The man released her and she jabbed an elbow into his
ribs, doubling him over.

She swung her foot in an arc and connected with his head. The man fell to the floor unconscious,

and her grandfather moved as if to get out of the bed. With a simple move, she flung the dagger. It landed
in the headboard next to his head and vibrated from the impact. His eyes widened to saucers, and he fell
back against the headboard, clutching his chest.

“You will find I am not as easy to deceive as my mother was. I already knew what a spiteful, old

man you were before my arrival.”

Angel didn’t wait to see what he did next. She fled out the door and down the hall to the darkened

stairs. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her moist palms gripped the railing behind her. Nothing
inside the house moved as she descended the stairs. Not even the shadows.

She reached the last step and paused to peer around the room. Sweat beaded across her brow and

trickled down her temple. Her breath quickened. The left side of the stairwell was lit and to the right,
darkness enshrouded the house. Angel blended in to the shadows and made her way to the back of the
house. If there were any other attackers, they would expect her to exit out the front door.

The room enclosed into a hallway and after several turns, Angel began to panic. Why had she left?

Even Blac had told her something was wrong but she hadn’t listened to him. Oh Blac, I need you.

Once again, her impulsiveness had landed her in a heap of trouble. Once again, she’d refused to

trust those who knew better, and this was the result. When would she learn not to think with her heart and
instead listen to what her instincts told her?

Entering the library, she found a door leading to the terrace. She gripped the brass knob and eased it

open. Soundlessly, she crossed the stone veranda and leapt over the rail, running toward the stable.

The sliver of moon hung by a thread in the sky and aided her escape. Moonlight inched through the

canopy of trees overhead and provided ample shadows to move through.

She didn’t sense anyone in the darkened stables. Carefully, she entered through the rear. She

removed the bridle from the peg and a blanket off the stall. The saddle sat against the wall on the floor.
She moved past it to the first stall. A brown, little mare eyed her in the front stall and she opened the
door. She stroked the mare’s muzzle and whispered softly to her. Slipping the bridle on, she led the horse
out.

After sliding the blanket on, she worked quickly to fasten the trappings on the saddle. Minutes later,

she emerged from the stable at a full-out gallop. Now she just needed to find her way to the docks and
locate Blac’s ship. The problem with that was she had no clue which way to go.

~*~

Blac paced the floor in his cabin and went over the day’s events in his head. He sipped the brandy

in his glass, stopped, and twirled the liquid.

He leaned on the desk beside the book Angel had flung at his head the other day. Memories

assaulted him. He shouldn’t have let her go. He shouldn’t have brought her here. She’s fine . Her
grandfather will look after her. Then why did sudden doubts creep in?

Something gnawed at him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, and it drove him to distraction. Forcing

himself to go about his day, making plans to depart on the morrow had been impossible. He’d ordered
Rigo to ready the ship hours ago. So why worry now?

“Why don’t you just go get her, Captain?”
He looked up. Rigo stood in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe.
Blac shook his head. “She’ll be all right.”
“Then why are you worried about her?”
Rigo’s knowing, dark eyes studied him from under the dark wings of his brows. Though only a few

years younger, Rigo was wise beyond his years. Blac had searched his entire life to find his nook in the
world, whereas his quartermaster had just sort of been handed his lot in life. Blac didn’t know Rigo’s
beginnings, but he sensed life had never been easy for the Spaniard.

After running into Rigo in Jamaica, Blac had sensed he might be a runaway slave. He’d hired him

aboard his ship over a decade ago and never regretted the decision.

“I’m not worried.” He set the snifter glass on the table and rounded the corner. “I’m simply trying to

sort my thoughts.”

Rigo chuckled. “Try telling that to someone who doesn’t know you, Blac.” He moved into the room

and took a seat in the straight-backed chair. “Now what’s on your mind?”

Blac shook his head again. “Nothing. I don’t know. Something isn’t right. A feeling...I can’t put my

finger on it.” He strode across the room, picked up the brandy and refilled his glass. Blac lifted the bottle.
“How about a round?”

“Sure.” Rigo crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back in the chair. “You think something’s

wrong then?”

Blac poured the amber liquid into the glass and leaned over to hand it to his quartermaster. “I don’t

know exactly. I only know that she’s still my responsibility, Rigo, and I’ve no control over what happens
to her while she’s not in my presence.”

“And that bothers you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Blac shook his head, his brows furrowed. “Someone shot at her, and we never did find the culprit.

What if—”

“Then do something about it. Go get the chit. But make a decision. Take her with you, or let her stay

here.”

Blac whirled around to face him. “I’ve made my decision.” His tone was harsh enough to surprise

even himself. “She’s gone. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

Without another thought, he set the drink down and headed for the door. “But you’re right I have to

go over there, if only to say goodbye.”

Hours later, his horse lathered from the punishing ride, Blac arrived at the Aubrey Manor. All the

windows were dark and a prickling sensation crawled up his neck. Something terrible had happened.

Blac left the horse out front and didn’t bother knocking. The door swung open too easily and after

he called out, no one answered. He moved through the entry and up the stairs. Every room in the house lay
in shadows, save for the two rooms at the end of the hall. Blac paused outside the first room. The door
stood ajar. He pushed it open. The dresser drawers were opened, its contents spilled across the surface.
The bed coverlet had been pulled half off and the ottoman was toppled over.

Blood spatters dotted the mirror behind the dresser and the wall. And across the floor at the foot of

the bed was a dead body. Blac moved forward. A letter opener protruded from the man’s neck and blood

pooled under him.

Blac shot to his feet and strode down the hall, slamming open the door. Nigel, Angel’s grandfather,

sat upright in bed, his head tilted at an odd angle. He was dead, Blac could already tell, for his chest
didn’t move.

He’d turned on his heel but a crash brought him back around. A dark, cloaked figure exited the room

through the opened window. Blac raced after the figure and peered down. The man scrambled down the
trellis to the ground. Blac swung one leg over the frame and ducked out the window. Climbing down, he
made it half-way. But the man was already on the ground.

If the bastard thought he would get away so easily, he was mistaken. Blac leapt the rest of the way,

landed on his feet, and rolled. Agilely, he gained his footing and ran. They cornered the house, the man
headed for the side yard.

Blac increased his stride and within seconds caught up. He reached out but couldn’t quite catch him,

so Blac dove. His arms wrapped around the figure and they crashed to the ground.

A bone-jarring crunch had Blac wincing just before the man’s elbow cracked into his chin. The

figure scrambled to his feet, but Blac’s hand shot out and seized an ankle. With a quick yank, the assassin
toppled back to the ground. Blac scrambled over him and a blow to the face disoriented the assailant
enough he ceased to struggle. “Where is she?”

The desperate eyes sought escape. Another jab to the already bloody nose brought forth a howl.

“Where is the girl?”

“I d-don’t know. I passed out cold, so she got away!”
“Good.” Blac pinioned the man with his legs and bashed his head against the ground until the man

was out cold. “Too bad you won’t.”

He trussed him up inside the house by the front door, hoping someone would find him. Now he

needed to find Angel. So where would she go? The only answer he could come up with was back to the
ship.

He didn’t make it back to the docks until the sun’s early rays fingered across the horizon in soft

pastels. Pinks, yellows, and blues chased the navy blue of night away. Blac raced up the gangplank and
shouted to get everyone up. He relayed the night’s events to his crew and had everyone search the ship
and the surrounding docks. “Until she’s found,” he demanded.

The door to his cabin crashed open and the morning light filtered in through the gallery windows

spilling across the floor. And then he saw her, crouched beside the bunk bed, shivering.

Blac didn’t hesitate. He gathered her into his arms and she burst into tears on his shoulder. He

rocked her, holding her tight against his chest. “Everything’s all right now, Angel. I’m here now.” He
whispered the words against the shell of her ear.

She sniffled and snuggled deeper into his neck. A huge sigh of relief escaped him and he tightened

his hold. “I thought I’d lost you.” Fear released its hold on his heart with a weary sigh. He squeezed her.
“I promise I’ll never let you go again.”

And he realized now how true those words were.

Fourteen

Blac trailed a single digit down Angel’s arm to her hip, following its curve with his eyes as she lay

on her side next to him. She smiled and snuggled deeper into the nook of his neck.

Two days on board ship, and he’d yet to leave his cabin. Rigo had taken the helm and Blac planned

to enjoy this little reprieve for as long as he could. Of course, tomorrow he would have to end this little
foray into sensuality and return to the ship’s helm. Until then though, he planned to soak in every second.

Sunlight poured into the gallery windows and bathed her skin in a soft, peach haze. The steady rise

and fall of the ship could’ve lulled him to sleep if he hadn’t had other things on his mind at the moment.

The warmth of summer arrived and the heat trapped inside the ship baked them. Their flesh

glistened with moisture from their earlier exertions. Even with every porthole open in the room, the slight
breeze didn’t do anything to alleviate the temperature.

Angel clasped his hand and brought it to her lips to kiss the tip of his finger. His body hardened.

How could she continue to arouse him even after being sated so many times? His finger traced her lower
lip and she sucked it into her mouth.

He gave a playful growl and bent to kiss her. She giggled. “Have I created a monster?” he asked.
She giggled. “Perhaps. Would that be such a bad thing?”
His mouth trailed kisses to her chin. “Ask me again in about an hour.”
She laughed and with both arms, squeezed him. Their bodies made a sucking noise from the

perspiration between them. “So, will you tell me where we’re going already?”

A hand captured a bare breast and he whispered against her ear, “Do we have to discuss it now?”
“Yes.” Her mouth gave a pretty little pout and he groaned in defeat.
“All right.” He leaned up on one elbow and peered down at her. “Our heading is set for Port

Royal.”

She paused and sat up on both elbows. Her blue-green eyes widened. “Really? Why?”
Blac frowned at the eager expression on her face, and realized he should’ve already told her. He

shouldn’t have kept her guessing this long about his plans. He’d been selfish to let her believe he planned
to allow Logan to rot in a cell. Hindsight made him realize if he’d told her the truth months ago, they
wouldn’t have gone through any of this. But then again, he may not have had her here, in his bed, naked —
how he liked her.

He sat up and propped against the wall. “I had already made plans to return to Port Royal, even

before I’d captured you, Angel.”

She gasped. “Are you saying you’d planned to get my father out all along?”
He nodded.
“Then why didn’t you tell me that?”
He steepled his hands before him. “I don’t know, honestly. Stubbornness. Anger. Bitterness that

you’d managed to outwit me so many times already.”

Angel rose to face him and the sheet fell around her waist. She appeared oblivious to her

nakedness, and he wished he could be so as well. As it were, his gaze strayed to her breasts again and
again.

“And how do you feel now?”
He grinned. “What do you think?”
The little siren gave a knowing grin. “I think you are relatively happy at the moment. And satisfied.”

She leaned over with her little derriere in the air and propped herself up on her elbows on either side of
his waist. Her body pressed against his lower abdomen. He reached down to sweep her hair over her
shoulder.

“I think you’re very right.”

She sat up and laughed. “So how do you plan to get him out?”
“It’s complicated.”
She waved an arm around to indicate her surroundings. “I’ve got time, Blac.”
He sighed. “I plan to use you as bait.”
She frowned. “The lieutenant still has my father?”
He nodded. “He hasn’t even let the King know Logan is in his custody. Which is to our advantage.”
“So we won’t have to deal with the crown.”
“Yes.” He lifted her chin. “But it means you have to do what I say, when I say it. No buts, Angel.

I’m not taking any chances on losing you or having you get hurt. We do this my way or you can forget it.”

She grinned and crawled back up his body to perch her little fanny atop him. “Will I be punished?”
He tried to look stern. “Angel,” he warned. “Do I get an answer?”
But her impish grin won him over and he grasped her by the upper arms to kiss her breathless.
She reached up a soft little hand and caressed his jaw. “I’ll let you know in about an hour.”

~*~

The sails snapped against the wind and the Serpent’s hull rode the choppy waves in a north-

westerly heading. They were two days out to sea.

“Sail ho!” The call came from the crow’s nest. Blac motioned to Rigo. “Four points off the

starboard stern.”

Rigo handed him the spyglass. Blac extended it and peered through the piece. “She’s still several

miles off.”

“Orders?”
“None for now. I want to see which direction she takes. She may or may not have spotted us yet. We

can’t tell her speed, but keep an eye on her.”

Angel finally made an appearance on deck. The spyglass found its way into Rigo’s hand, and Blac

only had eyes for the beautiful woman walking toward him. She wore the simple cotton skirt again, and it
floated around her bare feet. He found it entirely too accessible by far. Thoughts of how easy it would be
take her to his cabin and relieve her of her clothes distracted him.

Her smile radiated from her eyes. The cerulean orbs sparkled. “Good morning, Cap’n. Did you

sleep well?”

“Like the dead,” he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. A pretty, pink color dusted her cheeks

and he grinned. “And how did you sleep?”

She gave him a playful smack on the shoulder and moved into his arms. “Like a baby.” He kissed

the top of her head. She peered up at him. “I missed you this morning.”

“And I, you. But I have a ship to captain, my little pirate, and duty calls.”
A pretty pout turned her lips, which spread into an impish grin instead. He headed them toward the

railing, and they stared out over the expanse of the sea, content with the silence between them.

Her soft sigh broke the peace. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
A sad smile played about her lips, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “I was thinking about all

the times I would watch Papa sail away.”

“Oh?”
“I used to wonder what kept him so often from being home. Sometimes I would wonder if maybe he

didn’t want to come home. But then he would be there, and I could see how happy he was to see me. I’ve
sailed a few times with him when I was much younger, but only to nearby ports, a week away and no
more. He would never allow me to travel much due to the danger.”

She turned in his arms and wrapped her own around his waist. He settled his chin atop her head.
“Now I know what it is that drives men into the waiting arms of the sea.”
He peered down at her. “And what is that?”

“I don’t think I can describe it but while I captained the Serpent, there was a sense of freedom. An

escape. It was the most exhilarating feeling I’ve ever known...well up until recently.”

He grinned. “And what is the most exhilarating feeling you’ve felt now?”
She returned his smile and squeezed him. “I think you know.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
She gave a playful punch to his stomach and then settled deeper into his embrace. “Being here in

your arms ranks pretty high on the list, Blac. I used to pretend you would hold me like this when I was
younger. Of course holding my pillow doesn’t do the feeling justice, honestly.”

He laughed and held her tighter. “I’d have to agree with that statement, little one.”
She smiled. “I miss him though.”
Her confession tore something inside his chest and he kissed the top of her head. “So do I.”
“He used to take me down to see Momma’s grave every Sunday. Right before breakfast as the sun

came over the horizon. We’d walk down the path to the gravesite. I’d place a yellow carnation there, to
signify the sunshine she brought to our lives.”

She turned in his embrace and looked up at him. “But you know, I think Papa started that tradition

long before I can remember it.”

“I’m sure he did.”
“Do you think she knows how much we miss her?”
He nodded. “Oh yes, I’m certain she does.”
She frowned, her little brow scrunched up delightfully. Everything she did intrigued him, and he’d

never felt this way before. It confused and enchanted him, all at the same time.

When she craned her neck to look up at him again, he knelt slightly so that they were eye to eye. “Is

that better?”

She grinned. “You are much too tall.”
“And you are much too tiny. Now tell me what has such a beautiful face frowning so?”
She frowned again. “I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve never spoken of your parents before.”
Blac straightened and turned to place both hands on the rail.
“I see. You’re shutting me out.”
Am I?
He sighed and leaned his forearms on the rail. “Not intentionally, Angel.”
She mimicked his pose. “Then why did you turn from me?”
He frowned. “It was a difficult time in my life, I would just as soon forget.”
One delicate hand wrapped itself around his arm and she pressed her body against him in support.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she whispered.

Surprised, he glanced at her. Most women hounded a man until he relented and told them what they

wanted to hear.

She grinned at his expression. “What? Why so surprised?”
“Most women would never be satisfied with that answer.”
She laughed. “You will tell me when you are ready. Until then, I am content to just be here with

you.”

She moved closer and he wrapped an arm around her. The silence stretched between them but it

wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was the kind of silence one felt in the hush of dawn as the sun first
peaks over the rim of the horizon. A silence born of pleasure. “My father became overwhelmed at the
amount of responsibilities he’d suddenly inherited with the title when I was young,” he admitted. “He
inherited by default after the death of his brother. As the youngest son of the earl, he’d never imagined

he’d find himself suddenly liable for so many people.”

Her hand found his and twined their fingers together. “My parents loved each other very much when

they first wed,” he continued. “But the alcohol and my father’s fear of his duties tore them to pieces. They
fought often and passionately.”

She squeezed his hand and Blac offered a sad smile. “I remember my brother and me hiding in our

room in the armoire. My father got extremely violent and my mother would try to cover or hide her
bruises from everyone. She would stay abed for days sometimes, leaving the nanny to care for us. The
older I grew, the more I came to resent my father.”

He dislodged himself, unsure of why he’d decided to tell her this. “My brother and I grew up early.

We both take our responsibilities seriously, perhaps because our father didn’t. I watched my mother fade
into nothing because of him. After the viscount closed down my father’s small, independent shipping
company, my father’s last chance to right things, he gave up.”

She gasped but he didn’t turn to see her reaction. “He felt like he had no other reason to fight and

struggle anymore. His drinking and gambling wasted away our entire inheritance, and we barely kept
enough food on the table to keep us fed. Our servants left one by one, until we had nothing left.”

He looked her in the eye. “So the day he sent the ransom money to your father is the day he took his

own life. He borrowed the money and then left us — me, to pay the price.” He shook his head. “As the
new Earl, it was left to my brother to take care of the debts but I refused him. I would never allow him to
pay off any debt owed because of me. It took me several years, but the debt was paid in full. So you
understand now why it’s so important for me to do the right thing. Because if I don’t, then I will end up
just like my father. And I refuse to do that.”

She tilted her head to the side and her eyes softened. “And it’s what makes you such a wonderful

man, Blac. It’s exactly the reason why I fell in love with you. I can always count on you.”

He captured her hands and brought them to his lips. He held them tightly for several long minutes

and then placed one over his heart. “It’s also the reason why I can’t fall in love, Angel. I know things
seem so wonderful now and the fairy tale seems so real, but this will fade. And when it’s all said and
done, the only thing you’ll be left with is the shell of the man you fell in love with. And I refuse to watch
you fade into nothingness like I did my mother.”

~*~

Angel watched him walk away from her. The empty feeling in her gut didn’t come from hunger, it

came from defeat. How could she fight the ghosts of his parents? How could she possibly get him to see
that he would never be like his father?

The wind whipped her hair over her shoulder and she wiped the strands from her face. He stopped

on the quarterdeck and exchanged words with Rigo. She frowned. Tension seemed to ebb through the air
and she could sense some kind of change in him. Curiosity got the best of her and she followed him.

Bruno reached out a hand to her arm and shook his head. She frowned. “What? I just want to see

what’s going on.”

Max walked past her on the way to the quarterdeck carrying an armful of maps. “He be the Cap’n

aboard this ship lass, let the man do ‘is job.”

“I wasn’t going to interfere.”
Both men looked at her pointedly.
She sighed. “All right, I’ll just listen. I promise.”
Following Max, she reached the quarterdeck. Rigo pointed to the left. The entire western sky filled

with a churning mass of black clouds. She frowned. They encountered storms quite often, so why the
concern over this one?

Angel squinted. Nothing. Her gaze followed the line of the horizon and then she saw it. A ship

perched atop the ocean’s edge.

“She’s tailed us for two days, Cap’n.”
“What do you think it means?”
Rigo shrugged. “Honestly?” He turned back toward the tiny vessel bearing down on them. “I think

she is in pursuit. Has been ever since we left port.”

Blac peered through the spyglass. “I can’t tell what kind of ship she is.”
“She’s quick, that’s for sure,” said Rigo. “She’s been steadily gaining on us for hours.”
Blac set his jaw, lowered the looking glass and handed it back to Rigo. Max laid out the maps

across the planked deck and together the two of them poured over them. “We’re here, just off the coast of
St. Kitts.”

“So we have another three days before we reach Port Royal.”
“Aye.”
Blac studied the charts for several seconds. He got to his feet. “Full sails, let’s outrun these lice-

infested bilge rats and see what this ship is made of.”

Two hours later, a storm rolled in on top of twenty-foot waves.

The bow wash piled high as the

Serpent’s Revenge cut through the frothy blue waves. Canvas ballooned and they skimmed over the waves
in a north-westerly heading. A wide, growling swath of thundering clouds circled above.

“Lash down everything, Mr. Santiago. We’re in for a long night.”
Blac tracked the approaching storm from the quarterdeck, hands on the wheel. Angel turned to pick

up the unfettered lines but a hand on her upper arm drew her up and around. Blac shook his head at her.
“What do you think you’re doing, Angel?”

“I’m doing my duty.”
“When I gave out orders, it was to my crew, Angel. Not you.” He pulled her toward the hatch.

“Now get to my cabin and stay there.”

“Blister it, Blac! I am not a child. I’ve captained my own damn ship for two years. I can help.”
“Not today, you won’t.”
She gritted her teeth. “Do not be stubborn.”
He paused and pulled her around to face him. “I have an unknown vessel tailing me, what looks like

a devil of a storm brewing, and an entire crew depending on me to keep them alive. I cannot,” he said and
shook her. “And will not, divide my attention from my responsibilities to keep an eye on you. If you wish
to help, then do me a favor, sweet one.” He kissed the bridge of her nose. “Stay below, so I have one less
thing to worry about.”

Angel remained stiff. So now you know why I take my responsibilities seriously, Angel. His words

echoed in her mind. She couldn’t make him chose between his responsibilities and her.

She glared at him and then with a soft sigh, she turned and headed below. She would do as he

asked, only because she wanted to keep him safe and not have him worry over her. She did not do it
because he’d told her to, but because he’d asked.

Angel entered the cabin and the ship took a downward lurch. She toppled to her knees and clasped

the door handle. The ship straightened and made its ascent up another wave. The bottom dropped out of
the sky and rain spattered on the deck overhead. Angel stood and moved to the bunk just as the ship
slanted once again. Tossed against the table, she let out a sharp squeal of pain.

She hated storms. She loved the sea and her ship. But she hated the storms.
Mother Nature often had a way of letting one know exactly who was in charge. Her stomach

flopped over and she rested a hand over it. She’d never been sea sick before.

But dread skittered down her spine.
Wind and sea lashed the windows, and every fear leapt forward in mind. What if Blac were swept

overboard? She had to just see him. Maybe if she could just sneak on deck right at the stairs, she could
see him. He wouldn’t even have to know she was there. She’d be relatively safe and she could make sure

he was safe as well.

After all, if anything bad happened, he’d need every pair of available hands. He might even thank

her later. She didn’t have as much experience as Blac, but she had been through a few storms herself.

Her gaze swung to the windows and a flutter inside her belly told her that she didn’t think she’d

been through anything quite like the storm they faced now.

She crossed to the door before she lost her nerve and flung it open. A gust of wind slammed her into

the wall. She banged her head against the paneling, groaned, and crumpled to the floor. She scrambled to
her knees and crawled, making her way to the deck.

Rain pelted her like a thousand needles. She seized hold of the grab rails attached to the side and

got to her feet. She leapt toward the stair railing leading to the quarterdeck and held tight as the ship
dipped into the ocean’s depth at almost a ninety-degree angle.

Fear kept her paralyzed, and she closed her eyes. The ship hit the base of the wave like a twenty-

four pounder cannonade, and the resounding crash receded against the rumble of thunder.

The wind abruptly died off, the rain ceased and the clouds exploded with one last brilliant light

display. Multiple streaks of jagged fingers clawed at the ocean’s surface. A silence born of anticipation
settled and every crew member looked up and around in confusion. Brush-like charges of static crackled
and her muscles tensed with pain.

“Angel!”
She jumped out of her skin and turned to peer up the stairs. Blac unfastened the rope binding him to

the wheel. She decided she’d better meet him halfway or else her tongue-lashing would be worse.

She started up the stairs. A clap of thunder and the gathering sea tilted the ship almost on its side.

She flew back down the steps and slid into the railing, toppling right over the side. By sheer instinct, she
managed to grasp the rail at the last minute. The water licked at her feet as she hung from the banister and
fear gripped her heart. She was about to be washed over the side.

Her eyes met Blac’s and her scream rent the air just before it was swallowed up by a massive

wave, which sucked her into the waiting arms of the black water below.

She heard her name, just as her grip began to slip. Blac, I love you, I always have...

Fifteen

Blac roared and dived toward the stairs.
Gravity took hold and he tumbled down the steps. He twisted enough to catch his descent with the

lower half of his body against the railing. He reached over the side, grabbed hold of Angel’s wrists, and
hauled her into his arms.

The staccato of his heartbeat pounded inside his ears and he closed his eyes in relief. Wrapping his

legs around the bottom of the balustrade, he held tight until the ship somewhat righted herself.

Nestled between the stairs and the rail, Blac clasped her against his side. Waves washed over the

side and back out to sea. That could’ve been Angel.

He whispered her name. Both hands cupped her cheeks and he ravaged her lips. Rain washed all

color from her face, or was that fear?

Droplets coasted down her face, dripping off her pert little nose and he gently kissed the tip.

“You’re in so much trouble... When this is over, I’m going to beat you black and blue.”

With a soft chuckle between clenched teeth, she looked up at him. “As long as you kiss it

afterward.”

He laughed and squeezed her.
His heart finally pattered down to a normal rate. Her cold hands gripped him around the waist and

she shook from shock. “It’s all right now, Angel. I’ve got you.” He pulled her closer and wiped a hand
over her wet hair, smoothing it from her face.

She nodded but didn’t speak. Her teeth chattered when she attempted a smile. He lumbered to his

feet, pulled her with him, and together they made their way back to the helm. Doubled over against the
force of the wind he strapped them both to the wheel, with her safe inside the circumference of his arms.

The thought that this is where she belonged crossed his mind and this time, he didn’t try to talk

himself out of it. He had loved her in some form or another for many years now. His feelings for her had
grown and changed as she had, and he could no longer deny them. Life without Angel was no longer an
option, and he would fight to keep her right where she belonged...by his side.

The whistle of the wind through the rigging created an eerie atmosphere. Another mountainous wave

crashed over the ship and pummeled them, causing the rope binding to dig into his back. He gritted his
teeth against the pain and held his breath. Inhaling between the surges, he noted Rigo trying to lash down
some unfettered lines.

He placed Angel’s hands on the wheel. “Just keep her steady and sail her into the wave. I’ll be right

back.”

He unleashed himself and refastened it around her. “Blac! Don’t leave me here.”
Real fear marked her features with wide eyes and a pale complexion. He cupped her face. “I’ll be

right back, I swear.” He kissed her again and made his way to Rigo. He strained against the wind, his
eyes little more than narrow slits. He could barely see or breathe. The wind sucked the air right out of his
lungs.

Together they lashed down the lines. Rigo held the last one in hand when the ship lurched up

another colossal wave. He slipped backward, bumping into Blac and released the line. It snaked
dangerously across the deck. Just as Blac reached it, the vessel plummeted down the twenty foot drop and
the cord swished passed him. The wind picked it up and flung it about. The weapon-like cable snapped,
clipping Rigo’s cheek. The Spaniard gasped and doubled over, clapping a hand over the wound.

Alarmed, Blac bounded across the deck and caught the offending rope. He swung to and fro until he

slammed against the mizzenmast. He reached up and rubbed the lump forming on the back of his head.
Catching his breath, he scuttled to tie down the line.

Rigo clasped him on the shoulder with his free hand. Blood oozed from between his fingers and

rainwater washed it down his forearm in a red river. “She’s feisty, eh? I haven’t seen a storm like this in
years.” Red liquid trickled down his cheek and dripped from his chin.

“Aye, this is one hell of a storm. We’re coming out of its center. Go see to that wound before it

really gets worse, mate.” Blac headed back to the quarterdeck. Rain slanted across the decks but
something caught his eye.

“What the hell is that?” he said.
Rigo peered past him. “What?”
The wind shifted, parting the downpour and allowed just a brief glimpse into the distance.

Something white skittered across the horizon. He squinted. “Is that a ship?”

He held his breath, concentrating. Seconds later, something white appeared, caught in the wind. It

tumbled end over end toward them. What the hell?

Surprised, his heart skittered to a stop and he realized what it was. The top section of a mast hurtled

through the air toward him. He leapt to the left but the impact sent him flying backward. He hit the deck
with enough force the breath was knocked out of him. Just before blackness took over, he realized he was
pinned beneath the section of broken mast and the intact main mast of his own ship.

Where the hell had the mast come from?

~*~

Blac!
Angel faltered and screamed. Max stumbled up the steps and reached for the wheel. Saltwater

streamed from his mouth and nose. He nodded. “Go to him, lass. I’ll take the wheel.”

Angel needed no other encouragement. She ducked beneath the rope and raced for the stairs. A

wave caught her feet and they slid right out from underneath her. She rushed back up and made it to Blac.

Her heartbeat thudded against her ribs as she knelt. Please let him live.
Bruno appeared at her side, and together the three of them lifted the broken mast off Blac’s almost

lifeless form. Had she not actually seen the rise and fall of his chest, she could’ve sworn he lay there
dead.

Relief whooshed out of her chest on a heavy sigh and tears scalded her eyes. Rigo checked him,

making sure there were no broken bones, and then Bruno bent and lifted him on one shoulder.

“I’ll get Raphael. He can look him over,” Rigo said.
Angel frowned as rain pelted her features. “Isn’t he the carpenter?”
“Si, but he is also the ship’s doctor.”
She nodded.
Rigo’s jaw dropped open in a mask of utter shock and Angel’s breathing stalled.
“What? What is it?” Rigo grasped her upper arms and turned her about.
A massive Frigate sailed out of the rain, her bow bearing down on them like the Flying Dutchman.

Angel’s heart slammed against her ribs and stuck there.

The ship was crippled badly by her single broken mast and she floundered under the heavy force of

the wind. She tilted on her axis severely. Angel watched, horrified, as a member of the Frigate’s crew
washed overboard right before her eyes. A hand prevented her gasp from escaping. “She’s going to ram
right into us,” Angel shrieked.

Panic almost overtook her until Rigo shook her. “Control yourself, Angel, if you’re going to be a

member of this crew and help Blac when he needs it the most, now is the time to assume command. If
you’re not going to help, then get below.”

Angel snapped her mouth shut. He was right. Now was not the time to panic. She had to help get

them out of this.

The Frigate headed toward their starboard side. With the storm, they couldn’t outrun her. Not with

all sails trimmed and the waves continued to push her closer to them. If they turned portside, there was a

chance they couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, sailing against the waves. And if the Frigate hit them
mid-ship, she’d split them in two. If they turned starboard they could run parallel with her bow to stern.
Yet, turning starboard could capsize them if they turned with the waves.

It would also open their broadside.
The wind increased to a howling frenzy and the sky bottomed out. Rain and hail pelted the decks

like a thousand daggers pinging against the rigging. Angel headed to the helm. A wave pushed her into the
stairs and she caught herself before she lost her footing. The Frigate almost doubled the Brigs size. She
would crush the Revenge.

Max struggled to hold the wheel into the waves. Angel pushed him out of the way. “Don’t fight it.

Let the waves turn us into the Frigate.”

“What?” Max shouted. “Bloody hell! Have ye gone daft, child?”
“No,” she replied. “Trust me, Max. Let the wave turn us toward the Frigate.”
“We’ll capsize, girl!”
Angel pushed against his chest. “Just do it! It’s a direct order from your captain.”
Max let go of the wheel and stepped back. The wheel spun to the right. The wave caught the ship

and hauled her starboard side. She teetered on the wave’s tip and long seconds passed before movement
resumed.

Angel lashed herself to the rail and hoped she was right on this one. She braced herself. The wind

caught hold of the mast and pushed her sideways.

Max lashed himself to the rail and began to pray. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy

name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done.”

They plummeted. Angel closed her eyes.
If ever there is a God, please listen to me now. Please don’t let us capsize. Let us live.
The rumble of the storm rose in volume. They slid sideways down the wave, the Revenge’s masts

pointed directly into the sea. The foremast collapsed under the pressure and the resounding split rang in
her ears.

She crumbled to the deck as gravity took hold and slid, the lashing catching her just before her feet

left the deck. They sat on the ship’s side at a ninety degree angle. The wave pushed them right passed the
Frigate. Now she just had to keep them from capsizing.

The wheel spun so fast she couldn’t grab it. It would break her arm should she try.
Max called her name and she turned to him. Rain slashed at her face and she gulped gallons of

water. He handed her a belaying pin and she jammed it into the wheel. It immediately came to a stop with
a loud crack.

Pulling herself closer to the wheel, she managed to whip it in the opposite direction. She grunted

under the weight. Another wave hauled the ship upright, and she scaled its height once again.

Back on her feet, Angel manned the helm with Max at her back. “Blimey you’re as off kilter as your

father, lass.”

“Aye, it runs in the family.”
“That it does.”
Bow to stern now, Angel whipped around to find the Frigate. “Where the hell did that ship come

from?” she shouted above the wind.

“The hell if I know.”
As if in response to her question, the Frigate’s battery of cannons exploded and the ball missed the

railing by less than two feet.

“Blow me down, did she jist fire on us?” Max’s voice carried to her.
The sixteen gun Brig wasn’t equipped to take on a Frigate. They would have to get out of her range.
Blac mounted the stairs shaking his head, his wet shirt plastered to his powerful shoulders and

chest. “Turn her about Mr. Briggs. Let’s show her a good time.”

“Ye’ canna be serious, Cap’n. She’s got double our guns and crew. There’s no way we can engage

and win. We should outrun—”

Had Blac gone crazy?
“I gave a direct order, Mr. Briggs. Besides, she’s been following us for two days. I mean to have a

conversation with her captain and find out why.”

They rode the waves until they could safely come about without fear of capsizing. They had the

advantage of a quicker ship and more maneuverability. The Frigate had made little progress in her turn-
about, and the Serpent’s Revenge was already in pursuit.

The rain ceased to all but a steady drizzle. Though the wind continued to gust and launch objects

like projectiles.

“Captain, I must protest. We canna’ win against a Frigate, not in a direct one on one battle.”
“Then we’ll simply have to outmaneuver them and out-strategize them.” Blac took the wheel from

Angel and kissed her lips. “Now I want you below and I don’t want any back talk. I will not stand up here
worried about you when I must fight a storm and a Frigate. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”Angel didn’t argue. She must trust in Blac to get them out of this. He would need all his wits

about him, and Angel suddenly realized that she did just that: she trusted Blac implicitly. “I won’t give
you any trouble.”

He looked at her as if she’d grown horns. She smiled at his expression. “Do not be so surprised. I

know your experience far outweighs mine.” She paused before landing a solid kiss on his lips. “I’m glad
you’re safe, Blac. Don’t ever scare me that again or I’ll kill you myself.”

~*~

The two ships encircled each other. Broadsides bared.
The Frigate was already seriously crippled. The main mast hung by its lines and the foremast had

completely broken off. In fact, Blac’s crew members had just tossed the damn thing over board.

“Bring out the storm sails, run out the guns, and give me some drag, Mr. Santiago.”
The crew ran out the Serpent’s twenty nine-pounder demi-culverins and knocked the wedges out

from under the wheels. The chief gunner called out orders and handed out the glowing linstocks.

“I want to ride the height of these waves and fire down on the target, Mr. Santiago. Make it

happen.” Blac lashed himself to the helm and said, “Cripple her rudder.”

At the height of the first wave, the roar of the larboard guns reverberated through the masts and the

planks under his feet shook with the force. The first round of shots fell short and by the third, the Frigate’s
quarter-deck rail shattered.

It took several tries for the crew to get in sync with the waves but eventually, every time the Serpent

topped a breaker, the demi-culverines would launch its ball shot.

The return fire cracked the crow’s nest and sent one of Blac’s crew plunging into the depths of the

ocean with a yell. Slivers of wood scattered across the deck and several howls of pain rent the air.

Black, acrid smoke decreased vision by half, and the second cannonball plunged through it,

swirling the black cloud just before it collided solidly with one of his crew, decapitating him. Another
smashed the bulkhead straight into the hull. Fire sparked and the crewman rushed to put it out.

“Reload those goddamned guns!” Blac shouted. “Take out that rudder, damn it. I want them crippled

and begging.”

The five-man gunner crew first used the rammer to clean out any debris and dropped the powder in

before they added the wadding, packing it in. Once that was done, they would swab the barrel and drop in
the shot.

“Fire at will,” the chief gunner commanded.
The glowing end of the linstock was applied to the primer. A deafening boom resounded through the

ship. Three rounds later, the Frigate’s rudder exploded into fragments and particles of the ship’s hull
floated on the surface of the water.

An eerie silence ensued when the wind died down abruptly. The only sounds were the crash of

waves over the ship’s banister and the unremitting thump of his heart. Blac’s breath rushed through his
lungs and sounded harsh in the stillness. He glanced up and the clouds churned in a circular motion above
them, and he realized, albeit too late, they were in the center of the storm.

Thunder rumbled in a low growl and shook the deck. “We’re in for a nice ride, Santiago. Bring us

down to bare poles, sir. See if we can’t find a way to get more drag, otherwise we’re going to drift right
into her.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Rigo replied and bellied out the orders. He turned back. “We can toss some full

barrels overboard, Cap’n”

“The rum?”
Rigo shrugged. “You have another idea?”
Blac frowned, then nodded. “Aye, use the rum.”
A pained howl rent the air. “Nay, don’t use the rum. Not the rum!” Max tripped over his own feet

trying to get to them, and the ship tilted, causing him to slide across the deck. He caught himself and stood.
“Nay, ye can’t ditch the rum, what’s the point in survivin’ a gale without ‘he rum?”

Full barrels of rum were attached to the ship by a rope and tossed overboard. Blac turned back to

the helm. Now that the Frigate was stranded in the water, she ran up her white flag. She would be unable
to steer in this storm and would drift until the rudder was fixed.

The winds picked up speed and blasted the side of the ship. Without sails, the Revenge was at the

mercy of God and Mother Nature. The wind bore no mercy on the Revenge and tore at the ship in a steady
rhythm.

Blac cursed. They were nearing the Frigate. He held firm to the wheel but luck wasn’t with him this

evening. Steering did little good as the force of the gale pushed them closer and closer to the crippled
vessel.

“Cap’n we’re gonna ram her!” Rigo shouted over the whine.

Sixteen

The impact sent Angel half-way across the cabin. Books tumbled to the floor, followed by the entire

bookcase. The dishes clattered against the planks and shattered to pieces. Angel crawled to her knees out
of the fallen debris and peered around. What the hell had they hit?

Blac!
Angel clambered to her feet and stumbled, her vision blackened and cleared. Dizziness washed

over her and she reached out to steady herself with a hand on the wall. Her other hand came away from
her forehead, covered in blood. She’d whacked her temple on something pretty good.

The crunch of her boots on the broken china pounded in her ears. She wrenched open the cabin door

that led out onto the weather deck.

Chaos ensued, and the hulking image of the Frigate loomed just yards off their bow. Men rushed to

cut any entangled lines and her heart faltered. Where was Blac? Her eyes swept the deck but she didn’t
see him.

Grappling hooks sailed across the way and bound the two ships together. A cry of battle ensued as

men leapt from the Frigate onto the decks of the Revenge. Wide-eyed, Angel ducked as someone swung
from a rope overhead and tumbled to the deck. The swarthy pirate flashed a toothless grin and she
reached for her cutlass.

The shock of contact as the cold steel clanged together vibrated through her arms. Angel gasped but

held firm.

“Yer afraid?”
Angel shook off her initial hesitation and slid the sword together until they stood nose to nose.

“Come, and see how afraid I am.”

She whirled and came about with shocking speed, sending the pirate back a step, protecting his

midsection. His dark eyes widened. He licked his filthy lips in what she guessed was anticipation.

They danced across the decks. She sidestepped the fallen lines and leapt to avoid the fallen bodies

littering the planks.

She swung and cleaved the fingers from his handle. His sword dropped uselessly. The decapitated

appendages flopped to the planks and the pirate lost his grin, clutching his wounded hand.

Someone’s hand tangled in her hair and yanked her back. She screamed. His hold went slack and he

toppled to the ground. Angel glanced behind her to see Bruno withdrawing his sword from the limp body.

Angel leapt forward and blocked the pirate to Bruno’s left, slicing through his gullet like a finger

through lard. A loud pop spliced through the air and a member of Blac’s crew crumbled. Just outside of a
cutlass’s reach, a pirate tossed the smoking musket aside and lifted the blunderbuss pistol at Bruno.

With a squeal, Angel seized her eight-inch dagger. With a flick of the wrist, the weapon sailed

through the air and embedded in the pirate’s neck, pinning him to mast behind him.

She dashed across the deck and picked up the blunderbuss, tucking it into her waistband before

retrieving her dagger. Wiping blood from the weapon, Angel ducked just in time as a sword hacked into
the mast next to her. She straightened and eyed her attacker. A large man by any standards, Angel skittered
out of reach around the mast, but he clomped after her. The behemoth laughed and slung the cutlass again.
She dodged and it cleaved into the wood. His blackened teeth flashed in another smile but it faded when
she pulled the pistol and squeezed the trigger.

Blood spattered across the deck and speckled across her face. Angel leaned back and panted. Her

heart thundered her chest.

Several of the pirates threw up their arms and dropped their weapons.
That’s when she saw him.
Max lay across the planks, blood smeared across his neck. “Max!” she cried and raced to his side.

Kneeling beside him, she clasped his hand. “Are you all right?”

An explosion rocked the vessel beneath her feet and threw her hard against the gun-wall. Startled,

Angel scrambled back onto her knees to check over him. His hazel eyes struggled to focus on her and he
attempted a smile. “Aye lass, I’ll be as right as rain soon enough.”

She spied a bullet lodged into his chest just above his heart. Blood gushed from the wound and

pooled on the deck. Tears burned her eyes but the rain washed them away. “Max! Max! No, you can’t
leave me!”

Angel dropped his hand and searched for something to plug the wound. Oh, please! She couldn’t

lose Max. He and Bruno had been her best friends for as long as she could remember. He’d been like a
second father to her.

She reached down tore a huge strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt and packed the wound as

best she could. But even as she struggled to save his life she knew...it was too late.

He reached for her hand and squeezed. She cried helplessly, and held his weathered hand to her

mouth kissing his knuckles. “Max! Please don’t leave me.”

He smiled. “Aye lassie, it be my time. Don’t fret, my sweet, Blac will take care of ye’ now, and

Bruno.”

Her heart ripped in two. “Blac hates me,” she wailed.
He attempted a chuckle but it ended in a ravaged cough. “Ahh, nay lass. He denies what he feels is

all. All men go through that when they meet their luv.” He squeezed her hand again. “He will come
around, my sweet.”

He hacked and covered his mouth. The strip of cloth she’d put over the wound had already soaked

through. Angel sobbed against his shoulder. His hand patted her on the back before it fell uselessly by his
side. He wheezed into her hair. “Blac will rescue Logan fer ye, my sweet. Do not doubt that fer a second.
Trust in him.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks and soaked into his rough waistcoat. She felt him kiss the top of her

head. “Aye, I’ve luved ye like a daughter, Angel.”

Her fists clenched into the wool of his wet coat and a scream rose in the back of her throat.

Somehow, she managed to tamp it down but she couldn’t stop the wracking sobs that shook her body. The
wind whipped at her hair and she caressed his unshaven jaw as the strength left his grip.

She sat there until she calmed to a mere whimper. She peered up into his weathered features and

closed his gentle hazel eyes for the last time. She placed a kiss on his forehead and held his work-
roughened hand.

She said a silent goodbye to the man who’d held her all her life. Activity bustled around her but she

didn’t care.

“Angel.”
Her gaze found Blac as he bent next to her. His grey-blue eyes moved from her to Max’s body, then

back again. “Ahh hell,” he muttered and then gathered her into his arms where she wept on his shoulder.

What seemed like hours passed, and she realized she’d always depended on Blac to comfort her,

and he’d always been there for her when she’d needed him the most. Memories of the day she’d stowed
away on his ship and he’d cradled her until he could return her to her father. The day of her father’s
capture Blac had tried to keep her safe but she’d been too stubborn to listen.

Angel peered up into his eyes. Contentment spread through her and she squeezed him. Dropping a

kiss to her forehead, he squeezed her in return.

“I love you, Blac,” she whispered against his neck.
He sat back to look at her, shock registered on his face. She’d confessed her feelings but he said

nothing. Her heart seemed to freeze in place waiting on his reply, but none came forth.

Lowering her eyes, she was certain her nose and eyes were red and tear-streaked. She must look a

fright, but his gaze only softened before he lowered his mouth to hers in the gentlest kiss she’d ever
experienced. Warmth from his gentleness engulfed her, but disappointment crawled its way into her heart.
That one kiss said more to her than she could’ve ever imagined.

But, she recognized the fact that he refused to say it with words.

~*~

Blac carried his fallen Angel back to the cabin and laid her across the bed. “I’ll return in a few. I

need to take care of some things.” He peered down at her and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Will
you be all right while I’m gone?”

Her lip trembled but she nodded.
He made his way back topside. The Frigate had sustained too much damage, and even now sank into

the waiting arms of the deep blue sea.

Blac’s crew scurried to repair the damage of the hull on the Revenge, tended to the injured, and

prepared to lay the dead to rest. All the while, he, Bruno and Rigo fished many of the Frigate’s crew from
the cold depths of water, including the captain.

The men who surrendered by laying down their arms were sent to the brig. Any others who

continued to fight were shot down. Bodies littered the decks, and clean up would take hours. He’d lost
more men than he’d counted on. Sadness settled in his chest and squeezed. These were good men, many
with families, and it would be up to him to face the widows. It was the hardest part of holding the title of
captain. A heartfelt burial would be organized for his men after they rid themselves of the garbage.

The wily, old Frigate captain scurried over the side of the rail and dropped like a dead fish to the

planks. Bruno grasped the soaked collar of his tattered, royal blue waistcoat and hauled him to his feet.
Sea water dripped from his overlong black beard onto the planks.

The man coughed and sputtered before he gave a mocking smile that revealed the two missing front

teeth. The loosened cravat hung around his neck and black hair plastered to his forehead in wet strands.

Blac raised his pistols and aimed directly at the captain’s chest. “Remove his weapons, Mr.

Santiago and take him to the hold with the others. I’ll be sure to save Bruno a spot while we ask the good
captain some questions.”

It took several hours to get the rest of the ship back in order. The men from the sunken Frigate were

stowed away in the hull with a guard, and repairs were underway for the Serpent. Hammers pounded
against wood and metal as the wind died down to a mere bluster of air. The men who were not captured
were left aboard the sinking vessel, as the Revenge couldn’t house them all.

Deciding to stop in the port of St. Kitts to make repairs on the hull and mast, Blac mapped out the

course before making his way to the hull of the ship. Bruno and two other crewmembers stood guard. The
myriad of prisoners languished in various positions across the deck. Only the captain stood. He leaned
casually against the bars and appeared to be cleaning under his nails, ignoring Bruno’s heated stares.

Blac motioned the guard and the man unlocked the cell door, calling out to the captain. The captain

took his time lowering his propped foot and stepping over his comrades’ prone’ forms before he reached
the opening.

“Well, well, Captain Barclay.”The decaying teeth flashed in a harsh grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet

such a fine privateer.”

Blac raised a single brow. “Indeed, then it won’t be too hard to persuade you to join me in my

cabin.”

Bruno accompanied them and entering, Blac shut the door softly behind them. “I’m at a

disadvantage since you know who I am and yet, I’ve no idea who you are. Why don’t help me remedy
this?”

Angel stirred and sat up on the bed, her eyes swollen and red from her tears. The old captain’s gaze

swung to her so briefly, Blac thought he had imagined it. But it was no figment of his imagination. Again,

those eyes sought and found Angel.

“My name is of no importance. What you should be interested in is why I am here.” He spoke with a

heavy French accent. He smiled. “But you may call Jacques if you wish.”

Blac settled in the chair opposite of the captain. “Feel free to fill us in at any time. I am eager to

hear your reasons.”

Jacques leaned back in the chair and rubbed two fingers down his thin, squared mustache. “I was

approached by an old man several days ago. He told me that should his assassins fail to kill the girl—” he
pointed at Angel— “and managed to board your ship, I was to make sure neither of you lived to tell the
tale.”

Angel stood and crossed to the table. “You mean my grandfather, Nigel Vancroft?”
Jacques shook his head. “No. Vancroft has funded many of my smuggling ventures over the years. I

know him well. ‘Zis man I have never met before, but he was definitely well-bred. Gentry.”

“You didn’t get a name?”Blac asked.
“He paid me beforehand. There was no need.”
“Then you won’t mind going on your merry little way once we reach St Kitts.” Blac stood and

crossed his arms.

Jacques tilted his head and examined his dirty nails. “I am not to return to England until the deed is

done and much of my business is there, mon ami.” He shrugged. “So you see why I am having difficulty
with giving up this quest of mine. You have sunk my best ship, killed most of my men, and managed to
keep the girl safe through all of this. I...have nothing to show for this misery.”

Bruno leapt from his position by the door but Blac put out a hand, preventing Bruno from attacking

Jacques. “Tell me what you want?”

Jacques shrugged and crossed his arms. “You see, that is the problem. There is civil war brewing

in England, so my smuggled arms deals are higher than they’ve ever been. Unless you can provide me
with enough money to last me a lifetime, then we have no deal.”

“Indeed,” Blac said. “Then I guess we have nothing more to discuss. Bruno, escort the good captain

back to the hold.”

The captain stood, shoving past Blac on his way to the door. A brief look passed between the

captain and Angel. Within seconds, a dagger appeared in his hand as he leapt for Angel.

The sound of metal scraping metal broke the silence, and in unison, three swords found their mark.

The good captain looked like a voodoo doll stuck with pins from all three sides.

The captain smiled at Angel before he collapsed to the floor. Blac removed his weapon, his

attention moved from Bruno to Angel. She hadn’t looked up yet. Determination scowled on her face as she
removed her own sword.

Then her features faltered with wide eyes as if she couldn’t believe that had just happened.
Those wide, sea-green eyes found Blac. Her lip trembled. He sheathed his sword as hers clanged to

the floor, and he opened his arms. He caught her up and instructed Bruno, “Dump the fodder overboard.
He’ll make a good meal for the sharks.”

Bruno nodded tersely, removing and sheathing his sword. He dragged the limp body out the door.
Angel buried her head into Blac’s shoulder and quivered under the force of her tears. He gathered

her close and kissed the top of her head. “It’s over,” he whispered.

She leaned back. “But it’s not. Someone wants me dead, and we still don’t know who it is. The

lieutenant is young, but the man who hired the captain is old, so it can’t be him. So who could it be? And
how will we know it’s him if we run into him?”

His jaw tightened. “It doesn’t matter, Angel. You’re safe here.” Both of his hands seized her cheeks

and drew her forward with a deep kiss. She surrendered and opened to him. “With me.”

She nodded. “I’ve always been safe with you.”

He deepened the kiss and drew her flush against his body. Heat invaded every pore of his body and

sent his head spinning. How she managed to send him over the edge every time, he would never know.
But she did.

I’ve loved her for many years now.
It has just changed into something deeper.
He smoothed a lock of hair from her face and kissed his way across her cheek to the tiny hollow

below her ear. She groaned and arched toward him. The sound sent an unexpected spread of gooseflesh
up his arms. He wanted her in his arms for the rest of his life, and whatever chance he’d had to turn her
away was long gone.

He backed her up against the edge of the bunk and they toppled to the mattress together. His lips

sought her chin and licked a path across her jaw line to her ear. She shivered in his arms and he pressed
as much of his body against her as he could manage. He loved the feel of her; her smooth skin, silky hair,
and the warmth of her body beckoned him to wring every gasp of pleasure from her delicious lips as he
could muster.

“My Angel,” he whispered. “Mine.”
He captured her lips in soul-searing kiss and he spoke the truth. His Angel. And he would never

again deny this.

She drew back and looked at him, and her innocent blue eyes sparkled under the dim light of lamps.

Her hands cupped his cheeks and brought his face closer. Her lips brushed his, softly. Tenderly.

It was her way of saying it was about time. He grinned and deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into

her mouth with the urgency of an all-out gale as he settled between her legs. She arched against him and
fever ravaged his senses. He wanted to keep this gentle and tender, to show her how much he cared for
her. But she drove him wild so easily.

Her little claws dug into the muscles of his shoulders and he answered her demands by rubbing his

hardness against the soft flesh between her thighs. She moaned. He kissed down her neck, and his hands
ripped open the ties of her white shirt, exposing her breasts to his view. He groaned.

“Beautiful.”
Both of her hands plunged into his hair and urged him forward. He needed no other prompting. His

mouth captured her nipple. He sucked, licked, and teased the aroused flesh until she was panting beneath
him.

His hands ran the length of her body and around to cup her buttocks. He lifted her to grind his

erection against her and her soft gasp accompanied the slight quiver of pleasure. It amazed him how just
touching her brought him to this intense state of arousal. If she only knew what kind of power she held
over him, he’d be in real trouble.

She could probably ask for the moon right now, and he’d pluck it from the sky.
He sat back, removed her boots and tugged her pants down. Tossing the garment aside, he settled

back atop her, grinding his heated flesh against her.

The slight brush of her hands as they ran down his chest brought a shudder out of him. The thin

fabric ripped under her tug and her palms flattened against his chest. Raw desire coursed through him.

Those wonderful little hands of hers slid down to his waistband and he sucked in a breath. She

slipped her hand inside the gap and wrapped her fingers around his flesh. He closed his eyes and lowered
his head to her forehead. He shuddered.

Those nimble fingers opened his breeches and had him in hand before he could take his next breath.

The warmth of her palm made him pulse in her hand. She squeezed and he gasped.

She slid her palm up and then slowly back down. He was lost. A seductive little chuckle

accompanied her actions and he opened his eyes to peer down into her triumphant expression.

“Enjoy your power, mistress, for you won’t have it for long. I intend to take it back and fill you with

my flesh.”

~*~

Angel chuckled and continued to stroke him. She bit her lip and teased him. “Do you not enjoy it?”
“Yes,” he gasped out. “Too much.”
She pumped harder and minutes later he flipped her over atop him. He captured her hips and

dragged her up his body until she straddled his face. She gasped. “What are doi—”

His tongue slipped between the folds and she gasped, her head dropped to lie on her shoulders.

“Oh, Blac,” she whispered. Her hands plunged into his hair and she fought the urge to grind against his
mouth. He licked her flesh and teased the budding knot until she panted.

One of his hands joined the foray and teased the little nub while his tongue plunged inside her,

making her cry out. How could this man be so adept at driving her wild?

She writhed against him. The pleasure was so intense she wasn’t sure she could control herself. He

held her firmly as she tried to wriggle away from such a powerful stimulation.

He flipped them over onto the bunk and rose over her like an Adonis in the flesh. Slipping between

her thighs, he drove home, and Angel arched off the bed. She crested before the first thrust was
completed, and the second had her climbing that threshold once more. Angel panted and wrapped her legs
around his waist. Her blood thrummed through her veins. He clasped her hands above her head and
pounded into her. Joined in heart, hand, and body, they peaked together as they stared into each other’s
eyes.

A final, heaving shudder shook him and he collapsed atop her. She wrapped him up and dropped a

kiss on his sweaty brow. Every tremor of his body made found an echo in hers. She slid a hand into his
hair, pulling the dampened strands from his face. Their eyes locked and a message they each recognized
was relayed in that one look.

“I love you,” he whispered, surprising her with his admission.
Warmth blossomed in her chest and tears of joy burned her eyes. How long had she waited to hear

those words? A soft smile played about her lips. “About time, Captain.”

Seventeen

Dusk had fallen and the harbor lights floated across the surface of the ocean like glowing lily pads.

Ships bobbed atop the water, arranged in neat little rows along the piers edge. With only the single
entrance to Port Royal, escape plans would have to be carefully thought out.

The Serpent’s Revenge glided across the waves like a dancer in the night and docked just as the last

rays of the sun disappeared. Beyond the beaches, rolling hills covered by thick vegetation looked over the
shoulder of the harbor.

Jamaica was a curious little island, full of mystery, secrets, and hidden treasures. The original

inhabitants called Tainos Indians called it “Xaymaca,” meaning “land of wood and water.” The British,
however, named it “the jewel of the British crown.”And it certainly was just that. Beautiful beyond
compare, with water so clear the brilliant coral on the ocean’s bottom shone through.

Angel loved everything about the Caribbean and couldn’t imagine home being anywhere else in the

world.

A nervous tension settled on the deck of the ship as Blac ensured that every member of the crew

was prepared and ready to disembark at a moment’s notice. He nodded to Bruno and reached for Angel’s
arm to guide her down the boardwalk.

Their boots pounded against the wood planks. The only other sounds were the crickets song and the

gentle lap of waves against the hulls.

“We’re going to stay at an inn and send a messenger to the lieutenant. Once we receive an answer,

we can discuss a more detailed strategy.”

Bruno, Rigo, and Harry joined them on their walk. Angel lowered the hood of her cloak a little and

peered at Blac from under the material. His eyes darted from the left to the right. The man was ever-
cautious. Her stomach gave a nervous flutter and she attempted to calm her nerves. They were risking a
lot coming to an English port to negotiate the release of her father and the commander.

Blac glanced down at her. “You’re going to stay in the room, Angel, while I send off the message.”
“Oh, no I’m not.”
“Don’t argue with me over this.”
“I refuse to stay in a room by myself, Blac,” Angel said and came to a standstill in the middle of the

wharves. “Not after the attacks. I was lucky the first two times to get away. The third time may not end in
my favor.”

Blac paused on the cobblestone road to look at her. He seemed to consider her words. “All right,”

he replied. “You can go — but only because I want to keep an eye on you myself.”

She sighed in relief. Fear wasn’t the only reason she wanted to be involved, but he didn’t need to

know that.

He pointed a finger in her general direction. “But we do this my way and you’re to keep your mouth

shut. No matter what you hear. Understood?”

She nodded.
They split from the other three and he ordered them to get two rooms. Angel followed close to Blac

down High street toward the Black Dog. Belatedly, she realized this was where she’d blundered in her
original plan. Blac had informants and allies all over this city. Though she wasn’t sure she would change
anything now.

They entered the Black Dog. “Keep your head ducked,” he whispered as they headed toward the

back of the establishment. “We don’t need to get arrested before we make the trade.”

She nodded.
Blac sat with his back to the wall, and she settled into the chair next to him. She attempted to slow

the beating of her heart by taking deeper breaths, but the haze of smoke inside the tavern made it difficult

to breathe.

The clink of glass and metal split the soft drone of voices inside the overheated pub. A very tall

blonde barmaid sauntered up and winked at Blac. Angel kept her mouth closed from sheer shock at the
hussy’s impudence and turned to Blac. He looked uncomfortable under her stare and Angel realized this
woman must be one of the women who’d graced his bed. Heat plunged through her veins and an emotion
she couldn’t name gripped her heart in a vise.

“Capi’tan Barclay, tis good to see you again. Have you come back to make good on yer promise to

me, mon ami?”

Promise? What promise?
Angel sat forward as if hanging on his every word.
Blac’s grin appeared sheepish. “No, I’m sorry, Jezel. Not this time.” His eyes cut a quick glance in

Angel’s direction. “It would appear I’m currently off the eligible market.”

Jezel gave a pretty pout. “Zhat is too bad. I was looking forward to another night in your arms. I

know you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

Blac gave a nervous laugh.
Angel’s dagger thunked into the wood planks next to Jezel’s hand and startled the woman. “Two

rums and be on your way.”

Jezel eyed her curiously and attempted to peer under the hood. Angel slapped the table top with her

hand. “Now!”

Jezel leapt into action and rushed to the back of the building. A deep chuckle sounded next to her,

and she faced Blac. “What are you laughing at?”

“Your little display of jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous.”
He laughed. “I can tell.”
Before she could respond, the heavy, oak door swung open and cool air rushed in. A young seaman

ducked inside and scanned the room. When he spotted Blac in the corner, he made his way toward them
and took a seat.

“Ahoy, Cap’n.” The young man nodded at her and leaned forward.
Blac set both elbows on the table’s edge and leaned forward. “What’s the latest news?”
“We’ve been in port for a fortnight, Cap’n. He’s growing anxious, waiting on word from ye’.”
Blac nodded. “I’ve got the commander stashed away in a safe place here. We’ll make the trade

tomorrow before noon.”

The man nodded.
“How is Logan? Have you seen him?” Blac asked.
“Cap’n Logan is being held in the Lieutenant’s home in the cellar. He’s been chained to the wall,

fed once a day and the lieutenant visits him quite a bit. He’s been beaten pretty bad, cap’n. He can barely
stand on his own.”

Angel released a soft gasp and tears burned her eyes. Oh Father, just make it one more day and

I’ll get you out of there!

Beneath the oaken table, a warm palm squeezed her hand. She glanced up at Blac, sending her a

small smile before turning back to his informant. “Do they grow suspicious of you yet, Marco?”

“Nay, he is lax in his leadership. There is no order, and discipline is meted out to promote fear, but

his men laugh at him behind his back. They say he tries too hard to be like his father but fails miserably.
I’ve yet to meet his father so I cannot say for sure, but I know he is a weakling. He likes to beat men while
they are down, or chained to a wall. It makes him feel powerful.”

Anger churned in her gut. How could anyone treat another human being in such a way?
Blac nodded. “Don’t get caught. If they become the least bit suspicious, leave at once.”

“Aye...and Cap’n, be careful,” the young man said and got to his feet. “His hatred for Logan is

dangerous. Rage like that makes a man crazy.”

“Indeed. Be careful, yourself. Until tomorrow.”

~*~

Almost before the sound of the footsteps faded, another dark figure detached itself from the dark

niche between the two buildings.

As Angel and Blac exited the Black Dog and disappeared down the street, Charles eased around to

face the boy before him. Smooth-faced and nervously clutching his tricorn hat in his hands, Harry
Chapman pressed his back against the brick siding. The scurry of a rat echoed through the dank alley and
Charles frowned in distaste. His boots scraped across the gritty cobblestones and kicked layers of trash
out of the way. Charles eyed the boy, and silence descended.

A steady drip of water and the muted sounds of revelry droned on in the distance. Chapman’s gaze

flickered from Charles then back to the entrance of The Black Dog. The boy shifted uncomfortably.
Charles decided to ease the lad’s fear and asked, “How did you come by this information?”

The boy swallowed and ran a sleeve across his sweaty brow. “I be a member of Miss Angel’s

crew.”

Charles masked his surprise. “And you decided to betray your captain?”
The boy’s dark brows rose and then furrowed. “I owe the lass no loyalty. I only hired on this past

year.”

Charles stilled, a smile smoothing across his features. “Interesting news, indeed.” Charles settled

his gaze on the boy again. “I should imagine you’ll be in need of work now then.”

“Depends on how much yer offerin’.”
Charles chuckled. “A like-minded man.” He slipped the boy a small bag of coins and immediately

brushed his hands across his pants as if to rid himself of any germs. The lad smiled, exposing his lack of
teeth, and Charles grimaced. “So you can take me to where the commander is stashed then?”

Harry nodded. “That’ll cost ye more.”
The grind of his own teeth grated in his ears. “Indeed.” Charles indicated with a flick of the wrist

for his solicitor to hand over the rest of the money. After the exchange, Charles impatiently urged the boy
into his carriage.

“Lead the way then,” said the lieutenant as he climbed in behind Harry.
Charles knew he couldn’t trust Blac. It was the very reason he’d sent the assassins and had them

followed. Now a member of Angel’s own crew had betrayed her. Poetic justice, perhaps?

Charles grinned. It was surprising how easily this scheme to kill Logan and his daughter was

coming together. Indeed, he couldn’t have planned this any better himself.

He hadn’t expected this new turn of events, but he was pleased beyond measure. So Blac planned to

hand over his commanding officer in return for Logan. And Charles was supposed to just watch them walk
away scot-free.

Well, Blac you’re sadly mistaken.
Charles chuckled out loud and the boy’s gaze shot to him in the darkened carriage. “Don’t you love

it when a plan just comes together with so little effort?”

The boy’s smile diminished and he shifted nervously in his seat. “Are you going to hurt Miss

Angel?”

Charles couldn’t help but rub his hands together with glee. “Oh, don’t get a weak stomach now,

dear boy. You should’ve realized once you set this action into motion what would happen. Surely you
aren’t having second thoughts now?”

The boy swallowed. “I—I don’t know.”
Charles laughed. “It’s amazing what greed will make even the good-hearted do.” With a single twist

of his wrist, the hidden sword slid free from his cane and jabbed under the boy’s chin. “I will not tolerate
weakness of any kind. You came to me. Do not grow lily-livered now.”

The boy raised his hands in surrender and scooted as far away from the weapon as he could. “N—

nay! I do not renege on my word, I swear.” His voice cracked in his horror. “I simply asked a question.
Besides, the bitch never did pay me before she was captured.”

A rigid silence settled within the dark confines of the carriage. The lieutenant eased back against

the plush velvet seat and smiled. “I am not really interested in the girl. She’s just a weapon used to inflict
pain. It is Logan I want. De’Haviland will pay for what he’s done to me.”

“Logan De’Haviland?” The boy’s eyes widened.
“Aye, surely you knew you worked for his daughter. Even you cannot be that dim-witted.”
The boy’s mouth clapped closed. “I had not realized — I did not put the two together. He is The

Black Logan you speak of?”

“Do not talk of him as if he is a god. You cut him and he bleeds, a fact of which I look forward to

proving on the morrow. You should stick around. After all, I could use a new informant. After I bring the
tale of Logan’s demise, I shall be the talk of all of London. I am certain to have acquired a few new
enemies.”

Charles chuckled and it turned into an almost high pitched giggle. “I cannot wait to tell my father the

good news.” Perhaps now, Father will give me the respect I deserve.

After all, the viscount wouldn’t have ever been able to pull this off without him.

Eighteen

Morning of June 7, 1692

Dawn broke over the horizon in a brilliant display of reds, oranges and yellows. Sunlight poured

into the opened veranda doors and spilled across the hard-wood floors, pooling just beyond the bed.
Angel cracked first one eye open and then the second.

Squinting, she reached for Blac’s warmth but didn’t feel him. Movement from the porch drew her

attention. The slightest breeze tickled her cheek as she eased from the bed and placed her feet on the cold
floor. A shiver shimmied up her back. She tied the sheet firmly around her chest and headed for the porch.

He stood next to the banister peering down the cliff to the town below. His dark hair was loose

around his shoulders, tousled in the breeze. He wore breeches and barefooted and bare—chested, he
rested his hands on the rail. Angel had to admit he was the most stunning man she’d ever seen.

He glanced over one shoulder at her and gave a devastating smile. Her heart fluttered and she

crossed to him. He opened his arms and drew her close, kissing the top of her head. “Did you sleep
well?”

She smiled. “Yes, and you?”
He nodded. The dark stubble on his chin scraped gently across her forehead. He leaned back and

held her at arm’s length. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.
“I don’t know what the outcome of this is going to be, Angel. I hope a good one, but I’m a realist.

Nothing ever goes the way we plan...do you understand that?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I know what you’re trying to do—”
She attempted to turn from him but his hand on her arm brought her back. “Good. Then listen to me.

We go by the plan—my plan. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. We do this my way.”

She threw her hands up in defeat. “We’ve already had this conversation, Blac. What do you want

me to say?”

Both of his hands captured her cheeks. “Then realize this...I’m in love with you, Angel. I’ve loved

you since the day I met you aboard my ship when I found your little arse stowed away and you raised
those defiant, blue eyes up to me. I’m not going to lose you now. Not because of your stubborn defiance or
any mistakes.”

Her heart softened and she raised a palm to his jaw. “I’ve loved you all my life. This is too

important to me to blunder it now.”

He seized her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. His intense gaze searched

her face as though he intended to memorize every detail. “Then understand this — nothing is more
important to me than your safety. If it comes down to you or your father...”He paused. “Do you understand
what I’m saying? I want a life with you...life without you would be unbearable”

Angel placed her finger to his lips and shushed him. “Don’t say anymore. I understand. But...” she

whispered. “Please understand he’s my father. I’ve loved him all my life as well. Don’t ask me to choose.
Please.”

Fear crept inside her chest. She could lose him. Today might be the last time she ever felt his

embrace. She could also lose her father. Tears burned her eyes and blurred her vision. Blac gathered her
into his arms and squeezed her close. She buried her face in his neck and smelled the salty scent of the
ocean on his skin. She didn’t want to lose this now but — how could she choose?

Her heart seemed to crack down the center, and she knew a piece of it would always belong to the

man who’d raised her. The man who’d tucked her in every night with a kiss and a smile. The man who’d
over-indulged her and tolerated her tantrums with a chuckle and a whispered, “I love you.”

What kind of choice is this? How could she ever turn her back on the only opportunity she’d ever

have to make sure her father escaped an English prison? She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t throw away an
opportunity just to save her own life. Her own happiness. And she knew this. She just didn’t have the
strength to tell Blac the truth.

He took a deep breath and she laid her head against his chest, listening to the air fill his lungs.

Don’t make me choose, Blac. I’m not sure I can.

His arms tightened around her and he swooped down to capture her lips in a ravenous kiss. A tiny

thrill shot down her spine and caused her to quiver.

A knock sounded and Blac strode to the door. Angel scurried behind the screen to get dressed. She

heard the soft tones of the voices, but the words didn’t quite reach her.

Once dressed, she strapped on her weapons cutlass and dagger, shoving the dual flintlock pistols in

her waistband. She stepped out from the screen. Blac, Bruno, Rigo, and several of the ship’s crew
huddled in the middle of the room.

“Rigo, stick with Bruno,” Blac said as she came to his side. “Go get Logan and meet me just south

of the docks. Everything must go as planned. No hesitations. If things go awry, leave and we’ll meet back
up on the ship.”

“Has anyone seen Harry this morning?” Rigo questioned.
Everyone shook their head. “When was the last time you saw him?” Blac asked.
“Last evening before we departed the ship. I haven’t seen him since and neither has any of the

crew.”

“Well, keep an eye out but we don’t have time to wait on the boy. If he’s not back by the time we set

sail...” Blac shrugged to get his point across.

Rigo nodded and the small group made their way out the door. Everyone filed out, leaving only

Angel and Blac. She moved to follow but Blac seized her upper arm. He swung her around in another kiss
and heat exploded through her body. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him close. His hands
captured her head as if to hold her still but she wasn’t going anywhere. His lips sucked and nipped at the
corner of her mouth. He tilted his head first one way and then the other, with renewed fever. She loved the
feel of him. Every second with him was more special than the last.

“I love you,” he whispered.
“I know,” she sighed between kisses.
One last fierce embrace and he turned her about with a pat on her bottom. Whatever happened, she

couldn’t lose Blac. She wasn’t sure she could choose, but she knew for certain she refused to lose him
now. Somehow, someway, she would get her father free and live to enjoy Blac’s embrace for the rest of
their lives. She only hoped the rest of their lives included more than just today.

~*~

Sneaking into anywhere in broad daylight was rash, if not impossible.
Even Mother-Nature worked against them, providing plenty of sunshine and clear skies. Not a grey

cloud in sight. Rigo Santiago tugged the wide brim of his hat down over his eyes. He scanned the entrance
to the lieutenant’s home. The eight-foot wrought-iron gate and brick wall impeded any real view of the
house. What he could see didn’t look promising. People milled around everywhere, a few guards, several
gardeners, and a maid on the front porch sweeping off the dust. The stables sat directly to the left of the
house where several grooms loitered about.

Rigo made a quick motion with his hand and continued down the cobbled street. The click of his

boots sounded loud in the serenity of the quiet drive. He crossed the street, walked parallel to the brick
wall before melding into the brush and trees next to the house.

Seconds later, Bruno appeared behind him. For a man of his extreme size, he could be as silent as a

rat.

They made their way to the rear of the yard where there was less activity and scurried over the

brick wall. Dropping to the ground, Rigo scanned the area and dashed to the storage building several feet
away.

They hunkered down and made several hand signals. Bruno motioned toward the back door. Rigo

shook his head. “Too obvious.”

He inspected the rear of the manor and pointed to the opened window on the far right corner of the

house. Slinking from tree to tree, Rigo dove behind the enormous fountain in the courtyard, hunching down
as low as he could go. This was madness. They would never be able to make it inside the house without
being caught.

When Bruno thudded down beside him, the giant’s hat was littered with leaves and debris. The

black man smashed his fist into his palm and pointed to the door. Rigo shook his head. “No, we can’t just
go in there and smack some heads together. Number one, we’re outnumbered, and number two, we’ll ruin
Blac’s well-laid plans. Remember, he’s supposed to be drawing the attention off of us, lack-brain.”

Rigo crossed to the corner of the house in about four strides and hovered there, peering around the

corner to make sure it was clear. Nothing stirred on the side of the house and he waved a hand to Bruno.

Bruno smacked against the brick wall. “What happened to your grace?”
The big black man shrugged.
“You’re just upset you don’t get the chance to go in there a smack someone around, so you’re

deliberately trying to sabotage this mission.”

White teeth flashed against the dark face in a boyish grin.
Rigo rolled his eyes and knelt low. He peered over the edge of the window to look inside the

house. It was the empty study. He pulled himself inside and stepped carefully to the left. Bruno entered
next, but his large head bumped into the window frame.

Rigo ducked and put a finger to his lips.
Bruno frowned, rubbing the spot.
Seconds ticked by and no alarms sounded, so he moved to the door and cracked it open. Listening,

he heard muted voices but nothing close enough to indicate anyone was in this vicinity of the house. So he
opened the door just a little more and plastered one eye to the gap, searching for movement. Nothing.

Freeing his dagger, he took a deep breath and stuck his head out the door. The long hallway led to

the front of the house and he glimpsed the stairs and the front door.

Deciding to go in the opposite direction, he eased out and moved two doors down. He cracked it

open and peered in. A closet of some kind.

If Logan was being held here, he would likely be in the cellar or the lowest part of the house. Their

only problem was finding it without getting caught first.

A clang from the end of the hall caused them both to jump and clamber inside the tiny closet. Two

overlarge men — and one who reeked — in a tiny broom closet did not mix well.

Rigo held his breath for more than just silence. “You need a bath,” he whispered in the dark.
The only answer he received was a slap to the head. “Ouch!”
Bruno chuckled, his barrel- chest shaking against Rigo, who pressed tighter against the door, hoping

to gain more room. But the door popped open and he tumbled face first to the floor.

He leapt to his feet and searched for another hiding spot. Without even checking to see if the room

across the hall was clear, he burst through the door, just as a maid rounded the corner at the end of the
hall.

He leaned back against the door to sigh in relief and whipped around. No one was here. Whew! He

sagged against the door until he heard a noise outside.

Panic seized him. Another room full of books. The library, he guessed. How many rooms with

books does one person need?

There was only one place to hide, and that was under the overlarge desk in the center of the room.

He lunged for it, dragging the armed chair out and crawling under just as the door swung open.

Christ! This was suicide.
He eased the chair back under the desk carefully without making a noise and waited.
The maid appeared. He craned his neck to gaze around the chair to see what she was doing. She

fixed a drink from the tray and then moved to open the curtains in the room. Excellent. More light. Why
couldn’t it rain?

She turned and headed back the way she’d come. He listened for the door to close but it never

came. He waited. Then he attempted to peer under the backside of the desk to see if the woman was still
there. He couldn’t bend his frame low enough. He simply wasn’t that flexible.

God’s blood! If he made it out of this alive, he was going to kill Blac.
Seconds passed, and he finally pushed the chair back. No sounds were heard. No female shrieks

sounded. Then he eased forward and poked his head out from under the desk.

A dagger settled against his throat and he jumped backward, bashing his head on the top of the desk.

A pair of glittering, emerald eyes lowered and accompanied the face of an angel. “Did you lose
something, or were you just cleaning out from under the desk?”

Rigo scooted forward with a grin. “Uh...well, I must admit I am lost, cara mia, and I—I dropped

something.”

The beauty stepped back and allowed him to get to his feet. Piles of cinnamon colored hair were

swept up in a fancy chignon and the pale canary dress she wore exposed her creamy shoulders and long
neck. Rigo tilted his head and surveyed the woman before him like an animal scrutinizing his meal.
Indeed, this could turn out to be interesting.

He took a step forward and she backed away. The knife in her hand shook slightly. Anyone less

astute would have missed the tremor. But not Rigo.

“Keep your distance, sir, or I will be forced to use this.”
He grinned, an almost feral smile. “The question remains, do you know how to use it?”
The redhead lifted her chin. “Come and find out.”
A challenge. Interesting. He backed her further into the room and she stood directly before the

doorway. Although, she’d yet to sound an alarm. “I do so apologize for the fright I gave you, miss. Please
accept my apology and let us begin again.”

She shook her head and her tight curls bounced against her neckline. A lovely neck to be sure.
When Bruno’s gigantic arms wrapped around her from behind and his palm covered her mouth, she

screamed. But it was too late, Bruno already had her mouth covered muting the shout.

“Interesting little twist we have here. This mission, suddenly became much easier, as well as, much

more enjoyable. Now seniorita do be so kind as to show us where the lieutenant is keeping Captain
Logan.”

~*~

Rigo, Bruno, and the girl exited the room. “Which way?” Rigo asked. When she didn’t answer, he

peered back at her. “Bruno has only to snap your sweet neck, princess, so I would point which direction.”

Those green eyes glared at him but she pointed to the left. After a myriad of turns they came to a

door. “In here?”

She nodded.
The stairwell led to the cellar, and he pounded down the stairs. A man leapt out of nowhere with a

dagger in hand, and Rigo seized his arm, tumbling back into the wall. Sliding down to the floor, they both
thudded down the last three steps.

Rigo strained under the other man’s strength. His opponent had gravity on his side. They struggled

with the dagger and with sheer determination, Rigo forced the weapon above his head where it embedded

into the wooden step next to his ear.

Relief whooshed from his lungs. That had definitely been too close.
Bruno yanked on his attacker’s collar and lifted him off Rigo. With a solid punch to his chin, Bruno

knocked the smaller man out.

Sometimes, having a mute around was a good thing. Especially when that man could single-

handedly take out five men all on his own.

Bruno grasped the girls arm and dragged her down the remaining steps.
“Why are you doing this?”
Surprised she hadn’t screamed when she had the opportunity. “He’s our friend. We don’t leave our

friends to die.”

Rigo took hold of her as Bruno laid the man in the corner of the room and checked to make sure he

still breathed. Those meaty fists could pack a hell of a wallop.

“He’s been down here for years, or so I’ve been told. He’s a pirate. A common criminal. A thug.”
Rigo gave a lopsided grin. “Is there any other way to be?”
She clamped her mouth shut. “I’ve never understood why my cousin keeps him here instead of in the

prison at the fort, but it’s not my place to say anything. After my mother died, I was forced to come here
until I marry. My father is too busy for me.”

Logan was chained to the far wall, shackles binding his legs and hands. He’d been beaten so badly

he barely stood on his own. His one good eye popped open and he grinned.

“Took you long enough, you black bastard.”
Bruno hugged Logan in a crushing embrace and the older man chuckled. “Aye, I missed you too.

How is my daughter?”

Apparently the two needed no interpreter and could understand each other just fine.
Bruno helped his captain stand while Rigo scrambled to find the set of keys on the guard. His hand

shook as he fumbled inside the large pockets. But there were none. He frowned.

“I would try over there,” the girl suggested.
He searched the table and chairs and found them hanging on the wall by the stairs. “Thank you, cara

mia.”

“You’re welcome and you can call me Eliza, not sweet heart.”
“An educated woman.” Rigo nodded in approval. “Do you speak other languages as well as

Italian?”

“Si, Yo sé cuatro idiomas diferentes, incluyendo español.”
Rigo whistled. “Four huh? Impressive. Now do me a favor and show us the way the out then.”
Rigo moved across the room to unfasten the locks. Freedom lurked just beyond the corner. A door

above sounded and they stilled. Then the pounding on the stairs as several red-coated soldiers filtered
down with guns raised and surrounded them.

So much for being free...

Nineteen

It had taken six of them to subdue them and only one guard left to watch the prisoners. Of course, it

might be the iron chains around their wrists that gave the guards their overconfidence. It would be rather
difficult to break them but once they did...escape would be easy.

Bruno strained against the iron once again until he gasped, out of breath. “Did you think they might

break this time as opposed to the last six times you’ve tried?” Rigo just couldn’t help the sarcasm.
Sometimes it just came out of his mouth before it even entered his brain.

Bruno’s brow furrowed and he appeared as if he wished Rigo’s neck were in his hands instead.
The dank, damp smell of the cellar lingered in the air, and Bruno’s boots scraped against gritty

floor as he struggled with his bindings once again. Rigo leaned back against the wall and idly cleaned
under his fingernails. Let the man wear himself out on an impossible task. Rigo would wait for the ideal
opportunity. And there would be one. He always managed to escape at times like this. He just had to be
patient.

The soldiers had placed them on the other side of the long, narrow room but he could still see

Logan around the large barrels of rum if he leaned to the side enough. Wine racks lined the walls as high
as the ceiling and were filled with bottles.

Rigo retrieved one and read the label. “At least we won’t go thirsty.”
Bruno glanced down at him and glared. Rigo shrugged. “What? What happened to your sense of

humor anyway?”

Bruno growled. The violent motions of his hands confused him until Bruno held his hands up above

his head as if in a halo. “Ahh you’re worried about Angel?”

Bruno nodded and slapped a fist into one palm.
“Don’t worry, Blac will take care of her. He won’t let anything happen to the chit, especially since

he’s half in love with her.”

“What’s this about my daughter and Blac?” The booming voice came from across the room.
Rigo’s eyes widened as he searched for an explanation. Was it too late to retract the ill-timed

statement? Rigo cringed at his mistake. “Uh...well...Logan you see—”

“Spit it out, Santiago.” Why did he sound so much like Blac at this moment?
And then the words tumbled from his mouth, in half Spanish and half English. Unfortunately, Logan

being the world traveler that he was, understood every word. Interestingly enough, he didn’t yell or roar
down the rafters as Rigo had imagined he would. Instead, he grew quiet. Frighteningly so.

A loud thunk sounded, followed by another as the guard tumbled down the steps and then a wisp of

canary yellow damask fabric drew Rigo’s eye as Eliza knelt to check the soldier’s pulse.

“Would it really have been such a bad thing if the man had broken his neck?” Rigo drawled.
Her head swiveled to face him. “Yes! I will not have a man’s death on my conscience just because I

am crazy enough to save a stupid pirate’s life.”

He grinned. “Because you like me.”
“I loathe you. But I feel sorry for the big man over there since his only rescue got captured

themselves. It is up to someone a little more competent to save him.”

Rigo frowned at the insult. “Oh? Who do you suggest then?”
She gave an irritated growl and crossed the room to release Logan first. The large man dominated

her, as she barely reached his chest. He thanked her and nodded, rubbing his bruised wrists. The yellow
confection moved toward Bruno next.

Of course, she was going to make him wait — punishing him. He deserved it, but that didn’t mean

he liked it.

When she finally stood before him, she hesitated and frowned. He grinned. “Having second

thoughts?”

“I should just leave you here.”
“But you won’t.”
She glared at him. “No, I won’t.” She released the shackles and they clanged to the ground. “But

that doesn’t mean I don’t hope you trip and fall flat on your face.”

He laughed. She was delightful. Sinfully so. She leaned forward to release the chains around his

wrist and a whiff of lavender assaulted him. Rigo breathed it in, savoring the scent of a woman. It’d been
a mighty long time since he’d had one. Perhaps fate had dropped little miss prudent in his lap for a reason.

“Come, we must go out the tunnel,” she whispered.
“What tunnel?” Logan asked. “I’ve been here three years. I’ve yet to see a tunnel.”
She chuckled. “And here it’s been right under your nose. It was placed here in case there was an

attack from one of the local tribes. The Indians can be very unpredictable.” She crossed to the back of the
cellar and pushed against a large bookshelf.

At her gasp, Rigo rolled his eyes and urged her aside. “Never let it be said that I am unkind.”
Eliza huffed. “And arrogant as well.”
The bookshelf gave way to reveal a dark passage filled with cobwebs. Rigo stepped back with a

grin and said, “Lead the way.”

She drew back in horror which made him laugh again. He was really enjoying her discomfort, and

he didn’t know what the devil had gotten into him since meeting her, but he liked it.

Logan rushed by him and through the cobwebs at an almost dead run. Bruno and Eliza followed,

with Rigo bringing up the rear. Darkness enclosed them, and the scuffle of their boots echoed in the tunnel
as a rat scurried out of the way making Eliza gasp.

When she eased back and bumped into him, he wrapped his hands around her waist. “Are you

afraid, mi amor?”

She swiveled to glare at him over her shoulder. “Heaven’s, no! And do be so kind as to remove

your hands from me this instant.”

Rigo grinned but stepped away. She continued down the narrow corridor at a quicker pace to catch

up. Obviously she didn’t want to stand next to him in the dark. Rigo rubbed his hands together. Or maybe
she did and just didn’t want to admit it.

Ahead, the tunnel ended and Logan shoved through the opening in the ceiling. Light spilled across

the dirt floor and blinded them. Logan climbed up the ladder first and peered out. “We’re in the back yard
still.”

“Yes, you’ll need to cross the yard to the north. There’s a gate at the rear.”Eliza followed him up

and Rigo shoved past Bruno just so he could be the one to stand below her.

“And stop peering up my dress, you disgusting pig.”
Bruno slapped him on the back of the head as he grasped the rungs. “What? I didn’t look...or at least

I couldn’t see anything anyway. She’s wearing too many blasted skirts.”

Rigo emerged from the opening and hauled himself out. Nothing stirred in the back yard except the

leaves on the trees. And they clambered to their feet and headed for the rear gate.

“It’s just beyond the well there.”
Musket fire exploded the silence and flock of birds burst into flight above them. “There they are.

Get them!”

~*~

Movement slowed to a standstill, or perhaps it just seemed that way as Logan De’Haviland

whipped around. Six English soldiers sprinted after them. Rigo grabbed the young woman’s wrist and
yanked her toward the exit. Bruno had reached the stone wall. The scrape of his boots sounded loud in the
eerie silence as he scrambled over it.

Only Logan stood in the way of the soldiers and the rest of the crew. Being captain was ingrained in

him and he braced to face the assault. He would give the others enough time to get away. Besides, he had
a suspicion about the coming events.

One of the soldiers tackled him and he fought back – only for effect because while they struggled to

subdue him, Rigo and the rest could get away.

The weight of so many soldiers finally toppled him and he landed with a thud. They wrenched his

arms behind his back.

Escaping wasn’t an option at this point.
He had an upcoming reunion to look forward to, and he needed to be available when it occurred.

Twenty

Angel followed Blac down Queen Street toward the Market Exchange. She had to double her stride

to keep up. A drunken seaman sprawled just outside one of the taverns and she stepped over his legs just
as the empty rum bottle in his hand dropped and rolled across the ground.

She’d worn her knee breeches and boots, tucking her hair up under a cap, although several strands

had escaped to tickle her neck. They neared the tip of the port at the intersection of Lime Street and Queen
Street. They rounded the corner by one of the two-story wood structures, past the Customs House toward
the north docks.

Barrels of liquid, what she assumed was ale, lined the side of a building beside a large stack of

wood. Trash littered the street and the stench of refuse and rotten food permeated the back alleys. The
forest of masts rose out of the harbor mouth and the salty breeze whipped her face, cooling the
perspiration beading on her skin.

They passed several storage buildings, warehouses, and stores until they cut down an alley. The

passageway widened and was cornered by four large buildings. The two-story structures blocked all the
light, and shadows danced amongst the alcoves. An eerie shiver danced along her spine and she tightened
her grip on his hand. The alley was littered with boxes, filth, empty bottles, and trash. The smell of rot
and age seemed trapped by the overlarge structures surrounding them.

Blac glanced around. “This is the address.”
He tugged her through a gate and into the rear yard of the brick A-frame shop. The building

appeared abandoned and empty. Two dark windows stared down at them from above and she detected no
movement within. A hearth was built into the back corner of the building and the discarded pieces of
broken pewter plates and bowls indicated this had once been a pewter smithy.

“Why are we here?” she whispered.
“I don’t know but stay close by.” Blac seemed to be examining the area, scanning for exits, and

Angel figured she probably should too. But the wooden door swung opened like a wide, gaping mouth and
for long moments no one appeared.

Angel tensed and kept her eyes trained on that door.
The slight breeze wafted through her hair and it seemed even nature held its breath. Waiting.
Blac eased her behind him and moved toward the door, drawing his sword as they walked. Angel

wanted to grab him back. Make him stay put. The urge to scream almost overwhelmed her.

They reached the doorway, and her fists tightened until her nails bit into her palms. Unease slid

down her spine. Her hands reached for his waist as he entered, and he stiffened under her hands.

Angel peered over his shoulder. Red-coated soldiers lined the walls with guns aimed in their

direction. The lieutenant stood in the room’s center.

His short, frail frame seemed dominated by the rest of the soldiers in the room. Not a single dark

hair surrounding the narrow face was out of place.

“Charles.” Blac crossed his arms across his chest.
The lieutenant finished straightening his cuffs, making them wait for a response. “Blac. We meet

again. And I see you’ve kept your word and brought me the girl.”

“I have the commander. I’ll hand him over as soon as I get what I want.”
Charles laughed. “You sound like you think you’re in the position to bargain, Blac. Let me remind

you. You are not.”

Blac shrugged. “Then you don’t wish to have your commanding officer returned to you? Interesting.

I had always taken you for a man who cared about his reputation. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that’s
perhaps all you care about.”

“Indeed,” Charles replied. “You would be right, for the most part. Although, there are one or two

other things I care about. But let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about you!”

Charles stepped toward them, and his hand snaked out to seize Angel by the arm. He dragged her

away. Blac reached for her, but the sound of multiple triggers being cocked stopped him.

Angel’s heart raced as the slightest tick in Blac’s jaw started in earnest. He hadn’t planned on this.

She shifted uneasily and waited to see what happened next. Hopefully, Bruno and Rigo had managed to
get her father free. Now if only she and Blac could escape.

Charles’s hand tightened on her upper arm until she grimaced and pulled away from him. He turned

in her direction. “Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll be with your
father soon enough.”

He shoved her toward his guards and she landed hard at their feet hard. Someone hauled her to feet,

but at least their hold wasn’t near as brutal as the lieutenant’s.

“Now, Blac, where were we? Oh yes, my commander.” Charles waved a hand. Footsteps sounded

and the overweight commander paused on the last step. Angel gasped and clamped both of her hands over
her mouth.

“You’re wondering how he got free?” Charles said. “Well, you see Blac, you’re not the only one

with well paid informants.” The sea of red-coated lackeys parted at the rear of the room. Her newest
crewman, Harry, hung by his jacket over a hook on the door. His face was battered and bruised, with a
swollen nose and lip. His eyes blackened and an egg-sized knot had formed on his left temple with a cut
dribbling blood to his chin.

Angel gasped.
“Foolish boy. He thought he could change his mind. I made sure to teach him the lesson that once

you set things in motion, you cannot renege on your word.” The lieutenant chuckled. “Funny how quick we
learn life’s little lessons.”

“You bastard! He was just a boy!” Angel cried and lunged at Charles. The soldier behind her

grabbed her by the collar of her shirt like he would a dog and chuckled as she struggled, arms flailing.

“I’m sure you were wondering if your plan had worked to free Logan. Well, I thought I’d be

generous today and provide you with the answer.”

Charles laughed at the open-jawed expression on her face. “Oh, don’t cry, my dear. Would you like

to see your father now?”

Angel shook with rage. Her hands fisted, and her jaw clenched until her teeth ached. But then her

father stumbled through the door and everything else faded away. His tall frame barely fit through the
opening, and he had to duck his great head. His gaze met hers as tears scalded a path down her cheeks.

His bruised and battered face softened when he saw her, and he sent her a tiny smile. Angel choked

back a sob. She wanted to run into his arms. She wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be,
when she’d been safe. On her island. Once upon a time...

A hundred scenarios played out in her mind and none of them ended with a happily ever after. Blac

had been right. She’d been searching for a fairy tale where none existed. And one way or another she was
going to come out of this with a broken heart.

Her gaze shifted from her father to Bruno before settling on Blac. She would never be able to get

them all free, and she’d been stupid and naive to ever believe otherwise.

And suddenly, a life without Blac seemed impossible. Pain rose in the back of her throat and

threatened to spill from her mouth in a wail. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, to fall from her chin and
she knew...God had not answered her prayers this morning.

Because this was where she must choose whose life meant the most to her.

Twenty-one

She closed her eyes. But darkness hid nothing.
Two streams of tears coursed down her cheeks and the soft chuckle by her ear reminded her she

wasn’t alone. Angel opened her eyes and stared into the cold depths of Charles’s soulless gaze. The
leering grin taunted her.

“You are upset.”It wasn’t a question. His dark eyes seemed depthless, hollow as he stared at her. “I

would offer some form of comfort, but I’m enjoying this entirely too much.”

Even the daylight mocked her misery. It spilled through the windows and teased the shadows into

fading with its light. The slightest breeze trickled in through the opened windows but offered no relief
from the heat. The lieutenant circled her and his attention strayed every once in a while to her father. “I’ve
waited years for this. Imagined this. And I’ve determined I’m going to go slow and enjoy every second.”

“Why?” she whispered and her chin trembled under the force of her emotions. “Why are you doing

this?”

Those black eyes pinned her to the spot. “You still haven’t pieced together the puzzle yet?” He

crossed his fingers behind his back. “I was very young when my father remarried. I remember how
beautiful Elizabeth was, small, delicate, and very serene. She had hair as bright as the full moon and
slender hands.”

Something triggered a memory of her mother’s hands ,and Angel stilled. Quivers racked her body

and she struggled to appear brave. But her false bravado almost faltered as he leaned close to her and
smiled. He enjoyed her fear. Even with this knowledge, she could not cease the tremors.

Her father’s words returned to her. Bravery is not the lack of fear but standing your ground when

you are afraid.

She planted her feet and met Charles’s gaze. I will not let fear win.
“Your mother was the only mother I ever had. I was nine when your father kidnapped her. I swore

even then I would make him pay.” Charles turned to Logan to growl out the last of that sentence. “But the
day she chose you...over me...well, my revenge turned into something deeper.”

Hatred. Of me.
A shiver raced along her spine, and apprehension settled deep within her belly. She almost shrank

away from him but tamped down the urge.

“’Tis a pity it’s almost over. I have enjoyed this, to tell the truth. I was quite surprised when you

stole Blac’s ship and declared war with me. Surprised and...amused.”

Charles snapped his heels together and circled her once more before he moved closer to her father.

He seemed to study her father intently and without any words. But not too close she noted. He feared her
father.

Intrigued, she watched them closely.
Logan stood almost an entire head and shoulders over the lieutenant. Charles dusted off the sleeve

of his coat and tapped his cane on the floor three times. “Although, your father gave me quite the challenge
himself, so you will understand why I have lost all patience.”

The lieutenant whipped around and pointed to Blac. “Blac, my friend. You must understand your

usefulness has run out. Understand, dear man, this is business...well mostly business. I will confess to a
tad bit of pleasure at seeing you die. Your arrogance knows no bounds, and I honestly cannot wait to
watch you draw your last breath, knowing you could not outmaneuver me...old man.”

Blac strained against the soldiers holding him, and it took three of them to subdue him, dragging him

to his knees. Even then, he lunged forward until the man behind him cracked him in the back of the head
with the hilt of his sword.

Blac collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap. Angel heard the scream but didn’t realize it had

been her own until the hand clamped over her mouth. The soldier behind her held tight, smashing her lips
against her teeth so hard she tasted the bitter bite of blood.

Her father didn’t move. Instead he watched Charles. With an almost indiscernible shake of his head,

he glanced at her, telling her to wait.

But for what?
“Well, that took the fun out of it. I had looked forward to seeing his eyes when I killed him.”

Charles scolded the soldier with a lift of his cane. “Ahh well, at least I have the other two to play with.”

“Do not be so hasty, my son. Barclay can still be of some use to us yet.”A well-dressed gentleman

with a short close-cropped white wig stepped into the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Indeed, we could kill them all and lay the blame at Barclay’s feet. After all, this is what happens during
a jealous rampage, and then the crown would never even have to know of our involvement a’tall.”

The man was as tall as her father. Perhaps not as large or as muscular, but he had a familiarity to

him she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The extra twenty pounds, all of which hung over his waistband, told a life of luxury and laziness.

But the strong angle of his chin with the slightest cleft in its center seemed familiar. Had she seen this man
somewhere before?

Cold, dark eyes strayed from her to her father. “Logan.”
She swung her gaze to her father. Her father gave a tight smile and his dark gaze hardened. “Philip. I

was wondering when you would show your face.”

“You cannot imagine how long I have waited for this,” Phillip said as he strolled casually toward

Logan.

Angel tensed, the escalating tension crackled in the air. The shuffle of feet scraping across the gritty

floor sounded unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.

“Probably for as long as I have,” Logan replied with a leer. “After all, we both knew years ago it

would end this way.”

“Indeed. I couldn’t have written a better ending to the story if I’d written it myself,” Phillip replied

with a nod.

“Oh, but you did,” Logan reminded him. “Don’t think I have forgotten why we find ourselves here in

the first place, Viscount Worthington.”

A strange look passed between the two men, and Angel sensed that she’d missed something

significant. How did her father know this man?

Phillip chuckled and grabbed the lieutenant’s cane from him to swing it back and forth. “You

should’ve known I wouldn’t sit back and accept your betrayal without retaliation of my own.”

“You should review your history, considering I learned betrayal from the best.”
“Indeed.”The viscount swung the cane in a loop. “Shrewdness runs in the family.” He turned toward

Angel and stared at her for several minutes. The silence stretched between them. With a sweep of his arm
he indicated himself and her father. “This is the end result when two men love the same woman.”

Her brow furrowed. What was going on? Some distant memory flitted through the dark recesses of

her mind. Her mother’s face flashed and she waited for some sort of explanation.

“If I recall, it wasn’t the woman you loved. It was the title and money you were after, the woman

was just an extra added bonus...brother.”

~*~

Logan watched. Waited.
It’d been over twenty years since he’d seen Phillip’s face. The years hadn’t been as kind to him.

Stress had etched deep lines in his face — the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth. Logan
assumed he would find a balding head under that horrible white wig.

He should’ve killed Phillip years ago when he’d had the chance. But he’d let Elizabeth talk him out

of it. The memory of her gentle blue eyes still haunted him. And he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d failed
the woman he’d loved so dearly. For he’d promised her he’d always protect their daughter.

And now their daughter was in the hands of a madman.
His very own brother.
But the thought of killing his own flesh and blood made him ill. Even now. Memories of their

childhood remained fresh in his mind, and he’d loved his brother. But Phillip threatened the one thing in
his life that Logan refused to bargain for. Angel had become his life, and he would not lose her to his
brother’s insanity.

He had to keep his brother’s attention on him and away from Angel. At all cost.
“She looks so much like Elizabeth,” Phillip said, one of his hands reached out to clasp a single

flaxen lock on her shoulder. Angel jerked in response. “I must admit I have missed my wife dreadfully all
these years.”

“Well, you can rest assured you never crossed her mind again,” Logan taunted, his hands curling

into tight fists. He didn’t want the bastard touching his daughter, and bitterness churned in his gut. “You
betrayed me. You set me up. You made sure the authorities found that shipment of guns on my property.
Tell me why.”

Phillip chuckled. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“You sent the anonymous missive and had me arrested. After all, with me out of the way, you would

inherit the title, the lands, everything.”

“You can’t prove it.”
Logan swallowed down the rage. “And then you did the most horrific thing any man could ever do.

Once I ran away, you forced yourself on Elizabeth so that she was obligated to marry you, despite the fact
that she still loved me. Tell me brother...how does it feel to know you will always come in second place?
To know that you could never please her as I did?”

Phillip bellowed his fury and raised his cane over his head. Logan lifted his bound hands, the

rattling chains stopped the angry descent of the staff. Logan seized the end of the cane in one hand and
jerked Phillip forward.

But a sword slid out of the cane’s encasing and they both stumbled back. Phillip stared at the blade,

peering closely to the tiny details embedded within the shiny steel. His dark eyes moved beyond the blade
to Logan, who tossed aside the useless end of the cane.

“Hmm, what an ingenious contraption, son,” he murmured.
The lieutenant smiled and crossed his hands behind his back. “I knew you would appreciate it,

Father.”

“Indeed, my opinion of your intellect just spiked a few degrees higher. Apparently, you’re not the

imbecile I’ve longed believed.”

Charles frowned but didn’t say another word.
Phillip wielded the weapon in a figure eight. The swish of air as the blade cut through it echoed in

the silence. Tension swelled within the room.

A quick thrust in Logan’s direction had him dodging to the right. Hindered by chains, his movements

were clumsy, slow. But that was how Phillip fought. Fair wasn’t a word in his vocabulary. It hadn’t been
since they were boys.

Phillip lunged again. The scrape of metal screeched into the silence as Logan used the chain to

block the blow. Another attack, and Logan wrapped the chains around the blade, yanking it from the
viscount’s grasp. It clattered to the ground several feet away.

Phillip stumbled and righted himself. One fist shot out and connected with Logan’s jaw. He shook

his head to clear the dizziness and straightened. “You’ll need to do better than that, brother.”

Phillip raised his hand to strike again, but Logan tackled him. The two fell to the ground in a tangle

of limbs. Dust billowed and swirled under their struggling forms as they each tried to garner the upper
hand.

Rage consumed him. Years of deception assailed him with images and a red haze fell over his

vision. His only sight was of the past. Logan wrapped both hands around Phillips neck and squeezed until
his eyes bulged under the pressure. Phillip choked, grasping at the hands cutting off air.

The sight of the musket barrel entering his vision and aimed at his temple gave him pause. Logan

didn’t release Phillip but he eased up on the pressure enough that Phillip could breathe. He sat back just a
little and glared up at the younger man.

The lieutenant leered. “As much as I am enjoying this little piece of drama, I must insist you release

my father. I’m not quite ready to kill you...yet.”

Phillip coughed and caught his breath. Crawling to his knees, he shoved Logan off of him. “If he

makes another move, kill his daughter,” he ordered.

“A coward as usual,” Logan said. “You always did hide behind someone else, Phillip. You never

could face me man to man.” Logan stepped away from Phillip, tamping down the rage. Ever since he
could remember, his brother had been a coward.

“I like to call it wisdom. After all, why do all the filthy work when a man can just get others to do it

for you,” Phillip protested and staggered to his feet. “Seems stupid to waste so much energy on
inconsequential activities. When you’re as rich as I am, you don’t need friends. That, my dear brother, is
the benefit of money.”

“Apparently, you don’t need honor either.”
Phillip slowly tilted his head to the right and straightened his spine. “Honor is for the weak-minded.

And you mistake me for a man who cares, Logan.” He straightened his overcoat and brushed the dust from
the material. “But I digress,” he murmured.

“You’d have to have a heart to care.”
“And we’ve already established that I don’t so let’s move on. Shall we?” Phillip shuffled across

the floor to Angel and circled her. “She is stunning, dear brother. Exquisite. I can’t decide if I wish to go
on with the original plan to kill her while you watch or sell her into slavery. She would make a hell of a
courtesan, my friend.”

Logan lurched forward with a roar as several hands shot out and clamped down on his arms to stay

him. Logan dragged the men with him several steps before they tackled him to the floor. “You touch one
hair on her head, Phillip, and I’ll gut you like the pig you are.”

Phillip chuckled but took a step back. “This will be more fun than I imagined.” He paused before

Angel and lost his smile. “You are very much like your mother, dear girl. I must say, seeing you has re-
opened an old wound on my heart.”

“I thought you didn’t have one,” Angel reminded him.
Phillip smirked. “She’s astute as well. After your mother’s betrayal, I knew there was no way I

could allow her and Logan to live happily. And then I learned there had been a child of the union. What a
delightful discovery. What better form of revenge than cutting out the heart of my adversary? And you my
dear, will provide me with the means to do that.”

Phillip reached out to grasp her chin and raise her face to him, but she yanked away from him. He

gave a tight smile in return. “And to think you were delivered into my waiting arms by your own lover.”

~*~

There were so many feet stirring up the stale dust inside the tiny room, she coughed. The heat of so

many packed bodies made the temperature in the already scorching room rise.

Perspiration trickled down the side of her cheek to drop off her jaw. Drip, drip, drip, water

dribbled into a puddle somewhere and caused her mouth to dry. Nothing had turned out as she had
imagined. Nothing had gone right, from the moment they had come up with this crazy plan. Luck had

deserted her long ago, and uncertainty clouded her mind. How would she manage to get them out of this
mess now?

Blac came to at that moment and stirred on the ground. Relief washed through her and her eyes

misted. He sat up and met her gaze. But several sabers surrounded him and he raised his hands, climbing
to his knees. His eyes cautioned her to show no emotion but she couldn’t help it. She loved him. She
wasn’t ready to lose him or her father yet.

Phillip turned to Blac. “Ahh, he’s awake again. Excellent. Just in time too.”
“Time for what?” Blac asked, shaking his head.
Phillip retrieved the sword from the ground. He snatched Angel from the man who held her and

yanked her back against him, the blade settling at the base of her throat. She gasped.

Paralyzed with terror, Angel ceased to breath and her heart pounded against her rib cage. The vise

of his arm against her neck cut off any air. She clawed at the hands holding her, struggling to free herself,
but the blade entered her vision. “One more move, Angel, and you’ll watch your blood spill across the
ground.”

Her glance moved to Blac. He struggled against the arms that had captured him. Men subdued her

father, but he heaved one of the soldiers to the ground before another took his place. Logan roared his
fury.

They were outnumbered six-to-one. They were outgunned and all the odds were in the viscount’s

favor.

Time had run out.

Twenty-two

A low rumble sprang up from beneath their feet. The viscount’s arm loosened just a little as he

steadied himself. Confusion ran through the room as the redcoats toppled like toy soldiers, one atop the
other. Angel glanced to Blac with widened eyes, gripping the viscount’s arm in utter terror. “What’s that
sound?”

Blac shook his head. The sound grew louder. The ground beneath them shook as glass shattered.

Everyone seemed to pause in slow motion as realization dawned on them.

“Earthquake!” Blac shouted and bound from his position on the floor toward her. The soldiers let

him go as panic rushed through the ranks. Blac shoved the sword away from her throat and sent a fist into
Phillip’s face. The viscount crumpled to the floor.

“Don’t let Logan get away,” the viscount shouted, trying to lumber to his feet.
Logan roared in fury but several men pinned him down. “Get her out of here, Blac. I’ll cover you.”

Two more men leapt into the fray and Logan toppled to the floor under the mound of redcoats. Angel
screamed through the hand covering her mouth.

Blac hesitated.
“Get her...out...of here,” Logan bellowed from under the pile of bodies.
Blac seized her wrist and dragged her to the doorway, but she struggled against the hold. “Papa! I

can’t leave him. Please!”

But Blac hauled her to the door, ignoring her protests.
She squinted at the brilliance of the sun as her eyes adjusted to the light. The waves in the harbor

heaved and tossed the ships about like toys until one of the docks splintered in half before her very eyes.
The horrid sound of wood crackling as ships bashed into each other seemed eerie under the roar of
extremely high waves.

The house next to them disappeared into the ground as if it had been sucked down into the earth like

a whirlpool.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as realization of what was happening hit her. Blac dragged her

around the building. He shoved people out of their way until they reached the front, just as another shop
next to them sank beneath the surface.

Glancing back, she screamed. “Papa!”
She turned to search for her father but Blac’s hand around her wrist stayed her. A whole section of

the wharves trembled like waves on land before it collapsed into the depths of the sea.

I don’t want to die!
The terrain crackled behind her and spread. No matter how fast they ran, it followed behind them.

We’re going to die!

“Run, damn it! Angel, run!”
Fighting tears, she heaved air into her lungs, and her sides burned from the effort as they cut through

the alleyways toward High Street. Fear skittered down her spine. Her feet pumped harder but no matter
how fast she ran it didn’t seem to be fast enough. Blac’s vise-like grip on her wrist jerked her along
behind him, and her skin stung in protest.

Completely aware of her feet moving forward, Angel felt her steps drag as if she were slogging

through waist-high water. Time slowed until it ticked second by second.

An explosion rocked the ground beneath Angel and more of the earth behind her vanished,

swallowed up by Mother Nature herself. Nature’s rampage cast her wrath on Port Royal, shattering the
serenity of this warm, sunny afternoon. Cries rent the air along with what sounded like claps of thunder, as
building after building crumbled under the weight of the earth’s fist.

Thick clouds of dust sprang up and wafted back down around them, choking off any source of clean

air. Is this where we die?

Blac yanked her to the right and they tumbled to the hard packed ground, just as the split in the earth

lengthened, ingesting the ground they had just vacated.

Stunned, Angel gulped in air. Her knees stung from the fall and the stitch in her side rent heavy

gasps from her. She paused. Her gaze settled across the street to the only building left intact. A man lifted
a half-empty bottle of liquor to his lips as he walked out the front door and another scrambled to his feet.
But the earth gave way beneath him. Just before he plummeted into the abyss, he latched onto the ledge
and cried out in horror. The drunkard stared down at him and took another drink. The man’s pleas for help
ripped Angel’s heart from her chest.

She eased to her knees, set on making it across the way to grab his hand, but the entire house

dissipated before her eyes. She gasped and toppled back on her rear, clapping a palm over her mouth in
an attempt to stifle her scream. Dazed, her entire body shook with fear.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done for them, Angel.” Blac caught her face in his strong hands.

“Nothing. Now get up and keep moving.”

She knew he spoke the truth but her mind didn’t want to listen. Her heart ached at her inability to

save another life, at the helplessness she felt as the world crashed around her.

Tremors rippled across the surface of the street and her eyes widened. “Is there another one?”
Blac scrambled to his feet again and tugged her up with him. “Get up. We have to get to higher

ground. Now!”

“Why?”
He didn’t answer her as they dodged running people and zigzagged their way through the back

alleys. Chaos ensued all around them. He slammed through a gate and into a courtyard. Before they
reached the entrance to the building, another rumble shook the earth, followed by an ear-splitting roar.

“What is that?” she cried out, gripping his hand. Terror seized her heart in its desperate grasp and

planted her feet. Frozen in place, a shriek lodged in her throat. Angel sensed death over her shoulder.

She whipped around and spied a ten-foot high wall of water crashing through the middle of the

town. Her eyes widened.

“Run!” Blac shouted.
She darted into the house behind him and up the stairs. They reached a veranda. He glanced around

frantically searching for something and then leaned over the side of the rail. Clasping her wrist, he
dragged her to the edge. “Jump!”

“What?” Had he lost his mind?
The monster-like wave hit the side of the house and toppled the far wall behind them. Glass

shattered under the force, and the plaster splintered into a thousand pieces. She shrieked, turned, and
together they jumped off the edge.

Both feet hit the wagon beneath them with a thud and her legs buckled underneath her. Pain jarred

her knees as she collapsed, and the wall of water swept under the wagon, lifting it in its palm, carrying
them in its grasp.

Angel clung to the front of the wagon. Blac settled in behind her with an arm on either side of her.

The wagon tilted dangerously and teetered on the tip of the wave, slinging Blac off his feet.

She seized his arm and shrieked his name.
Oh my God, don’t let us die!
He regained his footing and clutched the side of the wagon. Ocean spray splattered across her face

and soaked her hair. A three-story structure loomed ahead of them. They were going to crash right into
it!

Angel pointed but there was no way they could steer this damn thing. Blac reached an arm around

her waist and settled inside the wagon with his back against the side and her between his legs. His arms

covered her head and he sheltered her entire body with his own. “I love you, Angel,” he whispered in her
ear.

Before she could reply, they collided with the building at full speed.

~*~

Wood fragmented all around Angel, and suddenly she sank into the waves. She screamed but her

mouth filled with salt water instead. The force of the impact separated them, and she was yanked from
Blac’s grasp. She reached for Blac but was inhaled into the deepest brine.

Thrashing to grasp hold of anything solid, she slammed into the wall behind her and cracked her

head against the brick. She cried out. Pain ricocheted down her neck and red swirls entered her vision as
she realized it was her blood. With her lungs nearly bursting for lack of air, she swam for the surface and
broke through with a gasp of relief.

The pressure of the wave smothered any source of air and water rose until she could no longer keep

her head above it.

She sank beneath the tide and bobbed back up. Her gaze swept the area. Blac, knocked unconscious,

was pinned against the same wall, his chin hanging against his chest.

Was he dead?
Her heart fluttered to a stop. She struggled to swim toward him but the force of the raging water

kept her immobile, flattened against the wall. She gasped. She had to reach him. With her legs, she pushed
against the bricks but sprang back once again. Two inches gained at best.

“Blac!” Fluid filled her mouth and drowned out his name. She coughed. Damn it! Frustration

elicited tears and urged her forward.

She inched toward him. The pressure against her chest threatened to cave in her lungs, and she

collapsed into a coughing fit. One of her hands brushed against the fabric of his shirt, and she grasped it to
pull him closer.

Glancing up as the remains of a wrecked ship bobbled toward them, she braced herself and closed

her eyes. It missed her by mere inches, but the wall behind her gave way. They were both swept along
with the wave.

Blac! She’d lost contact with him.
The wall of water hurtled her down the street. Swim!
Refusing to die like this, determined to live, she kicked her way to the surface and looked for

something to cling to. The remains of the ship drifted toward her and she kicked her legs, reaching out and
finally grasping the edge.

Angel clung to the broken piece of wood and all strength left her body. Blackness caved in around

her for mere seconds.

Jerking awake as the water, receded she inhaled air. Her feet found solid ground and she wobbled

on shaky legs. Shock seized hold of her, and hysteria threatened to overcome her. Tremors wracked her
body, and she stumbled to her knees.

I’m alive!
Sobs shook her frame, and relief washed over her. Her fingers sank into the muddied ground which

oozed between her digits. Numb, she stayed on all fours and cried.

She couldn’t breathe and her heart raced inside her chest. Every muscle inside her body ached. Her

arms quivered and collapsed to her elbows as her forehead fell to the damp earth imprinting itself into the
ground.

I’m alive! I’m alive.
Blac! She snapped her head back up. I have to find him!
Lugging herself to her feet, she headed back toward the devastated town. Sopping wet, moisture

plastered Angel’s hair to her face and neck as she slogged through the knee-high water. Blac! Where was

he?

She called his name. Hefting a broken piece of debris from the water, she shivered. “Blac! Please

answer me!”

The ground slanted, and she stumbled to her knees in the water. A pale corpse floated by her and

she screamed, shooting to her feet in fear. Her hands shook as she covered her mouth, peering around.
Most of the city had vanished, as if into thin air. What few buildings remained were skeletal structures of
what they’d once been.

A hazy fog clouded her vision and she struggled to focus on anything. Why? Why did this happen?
Papa! Had she lost them both?
She glanced down the street in the distance. The entire north end of the town and pier were under

water. Ships anchored in the bay had sunk under the force of the tide and many of their tall peaks gouged
the surface of the water like weeds.

Devastation and debris floated on the surface of the water. She dug through chunks of wood and

pulled up a broken bowl. She tossed it behind her and kept digging.

Angel coughed and tears burned behind her eyelids. Blac! Where could he be?
The water level receded slowly, and she trudged through the muddied liquid. Dread swept over her

as she wrapped her arms around her middle. Chills surfaced across her skin and her teeth chattered. More
bodies surfaced as she searched the area. Vomit rose in her throat.

How could this have happened? Why now? How had things gone so wrong?
She called out for her father. Alone in the middle of the water-filled street, she aimlessly turned

around. Lost. Scared. Exhausted. She could barely summon the strength to put one foot in front of the
other, and her voice grew softer as the futility of her situation finally hit her.

Her hands covered her face as she crashed to her knees and cried. The thought of never seeing her

father again or having Blac’s arms around her sent huge shafts of pain through her chest. Ragged sobs
wracked her body, and the force of the tears as they spewed from her eyes hurt. Mindless, numbing
despair assailed her, and she simply could not get up anymore.

I’ve lost both my father and Blac now...I have no one...I’m all alone.
She swallowed around the lump of fear that clogged her throat. An eerie silence filled the air as the

water wafted back out to the sea, taking with it the remains of a town lost to an early grave. A town that
had paid for its sin in death.

So many people...dead. So much life lost. The British crown jewel had lost its luster; the only

remains of its splendor lay in broken heaps of ruins.

She plunged her hands down into the water and something wrapped around them. Frowning, she

lifted the remains of someone’s silk red dress. She tugged at it until the trapped material pulled free and
the body of a young girl emerged. Angel hurled the fabric away from her and gagged. She watched the
body sink back into the waiting arms of the water due to the weight of the dress. No older than fifteen, the
girl’s green eyes were frozen in death and her lips blue from the chill in the water.

Angel screamed and screamed. The sound echoed in the vast emptiness and only reminded her of

just how alone she really was.

Something nudged her elbow and she turned to see a hat with a long yellow feather floating past her

toward the mouth of town, which had long since disappeared. She reached out for the hat and crushed it to
her chest. The feather tickled her wet nose and her heart squeezed so tight she feared it would split.

Blac couldn’t leave her. Not now!
She scrambled to her feet and sloshed through the mire back the way she’d come. Frantically, she

searched some more.

Minutes, or perhaps hours passed, and she pressed through the knee-high water, barely able to put

one foot in front of the other. Misery cloaked her and wrapped her in its embrace. She could not shake the

fear of being alone for the first time in life, and hope had long since vanished.

When Blac had told her she’d been sheltered, she’d never believed him until now. Now she knew

her father had shielded her from the horror of the world, and for once she was grateful for it. For now
faced with the shocking truth of reality, Angel’s only wish was that she could return to the way things
were.

A flash of white caught her attention and she paused. What was that? She squinted to see through the

gloom and misty haze that had settled over the area. She ran through the muck.

“Blac!” she yelled. “Blac!”
Relief washed over her and whooshed from her chest. He lay bent over the remaining rubble of a

wall, but he wasn’t moving. She rushed forward and knelt, lifting his head to peer into his face. Leaning
close, she listened. His breath was shallow, but he lived!

“Blac! Oh my God! Please stay with me.” Her heart thundered inside her chest as she attempted to

lift him away from the wall but he wouldn’t budge. She cursed.

Racing around to the other side, she knelt and wiggled her shoulder in between Blac and the wall.

Bracing her feet, she used her legs to lift him from the wall onto her shoulder.

She struggled and tears coursed down her cheeks. “Please, stay with me. I can’t live without you. I

don’t want to live without you!” She chanted to him, over and over again how much she loved him, as if
her words alone would wake him. “Please God,” she prayed. “I will do anything. Just please bring him
back to me.”

“Anything, huh?”
Angel collapsed in relief, her hands curled into the fabric of his shirt. He ran a hand over her wet

hair. “Angel love, look at me,” Blac commanded.

Attempting to control her anguish, she peered up at him through watery eyes. He cupped her cheeks.

“I love you too, but my legs are pinned. You must try to lift this beam behind me.”

She nodded and scrambled to her feet and peered around him. Sure enough, a large, fractured wood

beam trapped his feet against the half wall. She choked. “I can’t do this...I don’t think I can do this...”

“Angel.” His tone was harsh to get her attention. “You must. Now try to free my legs.”
Taking a deep breath, she wrapped both arms around the large beam and heaved. It didn’t budge.

Not even an inch. Weak from exhaustion and emotional trauma, she attempted to move it again. But again
nothing happened.

“Try again,” he whispered. “Don’t give up now.”
Angel maneuvered herself, one foot on either side of the beam, and hoisted it in her arms. It moved

slightly but toppled back down. Frustration and anger gave strength to her arms and she tried again. This
time it moved.

But before she could celebrate even that smallest victory a hand in her hair yanked her back. She

collided with a wide chest, and the viscount’s face entered her peripheral vision. “You didn’t think you
really got away, did you?”

Soured breath assaulted her and she cringed. How had he lived? Of all the people in Port Royal

who’d died, why had he been allowed to live? Her hands clawed at his arms as she fought against him.
Blood from a wound on his forehead ran down the side of his face and smeared across her cheek. “Let me
go!”

He laughed. Those dark eyes took on an eerie sheen as if he had lapsed into madness. Angel reared

back and nailed him in the nose with the back of her head. He howled and let her go.

“Run, Angel!” Blac yelled out.
Her feet took flight and she raced through the mire down an alley with half-standing buildings on

either side. She glanced back briefly to see the viscount following her in a steady, unhurried pace.

Horror seized her as she turned the corner because she knew she had nowhere to hide.

Twenty-three

Blac roared his frustration as the viscount strode down the alley after Angel.
He strained against the beam, but his legs were too weak to move the impediment. Helpless, anger

knotted in his gut and gnashed his teeth together. He shouted obscenities at the viscount to get his attention,
but he knew it was useless. Why would the viscount bother with a man who was already on the last legs
of life, when the object of his fascination was scared and running down an alley with nowhere to hide?

Blac gasped and placed a palm over the burning stitch in his side. His hand came away smeared

with blood where the broken slither of wood had embedded within his side during the impact in the
wagon. The wound was close to his most vital organs. He was losing a lot of blood, and it weakened him.

He’d been happy that in Angel’s incoherent state, she hadn’t noticed the entrenched piece of wood

in his side. But he cursed himself now for not having her patch him up while they’d had the chance. Now
he was trapped and bleeding like a stuck pig.

He growled.
The warmth of the liquid coasted down his side to soak into the cool, damp cloth of his breeches. If

he could withdraw the sliver of wood from his flesh, he might be able to staunch the flow. But he wasn’t
sure he could reach it. What made it worse was even if he could, it was too far around his side to
comfortably apply pressure to the wound for long.

He was dying.
Death had never been a fear of his. Until now. He closed his eyes and Angel’s face appeared.

Cursing God and his own inability to protect the one person in his life who’d loved him wholeheartedly,
Blac tried to heave the heavy beam off his calves once again. He couldn’t give up now.

~*~

Washed out remains of half walls and fractured structures were all that remained in this part of the

town. Angel slogged through knee-high water.

The further she went, the higher the flood waters grew. The sky darkened under the cloud of

destruction and dust. It hung over the area like a shroud and settled heavily in her lungs. But it was the
silence that alarmed her. There were no voices, no screams, no sounds of activities, as if every person in
town had simply been wiped away with a brush of nature’s wand. Trepidation settled in her weak
stomach and caused it to churn.

Her heart pounded inside her chest and she glanced around, searching for some place to hide. The

most horrible, sour smell assaulted her as she moved between the half buildings. She kept her back to the
brick wall and slipped inside a half opened door. The building had lost its roof and large sections of the
south wall. Darkness encased her and fear enveloped her in its grasp.

She attempted to shush her breathing and glanced outside the opened door to see if the viscount had

followed her. She strained to hear anything. A steady trickle of water dripped somewhere close by. Its
steady trickle ticked each second by. She held her breath. Ducking back inside the building, she glanced
around.

It was a large brick structure. A warehouse of some kind full of large boxes and crates, many of

them smashed, lying across the ground in large pieces. The stairs in the back had been washed out. She
plodded across the room to a rather large shipping crate where the wave had tossed it against the north
wall. Leaning against it, she pushed with her legs until it moved. The slush of water seemed loud in the
unnatural silence.

Sweat beaded on her brow as she climbed atop it. She jumped and grasped the remaining rail on the

stairs above. She hung there for several seconds but she heard the slosh of water outside and froze.

In mid-air, her heart pattered to a stop before it slowly increased in rhythm until it hammered

against her ribs. Then she heard him call her name.

“I know you’re here somewhere. I’ll find you eventually, my dear. There is nowhere to hide.” There

was something sinister in the calmness of his tone, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

He wasn’t in a hurry to find her. He planned to enjoy the chase before the kill. Her arms began to

tremor as she hung there. Swinging one leg up, her heel clunked on the bottom step and she paused,
praying he hadn’t heard it.

Angel pulled herself up and plopped on the stairs, exhausted. She caught her breath and crawled up

the rest of the way. A shadow passed by the door and she lay down on her stomach, watching the door.

“Angel, dear. Where are you?”
He peeked inside the door. His shadow fell across the water on the floor, each ripple a reminder of

her impending death. She lay absolutely still in the dark. He waded in, peered into every crevice on the
first floor, and scanned the upper level.

Angel held her breath and closed her eyes. Terror kept her still. Please, let the darkness be enough

to hide her.

Don’t move. Don’t breathe.
Please God, don’t let him see me.
Silence greeted her and she popped open her eyes. He paused in the doorway still and he appeared

to be searching closely in her general direction. Her palms moistened. Fear clawed its way into her chest
and gripped her heart.

Ready to spring at a moment’s notice, her muscles tightened for flight.
But he shrugged and moved back outside the door. The breath whooshed from her chest and she

dropped her head to the damp rug. She’d never been so frightened in her life.

She waited but a moment before she moved to get up. But the shadow refilled the doorway and he

stood there. His laugh echoed inside the nearly bare warehouse, and she froze.

Her gaze swung eased to him as he entered. Fear leapt up and swallowed any sound she may have

made. Her heart pattered to a stop and then sprang from her chest.

His dark eyes pinned her to the spot and he grinned. A sinister smile smoothed across his features

as if he enjoyed her fear. His movements were measured. Precise. Confident. He knew he would catch
her. And he would enjoy it.

“Now Angel, do be a dear and come down from there.” He started across the room. “I can see I’m

going to have come up there.”

Angel burst into action and tore down the hallway. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She glanced into

each room as she past. Nothing, but broken furniture, wood, papers, and debris littered the rooms. Some
of them were completely empty. When she reached the end of the hall she ducked into the last room. It too
was empty.

Panic seized her and a scream spilled from her mouth. The window had shattered and she moved to

it to peer out. Nothing but a narrow ledge. Her heart tripped.

She couldn’t jump. She’d break her legs and be helpless. A sound in the hall made her crawl

outside the window without another thought, and she balanced on the ledge, her back and hands to the
wall.

Oh my God, why am I doing this? I’m going to fall and die!
Another crash sounded as the viscount searched for her. Angel carefully rounded the corner and a

huge pile of mud and silt had piled up against the outside wall. She balanced on the narrow ledge.

If she could make it there, she could slide down the mud and run back toward Blac. Perhaps even

free him this time. But there were several windows between here and there. Uncertain which room the
viscount was in, she hesitated to pass by each window and ducked to peer in each one.

She made it to the last one. Should she peer in to make sure he wasn’t there, or take a leap of faith

and scuttle across the last few feet to the mound of mud?

Drawing a deep breath she started across, but something made her pause. And before she lost her

nerve, she ducked down to peer into the room. The hand broke through the glass and grabbed her by the
neck, yanking her inside.

She landed on the floor with a thud and whacked the back of her head against the floor. Wincing,

Angel gasped. The viscount leaned down into her vision, his dark eyes alight with a strange sheen. “You
didn’t really think you’d get away, did you?”

Angel scrambled to her feet and eyed him warily. “You don’t really believe you can kill us all and

get away with it, do you?”

He appeared to consider her words and then nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I’m going to

enjoy squeezing the life out of you while I am at it. After all, this earthquake has given me the perfect way
out.”

She panted, alarmed at his nearness. She backed away but he followed her, step for step. The white

strands of his hair stood on end atop his head as it had dried. A tiny slip of drool dribbled from the corner
of his mouth, and he licked it up.

The drum of her heart reverberated in her head as she glanced around. Hope leapt inside her chest.

He’d made a mistake. By tossing her on the floor, it had put her closer to the door. Poised for flight, Angel
sprinted for the door just as he stepped toward her. But she wasn’t fast enough and he caught her by the
hair.

Damn her long hair!
She cried out as he reeled her in. The sting brought fresh tears to her eyes and his horrid breath

rushed across her cheek. His arms captured her, one wrapping around her middle and the other seized her
neck.

Angel fought his hold, but he clamped down on her arms hard. His vise-like hold prohibited any

movement.

He chuckled. The warmth of his breath fanned her cheek and chills chased along her spine. He

would kill her now. Panic widened her gaze and withered away all hope. His grasp tightened slowly and
he chuckled as she struggled against him. She clawed, scratched, and screamed until her breath ran out.

Tears of frustration and failure coursed tracks down her cheeks. Oh, Blac I’m so sorry.
And suddenly the choice she should have made became so clear to her as death enveloped her in its

dark grasp. Blac and her life with him should’ve always been her first priority.

She loved her father, but he’d had a wonderful life with her mother. He would have wanted the

same for her, but she’d lost her chance at her happily-ever-after.

~*~

Sweat formed and slid down the side of Blac’s cheek. He strained against the beam trapping his

legs. His vision blurred in and out. He shook his head and concentrated on the task.

He couldn’t give up now. Just another inch and he would be free. Angel had moved it just enough to

allow for some wiggle room. Now he just had to wriggle his way out.

His vision wavered once more and he gulped in air. He couldn’t fail. Not when Angel faced a

madman.

Blood completely soaked the entire left side of his clothes and had begun to pool inside his boot,

creating a sucking noise as he moved. Seconds later, he gave one last heave and his entire foot slipped out
of the boot. The beam tumbled backward with a loud clunk.

Angel!
Discarding the boot, Blac wobbled on his feet toward the back alley. Just keep him busy for me,

Angel. I’ll be right there.

He stumbled forward and his head swam amongst shadows for mere seconds. Shaking his head, he

reached the corner of the building and leaned against the brick wall. He was weakening.

Darkness lingered on the edges of his consciousness and he struggled to push it away. Just a little

longer God. Let me save her and then you can take me. I’ll be happy to go with you as long as I know
she’s safe.

Regaining some strength, determination moved his feet forward. He clumped down the darkened

alley, unbalanced due to the lack of a boot and unsteady due to loss of blood.

A terror-filled howl rent the air.

~*~

A single stomp to the instep loosened the viscount’s hold. Angel reared back and cracked the

viscount’s nose, rending the silence in the room.

The anger-filled roar followed in her wake as she rushed out the door back down the hallway.

She’d had enough playing cat and mouse.

Angel returned to the room littered with debris and looked around. Broken vases and glass

scattered across the floor. A damaged desk had been smashed in two pieces, and the matching chair lay in
pieces on the floor. Angel hefted one of the legs like a weapon.

With hushed breath, she moved back to the door and listened. The viscount pounded down the hall

behind her and just as he reached her, she stepped out. Surprise widened his eyes as he skidded to a halt
just before the wood staff whacked him across the temple. He tumbled to the right into the wall.

She swung her make-shift weapon again, cracking his knee. The sound shattered the silence. He

howled in pain and rage.

Sweat trickled down her temple and moistened her hands, and before she could wield her weapon

again, he tackled her to the floor. His weight landed on her, crushing her ribs. She coughed and shrieked
in rage.

But he seized the weapon from her and sent a meaty fist into her face. Pain exploded behind her eye

and cheek. She sobbed and covered the wound. She’d never been hit before. All the times she’d seized a
ship with the crew, she’d never been without a weapon.

The viscount snatched both of her wrists and trapped them to the floor. He leaned down into her

face and his eyes raked over her with pure hatred emanating from them. “You think you can outwit me,
little girl?”He laughed. “You’ve nowhere to run now.”

She struggled against his hold and gasped in pain and outrage. “You bastard!”
He laughed. “No, that was your father, my dear. I’m the true heir, and he always hated that about

me. No one knew that about him except me. How do you think it was so easy to depose him? I just
convinced everyone that I was the real heir. I really didn’t even need to set him up and have him arrested.
But it was fun to watch him run.”

Fury washed over her and she gritted her teeth. “He was your brother!”
He laughed. “I know. That’s what made it so fun.”
Angel leaned up and bit his nose. He howled and the bitter, coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.

Anger for her father clouded her reasoning, and she no longer cared that he could kill her. She only
wanted to wound him as he’d done to her father.

He reared back but she held firm. The viscount howled in pain. A fist to her ear toppled her to the

left and her vision went black. She cried and hated her weakness. She wanted to stand up again but she
couldn’t. All of her limbs went weak, and pain ricocheted through her body. She just couldn’t get back up
anymore.

And she hated herself for that. I want to make him pay for what he did to you, Papa. But I can’t.

I’m not that strong.

The viscount got off her and she curled into a ball. Tears puddled under her cheek and pain

wracked her heart. She’d failed. And failure had never tasted quite so bitter before.

She missed her father with all her heart. I’m so sorry, Papa.

The viscount kicked her in the stomach and she choked, feeling as if every body part would spill

from her mouth. Every muscle was sore and an ache settled inside her chest.

“You’re not going to take away my one opportunity to get my revenge. Do you hear me?” the

viscount said.

He reached down, grabbed up her head by the hair, and leaned down into her face. Angel

whimpered, her scalp screaming in protest. Both of her hands tried to clasp at his offending hand to
relieve some of the pressure. But he only pulled harder with a laugh.

“I don’t care that Logan isn’t here to witness it anymore. I just want the deed done.”
She sobbed.
“But I am here, Phillip.”

Twenty-Four

Fury enveloped Logan to see his daughter in his brother’s hands. Blood spilled from several

wounds on her face and she sobbed in fear. He staggered from a wound to his head, though Logan’s vision
had never been so clear before now. He would kill his own brother. This much was certain. The
atrocities Phillip had inflicted on him and Elizabeth might have been forgiven with the right provocation.
The injuries to his daughter would not.

He entered the room fully and Phillip backed up, dragging Angel with him. She gasped at the pain.

“Let her go, Phillip.”

Phillip limped. The viscount was injured. Excellent. That just made the task so much easier. They

circled each other.

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to let her go now? Especially, since you get the chance to watch

her die.” Phillip cackled. “I couldn’t have asked for better timing.”

“You won’t walk out of here alive.”It was a statement of fact, and they both knew it. Rage

clambered with control, and the battle between the two was quickly dissipating with his fury as the
winner.

“Is that so?”
Phillip eyed him. He didn’t blink and didn’t glance away. The viscount was afraid. Logan gave a

feral smile. As he should. “Afraid?” It wasn’t really a question. Logan flexed his shoulders and cracked
his neck. “When you injure the offspring, you waken the beast.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, brother.”
“You hated the fact that I was the oldest and a bastard. And I would still inherit everything. You

hated the fact that mother and father covered up the truth with lies by telling everyone I was born early.”

“It wasn’t fair!” Phillip yelled. “You always got everything you wanted. You were their favorite.”
“You let your jealousy blind you. Mother and Father gave you just as much attention as they did me.

It just wasn’t enough for your greedy soul.”

“Because I was the real legitimate heir! Not you!”
Logan shook his head. “All you had to do was ask, and I would have handed you the title and

money. I never wanted it, Phillip.”

Phillip yanked Angel up in his arms against his chest. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll snap her

neck.”

Logan froze.
“That’s just it, the perfect son. The martyr, the saint. The child who never did anything wrong and

me...I was never good enough. I was always in trouble and being scolded. But you...you were perfect!”
Phillip stepped back. “That would have been another reason for everyone to love you. Just another reason
for everyone to think I was a greedy bastard.”

“Was?” Logan snorted. “You still are.”
“I didn’t care about the money!” Phillip’s arms tightened around Angel and she squealed in pain. “I

just wanted to everyone to see that you weren’t so perfect.”

“Well, you got what you wished for. You forced me into a life of piracy, a life on the run. You made

me the villain with your lies and ruined my good name. Now let my daughter go. Let Elizabeth’s daughter
go.”

“There’s another person who loved you more,”Phillip whined. “No matter how much I gave her,

how much attention I lavished on her, she always loved you more. So you see this is revenge on her as
much as it is on you.”

Logan gritted his teeth and curled his fists into tight balls. “And to think she cared for you until you

tricked her and forced yourself on her. She’s the one who convinced me not to return that night and kill

you while you slept after your betrayal.”

Phillip grinned. “That’s too bad. I guess you lost your chance.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
Logan took another step forward and Phillip placed both hands on Angel’s cheeks. “One quick snap

of the neck will kill her Logan. Are you sure you want to do that?”

Phillip took another step back and glass shattered behind him, spraying in all directions. Blac burst

through the window with both feet and plowed into the viscount’s back, effectively throwing him off
balance and loosening his hold on Angel.

She fell forward and Logan caught her up in his arms, setting her behind him. Blac tumbled to the

floor, obviously weakened by loss of blood as his entire left side was soaked with it.

Logan pounced on Phillip, wrapping both arms around him and they toppled to the floor. “Get her

out of here, Blac!” Logan yelled.

Phillip jabbed an elbow into his ribs and popped his forehead with the back of his head. Logan

howled in pain.

They were both big men, as was their father before them. But Logan had spent the last twenty years

aboard a ship, whereas his brother had spent the last twenty years sitting on his arse eating sweetmeats
and tarts. Most of his weight had fallen to his belly. He was much slower than Logan.

But the man had spent his early years in the Navy. He had the skills; they were just a bit rusty. And

there was no way Logan would underestimate him again. Phillip was deceitful. He wouldn’t fight fair.

Logan had already been privy to his brother’s duplicity once before. He wouldn’t make that mistake

again.

They studied each other, both tense and ready to spring. Logan was careful to keep Phillip on the

other side of the room as Angel and Blac made their exit.

“All right, brother. It’s just you and me now. Let’s finish this.”

~*~

The clouds had thickened overhead as Angel and Blac stumbled down the corridor to the stairs. The

roofless building shook with after-tremors, and Angel placed a hand on the wall to help hold the two of
them up. Blac grew weaker and more dazed with every second.

She glanced at him, concern marring her brow. “Just a little longer,” she whispered to him, but he

didn’t appear to hear her. His eyes clouded and seemed to be looking in on themselves.

How much blood had he lost? Where was he injured? She needed to tend to him. And quickly.
Settling him against the wall, they slid down together. The soft thud of his head against the plaster

seemed to draw him out of his dazed state and he jerked his gaze to her. “Where are we? What are you
doing?”

“I need to tend to that wound.”
“No. I promised Logan I would get you out of here.” He attempted to rise but pain registered across

his face as he collapsed back down.

She shook her head. “See? We’ll never make it like this. I need to stop the bleeding. Now hush and

sit still.”

Urging him to lean forward so she could get a better view, Angel ran her hands along his side and

lifted his shirt gingerly. He winced and gasped. Fresh blood flowed from the wound.

A sliver of wood protruded from his side by about two inches. Plenty of length to grip it but

removing it could be costly. It would allow more blood to flow freely, and it could be risky.

She sat back on her haunches to consider her next move. Taking a deep breath, Angel set about her

task to remove the sliver of wood. Her hands shook slightly and she struggled to remain calm. With a firm
grip, she tugged at the fragment and then tugged again until it popped free of the flesh. Fresh blood gurgled
and ran down Blac’s side.

Blac’s quick intake of breath caused her to wince. Her heart beat a quick drumming in her chest.

Please let me do this right. Don’t let it be too late.

Angel scurried and ripped the sleeves from her shirt and then packed the wound. Tying off the ends

of her makeshift bandage, she sighed and sat back.

It would have to do until she could find a physician. She worried about her father, but she needed to

get Blac to safety first.

“Can you walk?”
He nodded, but pain creased his brow. Standing, she reached down to help him to his feet. They

wobbled and struggled to regain some balance for several seconds before they reached the stair landing.

She would have to get him down and since the stairs were missing, the feat might prove impossible.

They reached the edge and she leapt down first.

“Just keep it slow and edge forward, Blac.”
He swung both feet over but seemed to lose consciousness as he simply toppled forward onto the

floor with a thud. Angel rushed to him. “Are you all right? Blac! Answer me.”

He’d passed out cold and lay in the inch high water on his injured side. The water around him

turned a pale red as the blood seeped from the bandage.

Frustration clenched her teeth and determination moved her forward to try to lift him. It was

impossible though; he was simply too heavy. She pulled and tugged on his arms but he wouldn’t budge.
Sliding down to plop onto her rear, tears threatened to fall.

Angel crawled to his side and turned his face to her. “Blac please wake up, just for a few more

minutes. Please.” She gently slapped his cheeks, and when that didn’t work, she splashed some of the cold
water on his face.

He came awake with a jerk and a gasp.
Oh, thank God.
With his help, she got him back up on his feet and they crossed the warehouse to the opened door. A

glimmer of light sparkled by the corner of the building and she moved them toward it. Tangled within a
mound of seaweed lay the lieutenants cane sword. A detailed silver plated solid skull pommel handle
glisten under the sun’s meager rays.

Propping Blac up, Angel fetched the sword and weighed it in her hand. This would come in handy

in case she needed it. Movement from around the bend of the building caught her attention. She eased
around the corner. Her father and the Viscount swung from the harbor crane arm.

With the weapon in hand, Angel returned to lift Blac, and hoped that she made it in time to save her

father from Phillip’s madness.

~*~

Phillip tackled Logan to the ground, and they slid across the floor until Logan’s head cracked

against the wall. His vision blurred. He shook it off and toppled the bastard off him, gaining his feet.

But Phillip surprised him by whirling around and crawling through the opened window. Logan

reached the window in two strides and grabbed for Phillip, but he leapt.

Logan growled and peered out as both hands rested on the sill. He didn’t see Phillip. Had he

disappear—

The strike came from nowhere and pain exploded in his jaw. Phillip hung onto the swinging arm of

the harbor crane, and as it swung around for a second time, Logan grabbed hold as well.

Phillip kicked at him as they hung over the choppy waters beneath them. Logan grabbed the

offending ankle with both feet and yanked with enough force that it dislodged one of Phillip’s hands. He
dangled there for several seconds before his hand slipped, and he fell. Crashing through the rest of the
roof — what was left of it — Phillip glanced up at Logan.

Without thought, Logan climbed across the crane arm and hopped down to the roof. Parts of it were

missing from the earthquake, and he scooted over the side to leap the rest of the way down. But Phillip
had already exited out the door.

There was no way in hell he was going to let his brother get away this time.
He lunged, and the two crashed to the ground and almost slid off the edge of the broken wharves.

Logan scrambled to get a good hold on one of the planks, just as Phillip tried to push him off. He growled.
With a hard jab to Phillip’s jaw, he let go and Logan pulled himself back up.

The board swung and he ducked at the last minute. Phillip cursed. “Why won’t you just die?” The

return swing to his stomach sent Logan to the ground with a whoosh.

Phillip raised the board above him and just before he struck again, Logan swept his feet out from

under him. His brother toppled to the ground and Logan was on him. Logan wrapped his hands around his
brother’s neck and a red haze clouded all reason.

Anger. Hatred. Bitterness all surged forth from his heart to his hands as Logan squeezed the life out

of his brother. Phillip struggled and twisted, trying to dislodge his hands.

A memory of his brother as a child flashed through his mind and he gasped, lunging to his feet.
Logan stared down from his hands to his brother and anguish filled his heart. What had they

become? Monsters. And for what? A title? A fortune?

“I don’t want to fight, Phillip.”
“You always were the weaker one,” Phillip sneered.
Logan nodded. “I just want my life with my daughter back. You can have everything else. I don’t

want it. I don’t even want revenge.”

Phillip struggled to his feet, gasping for breath. “You’re not going to take this away from me now.

Not when I was so close!”

“Do what you want, Phillip. But it’s over. I’m taking my daughter home.” Without another word, he

turned and headed back toward the front of the building. Angel stood at the street’s edge, holding Blac up
with both hands.

Angel cried out and let go of Blac, who tumbled to the wet ground.
“No!”Phillip’s roar came from behind. Logan whirled around and the slightest swish of air stirred

by his face. The lieutenant’s sword soared by Logan and embedded in his brother’s chest. Phillip grasped
the wound in his chest and dropped the harpoon he’d been holding. It clanged against the wood planks and
rolled to a stop several feet away.

His brother had tried to kill him. And his daughter had saved his life. Phillip’s eyes faded into

death’s grip before he plunged to his knees. Sadness cocooned Logan as he watched his brother topple to
the ground.

He strode to his brother. Pain lanced his chest and weighed heavily on him. Logan fought tears of

regret. He hoped his brother had found some peace for once and he whispered his love to him as he
closed the tortured dark eyes for the last time.

Logan glanced behind him. Angel had rushed back to Blac’s side. She lifted his head in her hands

and sobbed on his shoulder. Blac’s face had turned an ashen white color and he gasped for air. His chest
rose and fell heavily as he struggled to grasp a complete breath and Logan sensed his friend neared the
end.

Angel let out a tortured wail and fell forward, her head resting on Blac’s chest. Ragged sobs

wracked her tiny form and Logan’s heart clenched in regret.

He prayed that he hadn’t saved their lives only to have his daughter’s heart split in two.

Twenty-five

With her father’s help, they transported Blac across the harbor to the small town of Kingston to

nurse him back to health. Port Royal’s devastation continued for weeks after the earthquake, as disease
ran rampant.

The cemetery had been washed up during the earthquake and people were still finding dead bodies

around the city, even weeks later. Sadly, Angel feared Port Royal would never see its days of glory again.

Two thousand people had died during the disaster, including Bruno, the lieutenant, as well as most

of Blac’s crew. Rigo still hadn’t been found and the Serpent rested now in its watery grave, along with
hundreds of vessels. The only visible remains of the undersea graveyard were a forest of masts gouging
the surface of the waves.

Port Royal lay in silence, mourning the loss of her soul that breathed life into the tiny port. The town

remained deserted.

The night threaded weak moonlight into the room at the inn. Angel crossed her arms over her chest

and peered out the window at the harbor beyond. Moonlight flickered across the water, illuminating the
few ships in the harbor. Since the earthquake, there seemed to be a curse on the area and people were
afraid to be on the same island as Port Royal. Forget the fact that Port Royal lay on the opposite side of
the Harbor and Kingston was tucked safely on solid ground, and not adrift on a tiny spit of land.

Turning from the window, she glanced to the man in the bed. His breath echoed in the silence of the

room and remained her only companion. She crossed the room and perched on the bed. Lifting his limp
hand, tears surfaced as she kissed Blac’s knuckles. Aware of the terrible hollowness in her chest, she
sniffled.

I miss you, Blac. Please, wake up.
Tomorrow would mark her ninth day nursing him. Nine days without his smile. He showed signs of

improvement, but he’d yet to wake. Fear kept hope at bay, but she couldn’t shake it away. What if he
never woke up? Pain lanced her heart and squeezed. Life without Blac wasn’t an option for her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she lowered herself to her knees beside the bed, pressing his

hand against her face. “Stay with me,” she whispered. “I want to grow old with you and lounge on the
veranda on your isle of serenity. Grow old with me, Blac.”

Her voice cracked and she swallowed.
The door opened to reveal her father. He completely filled the doorway with his large frame. He

stuck his head in and gave a soft smile. “Time for your dinner.”

“I’ll take it in here, if you please.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’ll do no such thing. You haven’t eaten a decent meal in days and

you’re wasting away. What do you expect Blac to hang onto, if you’re so thin he can barely see you? Now
go eat and put some meat on those bones.”

She didn’t move at first, and he entered fully with a determine look on his face. Angel shot to her

feet, still afraid of her father’s discipline. She eased around the bed and stood before him. Peering up into
his still handsome face, she placed a hand on his arm.

He opened for her and that was all she needed. He crushed her to him and hugged her tightly as only

a father could for a daughter in despair. He rocked her softly and kissed the top of her head. “I love you,
Angel. And so did your mother. But she would hate to see you like this. You must eat something. Where
did my beautiful vibrant little girl go?”

Angel squeezed her father’s waist and smiled into the crook of his arm as her head only reached the

top of his shoulder. All the years he’d walked her to her mother’s grave and told her stories of her vibrant
mother returned to her.

Logan released her and held her at arm’s length. “You’re such a strong woman now, much like your

mother. And you make a father proud, Angel.”

Angel choked and rushed back into his arms. After her tears abated, he set her away from him and

urged her out the door. “And don’t return until your little belly is stuffed full. And that’s an order.”

~*~

Blac’s eyes cracked open as light speared his eyeballs. He groaned at the pain. His head pounded

like a hundred thundering hooves and his stomach roiled as nausea assaulted him.

“It’s about time, old man.”
He recognized the voice. He squinted, trying to peer into the haze. Logan sat beside him in a chair,

his elbows resting on his knees.

He attempted to reply but couldn’t. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed.
“We didn’t think you’d make it there for a second, but I remember how stubborn you are. I knew

you’d come around. But Angel, she’s been scared.”

Blac tried to jerk up, but ended up crashing back to the pillow. His head spun and lifted his head as

if that would stop it. “Where is she?”he croaked out.

“She’s taking a break to get something to eat. She’s been worried sick and hasn’t left your side until

today.” Logan grunted. “And I had to force her to do that. You’re not the only stubborn one.”

Blac’s grin faltered to a frown. Every muscle in his body ached and burned.
A dull burst of agony assaulted him at the worry she must have endured over him. He searched for

her as if expecting her to burst into the room.

“She’ll return soon enough.” Logan must have noticed him searching for Angel. “I knew something

like this would happen. I had tried to prevent it for many years.”

Blac peered up into Logan’s eyes. He’d aged. The lines fanning his eyes bore deep grooves and his

hair had grown much whiter over the last three years.

The only sign he bore of his capture was the cut on his forehead which would likely heal as a scar.

A constant reminder of the horror of these last few years.

Years of memories lingered between them, like a giant wall separating them. Blac could still

remember his first day aboard the Aberdeen and the fifteen-year-old boy who’d stood taller than most of
the grown men. As the youngest member of the crew, Blac had been petrified, but Logan’s quirky quips
had immediately made him feel at ease.

Logan’s half-grin spoke of his own memories and Blac nodded uncomfortably. The over-grown

pirate got to his feet and patted Blac’s shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

“Some water would be nice.”
Logan nodded and crossed to the door to open it. He turned back to Blac. “I will be forever grateful

to you for saving Angel’s life, Blac. You’re debt is paid in full.”

Then he was gone. Blac realized that while he hadn’t actually said the words, Logan had forgiven

him. And given them his blessing.

~*~

Blac stood on the veranda and watched the sun set. Fully recovered now, he waited on Angel to

enter the room. He’d sent a message that had only said I need you.

The door banged open and stuck into the wall as she burst into the room. “What is it? Are you all

right? Are you feeling sick again?”

He chuckled as she raced to him and searched his body, peered into his eyes, looking for some sort

of ailment. He clasped her hands and drew her within the circle of his arms. “I’m fine. I was hoping you’d
watch this beautiful sunset with me.”

She paused, clamped her mouth closed and then a wide smile spread across her features. “Of

course, I would be delighted.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. They stood thus until the sun hung by its

last thread. The slightest sliver of orange darted across the darkened sky when he finally faced her. “I
have something to say...I mean I wish to speak to you.”

“What is it?” Her wide eyes proclaimed her fear.
He smiled and dropped to one knee, opening his palm. “I have this gem...you see. I found it years

ago on my island and have stored it away, never really thinking anything about it. But now...” He clasped
her palm in his other hand and brought it to his lips. “I would like to get it carved into a wedding ring,
Angel. For you.”

Tears brightened her eyes, though they’d yet to fall. The opened O of her mouth expressed her

shock, but she dropped to one knee beside him to accept the gem. Their foreheads bumped together as they
ogled the jewel. “What is it?” she whispered.

“It’s called Caribbean amber. It is a prehistoric resin, mined from the hills. It’s normally a pale

yellow or dark brown.”

“Then why is it sort of blue?”
Their cheeks brushed. “It’s a rare blue-tinted amber that is colored by volcanic gas.”
“Oh, how lovely!” She peered up into his face and warmth spread through him. Her tiny palm

settled over his heart. “I cannot wait to start my life with you as Mrs. Barclay.”

He laughed and scooped her up into his arms. Still on their knees in the middle of the veranda, they

kissed under the fading light of the sun. They sank to the floor and with their heads together finished
watching the last displays of light disappear from the sky, knowing they would have a lifetime of this
together.

Epilogue

The sunset finished the ceremony with the tiniest crack of light rimming the horizon in honor of the

day he’d asked her to marry him. Angel turned in Blac’s arms. A slight breeze fluttered the blonde ringlets
away from her face, and Blac couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

Married.
He was married.
Was he really married?
Angel whipped around as the wind caught her fluttering, white skirts and tossed the bouquet behind

her to an entire throng of pirates and seamen who, instead of catching the bundle of lilies, all took a step
away.

Angel glanced behind her at the bundle of lilies nestled in the sand and burst into laughter. Her face

glowed with happiness.

He chuckled. Was he married? Hell yes, he was married. Happily so.
Blac laughed and hugged her close.
She stepped away from him and withdrew a cutlass from beneath her skirts. Where the hell had that

come from and how had she put it there?

“You never answered my question, Barclay,” she whispered, striking a stance.
“Oh? Which one?”
“Do you wish to take up where young Eric left off, which is on the ground with my sword at your

throat?”

Then she did the damndest thing. She waggled her brows at him and whispered, “En guard?”
Blac burst into laughter, grabbed the sword, and flung it before hefting Angel over his shoulder.

Life would never be dull with the Hell’s Angel. It might be the wrong kind of paradise, but it was heaven
nonetheless.

~The End~

About the Author

Suzie still believes in happily-ever-after and after growing up reading classic adventure literature

like Treasure Isle, Gone with the wind and watching classic westerns like Gunsmoke, Lonesome Dove,
and Bonanza Suzie knew what she wanted to do with her life. She brings the action of thrillers to
historical romance with steamy love scenes and a pace that will leave you breathless!

From Castles to cowboys there's something thrilling on every page. Take a deep breath and join

Suzie on a journey into her happily-ever-after.

During her rocky teenage years writing became an emotional outlet for her and it wasn’t until she

had married and had children that writing as a profession became an option.

After a very long divorce she again finds herself climbing that rocky path of life and has learned to

live by a single quote: “Obstacles are placed in our path to determine whether we really wanted
something, or just thought we did.”By Dr. Harold Smith.

Suzie looks forward to each new obstacle.

She lives happily-ever-after with her new beau, three boys and one little Shitzhu named Peppy

Le’Pew in NC. One day she plans to retire and sail along the east coast an adventurer to the end.

The Devil's Defiance ~ Book Two of the Devil Ryder Series

Coming in the fall of 2011

New York City Lawyer Garret Ryder takes the law into his own hands when a vicious killer gets

away with murdering his family. Nothing will stop him from delivering the justice denied him by the law
he vowed to uphold. But when the killer kidnaps a judge’s daughter, his childhood sweetheart, he must
decide if any price is too high to exact revenge.

San Antonio socialite Sophia Maria Osbourne doesn’t trust easily. With a dirty politician and a

blackmailing judge for a father, she learned not to rely on anyone but herself. But when her father’s shady
dealings lead to her kidnapping, she must place her faith in the man who broke her heart, if she hopes to
survive.

Erotic short story

Courtesan's of the world ~ Sister's in Sin Series

Sinful Assignation coming in 2012

A courtesan trades her body for her life. An assassin trades his heart for his career.