Wrong Kind of Paradise Page 8

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 d
irection, 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 mo
untainous 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.