FicWad

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The door to James’ bedroom closed courtesy his booted foot and he paused long enough to slide the bolt home. As ever, a servant had lit several candles as darkness fell. He was taking off my clothes before my back had scarcely hit the mattress. I had begun to shake, as much from growing arousal as from fear of the unknown. Gone was the man who had strewn flowers at my feet as I slept. Here was the pirate.

I couldn’t seem to keep up. Weapons and clothing came off him, I lay naked within minutes, one moment his mouth would be upon my shoulder or belly, the next swallowing my growing cries of pleasure. I tried to caress as much of him as possible. His fingers touched me between my thighs and the shock of carnal delight brought my hips up from the bed.

He pushed two fingers into me and the air left my lungs. He fluttered them strongly and I thought the sensation might drive me mad. He added a third and I realized he was not thoughtless in his lust. He prepared my body for what would follow.

“James,” a sudden idea worried, “I’ve only just begun … ooooh.“ He withdrew his fingers, a fourth joined them and I lost my chain of thought.

“Walks Softly told me,” he murmured, assuring me he knew about ontraception. “Your body is opening for me. Feel it?”

I sank my fingers into his loose hair. “Yes.”

“Most virgin pain is from lack of wanting.” His mouth teased the under curve of my breast, whispered over the hard nipple, then his tongue traced my collarbone. “Do you want me, Lili?”

I shivered, a slow, long wave that washed over me. “Very much.”

“Then you have nothing to fear.” He withdrew his fingers, shifted over me. His hips spread me, left me open. “A moment’s courage. Only this once the pain, and I would take it for you if I could.”

I lost myself in his kiss, eyes closed, savoring the taste of him. I felt a wide bluntness touch the wetness of me, then in a heartbeat he knifed slickly upward. I cried out. It was a strange pain, not at all brutal, but raw and almost as if my body accepted it in exchange for him. He felt enormous inside me. Hot and unbelievably hard, he kept pressed deep.

“Look at me.”

I opened my eyes. His hair fell forward, isolating us face-to-face. I reached up to push it back a bit. I wanted to memorize the details of this room. Everything. He looked fearsome, savage. He seemed to study me. I felt myself clench around him.

James shuddered. I moaned and lifted my hips. He braced his weight above me on one bent elbow. His other hand went to my hip, fingers just curving under my bottom. “Move against me.”

I let him guide me. As he slid slowly backward, I moved my hips away as well. Then, he urged me toward him, sinking back deep into my quick. Oh, I grasped the idea. I wrapped my legs about his hips as I had at the falls.

“I say again, you were born to play with fire.”

He abandoned his lazy pace, pushing me to keep up. I lost any residual reserve, fought with him for dominance and bit his chest when he refused to yield control. I recognized the beginning of a mammoth climax, frantically pushed with my lower body. He circled his hips against mine and I peaked in a powerful flash. He called my name, withdrew and I felt that wet warmth upon my belly.

He left me for a few moments. I tried to absorb the step I had taken. My body and my life had changed. It scared me. However, I refused to let that stop me.

James returned with a basin of water and a cloth. Gently, he cleaned away the evidence of spent passion.

I reached for him, happy and glad of his ministration. “I want you back inside me."


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


I woke in the night, aware of occupying the bed alone. A single hours candle lit the room. By its light I saw James sitting in a chair nearby, his gaze fixed upon some distant point.

“Do you wish to speak of it?”

He turned his attention to me. “You should sleep.”

I patted the bed beside me. “Come lie with me. I like having you close.”

I almost expected him to decline, for he seemed intent upon brooding. Yet, he rose and came to stretch out on his back beside me. For a long while he said nothing. I traced idle patterns upon his smooth taut skin, dropped kisses upon old scars.

Finally he said, “For over two years my life has been about ending his.” He caught my hand, brought it from his chest to his lips. He held it there. I felt his breath upon my flesh and shivered. “I’ve spun a web to ensnare him, given my every attention to detail and plot, that his life blood wet the sand of my beach. Yet he died upon the field of honor.”

“Tell me about it. Those two years.”

“They were wasted. That is all to be known about them now.” I heard that darkness again.

I wanted to share in it. “Tell me how you came to know Teach.”

“He hated Huntington, but could not risk openly targeting him. When the major killed my parents and brother, Teach came to me with the truth and an offer. He said he would show me everything I needed to know about piracy and revenge, in exchange for his sharing in Huntington’s death. He asked that before I dealt the coup de grace, I relay his regards for Huntington meeting the Devil.” He laid my hand over his heart and held it there. I could feel the strong, steady cadence. “I sold all the stock, closed our house outside Savannah and all accounts, auctioned off our trade vessels and office. Then bought a ship.”

“So you knew the sea already? Did you seek your enemy there?”

“I spent a year making my reputation.” He stared at the canopy above us, eyes catching the flickering candlelight behind and glowing like the sunlit shallows around his island. “My father’s friend who they were en route to visit, deeded me this island and returned to Italy. I began recruiting. Offering a home here and share in the spoils.”

He fell silent. I waited, then prompted, “Were the houses here already?”

“A great many. I had more built.”

“You said that cottage belonged to you.” Memories of that day made my belly flutter.

“It was here before. I often stayed there when I visited.”

My heart ached for him. “When did you decide to kidnap me?” I propped myself up on bent elbow to better see his expression. “And how did you even know about me? You must have surely had agents all over London.”

“Huntington showed a miniature of you in Port Royal a year ago, bragging he’d soon break you to saddle.” A hint of amusement curved his mouth. “You’d have poisoned him inside a week.”

I smiled. “Indeed.” No notice of my engagement had been made, in hopes of keeping my journey a secret. However, it seemed the major’s inclination to bragging had sealed his fate. And mine.

“I posted a man in every yard, bribed a clerk in every office. As soon as your arrangements were made, word was sent.”

“Walks Softly? Did he follow you right away?”

“Yes. His belly burned with the same fire for vengeance.”

I saw his dark brows lower. It made me think of a cloud passing over the sun. “He did not agree with your using me.”

James turned his head, met my gaze. “It was the only time we ever fought.”

“He loves me.” I silently waited for him to deny.

“He loved you almost at once.” He squeezed my hand. “You were the one person who spoke pure truth.”

I leaned up and over him, kissed his wide mouth. “You have ever been honest with me.”

“Walks Softly is the only person on this island who does not want anything from you. Trust him alone.”

“What might Etienne want from me?“

“My torment. Heed my words, Lili.”

I wondered if he believed he did me a favor advising against himself. In a change of subject, I asked, “Have you other family?”

“Relatives in England, Dover and Salisbury. Most I have never laid eyes upon.”

“What shall you do?”

He rolled over, pushing me onto my back. “See that you make good on every offer of sexual indulgence, each twitch of your very fine bottom.” He shifted, fluidly bringing his hips between my thighs

“That is a lot.” I arched up, rubbing my breasts over his ribs.

He gazed downward, watching. “You learn quickly.”

“And my memory is keen. I recall you gave me my freedom. Perhaps I shall sail with my brother.”

“You will not.” The statement emerged very quietly, filled with assurance.

It made me wish to devil him. “I believe I will, to spite you.”

“I’ll have your promise you shall stay.” He leaned down to capture my lips. I tried to turn my head, he followed. He used that damn trick with his thumb again, and his silky tongue had its way with my mouth despite my attempt at evasion. I reached up to give his hair a tug. He caught my hands, held them fast in one of his above my head.

I’m not certain what it said for my inner workings. But the wetness of passion began immediately. He reached up, yanked a tie from the canopy. In a trice, I was scooted, my hands tied to the leg under the headboard’s right.

“You villain!”

“You have tortured me for weeks, sweet. Cost me many sleepless nights with your goading my lust and testing my resolve. It approaches the plot calling the kettle black.”

I held my breath as he leaned down and slid his open mouth along my collarbone. With tremendous seriousness, I considered kicking and twisting. Physical contest with him would at the most produce humiliation for its woeful inadequacy.

“I love the way your skin tastes.”

I shut my eyes against the visual stimulation, wishing fervently I might shut out his hushed voice in the same manner. His hand moved over me, slowly, savoring its decent over my belly. He held his hips away from mine, yet kept his body as a barrier against my clenching my thighs. He cupped his hand over me, cradling my mons, then pressed me with his wide palm. I shivered and he surely felt the dampness so traitorously answering.

“Your body knows me. It will do as I bid, not you.” To punctuate the statement, he rotated his hand and I moaned. “I do not believe it will agree with you to leave me just yet.”

I had kept quiet as long as I could. Thrashing in rebellion and opening my eyes, I hissed, “Get your bloody hand off me!”

He did, and a heartbeat later the hard length of him pressed deep. We both shuddered. I realized the care he took with me, cautious of my only recently lost virginity. I went still, unwilling to aid him with my movements.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He leaned down to touch his mouth to mine. I caught his lower lip between my teeth. Our gazes locked. I released him, but held his stare as my body clenched around him. His gaze dipped to my lips. “I welcome your teeth upon me.”

The forbidden, almost feral sensuality in his tone sizzled my nerves. I looked away. Having none of it, he caught my jaw and turned my face back to him. He moved inside me, light and shallow, his mouth teasing mine, hovering just above. Prideful stubbornness began melting like butter in the sun. My hips lifted, seeking more of him. I tried to capture his lips. He kept himself from me. It became maddening.

With unbelievable swiftness, I was shaking and feverish with desire. “James, enough.”

His tongue flicked my upper lip. “Your promise to stay.”

I had not intended to go, only plague him with the possibility. Yet, allowing him to extract my vow in this manner set a frightening precedent. “I’ll not give it.”

“You will.” He touched the swollen, wet flesh between my thighs and I flinched from the jolt of pleasure. In moments, my legs trembled and I could hardly draw breath. He brought me to the brink, then denied me. Brought me to the edge again. “Your promise.”

It exploded from me. “Yes, you ruthless blackguard! You have my promise!”

He untied me. I slapped him, then held his head to me as I finally had enough of his mouth. My cries were muffled as he pounded himself deeper and deeper inside my quaking body. I fairly shrieked as I climaxed.



Morning light and a catalog of mild aches woke me. I sat upright, glancing about at the wrecked bedclothes. I wrapped in a robe from my room, rang for Eza. After I had bathed, dressed and had my hair brushed and braided, I went downstairs. Christopher, always an early riser, had already broken his fast and waited to bid me farewell.

He caught my hands in his, seemed to study me. “You seem no worse for wear.”

I smiled. “Indeed.”

“Are you quite certain it is wise to stay?” He looked so concerned and solicitous.

“Very.”

“I have a man in Port Royal who keeps finances for me. Ask for Reginald Worthy. I shall leave a marker with him. He will grant credit to me in the form of funds for you. Whenever you need more, tell Mr. Worthy.”

I kissed his cheek, moved by the generosity and thoughtfulness. “I will ride down with you.”

After the Prideful Folly sailed, I went with Etienne and Walks Softly to his home. James had to settle a dispute among two men over a woman.

When I sat upon the floor with a cup of cold tea and Etienne, I confessed all.

My confessor chuckled. “The captain must be counting his fair fortunes to have found a woman of such passion.”

“Take care, Lili,” Walks Softly cautioned. He brought us each a plate. This morning we had eggs scrambled with herbs and bits of sausage.

Etienne made a very French sound of disapproval. “Mon sauvage, she is young, enjoying her first lover.”

Walks Softly made ‘indian eyes’ at both of us. Then asked, “You’ve been taking your doses?”

“Faithfully.” I sipped tea. “James said you spoke to him.”

“I did.” he seated himself beside Etienne.

“Well? What about?”

He fixed me with those intense jet eyes. “I felt he needed reminding of his responsibilities as a gentleman.”

I looked to Etienne. He smiled beautifully and translated. “Timely withdraw, cher.”

“Oh.”

After my lessons, Walks Softly announced his intent to escort me back to the villa. When we had traveled far enough for privacy, I inquired, “What burden is it you bear?”

“The weight of distrusting my brother.”

That surprised me. “Whatever don’t you trust?”

“The death of his loved ones hardened him. Now this poison I hoped he would purge with avenging them, sits inside him, waiting to fester.”

“He seemed to be dealing with it admirably. In truth, he talked with me about it.”

My friend halted, replied in a low, almost tormented voice. “Enjoy the affair, Lili. But guard your heart. Do not trust him as you do me.”

I felt a trifle defensive on James’ behalf, hearing the person closest to him speak thusly. “His sentiments mirror yours.”

He appeared somewhat relieved. “Very well. I will say no more on the matter.”



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I felt wilted from the heat and drain of cutlass lessons by the time we reached the villa. Walks Softly opened the door, then bid me goodbye. Eza greeted me, concern in her dark eyes. I said, “Might I please have a cool bath and a glass of something cold?”

She went to the kitchen to tell them we would need water and refreshment, and still almost beat me upstairs. Solicitous and kind, she had me stripped and into a tub of blissfully cool water in hardly any time at all. A wine goblet of mixed fruit juices in my hand, I reclined in the copper tub, wondering when my body would adjust to the tropical heat. Eza sat behind me in a chair, plying a damp cloth to my temples.

“You are good to me, Eza,” I murmured, “and I have taken unfair advantage of your gentleness.”

In a timid tone, she replied, “I admire your spirit, miss.”

“Lili. Please call me ‘Lili’.” Revived I found myself studying my surroundings. The wood floor, walls hung with red silk, dark wood chest-of-drawers and small armoire echoed the master bedroom. A lovely oil painting depicting a scene from a European countryside hung upon one wall, a large, gilt-framed mirror the other. I’d become very much at home here, cradled by graciousness while comporting myself with lawlessness.

“Are you feeling better Miss Lili?”

I smiled. “Yes, I am. Would you see the kitchen staff knows I’d like our evening meal served on the terrace outside the dining room?”

“Of course.” After a moment she asked, “Is it true you’ve been learning to fight?”

“I just had a very rough lesson this morning. The exertion from which no doubt landed me here.”

The girl’s voice lowered. “Aren’t you afraid?”

I gave that a moment’s thought. “No, but then, if I fought someone who meant me harm, I am certain I would be.” An idea came to me with insistent clarity. James had told me he stayed in that cottage even before his tragedy. What miscellany of his former life might reside there? I yearned to know what went on inside him. An avenue for doing so may have just presented itself. “Let’s get me dressed for a ride.”

I stood, set aside my glass.

Eza protested. “The heat.”

“I have to get used to it.” On an inspired mission now, I vowed to do whatever I must. “Help me, please.”

Shortly after, dressed in breeches and a white shirt, I quickly tacked the gelding and rode away from the villa. I could tell Eza had assumed I would have an escort, and I did need one. So I rode to Walks Softly’s. I found Etienne sitting on the porch, his bare feet in the sand and a cup of iced tea in one lean brown hand.

“I know this face,” he said, “it bodes ill for my lover’s peace of mind.”

“Ride with me.”

He placed his cup on the porch, accepting the iron I pulled my booted foot from, and swung up behind me. “Our indian sleeps. Just tell me, cher, am I courting a duel?”

“I but seek knowledge.” I sent the gelding along at an easy canter. “Which brings me to a nagging question about you.”

He shifted a bit at my back. “I am at your service.”

For a moment I wondered if I dared ask. “Did you always prefer men?”

“I wouldn’t say I prefer them now. I prefer Walks Softly.”

Emboldened, I queried, “Then you have had female lovers?”

“Many.”

I laughed. “Such modesty.”

“That word sits ill upon your lips, Lili.”

I recalled a patch of wind-bent trees we passed, and sent the gelding faster up the beach. In a few moments, the cottage came into view. “We’re here.”

Etienne saw to the gelding while hurried inside. By the entrance, I left my boots. I remembered the way it smelled from before, of the sea and a hint of lemon oil. At once, I felt I chose correctly. James had slept at his office. But the traffic through it would make it less private all the same. I doubted any save an occasional maid entered here. If I did not find what I sought, then I would find a way to see inside his sea chest. I heard Etienne close the door.

“Have we ridden here to learn about architecture or decorating?” he quipped dryly.

“Neither.” I hesitated at the base of the stairs, then charged up them. A single room, filled with light from a large window staring out over the ocean, occupied the second floor. Populated by a wide bed, chest of drawers and a dressing table, it reminded me of James’ room at the office. A streak of insight into his character. That luxurious room in the villa fit his pirate king image. But simple comforts suited him best.

Etienne’s steps ended behind me. “First questions about my sexual endeavors. Next a secluded boudoir. I begin to feel myself compromised.”

“If you wished to hide something precious here, where would you put it?”

“Lili,” his voice betrayed the realization of the errand I had enlisted him for, “you have put me before the cold stare of the captain’s pistol bores for certain this time.”

I walked to the chest-of-drawers. “Aid me in my search, and we shall away with none the wiser.” I opened the top drawer. A single change of clothes lay folded within. The faint scent of ambergris reached me. I shut the drawer and continued. A change of bed linens, drying or washing cloths, a whetstone, tortoise shell comb and black ribbon for queing back his hair greeted my questing eyes. None of them what I desired.

In silent protest, my companion did not assist. I turned my attention to the dressing table. The chair, solid wood and sturdy, befit a man of James’ size. Opening the drawer, my breath caught. Stacks of letters tied with string, a woman’s cameo broach, a lock of reddish-blond hair bound at each end with copper wire, a use-worn pipe, and a small keepsake box, all lovingly arranged, occupied the drawer. My heart beat at the back of my ribs as I touched the letters. I ached to read them. If they had not been tied, I would have. But as it stood, I could not bear to disturb them.

“We should leave, Lili. Point of fact, we should not have invaded the captain‘s privacy at all.”

I craved touching and exploring these pieces of his past, to discover him through them. “Help yourself to the gelding. I intend to stay.”

“I cannot leave you unguarded,” he returned soberly, “and I have played unwitting accomplice past the limit of honor.”

“Your honor remains intact,” I argued, “for you have not trespassed at all.”

“Time to go,” he replied, tone flat. I heard the sea captain in it.

To my surprise, he crossed the room, closed the drawer and caught my hand. He pulled me to my feet and toward the stairs. I attempted to pry his fingers from around my wrist. His grip clamped more firmly.

My temper boiled. “Unhand me, you French git!”

He chuckled. “I protect you even from yourself, mon tressor. We are going.”

Down the stairs, I twisted and tugged. “Because you haven‘t the stomach for it, doesn‘t give you the right to stop me!”

Etienne made an abrupt halt halfway and I bumped into him. It felt like hitting a wall and I slapped at his back in retaliation. I retreated up a step as he released me. Over his shoulder I saw James standing at the foot of the stairs. The expression on his face bordered upon feral. A sharp thrill of fear lanced me.

Etienne spoke first. “Captain, I give my word I have done nothing more than commit folly in accompanying Lili before I knew her purpose.”

“I overheard as much. I have no doubt of your role in this,” James replied in a voice so black with leashed violence I shivered. He removed his pistols, set them upon a small round table. “Would you excuse us?” With his hair clubbed back, the slant of his cheekbones became more pronounced. As did the fury that sharpened them. “Lock the door on your way out.”

I stood there, caught and intimidated as Etienne departed. Pinned by the intensity of James’ stare, I suffered severe ebb in courage. I knew my way to the doors blocked. He stood in my path to both and it added to the vulnerability.

He came forward, putting one booted foot upon the lowest step. “I returned early because I thought you might want distraction. I tracked you. And even when I saw the horse bore a double load, I did not suspect you had decided to see to your own recreation.”

Slow realization dawned. “You think I brought Etienne here to make love?”

In a terrible, quiet voice he asked, “Is that what it would have been? Making love?”

I swallowed with some difficulty. “I did not bring him here to seduce.”

“What am I to think, Lili? I know your appetites.” He came up another step, then another. The thunderous expression on his face became even more menacing. “So long as you share my bed, I demand exclusive rights.”

Fortifying anger put steel back in my spine. “You bastard!”

“Let’s not travel that road. The names I’m justified in calling just now are ugly.” He closed the final gap between us.

I tried to calm myself enough to think rationally. Yet his accusations forged my wits and words into weapons. “I suppose it was inevitable I wish to sample new flavors. Why did it surprise you? You taught me to want.”

“Do not,” he warned, “make the mistake of provoking me further. You’d do well to summon up womanly softness and soothe me.”

Too offended to curb my recklessness, I snapped, “I didn’t come here to ‘soothe’, I came to get fucked.”

I don’t know which of us my vulgarity shocked more. However, the stun left his eyes in a wink and something icy-hot and frightening replaced it. “Granted.”

I turned to flee. He propelled me upward. My feet scarcely touched the second floor when he bore me to it. The shirt he ripped down the front, then drew the knife from its sheath at his waist and slit the laces of my half-corset, baring my breasts. I twisted and bucked. He cut my breeches to ribbons with an economy of motion, then the pantilettes in turn. The knife clattered away.

I fought him, in earnest save for the dark, wicked bloom of lust in my pelvis. When his fingers sank into my body, they met with welcoming wetness. He growled, rubbed his thumb over that button of flesh that sent lightning through my body and I cried out.

“Is this what you brought him here for?” His fingers withdrew, I felt him open his breeches and the hot hardness of his manhood knifed swiftly into me. My breath left me in a rush. It surprised me anew how that first thrust seemed to spread me. My eyes closed as bewitching pleasure pulsed outward from where our bodies joined.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Look at me.” I did. The savagery in his gaze had not diminished. “Look me in the eye and know it’s me fucking you. My cock making you moan.”

My rebellion dwindled and I surrendered to passion. So thoroughly did he ravish me I peaked in moments. He gave no quarter. I pushed at him, and I knew as it happened, he ‘let’ me from under him. I tried to turn and get to my feet. He held my hips, and keeping me upon my knees, pushed me forward to brace upon my hands. My back bowed and I half-screamed as he shoved into the still quivering sheath of my body.

For several moments the shock of rekindling desire made me hang my head and think of nothing beyond him pounding his rage and jealousy into me. My braid slithered over my shoulder and my legs began to shake. After I nearly pitched forward, he withdrew. I heard him stand and then he plucked me from the floor and put me upon the bed.

Dazed, I watched him remove what garment remnants hung upon me. He undressed himself, the tension in his big body displayed in every flex of muscle. Distantly I recognized the message in his actions. He took no precautions against my bolting, for he knew he’d brought me to submission. Through the throbbing haze of recent climax and reawakened arousal, I decided I didn’t care to be so easily vanquished. While upon my knees, I’d glimpsed the knife just under the bed’s edge. We’d just see about submission.

James put his knee upon the bed, flattened his palms on either side of my shoulders, and bent to cover my lips with his in a kiss of blatant ownership. I had to rotate my arm to bend my elbow and grasp the knife. I watched his face as I pressed the blade to his throat. Fleeting surprise, then determination marked his expression.

Twisting like his namesake, he rolled and brought me atop him, on my knees straddling his narrow hips, the wide ridge of him pressed between us. In the process, the blade had drawn blood.

“If you mean to do it, strike,” he said, hands coming to rest upon my waist.

Something in me wanted to, longed to prevail over him. Gazing down, awed anew at his beauty and wildness, I felt the urge slipping from me. That maverick shorter lock of tawny hair fell over his forehead. He shifted his lower body, moved me a bit and at once I found myself impaled upon him. The knife slid from my grasp to bounce to the bed beside him. I put my hands upon his shoulders, raised myself only to have him push me back down.

I powerful shudder passed through me.

“Ride me,” he urged.

I let him guide my hips. Bewitching carnal delight ensnared my senses. He seemed so controlled, almost unaffected. Feminine instinct made me meet his gaze.

“I did not bring Etienne here for any reason other than protection.” I lost my ability to speak for a moment, groaning as he circled my pelvis against his. Fighting to concentrate, I confessed, “I came to go through your personal things … learn about you.”

His expression changed swiftly. Something I could not identify passed over his face, then he pulled me forward to press to his chest. He kept himself deep within me. “Why did you not just tell me this?”

“Because it angered me you believed otherwise.”

“God in Heaven, Lili, you are the soul of stubbornness.”

The pace of our lovemaking changed, becoming lazy and indulgent. I explored his chest and shoulders with my mouth, wringing long moans and throaty rumbles of pleasure from him. Experimentally, I reached between us to touch myself. The sound that came from him might have been a dying man’s cry. Though coaxing that bit of me did add a new dimension to my experience, it appeared to undo him.

Sweat made his dark skin gleam. His gaze moved over me, dipping often to our merging hips. I could feel him begin to shake. He thrust restlessly up into me. My climax started with a sizzle and soon I was frantically riding him as he had wished. James fairly roared with pleasure, rolling up from the bed and holding me to him with a tenderness that rivaled his earlier anger in ferocity. I shook and peaked in a glorious flash. And, in a still functioning corner of my mind, registered the forceful eruptions of liquid heat inside me.

He kept his face buried in my throat. I regained my faculties more quickly than James, and panic speared me. “You spilled inside me.”

“Don’t fret, sweet. Walks Softly told me his preparation is trustworthy after a day or two. But he prefers to allow a week.”

I relaxed. It had been wonderful having him in me as he climaxed. I draped myself heavily, each muscle in me growing lax. Another thought emerged and I smiled. “There is the problem of clothes for me.”

“That I gave no consideration.”

After some time, he disentangled our bodies, fetched a cloth and wiped away the remains of his pleasure. James managed to lace me halfway using the ribbon I’d seen earlier. The change of clothes from the chest-of drawers swallowed, but covered me. I took down my hopelessly frazzled braid, used the comb to try restoring order. After the third time I became impatient and yanked out a clump, he took the comb from my hand and plied it himself. My eyes closed in delight at the long sweeping strokes. Too quickly he dropped the implement upon the bed and braided my tresses into a fat plait.

It occurred to me everyone around seemed capable of handling my hair except me. Yet another item upon my list to learn. James dressed, with the exception of donning his shirt. I stared at the dressing table and attempted to resist the urge to speak about what I had discovered. He bent, retrieved the knife and returned it to its place at his waist.

Patience it seemed, was not one of my virtues. “I found the things in the dressing table drawer,” I blurted.

He took down his lion’s mane, gave it a cursory few passes with the comb and clubbed it back. “They are hardly hidden.”

Curiosity seethed. “I understand you are very private. That’s what drove me here today.” I searched for the words to convey my motivations. “Still, I would like to go through that drawer. As a way of knowing your family. And you.”

“I have to check on Venganza in the corral.”

It required a moment to process his meaning. I had never heard the big gray stallion’s name. “May I read the letters?”

He let his head fall back upon his shoulders. “Can you ever leave anything alone, Lili?”

I decided as a point of strategy not to respond.

After several long moments, he went to unlatch and push open the big window. Surf sound and smell filled the room. “It is hot up here. You’ll want fresh air.”

He turned, strode to the stairs. I closed my eyes. “Is that an ’aye’, captain?”

“If you must.”

I leapt from the bed as his footfalls diminished into the distance.