FicWad

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The wind continued to howl and rage throughout the night. Only the hours candle gave away morning’s arrival. With the storm and barred shutters, darkness reigned. I woke slowly, hearing Gato rousing in anticipation of his outing. James lifted his arm from around me and rolled from the bed. I closed my eyes, smiling inwardly as he dressed and spoke very quietly to the cat.

“Gato, come along.”

I heard the door open and they departed. For a moment I lay enjoying his chivalry in tending to my pet’s need for the out of doors in inclement weather. Then I rose, laid fresh garments for both of us, and built a small fire in the hearth to heat water from our barrel stores. As warm as the rooms had become before the winds arrived, they had cooled even with shutters drawn. I tended my personal needs, tossing the tonic in the chamber pot.

In that instant, I knew. I had conceived. My hand went to my bare belly. Heart fluttering in a brand new rhythm, I mentally accepted our child.

James and Gato burst into the room amid my lover’s rumbling mirth. “Verily that cat changes his mind when the water comes from above.”

I rushed with a drying cloth to rub my cat. He rumbled, swatted a bit in fun and preened at my attentions. As Gato settled again in his hide bed, I straightened. I turned my head to see James staring at me.

“Undress,” I bid. “I have water heating.”

In a moment of clarity, I brought supplies from behind the screen, placed them within reach, and dragged the empty tub before the fire. Like a chambermaid, I poured heated and cold water into his bath. His body suddenly pressed my back. “Get in with me, sweet.”

Melting, I replied, “Aye.”

He reclined. I did the same between his heavily muscled thighs. As the tub crowded, I half-turned. James turned me around fully. He pushed me back a little and lifted my calves over the edge. Our buttocks met. We stared into each other’s eyes. I bathed us each in our favorite scents. Reclining again. I answered a compulsion.

Wishing to know the extent of his allowance, I said, “What if I believed I am pregnant?”

His brows lowered a trice. “Have you something to say?”

I became so emotional I could barely speak. “I know I carry our child.”

“So swiftly?” His expression waxed intense, concerned. “Do not overstep your reason if it is not your desire.”

“I carry the fruit of our union.”

His entire being tensed, as when I had suggested that scandalous lovemaking. “Lili, I want this. Yet, I fear your unhappiness above all.”

My entire body quaked. “I know I have conceived. Make love to me, James.”

He stood, dried himself, and lifted me from the tub. He set me upon my feet. I reveled in the drying off at his hands. Gently, he lifted me again and placed me in the bed. It seemed the moisture flowed from me in buckets as James parted my thighs.

In the most simple and sweet of positions, James eased into me and I arched in shuddering surrender. Every inch of my body flexed and roared.

I yearned for him so hotly reason no longer applied.

He moved inside me, conjuring sexual magic, wreaking sensual mayhem.

I ripped his back with my nails. Climax undid me.

His semen erupted in the sheath of my body and I screamed.

I loved him. I wanted him. Completely.

FORTY-SIX

The day aged and the storm worsened. James answered a knock at the door several hours after midday. Christopher’s voice reached me above the howling and driving rain.

“A ship’s run ashore near the harbor.”

I hopped from bed as the door closed. We dressed, buckled on swords wordlessly. Pistols would offer no service in this weather, as wet powder and flint refused to spark. I braided my hair, coiled it at my nape. James clubbed his back. I bid Gato remain and he hissed his displeasure as the portal closed behind us.

Down in the hall, the captains, their mates and Walks Softly already waited.

“What do we know?” I asked.

Etienne replied, “Our watchmen saw lanterns and heard a big crash. Aside from that, we know naught.”

“We’ll require hurricane lamps, rope and lots and lots of flint wrapped in oil cloth,” I said.

James added, “Let us call up a solid group of experienced crew members to help conduct the rescue and assign the rest to assist in carrying litters and keeping order here.”

Christopher nodded. “Walks Softly should remain. We rely upon his healing. He should not be risked.”

Everyone agreed, including Walks Softly, although I saw the displeasure in his eyes. He wanted to go with us.

We gathered what we needed while our indian friend oversaw his part of the effort. As we departed for the harbor, rain whipped into my face. The dimness mirrored twilight even at this early hour. The lanterns would serve as beacons on the shore did we have to brave the sea. I saw a wink of light in the general direction of the harbor. Adjusting the coil of rope over my shoulder, I squinted into the gray. We moved at a brisk clip, keeping tight ranks. As we made our way along the surf-pounded beach, I saw the light again.

The battered bulk of a ship suddenly loomed before us. Looking as though positioned for careening, her hull faced us and her topside leaned away. Men hung limp in rope harnesses from the rail. I accepted a grappling hook from Mr. Street, skirted the vessel amid pulling surf. Sand sucked from under my feet and my breeches wet though. As I tossed the iron up and to the opposite rail, water ran over the tops of my boots. I put one foot on the deck, hauled my weight up and began the ‘walk’ up to the men. At the top, I tied myself off and began tying the ropes thrown to me to the unconscious men, snubbing the rope over the rail, then cutting them loose to lower to waiting hands.

A huge wave crashed inland, striking the hull and erupting upward. The force nearly caused me to lose my hold on one man. I tightened my grip on the wet rope and forced myself to hold on.

The men wore uniforms of the British military, I realized with some dread. Yet, we could not abandon victims, no matter how tricky the aftermath might prove. From my vantage I glimpsed something tossing in the big angry waves. More men!

“There are men out there,” I shouted. “I am coming down!”

The knots in the soaked hemp held too fast for me to untie. I pulled my knife and cut through. Halfway down, I caught the remnants of a mast, then let myself drop. James caught me in his arms. He growled something and I doubted it praise for the job.

“There are men in the water,” I repeated.

James removed his boots and sword. He tied a rope around his waist, knotted a second length to the first, and handed the free end to Mr. Street and my brother. “Boats are more likely to crack their skulls in a lurch. I’ll swim. Keep out the slack. When I yank, haul me in.”

My heart lurched. “Don’t you dare take any foolish risks!”

He flashed a rakish white smile. “Such as swimming in a sea roiled by hurricane?”

I had no chance to respond. He walked away a bit, the other two men staying close. James fought his way out past the breaking waves. I could not imagine the strength it required to progress in the raging water. Setting a lantern out of reach of the surf, I left it for James as a point of reference.

Litter-bearers and men’s shoulders carried the shipwrecked to the castillio. After what seemed an eternity, I saw Christopher and Mr. Street began dragging in rope. Soon I saw James, a man under each arm. I added my effort in bringing him ashore. James released his burdens to Mr. Levit and Etienne.

“More await,” James called and charged back into the ocean.

Again and again, he repeated the feat. I stayed there to help, as bound in labor as my fear for James. I knew his immense skills as a swimmer. Yet, when the sea turned goddess eager for sacrifice, few remained safe.

Finally, James staggered from the rough surf and fell to his knees. Breathing heavily, he slowly pushed to stand.

Etienne quickly lent his arm to keep James upright. I added mine and we three walked through the stinging rain to the fort. Along with my brother and Mr. Street and Levit, we represented the final evacuees from the scene of battle. We had fought a formidable force. Now came time to see how many lives we had won.



The captain of the ship woke not an hour later. He had broken an arm, but otherwise continued in good health. James had the solemn duty of informing him less that forty of his men survived the storm. I stood with them, clothes still damp, eyes burning from the salt water, skin sore from wind and rain.

The captain – introduced moments ago as Reginald Eden – leaned back against the stack of pillows propping him upright and closed his eyes. “We sailed with seventy-six.”

I respected him more for the pain in his voice. “The sea often catches the most seasoned of her sons off guard.”

In a hushed voice, Captain Eden replied. “I suspected the storm and gambled I could beat it.”

For no reason I could name, James seemed to tense. “Beat it where?”

He opened his eyes and met James’ keen gaze. “To you.”

A shard of fury stabbed me. “You hunted Captain Garrett?”

Eden nodded. “Rumors reached my commanding officers about Mallory’s ill-advised mission to find a Christopher Rothington and The Hunter. When neither Mallory, nor the other ships in his command returned to Port Royal, I was dispatched to learn their fate.” He grimaced as he shifted his bound limb. “To shorten a long tale, someone recognized one of the missing men-of-war as the Dangerous Beauty.”

James spoke softly. “We have an interesting situation, sir.”

Eden’s tone waxed more assured. “No, sir, we do not. You and yours risked your lives to save ours. Even though you must have known what flag we flew by our uniforms.” He paused. “If you will permit me the honor, I shall carry back word that the one known as The Hunter and Captain Garret are not the same man. And further, the pirate known as The Hunter has perished in the storm.”

I realized what this meant. James need never look over his shoulder. He could turn legitimate merchant and live without fear of reprisal.

James kept silent for several moments, then extended his hand. They clasped. My lover said, “I accept. We will see you and your crew to Jamaica. If our paths cross again, Captain Eden, hail me for a friend.”



FORTY-SEVEN

Sometime after midnight, the winds began to die. Soon, an eerie stillness gripped the battered fort.

We’d bathed earlier, upon returning from the ordeal at the harbor. James had rubbed my rose oil into every bit of my skin, massaging away forming stiffness before it could begin. We had eaten the food carried up from the hall and fallen asleep together quite early.

In the unnatural quiet, James rose from bed and dressed in clean clothes. He armed himself. I donned garments and weapons as well.

“Has the storm passed?” I asked.

“I believe the center of it above us.” He struck flint and lit a lantern. Picking it up, he said, “Shall we go have a look?”

We stepped out into the hall, Gato with us, and I saw many doing the same. Several others had brought lanterns with them as well. As a group we went below and out into the courtyard. Not a puff of wind stirred. Despite all our efforts, debris littered the yard. At least we might have limited the damage done by heavier objects. We wandered about curiously, marveling at the power of the winds until they began to build again. My cat seemed understandably reluctant to return to the confines of our quarters. Yet, no help could be found for it.

James produced a fine ebony and ivory chess set from his sea chest and taught me to play. Strategy I excelled at. Within an hour I had grasped the game enough to threaten James’ queen and declare ‘check’.

Patience, however, did not make a home among my strong points. As reward for my hasty attack, moments later my lover said, “Check mate.”

I cursed ferociously, standing and staring down at the board for a long while, attempting to see my way clear. He waited, silent and indulgent of my time taking and temper. Then, it occurred to me he’d had the reserves of patience to orchestrate a two-year web weaving to ensnare an enemy. I laid down my white queen in acceptance of his victory.

He leaned back in the chair, the weight of his gaze heavy upon me. I recognized the change of mood. “Time to pay forfeit,” he murmured.

I rounded the table. “What manner of forfeiture?”

As I came close, he reached out to slide his hand around my hip, to the curve of my bottom and pull me nearer. “To the victor go the spoils.”

Knowing what he wanted made my belly flutter and my blood warm. “I am spoils?”

“You are my truest and greatest wealth.”

I caught his hand and tugged, bringing him to his feet. I led him to the bed, removed his weapons and placed them as I had seen him do so many times, then did the same with my own. I stripped us both, my hands shaking a little with the intensity of his regard. He obliged my directions and stretched out, putting himself at my whim.

We had indulged our hotter passions earlier, therefore freeing me to a slower savoring of him. I learned his body all over again, head to foot, front and back, tasting his skin. My arousal built, melting me at my core until my thighs became damp. When I dallied over his belly, James’ hands settled upon my head. I knew his unspoken request. Smiling to myself, I blew a slow breath over his erection. It bucked and seemed to further swell. James’ breath emerged in a hiss. I brushed my lips over the tip, ran my tongue lightly down his length, teasing him with the barest sensation.

He growled deep in his chest. “Lili.”

I looked up at him. His eyes fairly glowed and the skin over his cheekbones pulled taut. “Aye?”

“You know what I want.”

“Your cock in my mouth?”

“God in Heaven,” he groaned, “yes.”

I gave it to him, drawing upon him with sexual avarice, letting his hands guide my movements. Then, he halted me and I found myself on my hands and knees with him behind me. His fingers pushed into my body. Wetness flowed around them and he made a very animal sound of satisfaction. He withdrew them, buried himself in one nerve-sizzling thrust.

He drew out pleasure longer than I believed I could last. Several times I felt my body edging toward surrender and so must have he. He would move me into some new position, lingering over me with kisses and caresses calculated to offer pleasure, yet no coaxing toward release. Finally, when I had begun to shake and threaten him, he ground and pounded himself into me and I shattered.



I feared I would become restless during the time as the storm passed. But, the time became a precious haven. With the world far away and no demands upon us, we did nothing save play chess, make love, and talk. I learned all about his youth, about his time learning at Teach’s knee and heard about our earliest relationship from his perspective. It gratified me to have deviled him so, and to have shocked him with my boldness. He admitted to a swift infatuation and severe case of lust.

When the hurricane passed, our idyll ended. Men needed tending, ships repaired, inventories taken and plans required forming. We threw ourselves into our duties. After a week of preparations, the time to depart arrived. Diego intended to sail for the Bahamas, Christopher to Port Royal to collect from his bank and return Captain Eden’s remaining crew, Etienne, Walks Softly, James and myself for his island. If the storm had passed over it as well, more work waited.

It felt strange, rather sad, to see our little fleet dissolved. Christopher would soon return to us, but I knew Diego would not.

A very peaceful and precious sliver of my life had occurred at the castillio. And as I watched the harbor shrink into the distance, a powerful nostalgia gripped me. James’ voice made me look to where he stood at the rail a bit away, directing Mr. Street. I turned from my backward view, fixing my eyes upon James and toward what came next.

~ I am coming closer to the end of this novel and would love to hear from anyone reading.