The Winds of Fate (36 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth St. Michel

BOOK: The Winds of Fate
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“I am a man who does not need to justify myself. But I will make allowances just this once. I assure you, Lily, I have Claire’s best interests paramount to everything else. My intentions to her are honorable.”

Lily nodded. “I know.”

Devon walked to the doors and let out a shrill whistle. “Thank you, Lily. This clarifies many questions.” Abu Ajir cawed from a distance.

“Where is Claire?” Lily asked.

“I have the eyes and ears of my island. I always know where Claire is.” This time he surprised the unflappable Lily.

“I would expect nothing less.”

Devon laughed. “Faith, you could box the ears of the best of the King’s courtiers.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Lily smiled.

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment. I despair for Robert. He will have his hands full with you.”

Devon did not have far to look. Abu Ajir led the way. He had trained the crow to watch over Claire. It had been an easy feat since she fed and cooed over the bird, treating him like a child to the point he felt the bird had more of an attachment to Claire than himself.

His lagoon. There in radiant golden light of the mid-day sun stood a breathtaking siren from the sea with all the power that beauty held and for the life of him, he could not move. Once he thought her beautiful. At this moment, she was more than beautiful, she was the dazzling sun itself. There was color to her face, a flush that lent her skin a radiant glow. Her chestnut hair was knotted atop her head with a dozen or so dampened tendrils.

Devon moved closer. Her brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She pulled the pins from her hair, giving Devon an unobstructed view of her long, pale throat, her creamy shoulders, and firm jutting breasts, beneath a thin linen shift.

She unleashed every primitive instinct in him, instincts honed from generations of Irish warriors who took what they wanted. Devon could stand no more. He dove from the top of the cliff into the pool below, surfacing opposite her. She crossed her arms in front of her and started to move away. He laid a hand on her shoulder, an implied command to remain.

They stood in silence for a while, half a lifetime in the space between them.

“You are lovely.
My wife
.”

“My name is Claire,” she whispered, hinting the barest of protests. He knew her name well. Hadn’t he spoken it over miles and miles of sea a thousand times? Hadn’t it been the mantra that kept him going these years past?

With a long drawn out breath Claire said, “I never betrayed you, Devon.”

“I know. Lily told me. I’ve made a mistake.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “Yet you believed Lily and not me?”

“Did you realize how much you assumed my actions that day, Claire? How could you even think I could leave your bed and entertain the likes of Anne Jensen? She’d been dogging me since the day I set foot on Jamaica. She just happened to corner me at the exact time you happened by.”

She nodded her head, mulling over the possibility.

“It’s time to end this Claire. I know of the regrettable loss of your parents. I know of a young girl left to grapple alone in the worst part of the world. I know of a young girl who bravely sacrificed herself to care for those she loved. I understand your feelings of abandonment. I would never abandon you.”

Claire hesitated. She didn’t know what to believe. Her heart hammered, and her head hurt. She wanted to believe him−to desperately believe him. She willed the tears gathering in her eyes to go away.

“Don’t−” he whispered.

“I won’t.” She willed herself to stay upright, but still the tears came.

He stayed there standing feet away from her in the water. Drops glistening down his shoulders, down his breastbone. He could haul her up into his arms if he wanted−he could do anything, he was that powerful. He knew it. She knew it. But she saw something inside him fighting the awful force straining inside him.

Again, he beckoned her with his hand.

Claire stared at him, trying to clear her brain, sensing that he wasn’t meaning just now, but something more, something deeper, and something more profound. She didn’t know, couldn’t be certain of anything other than the searing pain in her heart and her raw fear of the towering power in this man, a potency he tried hard to keep leashed.

He took a step closer. “You have to come half-way, Claire. It’s all in your power. Take my hand. Do it. Come to me.”

She gazed up at him, the roar of the waterfall drumming in her ears. She shivered from the chill of the mountain water. She knew this would be her last chance. Devon was a proud man. He would not take any more of her rejections. Claire raised her hand, water dripping from her trembling fingers, she placed her hand in his. The strength in those fingers that told everything there was to know of this man. He was warm. God he was warm. And strong. Claire felt his fingers curl tight around hers.

“There are times in our lives when we have to take risks. We never know when our time is up. I can promise you this, Claire. I love you.
I love you with my whole heart and soul. You are courageous beyond anything, and I respect you for that. But I can’t be whole, Claire without you. This past year has torn me apart, not knowing if I’d ever lay eyes on you again. When a piece of me said to give up hope, my soul whispered, Give it one more time.”

And then, she was in his arms. He’d drawn her up to him, holding her tight in his embrace, shielding her with his body against the world, against all the torments, fears and loneliness.

Cocooned within Devon’s arms, Claire closed her eyes and drank it all in−the man, the pirate, the millions of ways he moved her. He lifted her ever so gently and carried her to shore reverently laying her on soft green mosses. Claire buried her face against his throat, so conscious of where his warm flesh touched hers.

Devon caressed Claire’s arm and turned her face to him, making her look into his eyes to see the import of his words. “When Le Trompeur had you in his grasp, I went crazy. Don’t you see how the fates have brought us together, that life itself is little more than a series of coincidences, coincidences at work bringing about events that the merest chance might have averted, the very tool used by fate to shape our destiny. We were meant to be together Claire. We can no more stop it than the sun rises. I love you wholly and unconditionally. And I will never ever stop loving you, of this I promise.”

Tears coursed down her cheeks. “I do not want to love you. I cannot love you. You are a pirate, a wanted man. I want a name for my children.” She shook her head, and began to sob. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you, Devon. I cannot lose you,” she cried brokenly.

Devon reached out and gently wiped away the tears as they fell. “Claire, love,” he whispered tenderly. “The longest journey is taken a step at a time. My love can wait, but it will neither yield nor change.”

Claire lost her breath in that instance and drew him down to her, his kiss slow, thoughtful, his tongue tracing the soft fullness of her lips, leaving her mouth burning with fire. He left her, and she groaned. He shirked out of his pants and lay beside her, the hard press of his
manhood, heavy, forceful and throbbing against her hip making her pulses leap. He reached for the strap of her shift and slowly drew it down her shoulder. Claire shivered. Gently his hand outlined the circle of her breast, holding it firm, his head bent, his tongue caressed her sensitive swollen nipple. He tore his mouth from her breast. She gasped. His hands touching pleasure points as he leisurely slid her shift from her. Naked now before him, his eyes expressed his desires. An unbelievable ache filled her down there, her nipples rising in response. Claire licked her lips. He might be the Black Devil, but he was her husband. And he had every right to make love to her, just as she had every right to receive him.

Their mouths meshed in a fiery web of passion, Claire clung to him, giving free rein to her own hunger. It was the purity of a spring awakening, and the ache of absolution all merged into one. Claire closed her eyes, writhing and then his body came down to spread her thighs, and she cared about nothing except the heated iron that entered her. She arched toward him unconsciously unleashing a rousing melting sweetness. Her hands involuntarily reached to his lower back, the heat of his flesh hot and tingling beneath her fingertips. He pulled back and stared at her, raw tension in his eyes. She protested when he stopped, feeling cool air brush her wanting body, she looked at him questioningly.

“Your maidenhood,” he rasped. “We did not complete last time. It will only hurt for a second.” He plunged into her, filling her completely this time. Claire cried out, scrambling away. He stopped, holding her pinned to the ground, his forehead touching hers, his breath fanning her cheek.

She heard the tender agony in his restraint. “It will hurt no more.” He moved on her then slowly, rhythmically, and she edged around the feel of his manhood. He must have sensed the awakening flames in her, surrendering completely, humbly draining all doubts and fears. A tremor inside her thighs and groin vibrated with liquid fire.

She clawed into his backsides, grasping for an elusive flame, and this time with her heart beating for the man she loved.

He plunged. She melted around him. He thrust hard and fast. She screamed in her climax, reached before him, continuing after him, exploding in a downpour of fiery sensations so intense she nearly fainted.

Lying as entwined lovers they drifted off to sleep. She was floating in languid contentment when she felt him place something between her breasts. She opened her eyes to see a scarlet hibiscus and reached up with her palm to caress his handsome face.

She felt alive for the first time in her life. Felt, in fact, as though she could control her own fate. Now that she was loved she experienced an innate freedom from the chains of abandonment that for years restrained her. She was edged with emotions so raw, so beautiful, she’d wanted to weep with joy. Despite what the future held, Claire held no regrets.

Her only distress was for his safety. She shoved it from her mind.

For this moment in time, on this idyllic Paradise, Claire decided nothing would come between them. She would make the most of any time they shared. She would enjoy the man and the stolen days to follow. She would discover what she could about him, learning every detail.

So thinking, Claire let her fingers trail down his face, loving the hard chiseled angles, amazed by its symmetry. Devon roused himself, and sat up. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, dipped it into the water then spread her legs apart.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning my seed and your blood from your thighs.”

“It’s not decent.”

“I’ll determine, my darling what is decent and not decent,” he smiled wickedly. He spread her thighs and bent over her.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

He laughed, sweeping her into the circle of his arms. She didn’t struggle and was startled to see the tenderness in his eyes when they touched hers. There was still amusement within them, but it was a gentle humor now. His eyes had never seemed so green, so like the sea. His hair was tousled and a rakish black lock fell over his forehead. She
tried to imagine the youth he must have been. Yet now he was a pirate, leader of pirates, cast into a world of battles and struggle for power. He had grown powerful, so powerful everyone feared him. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She should be on a ship running in the opposite direction. She was hopelessly entangled, with no way out. And the worst of it was she no longer wanted a way out. In his arms, something wondrous happened.

Safe. Sound. Secure
.

He captured her lips and they made love a million different ways. .

Claire rose from slumber and slipped from his arms. Too late. He grabbed her, and growled when she eluded him. Claire dove into the lagoon. “I dare you to come in,” she laughed, splashing water on him. He dove in and surfaced behind her. She did not imagine his controlled blaze of desire. She had no doubts at all. Impishly she turned to swim out of his reach but he caught her ankle in his hand, grabbing her knee then her thigh. He brushed the sensitive skin at the inner curve with his lips.

Claire gasped, “That’s not fair.”

“Pirates don’t have to play fair.”

He dragged her to shore and kissed her long and thoroughly. “I should teach you a lesson my vixen, but the sun’s gone long in the day.” He glanced at the sky. “While we’ve still light, I’ve something to show you.”

They dressed, and he helped her with her buttons. He took her hand. She turned her palm up and gently curled her fingers about his. He led her to the sister waterfall. When she looked confused, he grinned and urged her on. They picked over a rocky ledge then edged behind a curtain of cascading water. Sun filtered through the veil of water. He turned her to face a small cave, and there before her eyes laid an incredible sight. Claire stared at piles of gold, silver, and jewels. She had been swimming here for days and never dreamed it existed.

“There is the wealth of twenty kings here,” she whispered.

“This is all yours.”

Claire stood speechless. He picked up a strand of pearls and placed them in her hand then grasped a fistful of gold pieces letting them fall through his fingers.

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