Corsair Cove Page 12

  It must have been this way when Moses parted the Red Sea, Esa mused. For when Jacque spoke, the women fell over themselves to make a path as though God Himself had stepped out of Heaven to make the request.

  ~ * ~

  Jacque couldn’t have been more pleased with himself. The animal lust reflected in Esa’s eyes signaled his carnal torment would soon meet its welcomed end.

  They way she looked at him when he’d stepped out of the small room, he’d almost expected her to lay herself amongst the assortment of clothing and beg him to take her there on the spot. It was almost orgasmic, the feeling he got when she looked at him that way.

  He snickered triumphantly. It was only a matter of time before the bonny lass yielded to her insatiable hunger. And oh, how he would revel in her sweet surrender! A night under her honeyed hex would surely pacify his burdens like a bottle of the finest Jamaican rum never could.

  He’d thought she would hold out until they were at sea. But for once, he didn’t mind being wrong. Indeed, it looked as though this would be the prized night.

  A liaison he was growing increasingly eager to partake in. Almost as much as recovering the king’s forgotten fortune.

  Eight

  It was dinnertime when they finally finished shopping and running a few remaining errands. A tireless Jacque continued to drill a weary Esa with questions throughout the day and she did her best to answer each one to his satisfaction.

  Jacque, the hopeless knave, was a natural born seducer and flirted with practically every woman they passed, much to her chagrin.

  “Jacque LaFleur? Are you sure you’re not Don Juan?” she sneered. She’d never known a man to be so disrespectful in the presence of another woman. Of course there were always deceitful men that carried on behind a woman’s back, but to be so bold and frisky right in front of her face? Ugh!

  She hated to admit it, but a pang of jealousy stabbed her heart to hear him speak to other women in such a seductive manner. Where had such unwarranted jealousy had its birth? She should be glad for the ammunition to pull out in case he—correction when the silver-tongued corsair made his next move on her.

  Hoping food would prove a useful bribe, she promised to introduce him to pizza if he behaved himself and stopped embarrassing her.

  After seeing their shopping bags sent to the hotel, she led a mischievous, well-dressed pirate to the local Pizza Palace. He sat across from her in a small booth awaiting an extra-large deluxe and sipping on a soft drink. Actually, Jacque was on his third round of cola having found the sparkling beverage much to his satisfaction.

  Watching him eat pizza was even more amusing than when he’d inhaled the Whoppers. She could easily pass the time away just watching those highly animated features as he tasted everything the 21st century had to offer.

  She let her mind wander back to the incident in the hotel bathroom, fanning herself with a small cluster of napkins as a fever threatened to break. The man definitely knew how to arouse a woman. She harbored no doubt he’d be a great lover. It was only too easy to envision Jacque making love to her. She could almost feel the silky softness of his hair caressing her sensitive skin while his lips traveled the length of her body. Inhaling the earthy scent of him as they lay in a lovers embrace. Sage, cedar and sea. The feel of his tightly muscled body stretched atop hers, plunging his rock-hard arousal into her over and over.

  Esa snapped out of her erotic fantasy when she realized Jacque was no longer eating his pizza. Instead, he was looking as though he wanted to take a bite out of her!

  A guilt-ridden flush stained her cheeks and she opened her mouth to speak, but no coherent words came forth. God help her, how on earth did she expect to convince him she wanted to maintain a platonic relationship when she couldn’t even convince herself?

  ~ * ~

  Jacque licked the tomato sauce from his fingers and glanced up to find Esa gazing at him through ravenous eyes. The welcome vision sent fire racing through veins overflowing with testosterone and gave him an immediate erection. “Aye lass, does the pizza do nothing to quench ye appetite? Perhaps ye’d—”

  “Jacque? I can’t believe it, I thought it was you! You look better than a pitcher of ice water on a hot summer day in the Arizona dessert!” The busty blonde he’d spent the afternoon with yesterday proclaimed as she approached the booth.

  He nearly fell out of his seat. Damn the insatiable wench! Couldn’t the cursed woman see he was with another? And what a time for her to appear. He groaned as the woman smoothed her hand along his jaw line, which had the beginnings of five a clock shadow.

  “The beard was nice, but I like you much better with a clean shave. Very hot,” she purred, curling her fingers through his raven tresses. “Greta and I were hoping you’d come back for a nightcap last night. What happened to you?” she asked as if Esa weren’t sitting there.

  With as much gentleness as he could muster, he pried the woman’s predatory paws from his mane. Heart hammering, he swallowed before daring a sideways glance in Esa’s direction.

  Her infuriated glare had the effect of a musket through his chest. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Suddenly the room seemed to be closing in on him.

  “E-Esa,” he began, pausing to clear his throat. “Er, this is…” He looked at the wench for assistance. For the life of him, he couldn’t recall her name. He’d always been horrible with women’s names. Truth was he never cared to learn names. Love ‘em and leave ‘em had always been his motto. Faces he remembered, skills—or lack thereof—hard to forget. But names? Irrelevant.

  “Dawn,” the pesky woman offered, visibly disappointed that he could forget.

  “We, ah, met yesterday…in the harbor,” he stammered through a mortified grin. Godsteeth! What the devil was wrong with him? He was babbling as if he lacked a working tongue and a pair of testicles!

  He was only grateful his treacherous crew couldn’t see him now. He’d never coward away from anything, much less a quarrelsome wench.

  Normally, this situation wouldn’t have troubled him. But with Esa, he found it troubled him a great deal more than he cared to admit.

  Esa presented a smile as wooden as his former cook’s leg and slid from the booth. “Look Jacque, it’s none of my business with whom you choose to spend your time with. I’ll just leave the two of you alone to reacquaint yourselves. Enjoy the rest of your pizza. So long LaFleur,” she spat, thrusting her chin upward. Her woeful gaze stung his conscious as she threw a curt nod toward the blonde and added, “Dawn.” Then stormed from the restaurant.

  “Avast mademoiselle,” he paused and came to his feet. Looking down on the impulsive wench he added, “My ship has sailed well beyond the harbor in seek of a plush port to lay anchor in for a spell. If you’ll excuse me, I believe our business was finished yesterday.” He pushed past the woman and stormed toward the exit.

  When he reached the sidewalk, Esa was nowhere in sight. He cursed the inconsiderate wench once again for breaking such an intimate moment before trudging his way back in the direction they’d come.

  What did Esa expect? The locked-legged wench hampered his every attempt at seducing her! She forbade him to touch her for chrissake. She had no cause to be angry with him. He was a man after all…and a man had needs that demand be contented one way, or another.

  ~ * ~

  Sid propped his feet atop the old oak desk in his den. Vengeance gnawed at him. He phoned the Key West police to see what, if anything, they were able to drum up on the demonic mammoth that called himself Jacque LaFleur.

  And, surprisingly, he was able to acquire some very interesting information from one Detective Burk. The police had recorded the conversation between Jacque and Esa in hopes of being able to solve the mystery behind the man, whom they were certain must be an exceptionally clever thief. He’d just been fortunate enough not to have been caught. Yet. But that wasn’t all. They suspected Esa was his accomplice.

  “How can a man of his stature leave no trail of prints? What about his bir
th certificate? Surely to God there must be some proof of his existence? I mean, last time I checked, men weren’t falling from the sky!” Sid ranted to the detective.

  “Of course they don’t. We’re still checking, and we’ve got someone watching his every step. We’ll figure out who he is and exactly what he has to do with your fiancée, don’t you worry about that.”

  “Make sure you don’t lose him. There’s a great deal of money in it for you if—”

  “I appreciate your concern Mr. Cromwell, but let’s get something straight right now. I don’t take bribes. I’m here to do my job and see justice served. That’s all. I’ll let you know of any new developments as they arise.”

  “An honest cop?” Sid snickered. “Have you thought about the fact that he may be using an alias?”

  “We didn’t get our badges from a cereal box, sir. We’re driving down all avenues, I assure you.”

  “My apologies. I meant no offense. But, I think I can offer you a good place to start.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. There’s a man by the name of Rafeull. Without boring you to death with details, he was hand selected by Charles Keats to take over his shipping business. Resides in Paris, at the moment.”

  “Why would we want to—?”

  “Look, just check him out and see where it leads you, that’s all I’m saying. Let me know what you find out. I’ll do the same.” Sid hung up the phone.

  He’d almost convinced himself Rafeull and LaFleur were one and the same man. He snorted, unsure if he should be grateful, or disappointed. But he’d abandoned that thought after hearing a message Jeff left him about needing to pick up a few personal items he’d left behind on the charter as Esa had requested the yacht be delivered to her straight away. Esa was taking a charter out. Where the hell was she going?

  Wherever it was, he’d bet everything he owned that her bare-backed bodyguard would be traveling with her. He ground his molars, wishing he’d spent more time in the gym than doing research.

  And then there was the matter of a very rare ruby and proposed Letters of Marque in the mocking buccaneer’s possession that had piqued his interest.

  When he added the facts together, they painted quite an amusing picture. Who’d have ever suspected the bookish Esa Keats a world class thief? The mousy woman didn’t posses a brazen bone in her fluffy body, not an ounce of fight was to be found amongst her impish existence.

  Although his number one goal had been to learn as much as he could about the mysterious Rafeull before he arrived to lay claim to the business that should have been his, his focus was shifting. Besides, he had successfully inspired the police to do his groundwork. Serve and protect. And there was no better service than a free one as far as he was concerned.

  The gluttonous wheels in his head began turning soon after he learned of the valuable gemstone. At first he’d laughed until his belly hurt. A buried treasure?

  His surprise evolved into concern when he learned his naïve fiancée had actually bought such a half-witted tale. He’d thought her smarter than that.

  A spark of realization lit a profitable fuse in his head.

  She was smarter than that. Her ruse could only mean she was part of the grand design to steal away with a fortune in rare artifacts.

  How had she done it? And why? Her father left her a very generous nest egg. What was her motive? How long had she been plotting behind his back?

  He should have visited her more at the museum. Had she smuggled the valuables in through the drab paintings she was so fond of?

  A venomous plan slithered into his head.

  If the scheming lovers had one precious stone in their possession, perhaps the fools really did have more of the exclusive gems hidden abroad.

  Guadeloupe, Burk had said. He’d heard of it. A small Island in the heart of the Caribbean. As good a place as any to bury a stolen pirate treasure.

  Sid rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He may still have some use for the little slut after all. And if his intuitions were correct, he had some life altering plans to make. The smile in his eyes held the allure of a thousand devils as he picked up the phone.

  Perhaps he wouldn’t need the whore’s business to make his fortune.

  ~ * ~

  Jacque berated himself en route to the hotel. Part of him resented the feeling the anguish in Esa’s eyes left him with. She’d been hurt, which made the other half of him hopeful, however undesirable.

  She cared. Cared enough to feel the pain brought about by him. Hadn’t he upset her enough by teasing and attempting to make her jealous while flirting with other women?

  She must think me a heartless buffoon!

  A dull ache filled his gullet, for deep down he knew she wouldn’t be far off the mark if that were indeed her opinion of him. But why should he care? He’d never been able to stay focused or true to one woman, nor had he any desire to do so now. He’d only meant to tup his rescue angel then use her to retrieve his treasure.

  At least that was the strategy in the beginning. Now it seemed his feelings were growing well beyond his reach, dictating his harrowing actions. Damn the sulking wench! There were more pressing matters at hand than worrying about destitute women.

  Aside from his feelings, truth beckoned for his soul’s ear. He needed her to reclaim the booty and return home. A variety of scenarios played out in his boggled mind as to how she would react when he arrived at the hotel. He preferred the one where she was so pleased he’d chosen to be with her instead of the bonny blonde that she ruined his new garments by ripping them off and making passionate love to him on the plush flooring of the lodge.

  Lost in thought, he paused when a pleasant aroma tickled his nose. A small flower boutique sat to his right. Inhaling the sweet scent conjured wonderful visions of an even sweeter reunion. Women were fond of flowers, sweets and baubles, he was certain that would never change, no matter what the century.

  Pulling out the wallet Esa had insisted he purchase to keep his money secure, he disappeared behind the glass door of the floral paradise.

  ~ * ~

  Back in the safety of her hotel room, Esa threw herself on the bed and let the tears flow freely. Her heart was completely shattered. How could she possibly shed any more tears given the past few weeks she’d cried enough to rival the steady flow of Niagara Falls? But still, she cried.

  Her entire life had gone to hell in a hand basket. And the downward spiral only continued to get worse! When would it stop? On top of losing her father, her dream and her boyfriend, she had stupidly allowed herself to fall for a deceitful, lying playboy that she’d met just a little over twenty-four hours ago.

  What was she thinking?

  This flighty woman was not Esa Keats. She didn’t behave in such a frivolous fashion. She only hoped she was able to salvage a shred of dignity when she’d left the 18th century gigolo at the restaurant.

  Did she really want to proceed with this trip? She’d heard people did the most outrageous things under stress. What was she doing with a clock sailing pirate? She laughed through her tears. Good grief, how stupid that sounded!

  She’d hurt Sid, the man she loved, the man she wanted to spend eternity with. Jacque was but an outlet, an escape from the chaos that had become her life of late. She laughed again at the irony. The knee quivering man oozed trouble from every pore. How could she hope to find any form of solace in the likes of him?

  Surely Sid would forgive her. He was just that way. She eyed her cell phone. Picking it up, her heart skipped a beat. Sid had left two messages.

  She hesitated. Had he called in hopes of reconciliation or to curse her to the ends of the earth for her presumed unfaithfulness? Pressing the phone to her ear, she listened to the first message and sighed in relief. “Esa, it’s me sweetheart. Listen, I’m sorry about this morning. I’m sure the whole thing was just a misunderstanding. Please call me. I know you’re going through a rough time right now and you’re not yourself. We can work through this. At least, I hope we can. I lov
e you darling.”

  The second message was similar, though more urgent in nature. “Esa honey, please call me. We’ve been through so much together. Please don’t throw it all away for some barbaric lunatic. Call me, please? I love you.”

  Through her sobs, she told herself she didn’t deserve a man like Sid. If she had any brains at all she’d be on the next flight to Fort Myers and begin the process of mending her broken life.

  If it hadn’t been for Jacque LaFleur, she would have done just that. How could she leave with the majority of the rogue’s fortune in her account? She may fall short of a lot of things, but she wasn’t a thief.

  Perhaps she could withdraw the money and leave it in the trust of the bank clerk. Yes, she’d leave Jacque a note at the front desk letting him know where to find his cash.

  Blowing her nose, she checked her watch. Damn. 7:35 pm. The bank wouldn’t be open again until morning. Well, that would just have to do. First thing tomorrow, she’d march straight down to the bank and rid herself of any ties to the obnoxious pirate. It shouldn’t be to hard convincing the blonde bimbo to keep it in her account, though she doubted he’d have it very long were it in her clutches.

  Reflecting on her deal with Jacque, she knew she shouldn’t, but didn’t see any real harm in allowing the rake to rent the charter. But she wouldn’t be tagging along. The slinky spiky haired Dawn could take her place for all she cared. She wanted nothing more to do with the over-sexed fiend!

  The vision of Dawn wrapped in Jacque’s strong arms stabbed at her heart, and not for the first time since she’d left the pizza parlor. Why? Why did this madman have such an unwavering effect on her? And what if the freebooter stole away with the charter? She groaned, and then smiled sadistically. Well now, as rightful owner of her father’s business, that’d be Mr. Rafeull’s problem now wouldn’t it?

  With a heavy sigh, she began punching in the numbers to Sid’s cell when a bold rap came from the door. She jumped, dropping the phone onto the bed. It was Jacque, she knew, although she’d honestly not expected him back so soon. Her heart picked up its pace.