Corsair Cove Read online

  “Wh-what are you looking at?” her voice choked.

  “You.”

  She looked at him. Big mistake. His confident appearance was unnerving in itself. He looked wickedly delicious in white cotton trousers and a thin knit sweater that blended perfectly with his sun bronzed skin. He seemed to like the feel of the sneakers she’d insisted he purchase as he’d pounced around like a runaway ball after trying them on.

  She wondered how he would sketch himself.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Oh? About what?” Not that she cared, but talking helped alleviate the sexual tension building within her.

  Yet he was as cool as a melon. “Pondering as to whether you’ll allow me to kiss you good-bye or not.”

  “Pffft—not on your life, pal!”

  “We shall see.” He grinned with the impermeable confidence of a man that had never lost a wager. His gaze returned to the window and the passing landscape.

  Esa quirked a brow and glared at him. “Indeed we shall.” She chuckled inwardly when she noticed the few nicks on his chin from where he’d shaved himself with his new blue razor. Serves him right, she mused.

  The sight of the lazy row of boats loitering in the harbor along with the salty mist of the ocean tugged at her heartstrings. God how she missed her father, missed being at sea with him! It had been three weeks since they’d last been sailing together. He’d been ill then…she only wished he’d told her just how sick he really was. It seemed he was a vault of hurtful secrets. Tears stung her eyes and she steeled her jaw to keep from crying.

  Jacque had been speaking to her but she hadn’t heard him. He wiped away the escaped teardrop running down her cheek with the tip of a Kleenex. She looked at him and gasped. Was that concern in his eyes, or smugness? Surely the balloon headed dolt didn’t think her tears were for him? Nearly jumping out of the car, she unlocked the trunk and sat his bags on the pavement before storming toward the lengthy peer.

  The Abigail was a beautiful forty-five foot Sailing Catamaran. Esa’s heart begged her to board. To hell with Jacque LaFleur, it may be her last opportunity to ride her mother’s favorite boat.

  Jacque’s suitcases made a loud thud as they hit the wood planks. His eyes were the size of small saucers. “What ‘tis this, this thing? Ye expect me to sail across the Atlantic in this, this juvenile raft?” he spouted, visibly distraught by such an outrageous concept.

  Esa temporarily dismissed her animosity and laughed at his innocence. “Oh Jacque, this raft is perfectly safe. Boats have come a long way since you…” she trailed off as an attractive young couple, accompanied by Pete, the hired Captain, appeared on deck.

  “Hello Pete,” she greeted before turning her focus to the striking pair. “You must be the passengers Jeff mentioned. I’m Esa Keats, and this is Jacque, er, LaFleur.”

  The bubbly couple joined them on the peer and the nearly nude female introduced herself to Esa curtly before sauntering slim hips and legs that would make a giraffe envious in Jacque’s direction.

  Esa briefly pondered what one of Jacque’s portraits of her might look like. A giraffe hauling a couple of ready to burst water balloons, she mused with a smile.

  The giraffe extended its elegant hand toward Jacque while thrusting her water balloons high and proud. The creature’s voice matched honey colored hair when it spoke. “I’m Candy,” it purred.

  “Indeed,” Jacque said with a roguish grin, his parched eyes soaking her up like a dry sponge.

  Esa rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust. Typical. The show only helped her cause by rekindling the loathing she felt toward the womanizing pirate.

  Jacque accepted the woman’s hand and placed a gentle kiss upon her knuckle. “The pleasure is mine, mademoiselle.” His head dipped briefly before his eyes openly resumed their dance with her barely-there red string bikini.

  The small scrap of material covering silicone inflated breasts left absolutely nothing to the imagination. When the woman turned to expose her thong-clad caboose, Jacque released a choked gasp. His expression matched his shock while his eyes remained glued to the thin string. His mouth must have opened and closed at least a dozen times.

  The sandy blond male stepped up and offered Jacque his hand. “I’m Brad.” He was tall, nicely built and lean, not near as muscular as Jacque, but well defined.

  “Ye let ye wench strut about in naught but a string mate?” Jacque’s brow shot upward, were it possible, he looked even more appalled when the man had the audacity to laugh at the inquiry.

  “What do you mean? She looks fabulous! Come on man, you act like you’ve never seen a hot chick in a thong before.” Brad shook his head and nodded toward Esa before returning to the Abigail. Candy followed him, but not before striking a Marilyn Monroe pose and batting long flirty lashes in Jacque’s direction. She lazily scanned his dazzling physique and blew him a kiss before disappearing below deck.

  Esa couldn’t believe her eyes. The woman was a shameless hussy! Esa had no idea how long she’d stood there with her mouth open before Jacque walked over and placed his hand beneath her chin, closing it.

  “Ye’ll let the flies in, lass.” He grinned and cast her a playful wink. “Am I to travel with that harlot aboard me ship?”

  Her hands rested on the swell of her well-rounded hips, her eyes narrowed and she gaped at him in disbelief. “Oh what are you complaining about? By the way she looks at you—the way you look at each other—you’ll have her in your bed within five minutes of boarding.”

  Jacque flinched and feigned as though she’d shot an arrow threw his heart, staggering back a few paces before his back hit a wall. She might have laughed, had she not been so flabbergasted by what she’d just seen.

  Things like that only happened in the movies, or so she thought. “Give me a break, LaFleur. I saw the way you fell over her. Hell, you should be in your glory. It looks as if that’s one wench that won’t give you any resistance at all.”

  A lazy smile broke out on his face. He took a step closer to her and asked in a low tone, “Would that bother ye, lass?”

  “You wish,” she spat, irritated that he always seemed to find amusement in her misery.

  Jacque expelled a heavy sigh. “Esa, will ye not reconsider? I could use the company.”

  What? He was asking her to go with him? “Hmmph, funny, that’s not what you said last night. Besides, I think you’ll have plenty of company. You won’t have any time to spend with me.” She recoiled at the bitterness, the sting of jealousy that fell from her own lips.

  “I’m sorry I’ve upset ye, lass. Though if I must travel with a woman, I’d prefer it was you.” He’d mastered that sultry gaze, the one that could make any woman forget her name, let alone recall why she would have any reason to be upset with him.

  Damn his ass! She couldn’t make her mouth say no. Of all the pirates that could have fallen into her lap, why did it have to be someone so breathtakingly gorgeous—so irresistibly charming? It wasn’t fair. No one should possess such power.

  She considered his offer. What if she refused? How long would it be before he shared the hussy’s bed? Of course, if she did go that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still visit the slut’s bed. He was a man, complete with needs, as he’d so blatantly informed her.

  But why should it matter to her if he chose to bed Candy? He damn sure wouldn’t be sharing hers! She had Sid. She loved Sid. Jacque was free to do whatever, whenever and with whomever he damn well pleased.

  She could care less. “Sorry Jacque, I’m going home.”

  Candy reappeared on deck at that moment. “Jacque, are you coming darlin’? The sooner you climb on board, the sooner we can get underway.” She flashed a sultry smile and a wink before disappearing again without so much as a glance toward Esa. Talk about innuendoes.

  If that wasn’t a personal invite into the lustful gates of Candyland, she didn’t know what was! Esa expected steam to waft from her own ears at any mi
nute.

  Jacque turned pleading puppy-dog eyes on her. “Have mercy?”

  “Dammit Jacque, why should I? I have to get back to Sid—”

  “Sid? The wiry brute with the left hook? Ye would actually consider returning to the likes of him?” There was a quite rage behind those eyes. This man could turn deadly in a fraction of a second if he so chose.

  “Sid isn’t like that, he was just upset.”

  “Don’t attempt to defend the bloody sea dog to me, Esa. In my time, if a man can strike a woman once and get away with it, he’ll do it again and again and again, until he can’t do it any more. Of that, ye can be sure.”

  “Jacque, I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. It’s my decision. Sid is my fiancé, the man I want to marry, the man I want to spend my life with not y—” she caught herself, if a bit late.

  A slow, knowing grin spread his mouth. “Not me, mademoiselle?” He chuckled. “Esa, ye flatter me lass. Indeed. Though I’m not so fond of marriage myself, I’d like it if you’d give me this chance to woo ye away from the foul scalawag you call a fiancé.”

  She inhaled, stunned by his words. “Woo me? I know what your interpretation of wooing is LaFleur and I don’t want any part of it.” Didn’t she?

  He brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “Ah, my sweet beauty. Ye lovely lips say one thing, yet your bonny flesh tends to disagree. Give me this chance. Just a few weeks, that’s all I’m asking. It may be all I have to give. But at least ye’ll have time to decide if ye really want to return to that scurvy dung pile. What say ye to this?”

  Was he serious? Did he really intend to try and woo her, as he casually put it, away from Sid? She would have to absolutely be out of her mind to agree to such a lethal proposal.

  Even so, was she really ready to say goodbye to this man that could bring a smile to her face in light of her devastating losses? This man with the ability to turn her to mush with one sensual gaze? This man that, despite her rejections, attempted to lure her from the edge of an emotional breakdown? He was right. Her body wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. But could she trust him? A pirate? Knowing full well he was only after one thing. If she was foolish enough to give in to him, he would undoubtedly break her heart.

  And to step aboard The Abigail, she may as well wrap herself in a gold ribbon and lay herself at his feet.

  It may be all I have to give. How much time did he have?

  Could her heart survive another loss?

  There was no denying the smooth talking corsair fed a hunger burrowed deep inside her. Sid had never looked at her in such a smoldering manner. And she couldn’t recall ever having such a heightened sense of arousal when she was with him.

  Sometimes when Jacque looked at her his eyes made her feel like she was the only woman alive, like she was something special. Not frowned upon for her fuller figure, but appreciated. And the way he’d drawn her. As if she were the most precious, the most coveted woman ever to have walked the earth. With Jacque, she felt needed and just maybe…something more?

  Perhaps she only thought she sensed these things, as it was something she’d wanted as long as she could remember, something she desperately needed at such a crossroad in her life.

  Jacque offered an outlet to the endless pandemonium, however temporary it might be. And with her entire being she wanted to climb onboard. There was no point in denying it. He certainly seemed to know her thoughts, and her feelings better than she did. With everything she was, Esa wanted to jump onto that boat and sail off into the sunset, leaving the madness behind and never having to look back.

  Whenever Jacque left her, admittedly, part of her would miss him. Would it pass once she was back in Sid’s loving arms? Standing here in her moment of truth, she wasn’t so sure. Not about Sid, not about Jacque, and certainly not about her future.

  What to do? Whatever her decision, she had to make it quickly. She could say yes, and fall hook, line and sinker into the cunning pirate’s sensual netting by the end of the trip. Or, she could say no, return home to Sid, and leave Jacque in the clutches of the life-sized Barbie doll aboard Rafeull’s charter. And if she declined, she’d not be burdened with endless questions, nor glimpse the child-like innocence of seeing him discover something new; things she had taken for granted all her life but were miraculous to him.

  “C’mon darling, there’s something I want to show you.” Candy’s voice floated up from below.

  Esa cringed as the woman’s shrill had the effect of nails on a chalkboard. “I’ll get my bags,” she gritted without giving it another thought. She was tired of cowering down, always being the one to give but never take. She glared at a beaming Jacque and her insides turned to jelly.

  She hoped like hell she’d made the right decision.

  “Aye lass, allow me to be of some assistance.” He smiled and offered her a strong arm as they made their way to the car.

  Once there, Jacque pinned her against the door, his hands resting atop the hood. “I don’t suppose ye have anything the likes of the red string the harlot wears in your satchel?” he asked, his breath hot on her face. He smelled wonderful; like sandalwood, and the tangerine he’d eaten ate breakfast.

  “Ah, no. Sorry, I don’t like thongs,” she answered truthfully. She’d tried one once after Sid had purchased a pink set for her, but hated the unnatural way the string rode up her crack. The feeling reminded her of the wedgies her classmates would give each other, pulling one’s underwear uncomfortable up their backside as far as humanly possible. And she’d hated it then.

  “Good. I don’t take kindly to other men ogling my woman,” he whispered in her ear before claiming her mouth in a brief yet promising kiss. His teeth captured and held her lower lip teasingly before he released it. His eyes pledged more of the same once they were aboard the yacht. “Are ye ready for the journey of a lifetime lass?”

  She could hardly breathe, much less answer his question. Panting like a canine in heat, she muttered, “Er, sure, why not?”

  A slow secretive grin rounded the corners of his velvety lips. “Indeed,” he purred and threw her that sexy wink she’d come to adore.

  Adore? What had she gotten herself into?

  Her head questioned such a hasty decision. Her body couldn’t wait to discover the unspoken promise behind the corsair’s magnetic kiss. Her heart teetered somewhere between the two.

  Ten

  The next few days were pure bliss for Esa. Candy had acquired a terrible case of motion sickness soon after they departed, the poor soul, and had spent the last forty-eight hours confined to her cabin. For one that claimed to love the open sea, she’d certainly gotten off to a rocky start and wouldn’t be deriving any pleasure from the confinements of her cabin. Her sidekick, Brad, spent much of his time on deck talking with one of the crewmembers. Or Jacque.

  After drilling the captain with hours of questions pertaining to the operation of the yacht, Jacque spent the greater part of his waking hours at her beck and call.

  To her surprise, Jacque kept the fangs under wrap and behaved like a perfect gentleman. He was very attentive to her needs. If she was thirsty, a refreshing drink instantly appeared in her hand. If she was tired, her carried her to her cabin and gently kissed her goodnight at her door. If she was cold, he snuggled her in the warmth of his embrace.

  Aside from his ferocious disposition, Jacque LaFleur was quite the charmer. He seemed genuinely interested in learning every sorted detail of her life, her likes, dislikes, her family and their shipping business. Though he never offered much about himself. He reminded her of a faucet, red hot when discussing her past, ice cold when asked anything of a personal nature.

  ~ * ~

  Jacque understood Charles Keats’ reasoning for not wanting to leave a woman to run a man’s business, although he was left baffled as to why Esa’s father would leave the business to a complete stranger. It made no sense. Perhaps the cancer had reached his brain; therefore, he wasn’t capable of making rationa
l decisions.

  He had no idea how long he would remain in her time, but prayed he remained long enough to meet the mysterious Rafeull. Only then would he feel better about leaving her. Indeed, he concurred, a woman should be kept at home, with plenty of babies to occupy her time. Though he was learning quickly the bonny Esa Keats didn’t share those views and frayed away from that particular topic of discussion whenever possible. Though her actions often struck him as timid, something told him the fiery lass within would never take to being ordered about by a man, let alone be expected to stay at home and do women’s work. He was growing rather fond of the underlying passion in her eyes.

  But why would her father choose a stranger? Jacque could certainly see why Sid was not a suitable replacement. There was something about the man that unsettled him. From the few unpleasant encounters he’d had with him, he could see Sid Cromwell was not a man to be trusted, on any level.

  Charles Keats had smelled a rat. Plain and simple. And no matter what Esa thought of his actions, Jacque was certain her father was looking out for her best interests.

  Shielding themselves from the hot sun beneath a blue and green umbrella on the upper deck, Jacque studied Esa’s features. The wind was gentle and carried with it the ocean’s comforting perfume. There was a quiet peace lingering in the air between them. For the first time in a long while, he felt content.

  “I think ye father was correct in not trusting Sid to run the business,” he announced, swallowing down the last bite of a chicken salad sandwich.

  “Really?” Esa quirked a brow, lifting the iced tea to her lips. “Well,” she added with a sigh. “It’s no secret Pops was never fond of Sid. In fact, he did everything possible to sever our relationship. I never could understand what he held against him. Though I’d hoped—” She froze as Jacque was suddenly in her face, his tongue darting out and licking the remnants of mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth.

  “Mmm,” he breathed, adding with a wink before coming to his feet, “Best sandwich I’ve ever had the pleasure of devouring.” He handed her a fresh glass of tea before easing back into his seat. “Love is blind, lass. Ye see in the bilge rat what ye want to see, no more, no less.” He shrugged.