A Pirate's Possession (23 page)

“Where's the blasted tomb then?” she demanded in frustration.

Nate's eyes rivaled the sparkle of the emerald she'd first seen when he'd opened the chest.

“We were practically standing on it yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Claire thought back. It wasn't in the cave, and as much as her father had died there, she certainly didn't think he'd died at peace.

“Oh,” she gasped, then spun and grabbed his forearms. “It's in the graveyard. They buried it in the cemetery!”

Nate's teeth shone when he smiled. “Let's go find out.”

With the snuffbox in one hand, he took Claire's hand with the other. They left the chests and raced over the sand, laughing like children when it tugged at their boots and nearly sent them sprawling. Nate's strength kept her upright, kept her close as they ran from beach to jungle. They worked their way under and over vines thick as her arm, past branches burdened with broad, serrated-edged leaves, and leapt over roots and shrubs. Their laughter was loud enough to scare birds from their roosts. Monkeys with soft brown eyes stopped grooming to watch them race by.

They didn't stop running until the jungle opened to the crumbling remains of the town and to its other side, where the gray slabs of the headstones rose from the ground.

When they crossed the low wall into the cemetery, they respectfully slowed to a walk. There was something about a graveyard, Claire thought, that demanded hushed voices. Even the wind accommodated it. The breeze that swept between the stones was gentle as angel's wings.

“I'll look over here,” Claire said and slipped her hand from Nate's, veering right.

She was careful where she stepped, and when she read the names and the dates on the stones, she couldn't help being moved. Some had died so young. They were sons and daughters, wives and husbands. They'd lived, and the fact that someone had cared enough about them to mark where they lay proved that their time on the earth had been cherished. It had mattered.

And here she was, she thought with a grimace, walking among them looking for gold.

Disgusted, she left the rest of the stones unread. She couldn't, wouldn't, bring a shovel to this place in the hopes of getting rich.

“What is it?” Nate asked, talking louder once they'd stepped back over the low wall.

She gestured to the graves. “I can't bring myself to seek wealth among the dead. It's barbaric.” She shuddered. “It's inhuman.”

Her words had fear sliding its icy hands over Nate's skin. How many times, under the guise of Sam Steele, had he plundered a ship, taken lives, and stolen off with their cargo? His sword may not have always sought a battle, but it had never turned from one either. And it was that sword and his time at sea that had given him a greater wealth than he'd ever dreamed of, even greater than the one he'd imagined when he'd lain cold and hungry on the street and dreamed of a better life.

They'd confessed a great deal last night, and though a tremendous weight had lifted off his shoulders, one remained. Steele. Claire could forgive a four-year-old boy who'd been shocked to witness his mother's death and had taken a life in his grief, but he feared, especially now, that her forgiveness wouldn't come so easily for a man who'd willingly, and happily, agreed to turn pirate. He couldn't risk losing her now that he'd only found her again.

“Come,” he said, taking her hand and holding it a little tighter than he had before. He led her around the graveyard, thinking, if nothing else, they could walk the areas they hadn't yet searched and enjoy the time together until Vincent came for them. Nate wasn't happy to leave the treasure, considering what it had cost them, especially Claire. His hand curved around the snuffbox. They'd come so close.

His foot caught on something, and before he could stop the fall, he was facedown on the ground with grass tickling his nose. Claire laughed and Nate flipped himself over, saw the light shining on her face as she exploded in a gale of laughter. He thought to himself that he'd gladly embarrass himself over again to hear that lovely sound ring loud and true.

Still, he had his pride, so he brushed himself off as he came to his feet. Her mirth died as he was wiping the dirt from his knees. He straightened, found her dropped onto her knees.

“Claire?”

“It wasn't in the cemetery, Nate. ‘Alone at peace.' ”

Claire gestured to the rock Nate deemed must have tripped him. But when he leaned closer, saw the letters
SF
carved into it, he knew it wasn't any old rock. It marked the treasure.

Excitement once again rolled through him. He couldn't stop the grin that stretched over his face.

“You don't have any objections to digging here, do you?”

Tears shone in Claire's eyes and she shook her head. Nate's chest tightened just looking at her. He knew that no matter what treasure they unearthed, nothing would ever be more valuable than Claire.

“Let's go fetch the shovels.”

Isla de Hueso had two accessible beaches, one that faced north and one that faced south. The
Phantom
bobbed just offshore of the northern beach. It certainly looked abandoned, James thought as he leveled his looking glass onto the pearly sand.

A handful of dead jellyfish lay rotting in the sun, their veil-like skin looking dry and crisp. Scattered clumps of seaweed lay here and there, making it appear as though the sand was growing mold.

Though James saw nothing to make him think that Nate or anyone else had been there recently, he hadn't changed his mind about going ashore. The only way to be sure, to cast aside any doubt that Isla de Hueso had been Nate's destination, was to go see for himself. If they found nothing on this beach, they'd move to the other. He wouldn't leave anything to chance.

He, Horace, and four other men rowed to shore. Once the boat was dragged onto the sand, James began his search. Sand was fickle and he didn't spend too much time looking for tracks on it. A good wind or rain, both of which they'd had in the last few days, would have obliterated most signs of human activity. Instead he searched the tree line.

A deserted island such as this one had thick and lush forests. Walking through the tangle of vines and shrubbery wouldn't be impossible, but it would leave its mark. As James strode down the line where beach gave way to trees, he paid close attention to both the forest floor and anything at eye level. He looked for broken branches, cut vines, and here, sheltered from the driving wind, he searched for signs of footprints in the moss and decaying layer of leaves.

“Captain? Over here.”

They had spread out along the beach and Horace was nearest James. He didn't have to say it loud for James to hear and soon he was looking at what Horace had found.

“Looks like a path to me, Captain.”

Indeed it did. Smaller branches, those that could be cut with a sword, had been severed. Tops of ferns lay askew where part of them had been trampled into the spongy ground. And it was there, on the floor littered with decaying leaves, dirt, and moss, that he saw the unmistakable indent of a boot. A very long boot. He smiled. He hadn't been wrong after all.

James held up a finger and held his breath, but no human sound could be heard. It didn't, however, mean that Nate wasn't still on the island. He simply wasn't close enough to be heard. A good thing, James figured, since he wanted to be much better armed when they found him.

He stepped farther into the trees, then crouched down. Another boot, this one much smaller.
The dwarf or the kid?
James wondered.

“We should bring more men ashore,” Horace whispered.

James stood, nodding his head in the direction of the beach. Neither he nor Horace said a word until they were on the sand, standing next to each other.

Horace was equally as big as Nate. In fact, James's ship was outfitted with many men built like Nate and Horace and some small wiry ones as well. The small ones could climb rigging like monkeys and were fast and wily. Since he had no doubt he'd be taking the treasure from Nate, he was glad he'd had the foresight to hire both types of men.

It didn't take long to issue the order. If Nate was ashore, James didn't want him to know he had company until James was armed and ready. He wanted to keep the element of surprise for himself.

The two men he and Horace had come ashore with were sent back in the longboat to retrieve another twenty men as well as an arsenal of weapons. The rest of the crew would be told to keep a sharp eye out for ships. They hadn't seen any, but that didn't mean there wasn't one nearby.

Since Nate had to have known he'd been followed for a time, it would only be good strategy to have his ship drop him off and lead anyone who may be looking for them away from the island. It was a good strategy, but only if someone fell for it.

 

 

When they arrived at camp, Nate ignored the shovels they'd come back for and scooped Claire up into his arms instead. She squealed, wrapping her hands around his neck the way he'd known she would. The way he'd wanted her to. He loved having her arms around him.

“What are you doing?” she laughed. “We have a treasure to dig up.”

“That one's not going anywhere. Besides, the one I have here is even better,” Nate said; then he captured her mouth with his.

She was so sweet, so incredibly perfect the way her mouth opened under his, the way she responded with the same need and passion that burned in him.

He laid her down on their bed then covered her body with his until they were aligned in all the right places. Until her softness cradled his hardness and the jut of her nipples pressed against his chest.

He buried his face in her neck, kissed along her jaw, licked her ear. He whispered what he had every intention of doing to her body. She parted her legs, allowed him to settle in deeper. His hands cupped her breasts and his thumbs flickered over their perfect peaks. He slid down her body, lifted her shirt and undershirt, and opened his mouth over her.

Claire arched off the boughs, the sweetest moan he'd ever heard escaping her lips when he drew her nipple into his mouth. With his hands spread at her back, he held her, drinking in every shiver of desire that rippled through her.

Her hands held him there and he suckled, teased until she was begging and he was throbbing with need. He slid her trousers down her legs, sucked at the spot on her inner thigh he'd discovered drove her wild. His fingers found her wet and ready.

He shucked his clothes, mating his mouth to hers. Her kiss further fed his hunger. Her tongue was in his mouth, teasing and tasting. Her lips played against his. When she wrapped them around his tongue and sucked, a flash of lust gripped his loins.

He lifted her knees, spread them, and plunged hard. Again she arched, bowing under the desire and need that held her captive. He took advantage of her position and lowered his mouth to her breast.

“Nate,” she gasped. Then she clutched around him, hot and sweet, and took him up with her.

 

 

Shouldn't we go find the treasure?”

“Hmm,” he answered.

He was lying behind her and holding her tight with one arm. His breath tickled Claire's neck; his chest hair was fuzzy against her back. She smiled. It thrilled her to know she was capable of making such a big man lose control and that she herself was capable of such passion.

She poked him gently in the belly. “Aren't you excited to find it, after all this time?”

“I will be, once my brain starts working again.”

She laughed, then twisted out from under him. Though he grumbled and reached for her, she scrambled away before he could pull her back.

“Come on, Nate.” She grabbed her trousers and drew them on. “Let's not waste daylight.”

He balanced on an elbow and his eyes gleamed wickedly. “Who said we were wasting anything? Seems to me that was a pretty fine way to enjoy daylight. And I don't recall you complaining.”

She flushed. She couldn't help it. Talking openly in such a way about such a thing was new to her. “I wasn't.”

Then, laughing, she threw him his shirt. “I'll go without you if you don't hurry.”

He sighed heavily, but he got dressed. By then Claire was dancing from foot to foot. This was really happening! After so many years, so much heartbreak, she was finally going to find the infamous treasure of the
Santa Francesca
.

“I don't need to ask how you're feeling.” Nate smiled as he cupped a large hand around her neck. “It's all over your face.”

“It almost seems surreal, doesn't it?”

He kissed her lips, then her forehead. “It's real. Let's go get—”