Authors: Christine Dorsey
The force of the dolphin’s headlong impact
left the shark slow and listless in the water. But more
importantly, again facing Lucy. Jamie didn’t need an invitation to
seize the moment. He lunged with the knife, driving the blade
deeply behind the shark’s gills, then pulled smartly to open a
long, deep wound. This roused the large shark from its doldrums and
it swam haltingly out to sea, blood gushing from its wounds.
“Jamie! Jamie!”
He appeared dazed, but her cries finally
seemed to register and he moved her way.
“Are ye all right, Annie?” he called, his
voice breathless. He stopped abruptly as he climbed onto the rocks.
“My God, did it bite ye?”
At first Anne didn’t know what he meant, then
she glanced down at her foot and saw the blood. The sight surprised
her because she honestly didn’t feel anything. But she did remember
kicking the sharp coral. “It’s just a scratch, from the rocks,” she
told him, wincing when he scrambled up the jagged rocks to grab her
foot. Now she could feel it. “It’s nothing, really,” Anne insisted.
“Are you...?” Emotion clogged her throat and she couldn’t continue.
She reached down, her fingers skimming his water-slick hair.
When he looked up Anne thought she might
drown in the blue-green depths of his eyes. Her fingers traced down
his cheek and he turned, pressing his mouth against her salty
skin.
“We have to get back to the cay,” he
said.
Anne couldn’t help it. She glanced toward the
water, then shook her head. Her voice was small. “I can’t.”
“Ye must.” He reached up grabbing her chin
when she would have shaken her head again. “Ye must and ye can,
Annie.” His gaze caught her and it was as if he imbued her with his
strength.
“I can help ye, but ye must help yourself,
too.”
Anne took a deep breath, trying to stave off
the tears that lay just beneath the surface. He was so strong and
intrepid, and she wouldn’t appear the coward in front of him. She
wouldn’t. Anne swallowed. “All right,” she said, forcing her voice
to be steady. “I can do it.”
“That’s my lass,” he said and smiled.
And Anne thought her heart would burst.
In that moment she realized she’d do anything
for him... or die trying.
But making herself slide back into the water
was harder than she thought it would be. The memory of the shark,
its jagged-toothed mouth, tore at her confidence. When she caught
sight of a dark shape undulating through the water, Anne
gasped.
“’Tis but Lucy.”
Other memories flooded back. Of the dolphin
attacking the shark, giving her time to escape. “Is she all
right?”
“Aye.” Jamie grinned as he reached out a hand
to help her into the sea. “She’s a tough old bird,” he said. As if
the dolphin heard the compliment and the warmth behind the words,
she lifted her long snouted head above the water and emitted a
series of clicking noises.
Pushing away from the rocks, Anne laughed
nervously. “It’s almost as if she’s talking to us.”
“Perhaps she is.”
There were times during the swim back to
shore that Anne wondered if she could go on. Fatigue washed over
her as steadily as the swells of warm water. But whenever she
thought her arms couldn’t move, or her feet couldn’t kick, the
captain was there with something amusing to say. Besides, she knew
after his battle with the shark, he must be as weary as she. So she
kept going.
They were both breathless as they stumbled
ashore, collapsing to their knees, then rolling face up onto the
sand. Side by side they lay, waiting for their hearts to stop
pounding.
Jamie twisted his head to look at her, and
Anne did the same. For a moment they simply stared, then as if a
dam broke, began laughing. After jerking the knife from his
waistband and tossing it aside, Jamie shifted toward her, leaning
on his elbow.
“Just what were ye doing out there, by
yourself?” His question might have seemed harsh except for the
gentle expression on his face and the caress of his fingertip.
“I... I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, ye sure as hell did that.”
“I know it was foolish, but I’d been
practicing and I wanted to show you how well I could swim, but you
weren’t there.” Anne gulped air after delivering that speech.
“I was on the lee side of the island, diving
for conch.”
“But you don’t like conch.”
He grinned. “Ye do.” Jamie’s palm curved
around her cheek. “But we were talking about ye.”
“I’ve told you most everything. I swam out,
and got very tired. And then the shark came, and it seemed like
forever that it circled me. Almost as if it knew my fear and toyed
with me.” Anne’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think that’s possible?”
Jamie’s shrug was noncommittal. “I can’t say,
Annie, but I do know this.” He let his breath out slowly,
deliberately. “’Tis glad I am that you’re safe.” Jamie lowered his
head, anticipating the moment when their lips would meet. He tasted
her surrender, and the remnants of fear, and the kiss deepened.
Anne’s arms locked around his neck, holding
on as if she’d never let him go. She thought of this, of the strong
feel of him when the shark imprisoned her. And she feared she’d
never know the sweet oblivion of his touch again. But now he was
here, warm and sturdy, and real.
His mouth left hers to feast on the tender
skin of her neck. She wore his shirt, but it was soaked and nearly
transparent, molded to her body enticingly. And Jamie already knew
he couldn’t resist her.
She was arching and wriggling beneath him
when he clamped his mouth over her straining nipple. Jamie was so
aroused he almost didn’t notice her flinch. He lifted his head, his
breath rasping. “’Tis something wrong?”
Though she shook her head, Jamie could see
the lines of pain around her mouth. “What...?” In that instant he
remembered her foot, and glanced down. The jagged cut was bleeding
and bruised, and Jamie felt like a fool for not tending it
earlier.
She protested when he carried her back to
their pallet. “I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a little scratch.”
Ignoring her words Jamie set her down and
preceded to examine her foot. He cleansed it with clear water from
the pond, then wrapped it with the lining from her coat.
Despite the stinging pain Anne smiled when
she looked down at the golden tangle of Jamie’s head as he bent
over her foot. His expression was so serious, and she doubted a
surgeon could do a better job of bandaging.
“That should keep the sand out, at least,” he
said, glancing up. “What’s so amusing?”
“You.” Anne leaned back on her arms.
“Me?”
“Yes.” She was grinning from ear to ear now.
“Despite your gold ear loop, you don’t look very much like a pirate
now.”
His brow arched. “No?”
“No,” Anne said emphatically.
“What, pray tell, do I look like then?”
Anne thought for a moment, finally shrugging
her hair off her shoulders. “A nice man, I suppose.”
“
Nice
?” He spat out the word like it
was insulting.
Anne, decided to taunt him further. “Yes, and
sweet, caring... kind.” His eyes widened with each word, until he
was staring at her in disbelief.
“Hasn’t anyone ever called you those things
before?” When he shook his head, Anne simply laughed. “Well, they
obviously don’t know you as I do.”
The expression on his face changed. “Few
people know me as well as ye, Annie,” he said as his gaze raked her
body. “But then no one knows ye like I do either.”
The gleam in his eyes personified buccaneers
but his touch was gentle as he lowered Anne onto the dried seaweed.
His kisses were light, butterfly wings that flitted from her cheek
to her ear then lower. His tongue flicked out, dampening the skin
at the base of her throat, and Anne moaned.
But though she burned for him, he took his
time, kissing her fingers and toes, mindful of the bandaged cut as
he softly pressed his mouth there.
By the time he entered her, Anne was wet and
aching. She clung to his shoulders, reveling in the slow, steady
rhythm of his thrusts. Feeling the pleasure build until she threw
back her head, crying out as he brought her to a consuming
release.
“’Tis best if ye get some rest now,” he
whispered into her damp hair.
“But I’m not tired in the least.” Anne’s yawn
belied her words. “Well, perhaps just a little.” It seemed decadent
to sleep in the daytime, to stretch and shut her eyes and feel him
beside her. But it felt so wonderful.
Arnie wasn’t sure how long she slept, but she
awoke to a pounding sound that made her sit up and look around.
“What are you doing?”
Jamie paused, the rock he used to knock the
boards off the rowboat stilled in midair. “I’m making us a proper
shelter,” was all he said before going back to work.
“A proper I...?” Anne pushed to her feet,
wincing a bit when she put weight on her cut. “We have a proper
shelter.” She motioned over her shoulder toward the thatched roof
held up by oars. She may have complained about it before, but he
was right. It had served them perfectly well for a fortnight.
That’s why his sudden contention that it wouldn’t do seemed all the
more strange.
He stopped what he was doing to backhand
sweat off his brow, then looked over and gave Anne a wry smile.
“You were right. It isn’t much of a shelter.”
Had she said that? Of course she had. But
that was before... Before what, she wasn’t sure. Except that now
she knew better. She glanced back at the cozy, drooping roof, and
the pallet underneath, then back at Jamie. “It seems perfectly fine
to me.”
He shook his head, and Anne noticed he’d tied
his hair back with a bit of yarn from her hat. She noticed
something else, too. “You’ve shaved.” She reached up to touch his
cheek. The skin there was fairer than on the rest of him. It also
sported a nick or two. “How...?”
He shrugged again and his face turned
crimson. “The beard was getting straggly,” he mumbled before
bending back to his task of dismantling the boat.
“But I still don’t understand how.” Anne’s
eyes opened wide. “The knife? You shaved with the knife?”
“I told ye, it was getting straggly. Now
haven’t we something better to talk about?”
“Yes.” Anne settled on the sand, pulling his
shirt down over her drawn-up knees. “Perhaps you can tell me why
you’re doing all this.”
“All what?” He pried a board loose and
carefully stacked it with the others. Then he worked the peg free
and placed it in his pocket.
Anne simply folded her arms and waited until
he finished. When he looked up she arched a brow in question.
“It came to me today,” he said, carefully
choosing his words. “How vulnerable we are... ye are.” He seemed
embarrassed as he squatted in front of her. “There’s not much I can
do....” He shrugged. “But I thought ye might feel more secure with
walls.”
“Is all this because of what happened today?”
Anne bit her lip. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She hurried on without
waiting for his reply. “It was my fault, my foolishness that the
shark attacked me.” Anne grabbed his hands.
“I want to protect ye.”
She bent her head, resting her forehead
against his, love for him burning in her heart. “I don’t need a
fanciful house.” All she needed was his strong arms, Anne thought,
and almost said. But his next words stopped her. And made her sit
back.
“’Tis another consideration. One I hadn’t
thought of till today, though Lord knows why not.”
“What is it?” Anne couldn’t imagine what
could make him so serious.
“There could be a child,” he said simply and
Anne’s lashes drifted down, blocking her gaze from his. “Is
there...?”Jamie swallowed. “Are ye enceinte already?”
“No.” Her eyes shot open to meet his, then
lowered again. “At least not that I’m aware.” With one finger she
drew circles in the sand. She may have been an innocent before the
pirate captain, but she did know how babies were made. Anne took a
deep breath. “What do you suggest we do?”
His shrug reminded her of the pirate she
knew.
Anne tried to think of a solution to this
problem. Only one came to mind. “Should we...? Do you wish to
stop...?”
“Nay.” He lowered his voice. “Do ye?”
Anne had to smile at his response. First
vehement denial, then consideration of her feelings. She shook her
head slowly. “I doubt we could, even if we thought it best.”
“And do ye think it best?”
He seemed to her at that moment very
vulnerable. Not like the arrogant pirate captain at all. Anne
reached out, touching the cheek he’d taken pains to shave. “I can’t
imagine not sleeping in your arms. Or kissing you. Or feeling your
strength inside me.” Or loving you, Anne thought, but didn’t say.
She couldn’t imagine what his reaction to a declaration like that
might be.
He turned into her hand, pressing his lips to
her palm. “I’m of the same mind.” He carefully lowered her hand,
linking his fingers with hers.
So she helped him make improvements to their
island. It amazed Anne how their roles had changed. Now it was
Jamie who hollowed out a log to fill with rainwater. Who
experimented with and discarded a drying rack to smoke fish. The
gulls didn’t seem to realize he hadn’t built the contraption for
their convenience.
“We have plenty of fish in the sea,” Anne
pointed out, nearly repeating the words he said to her when they
first arrived on the island.
He merely nodded his agreement.
The house building proceeded slowly. But he
managed to work on it a bit each day. Actually after discussing the
design they decided walls were not a good idea. They impeded the
cooling trade winds. But he did expand the roof, making the columns
holding it up sturdier.
Anne’s monthly menses came and went, opening
again the question of abstinence. They were dealing with a clean
slate, so to speak, and they both knew it. She wasn’t with child.
Should they risk conception?