Wrong Kind of Paradise (10 page)

appearance.”

He shook his head and paced several steps away from her. “You were supposed to be convinced to

visit your mother’s home in England and on a ship before the red coats even touched the beach.” His fists

clenched at his sides. “That was the agreement. Worthington broke it, and this is the result.”

A sick feeling settled in her stomach. Blac hadn’t really betrayed her. He’d stayed loyal to her

father, and she’d been horrible to him these last two years. He’d only done what he believed was right.

“And once I got to England and learned of his arrest?”

“Then I was allowed to tell you the truth.”

An apology wouldn’t leave her lips though. “So I was supposed to just idly sit back and accept that

you both planned my whole life out for me, without my consent?” Angel leapt to her feet. “I never got a

choice. Both of you were just going to assume you knew what was best for me? And you let him?”

He may not have betrayed her father but he’d certainly had no qualms about handing her over to

another man to marry. After all, it would probably be a relief to be rid of her. He would no longer have to

worry about the little girl with love-struck eyes following him around. A sharp ache pierced her heart as

she crossed her arms as if to hide the pain from him.

“What was I supposed to do, Angel?” He lifted both hands in defeat. “I owed the man my life. I

couldn’t argue with him about his own daughter.”

“But you had no qualms about planning my own father’s death without even warning me what was

to come.”

“He was to be tried fairly.”

“In a British court!” she shouted, pushing him with a hand to his chest. “And what, pray tell, do you

think the outcome of that trial would be, Blac?” A single digit pointed into his chest. “For someone so

brilliant, you certainly are stupid. What exactly do you think the punishment is for piracy?”She tapped his

chest with her finger once more. “That’s right, genius. It’s death.”

“Angel, you can’t deny that your father was a pirate.”

Her mouth snapped closed but she continued to glare at him. “Just because he owed no allegiance to

a King? That makes him an outlaw?”

“Yes. It does.”

She whipped around, giving him her back. The truth didn’t alleviate the sting, nor did it make it any

easier to swallow.

“Do not think for a single moment that you are the only one who misses him. Besides, I couldn’t talk

him out of it.” He clasped her hand and urged her to face him. “But I could make sure his last wishes were

heeded, and that included marrying you into a good family. I’m a man of my word, Angel.”

She stalked away from him. “What if I don’t want to marry?”

“All women want to marry.”

Angel picked up the book she’d been reading earlier off the table and hurled it at his thick head.

“You imbecile! I cannot believe you just said that.”She glanced around to throw something else at him but

he rushed to her, gripping both her arms.

“I will tolerate your temper only once, Angel. Once.”

“Do not dictate to me. You are not my father!”

He let go of her suddenly and she stumbled back. Rounding the corner of the desk, he opened the

drawer and pulled out a leaflet of papers.

“No?” He tossed them across the desk to her. “But I am your legal guardian. The moment the British

took your father prisoner, the order went into effect.”

Blac moved across the threshold and seized both of her arms before she could reply. He pulled her

so close she could feel the wisp of his breath fan across her forehead. He gave her a single, quick, soul-

shattering kiss. “Welcome to the family, Angel.”

Seven

Movement had long since died down on the deck, replaced by the velvet cloak of darkness. The

winds had ceased to mere breezes as stars dotted a cloudless sky. Exhausted, Blac gave the helm to Rigo

and headed for his quarters. Angel would be there, asleep. He’d grab a blanket and pass out on the floor.

She would never even know he’d been there.

The latch clicked softly as he opened the door and peered in. A single lamp was lit on its lowest

setting on the table. The remains of her half-eaten meal remained there.

A veritable goddess rose from the mass of coverlets in his bed. Wearing one of his white shirts

with the ties in the neck undone, exposing entirely too much flesh, she rose to her knees. “I had wondered

when you would come back.”

Her red-rimmed eyes pleaded with him. He couldn’t answer and just stared.

She scooted to the edge of the bed and swung those delicious, long, bare legs over the side. “Have

you eaten?” she asked, settling into a chair by the table. “I was hoping to dine with you tonight so that we

could talk.”

Speech eluded him.
What had she said?

“Blac? Are you all right?” Tucking both her legs against her chest, she wound her arms around

them. She’d been crying. After being dealt such a hard blow, Angel had cried, but she hadn’t broken. A

sense of pride wormed its way in. Her strength was one of the things about her that drew him to her.

“Blac.” She rose, as graceful as any woman he’d ever met. “I know you didn’t betray my father...

and I-I’m sorry.”

An aching need clawed its way into his gut and wouldn’t let go. “Don’t apologize to me, Angel. I’m

not so deserving.”

She stood before him now. “Maybe not, but I wanted to say it.” Her tiny hands lifted to tug at his

collar and straighten it. He reached for those hands and brought one to his lips. “I still think you should’ve

told me something, Blac. But I know how stubborn my father is. I know you feel obligated to him. So...I

just had to tell you that.”

She shrugged and the light flickered across the room, thrusting their mingled shadows on the walls.

Her eyes widened as his warm kiss touched her wrist. “Must we...talk?”

He shouldn’t stand so close to her. But he did.

Blue-green eyes caressed his face and he settled her hand against his chest. The heat of her palm

seared his skin. Her hand went on its own little foray into the unknown, and he watched her reaction

carefully. Her wide-eyed fascination and apparent curiosity indicated to him she was innocent.
Would he

be her first
?

Some primal pride leapt at the idea. And while his mind argued with his body, he simply had to

know exactly how much she knew.

Sweat beaded on his forehead from the heat trapped inside the cabin, or did it come from her?

His focus on her hand became the center of his world. Slipping inside the opened vee of his shirt, it

coasted across his collar bone and down over the slab of his muscled chest. Her gaze remained intent on

her exploration.

Down the hand moved, until she ran into the obstacle of his shirt and hesitated. One single pull

yanked his shirt from the band of his pants, and it left her an opening she didn’t refuse. Both of her hands

disappeared under the fabric and flattened against his stomach. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his

eyes.

Couldn’t he enjoy this for one second before propriety demanded he do the right thing and leave

her alone?

His body was taut and straining against protocol. He’d never fought so hard against something he

wanted so much.

The warmth of her palm sent chills across his flesh in a myriad of patterns.
Just once
. He swooped

down and captured her lips. Her arms glided around his neck, while her tiny hands found their way into

his hair. A sound of pleasure escaped her pretty mouth and he drank it in.

Her features relaxed in ecstasy and her head lolled back onto her shoulders. His gaze roved over

her.
Beautiful
. No artist could ever capture the essence of her sensuality within oils or paints. She was

simply the most irresistible woman he’d ever met. She opened to him so sweetly and what little resistance

remained, fled.

How could he fight this? Was he so weak?

His mouth seared a path down her neck. One of her legs wrapped around his and he lifted her,

cupping her buttocks. He moved them to the bed and collapsed atop her.

Damn her. Damn him.

And damn Logan.

Blood rushed through his veins, and all of his senses focused on her. He wanted to consume her.

His lips kissed along her collarbone to the soft flesh just beneath as he ravished what he laid bare. Heat

engulfed them both and wave after wave of desire assaulted him. Trembling beneath him, she moaned.

Lifting both of her legs against his hips, he ground his hardness against her soft flesh. He nipped, licked,

and tasted her skin. Unable to get enough of her, he growled his frustration.

The rhythm of the sea only intensified the strain of their bodies. It didn’t matter that she might still

hate him, it didn’t matter that she was his best friend’s daughter. None of that mattered as she arched her

beautiful body against him.

How could he crave something so much? If he didn’t drink of her soon, he would die of thirst. She

had become his sustenance. He would swallow her dry and still come back for more, until he could no

longer move his lips.

He moved back to her mouth to plunder more. “Blac,” she whispered against his mouth. “Teach

me...” She nibbled on his chin. “Teach me more. I want more.”

He leapt away from her. Filled with disgust, he peered down at his hands. What kind of man did

that make him? He was about to take away the only thing she truly had to give.

Sucking air into his lungs, he stilled.

Both of her legs remained opened, the shirt barely covering her. Ashen locks fanned out around her

shoulders and her eyelids lowered over murky, blue eyes. And she was the most compelling woman he’d

ever seen in his life.

Whipping around to face the other direction, unable to look at her, Blac caught his breath. What the

hell had he been doing? His erratic pulse beat a chaotic rhythm in his ears. Blood rushed through his veins

like a surging river. Seconds more and he would have been buried to the hilt inside her.

He’d practically reared Angel. He could still remember her as a young woman running across the

beaches, her hair fanning out behind her and her blue-green eyes twinkling with mischief as she followed

him.

Wiping a hand across his face, he shook his head. He needed to get out of here.

Blac started for the door, but she hopped to her knees, reaching out for him. She clasped his wrist.

“Don’t leave me, Blac.”

He hung his head. “I can’t stay, Angel. Please don’t ask me to.”

Her slender fingers caressed a path up his arm, sending chills across his flesh. He yanked from her.

“Why are you running? From this? From me?”

“The question is...” His gaze pinned her to the spot. “Why aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

Reaching up, he grasped her chin softly. “You tell me I betrayed you, you tell me you no longer trust

me, and yet—” he paused for effect— “you crave my touch.”

She stiffened.

“Do you really believe there is a happily-ever-after with me?” He let her go and quit the room,

afraid to hear the answer to that very question.

~*~

Angel stayed where she was for several minutes. Her heart still pounded against her chest and her

flesh still burned from the heat of his brand. Yet he expected her to be able think coherently.

She’d wanted to let him know she understood his side of the story, but what had started as a way to

open communication had quickly turned into something much deeper. Something much more thrilling.

Angel collapsed on the bed and chewed on her nail. How could he affect her body this way? Even

after his betrayal. Perhaps he hadn’t initiated this change in her life, and the fault for that lay solely on her

father’s shoulders. Perhaps he was honor-bound to her father, but didn’t she count too?

Surely he didn’t believe she would simply forgive and forget when her entire life had been

uprooted and torn down its center. Not only was she betrayed by the man she’d loved half her life, she’d

been betrayed by her own father.

And yet the moment he’d walked into the room, her every thought had centered on being in his arms.

Warmth spread through her as she remembered his kiss, his hands, and the feel of his body against her.

How easy it was to simply forget everything and submit to the cravings of her flesh.

She sighed.

He was right, her words and her actions contradicted themselves, but she would never admit it to

him. She couldn’t. Admitting it to herself had been difficult enough.

She rolled over on her side and tucked her knees up close to her chest. “Oh, Papa,” she whispered

in the silence. Tears burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “I miss you so much.”

The one person she could get comfort from had suddenly become forbidden to her. And that made

the loneliness and despair so much more difficult to withstand.

Anguish sprang free in a torrent of tears. She clamped both hands over her face as if that would hold

the emotion in, but it didn’t.

How could she continue to pretend she didn’t need Blac’s touch? How could she continue to

pretend she no longer loved everything about him? How could she continue to pretend that she was