Except for his parents and close friends, hefelt the whole world was against him. How the words of one sweet,beautiful woman exonerated him from wrongdoing and humbled him withher compassion.
He jumped out of his hammock and hauled herup toe to toe with him. She gasped. Her hair was drawn back in thatabominable braid, and her chin was both determined and inviting. Heput his left hand under it and slowly brought it up to his. Therewas enough moonlight for him to see her eyes, and he was captivatedby their calm assurance, so that for some moments, they studiedeach other. And wasn’t his heart falling in love with Alexandra alittle more day by day, taking him with it?
He couldn’t stop it.
His mouth came down on hers. He was hurtingwith wanting her; fueled with anger toward a world where hestruggled for vengeance and survival…and for desiring her. Then hissenses fled him, but inside he knew he couldn’t…wouldn’t…do anymore than kiss her.
He brought his own experience to bear,coaxing, gently persuading, enticing her lips to open, and whenthey did, he swooped in and claimed her sweetness. Her stiffnessrelaxed, and she melted into him, holding on to him for support,her soft full breasts flattened against his chest. Nicholas tookfull control, reaching down and pulling her tight against him,thrusting his tongue deeper, to wield her passion. He breathed her,tasted the sweet mango in her mouth and savored her. His mouthgentle at first became brutal on hers, twisting, bruising, rousing,his tongue thrusting through her like a brand, searing her, havingher.
Oh, how Nicholas towered over her, hisfingers cupping in the back of her head and his other hand haulingher bottom to him so she couldn’t move. He gripped her hair in asavage grasp so she couldn’t avoid the ravenous onslaught of hismouth. She melted against him, her body wanton and willing.
Alexandra drowned in his scent, the taste ofrum mixed with wine, and the heady strength of his body emphasizedher vulnerability to him. Breathing was near impossible and shefelt she would expire from suffocation. Her hands were splayedacross his chest, firm healthy male flesh tingled beneath herfingertips. Her dreams had stoked desire and now, to touch himeverywhere, to explore every part of him… She brushed her fingersover muscle, heat, moisture then slid her arms around his neck,sighing.
She lifted her hands to his hair, runningher fingers between the silky strands as she held him close…andfirm, terrified he’d move his mouth from hers if she released herhold.
He outlined the tips of her breasts with hisfingers and her nipples grew taut. His other hand splayed acrossthe small of her back and Alexandra gasped, felt his hardnessthrough their clothes. He cupped her breast in his hand and kissedher eyes, nose, and the hollows of her neck and down…
How could such kisses tighten the muscles inher stomach, weaken her limbs and flood a warmth between herthighs? The world grew vague, unaffected by any color, yet spinningall her senses into a pool of pleasure. Like quicksilver, lustraced through her veins and a wealth of feelings leaped from her,blossoming, exploding.
A sound struggled to escape her, a releaseof emotion such as she’d never imagined.
He drew away from her, his chest heaving.The gap between them gave way to a chill. Alexandra managed to gulpin sweet air, her heart hammering in her chest, his head restedagainst hers. She was glad he had stopped and pushed away from him.He took a step toward her and she turned, unable to talk anymoreshe ran into the cottage, her secret, silent and stony locked in acheerless place, wearying her of its tyranny and forbidding anyrelationship.
ChapterTwelve
Alexandra wove palm fronds into a hat,thinking about Nicholas’s confession. Nicholas was a proud man.Despite the murder publicized in all the papers, and at risk to herscorn, he had humbled himself to her. He had been released from thetragedy that surrounded his life.
To admit her own secret, to say the shame ofnot being able to bear children aloud was like saying she wasn’t awoman.
She wanted Nicholas. How she dared to dream.Yet the vagaries of life were as wide as they were severe, leavingher with no choices. Like continents they were, undiscovered, andsitting apart, with oceans of uncertainty between them.
His kiss was the kiss to end all kisses, butnever could she cross that line again. Yet how could she stop fromfalling desperately in love with him?
He had fired a latent primitive force insideher, making her yearn for what was forbidden. Her longings were ayoung girl’s fantasies, a fool’s dream, causing a chokingbitterness to rise, for the very thing she wanted the most andcould not haveNicholas. He need only to look at herreally look ather, to let his eyes fall on hers, deeply blue and penetrating, tosee her soul laid bare.
The wind blew, flipping the pages of thediary, touting the unfortunate lives of Captain Sharp and LadyJane. Alexandra’s heart ached for the sea captain and his lover,their bond wider than the plains of England. If they were ever toget off this island, she’d give the diary to Lady Jane.
Her hands worked quickly weaving the fronds,in and out, up and down, over and back. Parrots chattered in thetreetops and she lifted her head. Two of them perched side by side,one leaning into the other for support, their bright colorsgleaming in the sun. She smoothed a hand over her weaving andsighed. How their lives were entwined, she and Nicholas so likeCaptain Sharp and Lady Jane, a mirror image of their owndifficulties.
She dropped the hat and picked up thejournal, loosened the straps that bound it together and flippedopen the corroded metal latch. A tightness in her chest held herrigid, held her in suspense. The book spine was worn from thebinder. She held it up to the sun and a sliver of light protruded.A paper was stuffed in the tiny space. With care, she grasped theend of a parchment and pulled.
Her mouth went dry. A treasure map? HadCaptain Sharp hid a map in the spine? With trembling fingers, sheunfolded the paper.
“If anyone should read this diary, pleasegive it to Lady Jane Dabney of London, England and tell her that Iwill always Treasure her in these terms,Lovely,Only,Valuable andEnthralling andthat all the riches of my heart I hold for her, are on thisisland.”
How strange. No map and the sentence was notlike the prose written on the former pages. Disjointed. She had tofind Nicholas.
Prohibited to see what he was working on,she strode through the gardens to the tree line. His dark head wasbent over an odd bamboo contraption, his calloused hands, fittingand gluing segments together.
When her shadow crossed his, he looked upand beamed. “You were not supposed to come until I called you, butsince you ae here, what do you think?”
“What is it?”
Before she could protest, he grabbed thebook from her hand and placed it on a stump. “Come,” he ordered,impulsively grabbing her hand. They ran along the path, following aline of bamboo. She was breathless when he stopped at theriver.
“Let me demonstrate.” He tilted a bamboosegment to catch the descending waters. Water gurgled and gusheddown the bamboo pipes. He grabbed her hand again, racing with theflow, and ending up where they had started, a clear stream of waterpouring from the end piece.
Her laughter bubbled over and she clappedher hands. “You are absolutely wonderful.”
