She sashayed toward Blake, her gaze shifting between him and Emeline, before she halted and gave him a seductive smile. “Blake,mon cher, I have missed you,” she said in a sultry French accent. “You are looking more handsome than I remember.”
“What are you doing here, Jo?” Blake’s tone was one of disdain.
She cocked her head. “As I said,mon amour, I missed you.” Her gaze shifted to Emeline and the sparkle in her eyes from only moments before turned to dust. “MaisI see you have found another?” She scanned Emeline from head to toe. “Hmm. Rather plain for your tastes,non?”
Anger welled at the insult, angerandshame. Emeline took a step back.
The woman gave a disgusted snort. “Run along, little mouse, back to your hole.” She flicked jewel-adorned fingers at Emeline before looping her arm through Blake’s and dragging him away.
Mind spinning and emotions in a whirl, Emeline stared after them, expecting Blake to turn about, defend her honor, castigate the woman for her affronteries. Was it not just moments ago he dashed in like a hero to protect her?
Yet as the minutes sped by and Blake, with the woman on his arm, moved farther away, forgetting that Emeline existed, she realized she’d been a fool to ever think she mattered to him.
Grabbing her skirts, tears burning in her eyes, she dashed from the hall, more determined than ever to make her escape tonight.
Chapter 23
“Ishould lock you in irons,” Blake seethed. “How did you get past my defenses?” He allowed Jo to pull him aside, if only to get her away from Emeline. He’d learned from experience that the woman’s tongue was sharper and deadlier than any blade. Her disdain for all living creatures—save for herself—would no doubt inject poison into Emeline’s pure heart. And he could not allow that to happen.
“Why, Blake,chéri,put away this bad humor. I know you are happy to see me.”
Halting, Blake faced her. “Again, how are you here? How did you find my island?”
She leaned toward him, her familiar scent of rosewater invoking memories he’d long tried to forget. Memories of pleasures he’d not known existed, a love and bond he’d thought unbreakable, and an unbearable torment that had nearly destroyed him.
“All the brethren know about your island, Blake. You forget who taught you about defenses.” She smiled sweetly, seductively, and gave him a look that once had sent him to his knees, groveling for favors and willing to do anything she wanted.
Instead, her smile fell flat onto the floor beneath them.
Frustration brewed, and he turned, intending to escort Emeline back to her chamber to safety so he could deal with this vixen.
But the lady was gone. And all light and life abandoned the room with her.
Or perhaps ’twas Jo’s presence that leeched all joy and goodness away.
Even so, the banquet hall had grown unusually quiet as every eye remained upon them.
He gripped Jo’s arm. Tight. Happy when he saw her flinch, he dragged her from the room, out the open French doors, and onto the portico.
Releasing her to face him, he gripped the hilt of his cutlass. “How did you get onto my island undetected? Tell me now!” For he had every inch of coastline well-guarded.
With a snort, she flung her silky hair over her shoulders and gazed over the dark jungle. “There is but a sliver of a moon, and I rowed in a small skiff by myself.” She shrugged. “No doubt your men merely missed me.”
“Where isLa Sorcière?”
“Anchored not far off the southeast corner of your little paradise.” She gave a devious grin. “Never fear, my crew have orders to stand down.”
“Stand down? Pish, woman! My gunmen will sink her before she could fire a shot.” Something about her story bristled, for the lady had never been on good terms with the truth.
Crossing arms over his chest, he studied her. Even ten years older than he, she was still the comeliest woman he’d ever seen. Or was she? No doubt ’twas her exotic beauty that had first attracted him. That and her promise to teach him how to fight, captain a ship, become a formidable pirate. And, as she had so enticingly put it—transform the boy into a man. Yet as she stood smiling at him now, with starlight transforming her ebony hair into silver-kissed silk, her full lips, high cheek bones, and striking eyes, not to mention the crests of her bosoms peeking at him above her tight jerkin, he oddly found all desire he’d once felt for her melting into a forgotten puddle.
“Why are you here?” he demanded, keeping his harsh tone.
“I told you.” She pouted and gave him sad eyes. “I missed you. I wanted to apologize—”
“For leaving me stranded on that spit of land? Without a morsel of food or drop of water?”
Shrugging, she waved her jeweled hand through the air. “I knew you would survive.”
