He narrowed his eyes, limiting his gaze to her face. “Did you seduce my guard?”
She fingered a strand of her silky black hair. “Did you truly believe one little guard could keep me from you?” Her smile was bawdy, predatory.
Snorting, he looked away, searching for his rum. Indeed, he should have known. “Go back to your chamber, Jo.”
She inched toward him and slithered a finger down his arm. “The desire in your eyes defies your words.”
Jerking from her touch, he found his rum and poured a glass. Was the vixen right? Did he still desire her, even after her betrayal? Nay, even though much time had passed since he’d enjoyed female company, even though a most alluring one stood before him, even though admittedly, his body reacted slightly to her touch, he found that his heart, his soul felt naught but repulsion.
He faced her. “You no longer captivate me, Josephine. Return to your chamber, or I’ll have you locked in the guardhouse.”
Frowning, she fluttered her long lashes like she used to when she wanted something from him. “Very well, Blake. I’m not one to beg. However, let us have one last drink together.” She nodded toward an empty glass beside his full one. “For the times we once shared?”
Suspicion etched down his spine. Still, what harm would it do? A quick drink and she’d be gone and then he could open the door to Emeline’s chamber.Emeline. Even with this half-naked woman standing beside him, ’twas Emeline who invaded his thoughts.
Only one sip remained in the bottle. He moved to the sideboard and grabbed another. Yet when he turned around, he thought he saw Jo slip something into the pocket of her nightdress. No matter. There was nothing of value here to steal.
b
Emeline leaned her ear against the door, clearly hearing Josephine’s accent. Heart folding in on itself, she backed into the darkness. What did she expect? Blake was a pirate with the morals of a goat and Josephine was the most beautiful woman Emeline had ever seen. Besides, ’twas obvious from their encounter earlier that she and Blake knew one another—had no doubt been intimate in the past.
Ignoring the twinge of jealousy, Emeline moved to the window where a night breeze swept in, cooling her skin and sifting through her hair. It did naught to assuage the fear, heartache, and anger bubbling in a tumultuous brew in her belly. In the distance, dark clouds gobbled up the moon, casting gloomy shadows over the land—just like her fading dreams for a true gentleman, a hero to sweep her off her feet.
Every time she thought there was hope for Blake to become that honorable man, he shifted back into his old ways. When would she learn? Hadn’t her father always told her she was far too naïve, too trusting, and always kept her head in the clouds?
She must take this opportunity to leave. Blake would be occupied for quite some time, and the rest of the house was fast asleep.
Turning, she gathered the money and gun from the drawer, stuffed them in a small sack she’d found, and started for her door. She’d already mapped the best way out of the house unnoticed and the most unguarded way through the jungle to the fishing boat.
She reached for the door handle when a crash sounded from Blake’s chamber and a chilled mist enveloped her. Halting, she shivered, staring at Blake’s door. Why had the air suddenly grown so cold on such a balmy night? Not only cold, but a heaviness fell upon her, a malevolence that nearly shoved her to the floor.
Breath heaving, she flung a hand to her throat and crept toward Blake’s chamber door, listening for voices or movement from within.
Pray.
The unspoken voice blared within her. A command, an urging she could not deny.
Pray.
A dark mist slithered underneath the door into her chamber, snaking around her shoes, winding up her legs. Air seized in her throat. When she glanced down, it was gone. Yet the icy cold remained. And she had no doubt. Evil was present on the other side of this door.
Pray.
Emeline obeyed. Taking a step back, she closed her eyes and appealed to Almighty God for His protection over Blake, over her, and for victory over the evil presence.
Chapter 24
J
osephine took both glasses and handed the one with the potion to Blake. With an impatient huff that more than annoyed her, he took it and lifted it in the air. “For old times’ sake.”
She put on her most charming smile. “Those were good times,non?” Sipping her drink, she stared at him over the edge of the glass.
He didn’t answer, merely tossed the rum into his mouth and slammed down his glass as was his way when it came to drink. Now all she had to do was wait for him to collapse to the floor, and she would slip the Ring from his finger. Easy.
A slight creak, barely discernible, drifted from the chamber beside Blake’s. Odd. Who would be up at this hour? Even more odd, who would be housed right beside their captain? No doubt it was that frightfully drab girl he’d been fawning over when Josephine had first arrived. The mere sight of them together still heaved bile into her throat. But what did it matter? Upon spotting Josephine, he had quickly discarded the little mouse.
“Now leave.” Blake’s tone was angry, hostile even, as he gestured for the door.
