She faced the sea.“But we do, Caleb.I know you blame me for what happened here.”
She said the words so casually, as if she spoke of an afternoon tea.
“Thunder and Flame!”He balled his hands into fists.“What happened here was the painful deaths of many innocent people, my friends, those put under my protection.”
“Caleb.”She laid a gentle hand on his sleeve.
He jerked from her touch, nausea rising in his belly.
“I was horrified at what happened.You must believe me.”A breeze danced through the loose curls at her neck, showering him with her perfume—jasmine and orange, laced with ambergris—invoking memories, ghosts of days past.
Happy memories of morning strolls along the beach, the laughter they shared beneath the palms, her hand stealing into his, the warmth of her lips upon his cheek, and the hours they worked side by side to feed, clothe, and teach the escaped slaves.Memories that clawed his soul even now.Why had he not seen the snake that lurked behind the seductress?
He should have, for he had God’s Spirit within him.But had he been listening to that still small voice?Or was he overwhelmed with her beauty, attention, and flattery, all things which fed his ego?Either way, he only had himself to blame.
And the lady standing beside him.
“It is good to see you, Caleb.I’ve missed you.”Her tone was a soft purr, almost believable.
And it was all Caleb could do to not slap the smile from her face.But he’d never struck a lady, and he wouldn’t start now.
He took a step away from her, blood surging to his fists.“Missed me?You almost got me killed!”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You knew.”His tone cracked like a whip.“You knew the militia was coming that night.”
She flinched but did not shrink away.
He faced her.“Tell me the truth.For once.”
Her eyes searched his, sorrow and yet something untrustworthy traveled across them.“Oui…I knew,” she confessed, voice trembling.“But not until it was too late,mon coeur.I tried, I swear, I tried to find you.”
Anger surged through his veins, hot and unrelenting.He tore his gaze away.“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you wish, but why would I put you in harm’s way?Je t’aimais, mon amour.I loved you with all that I am.I still do.Do not doubt it.”
There it was.The words he’d once longed to hear from her lips.Now, they fell like ashes to the sand.
“Tell me,” Caleb demanded, “How much did your father know?Did he orchestrate it?Or was he merely a participant?”
Her lashes fluttered as she shook her head, tears spilling, hesitating.Finally, she said, “Je ne sais pas.I do not know.Perhaps he did.He spoke in whispers with the men but told me nothing.And I—” Her breath hitched.“J’étais lâche.I was a coward.”She stepped closer, eyes luminous, desperate.
“Forgive me,cher Caleb.”Her voice trembled like the surf.“I long to return to that night, save them…and you.”She leaned toward him, her perfume curling about him.
He should leave, walk away, abandon her as she had him.Instead, her lips found his, warm, trembling, a kiss borne of regret and longing.
And yet, he felt nothing.Nothing but pity and anger.Her touch was empty, lifeless, like the doldrums at sea.But Desi’s kiss…her kiss had been powerful, wild, transcendent, filled with light and love.Andflame.
Geneviève drew back, searching his eyes, perhaps seeking a spark of passion, of love.
Instead, he faced the sea, watching each wave lay arcs of foam upon the sand.And he realized, Geneviève was that foam, her shimmering beauty, devoid of depth and substance, dissipated as quickly as it had come.
But Desi… Desi was the ocean—deep, mysterious, wild, and full of treasures he’d yet to discover.
♥
Ayida crouched among barrels and crates below decks, listening for intruders.All she heard was the gentle lap of water against the hull, the yammer of the crew above her, and the pitter-pat of vermin.She drew a deep breath and regretted it.The air, thick with moisture and reeking of tar and bilge water, shoved into her lungs and pressed heavy upon her.
