“Chrissy, darlin’, you alreadyhavea family,” he assured her. “Myfamily. They’re goin’ to love you. And they’re goin’ to love the family you and I build together. You’re goin’ to have so much family you might wish you had less.”
“You promise?” Her lips trembled.
“Yes.” He grabbed her hands and squeezed his pledge into her fingers. “I promise. And just so you know, if we ever find the treasure—”
“Whenyou find the treasure,” she insisted.
“Okay,whenwe find the treasure, I’ve got obligations back home. I want to use some of the money for my nieces and nephews and—”
“You can useallthe money.” She shook her head at him. “I don’t give a shit about it. All I want is you.”
Just when he thought he couldn’t love her more, she said that and he did.
He had to work to paste on a stern expression. “Well, darlin’, you got me. But before we walk down that aisle, I need to hear it.”
Her eyebrows puckered. “Hear what?”
He cocked his head and pursed his mouth.
“You need to hear me say I love you again?” she asked, and he snorted.
“You can’t say itagain,darlin’. You never said it the first time.”
“I didn’t?” She looked genuinely perplexed when he shook his head. Then her expression softened and she took a deep breath. “Okay then. Here goes. Wolf?” He nodded. “I have categorically, conclusively, unconditionally fallen head over heels in love with you.”
Damnit! Nowhewas the one on the verge of tears. To hide the moistness in his eyes, he pulled her in for another kiss. But it ended up in a desperate hug as each of them clung to the other, their hearts full and beating together in a rhythm he knew would last a lifetime.
“And you’re in for it, buster.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Because I hold on like hell to what I’ve got.”
He grinned as Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer”played in his head. He hummed a little of it and then sang, “It doesn’t make a difference if we’re naked or not. We’ve got each—”
She pulled back and bit the inside of her cheek.
He groaned. “Oh, hell. What did I get wrong this time?”
“It doesn’t make a difference if wemake itor not,” she said and then burst out laughing. “At least your misheard lyric wasn’t about food this time!” She hiccupped, wiping away happy tears.
He grinned and touched the corner of one glittering blue eye. “Has anyone ever told you that you absolutelysparklewhen you laugh?”
Her humor dried up and her expression grew serious. “On her deathbed, my mother told me to find a man who makes me laugh and shine. To steal a phrase from your previous profession: mission accomplished.”
Epilogue
June 27th, 1624…
“Please,Capitán,” Alvaro, a young helmsman, pleaded. “’Tis a perfect night to be at sea. Let us unfurl the sails and make for Havana.”
Even in the dimness of the moonless night, Captain Bartolome Vargas registered the beseeching look on Alvaro’s face.
He and his men had won the battle at the campsite. But not before losing ten more of their brethren. Another dozen of theSanta Cristina’screw were variously injured and being seen to by the ship’s surgeon. Those few who had managed to come out of the fight unscathed were gathered around Bartolome on the French ketch and wearing looks that closely mirrored Alvaro’s.
This ship was a chance at salvation. A chance to reach home port and fill their bellies with good food and good drink.
But ’twas a slim chance, indeed.
Too slim.
“You heard the Frenchcapitán.” Bartolome kept a wide stance on the deck of the ketch as the ocean breeze rocked the ship. Oh, how he had missed the feel of a vessel moving beneath his feet. He had been a sea captain for so long that solid ground seemed foreign and wrong.
