Nicole Jordan (44 page)

When Thorne answered her knock on his cabin door, he showed no surprise to see her standing there. Silently he moved aside to let her enter, and then shut the door softly behind her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Diana whispered.

“Nor could I.”

He was still fully clothed and had been reading, she realized. A lamp next to the bunk cast a warm glow over the small cabin and showed the bedcovers were still drawn up.

He didn’t question her explanation but merely drew her into his arms for a devastating kiss, instantly stirring the fires of arousal to life.

Still wordlessly, he undressed her and shed his own clothing before joining her on the narrow bunk. As their naked flesh met, a fierce heat and desperate longing to cherish him spread throughout Diana’s body. Her limbs clinging, she took him inside her, straining to become even closer.

Thorne fed her fire with the flames of his own desire, and passion converged into burning enchantment. Soon the ecstasy became more than she could bear, and she climaxed with a wild, sobbing cry.

When she shattered, Thorne felt each tremor burn through him with an exquisite torture. Heart racing, blood pounding, he thrust more urgently, delving into her body, trying to satisfy the hunger that went so deep, he didn’t think it would ever be satisfied.

How will I ever get enough of you?
The question thundered in his mind as rapture screamed through his body.

When finally she lay quietly in his arms, their limbs entangled, his hands stroking down her silken back, he pondered the answer.

The simple truth was that he could never get enough of Diana.

When she’d broken off their betrothal early in their voyage, he had panicked for a brief moment. But then he’d forcibly recovered, reminding himself that her withdrawal was only a temporary setback. He’d pretended to accept her rationale, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he would let Diana go. He would fight tooth and claw to claim her for his own.

Nothing would stop him. In the end, he would have her for his wife. And he would win her love, just as she had won his….

Thorne’s breath caught abruptly as he acknowledged the profound feeling wrenching at his chest.
Love.
It was the only possible word to describe the fierce, overwhelming tenderness that had wrapped around his heart. The powerful, stunning emotion he hadn’t even known he possessed.

Without a doubt, he loved Diana.

He lay there stunned, holding her and marveling at the realization.

How had it happened? When he’d proposed their sham betrothal, he’d had his course all planned out. Their pretense would shelter him from his father’s machinations and the unwanted attentions of countless scheming mamas and their nubile daughters.

He’d never once expected to be ensnared by love.

Yet it had been a serious mistake to think he could be intimate with Diana and remain immune to her. He should have known from the very first. What happened each time he touched her was beyond his experience, and beyond his ability to prevent.

Against all odds, he’d lost his heart to her. Because of Diana herself.

He’d been waiting his whole life for her, although he hadn’t realized it. His burning need for her had always been about so much more than physical passion. She had taken hold of him in a way that was far beyond desire, in a way he could no longer control.

She satisfied his soul-deep hunger. She filled the emptiness inside him and made him feel whole.

He wanted Diana in his life—needed her in his life—forever. And he was willing to do whatever it took to make her feel the same way. He would be truly terrified if he thought she could never love him in return, but he wouldn’t allow it—

The tension in his body must have communicated itself to her, for just then he felt her shudder. Turning her head slightly, Diana buried her face against the bare skin of his chest.

The tender, anxious gesture tightened his chest even more, yet Thorne took a steadying breath, willing himself to be calm. “What’s wrong, love?”

Her quiet admission was a long time in coming. “I am afraid of what could happen tomorrow, Thorne. I’m afraid for
you.
”

“Why would you be afraid for me?”

Pushing herself up on one elbow, Diana gazed down at him, her expression grave and troubled. “If we do catch Thomas Forrester, what then? He wants you dead.”

Thorne’s lips curved. “Well, he isn’t going to get his wish, I assure you.”

“Even so…it frightens me to think of the danger you might face. I know you are fearless, but please, Thorne, will you promise to be careful? I don’t want you to risk being killed like Nathaniel was.”

Reaching up, he brushed a dark tendril back from her forehead. “Danger is an inherent part of my job, love. It can’t be avoided. But I promise I won’t take any unnecessary risks. Trust me, I’m not eager for an untimely demise. Never more so than now. I want to live to a ripe old age.”

It was true, Thorne thought, more than a little amazed. In the past he had never shied away from physical risk; indeed, he’d actually
sought
it. He never felt more alive than when he was challenging fate and facing perils that would make normal men quake.

Yet for the first time he could remember, he no longer wanted to court danger simply for the thrill of it. Life had suddenly become quite precious to him. Possibly because he now had something else to live for besides the satisfaction of triumphing over evil: Diana.

He had every intention of staying alive. Not only didn’t he want to die, but he’d sworn he would never betray her. If he allowed himself to be killed, it would be much the same as jilting her. He would leave Diana alone and forsaken, and that would be unforgivable.

Slipping a hand behind the rich curtain of her hair, Thorne drew her face down to his and pressed a tender kiss against her lips. “You are not about to lose me,” he vowed solemnly.

Yet when he wrapped his arms about her tightly, he felt Diana shudder again and knew he hadn’t totally reassured her.

Diana returned to her own cabin just after midnight, somewhat calmer, but she was up early the next morning, anxious to discover the results of their chase. When she went up on deck, Thorne was already there at the prow, holding a spyglass to his eye, watching the brigantine ahead.

During the night they had closed the distance between the two ships, and Diana could clearly see the outline of the brigantine’s three masts. An hour later she could even make out figures of the crew scurrying over the decks and in the rigging. The brigantine apparently had raised every square yard of sail to achieve maximum speed.

The schooner’s captain had done the same, and they were gaining slowly but surely. Yet Thorne still doubted they would catch their quarry before it made harbor—a pronouncement that brought Diana’s trepidation rushing back full measure.

An hour after that, the Isle of Cyrene was sighted. From a distance, Diana could see the silhouette of Cyrene’s two forested mountain peaks to the north, dominating the rugged, picturesque coastline.

The island still possessed an unmistakable enchantment, shimmering in the golden Mediterranean sun, surrounded by the jeweled colors of a dazzling sea—sapphire and turquoise and aquamarine. Yet every inch was protected by natural or man-made defenses: jagged, soaring cliffs, rocky reefs, numerous fortresses and watchtowers, all significant deterrents to invasion.

By the time they neared the island’s southern point, Yates had joined them, as had Amy, her face grave. Amy had been told the basic situation—that Thomas Forrester and his sister Venus were set on harming Sir Gawain—and she seemed as anxious as Diana to arrive.

“Sir Gawain lives there,” Yates said, pointing to the massive castle stronghold on the bluffs to their left. “Olwen Castle has been in his family for centuries.”

“Will he know we are coming?” Diana asked quietly.

Thorne answered her question. “There will be lookouts posted in several towers around the island, watching for arriving ships. But the brigantine is flying a British flag, so they won’t expect treachery from that quarter. Sir Gawain won’t know to beware of Forrester. We’re sending a message by heliostat as we speak—that’s an instrument using sunlight and mirrors to flash a code—but it’s possible the sentry at Olwen Castle may not see it.”

“We won’t make it in time, will we?” Amy observed in a small voice.

Thorne replied grimly. “No. We’re at least a half hour behind.”

The brigantine was no longer in sight, Diana saw with a sinking heart. It had already rounded the southernmost tip.

“What is our plan, my lord?” Yates asked calmly, exhibiting every faith in Thorne’s leadership.

“I’ll pursue Forrester as soon as we arrive,” Thorne answered, “and try to catch him before he reaches the castle.”

“We may still have a chance,” Yates declared. “Surely Forrester isn’t familiar with the island. He will need time to arrange for transportation—a ferry from the ship to the docks and horses to take them into the interior. And he will have to inquire about the location of Sir Gawain’s castle and then gain entrance.”

Thorne shook his head. “The brigantine’s captain or crew may have been to Cyrene before. And we must assume Forrester came prepared. Remember, he’s had more than a year to plan his assault. He likely has maps and details about his destination. As for gaining entrance, couriers arrive regularly to bring Sir Gawain information. If I were Forrester, I would simply claim I’m on an urgent mission for Sir Gawain.”

Yates frowned in comprehension. “And Forrester is aware of the need for speed. He knows we are directly behind him.”

“Precisely. It would be miraculous if we found him still onboard the brigantine. But we’ll know more once we reach the harbor. I want to wait until then before deciding our exact plan.”

Diana’s tension returned at his pronouncement, and only escalated as they rounded the island and approached the seaport, which was also well defended. Here, the brilliant blue waters gave way to shallower green flecked with white, indicating more treacherous reefs.

To access the small harbor, the schooner had to navigate a narrow strait formed by two jutting rock promontories, while overhead guarding the entrance stood a massive fortress fortified with cannon.

It was not all ruggedness, however. The bustling town perched precariously on the hillside held an enchanting charm characteristic of the Mediterranean, its whitewashed houses colorfully accented by splashes of blue trim and roofs of red tile, shaded by tall palms and draped with bougainvillea. A steep cobblestone lane zigzagged down the hill face to the water, where gulls and terns swooped among the bare masts of countless fishing vessels moored at the docks.

The much larger brigantine was lying at anchor some distance from shore, Diana could see as they sailed into the harbor. But Thorne’s attention was riveted on the quay.

He brought the spyglass to his eye for a moment, then silently handed the instrument to Yates.

“I see a party of men climbing the hill,” Yates murmured. “Most likely Forrester and some of his crew.”

Following his gaze, Diana could make out at least a dozen figures scurrying up the steep lane, toward the gleaming white walls of the town.

“I don’t see any women,” Yates added thoughtfully.

“Venus may have remained on the brigantine,” Thorne replied. “You’ll need to board and check while I follow Forrester.”

“As you wish,” the younger man said, before casting a swift glance at his pretty new wife. “What of Amy and Diana?”

Thorne answered without hesitation. “They will stay here where it’s safe.”

Just then the schooner’s captain barked out orders for the crew to begin lowering sails. Diana waited till the shouts had died down before placing a hand on Thorne’s arm. “I would like to go with John. If Venus is there, I may be able to persuade her to confide in me, once she knows the game is up.”

Thorne’s gaze flickered over Diana, and she could see him mentally debating.

“Please,” she implored. “I want to help.”

“Very well,” Thorne agreed. “Yates, you’ll take Diana and suitable reinforcements. And you’ll go armed to the teeth. I expect you to keep her safe.”

“Certainly, my lord. And if we find Madam Venus onboard?”

“You’ll arrest her and the captain, as well. I don’t want that ship trying to escape,” Thorne said as their own ship began slowing. “Once you deal with them, you can follow me. Meanwhile I’ll take some men and find Verra so he can accompany me to the castle. And we’ll raise an alarm and send for reinforcements to meet us there.”

Diana bit her lower lip. She would rather Yates go with Thorne than her, to keep
him
safe. But with only one leg, the younger man might be more of an impediment than an asset. And the need for haste was imperative. Forrester’s party—if it was Forrester—had already disappeared over the crest of the hill.

“What about me?” Amy interrupted. “May I help?”

Thorne grinned at her. “I applaud your courage, bratling, but you’ll stay right here and behave yourself. I don’t want to have to worry about you, too.”

A mulish expression on her face, Amy started to bristle, but her husband gave her a soft smile, and immediately the girl melted.

“Very well, Thorne, I will follow your orders. And I promise to behave.”

Yates offered Amy his hand. “Come, my dear, quickly. I will help you get settled, and then I must make preparations.”

When he had led her away, Diana turned to Thorne. “Who is Verra?”

“Santos Verra? He’s a Spaniard, a former smuggler who owns a tavern in town.”

“Is he one of your colleagues?”

Thorne’s expression softened. “Yes. And I would trust him with my life. In fact I have, many times.”

Feeling her fear for Thorne welling anew, Diana wanted to plead again with him to be careful. Yet she quelled the urge, knowing he didn’t need the distraction.

He apparently saw the struggle on her face, though, for he brought her hand to his lips for a lingering kiss. “If you will try not to worry for me, I’ll try to do the same for you. I’m allowing you to go with Yates because I understand your need to be involved, and because I think you could truly help. But every protective instinct I own is screaming in protest. Venus could be highly dangerous.”