Too Great a Temptation (15 page)

Down in the lower levels, she guided Damian toward the brig.

He quirked a sable brow at the sight of the iron bars. “In there?”

“Why not? No one comes down here.” Then she gave him a seductive smile. “It’s private.”

Thick arms circled her waist. “You have very unusual taste.”

She snorted. “After what you did to me last night on the table, you call my taste un—”

Mentioning last night got her kissed—and him aroused. Damian was already backing her into the brig, and she had to reach over his shoulder to quickly confiscate the keys dangling from a little hook on the wall.

Once inside, she let his lips roam over her a little longer, lulling his senses—and her own, apparently, for she had to force herself to remember the task at hand.

She broke away from the kiss and pushed Damian up against the wall. “Don’t move,” she said in a smoky whisper, and started to back away from him, undoing the laces of her black leather vest. “Just watch.”

He did, eyes burning, following her every move. Mirabelle kept his gaze occupied long enough to back out of the brig. Once beyond the threshold, she slammed the door shut and quickly locked it.

Damian looked at her, bowled over. “What are you doing?” There was no anger in his voice. He sounded puzzled, really, like this was all part of a game and he had forgotten the rules.

“I’m sorry, Damian.” She moved away from the bars. “Captain’s order.”

His brow furrowed even more. “Why?”

“Well, we have a bit of trouble topside and the captain wants you out of the way.”

His expression slowly hardened. “What trouble?”

“I’m not sure yet. This is just a precaution, Damian. The captain thinks you’re still not feeling well. He doesn’t want you topside in case we have to…man the cannons.”

He was glowering now and took an ominous step forward. “Man the cannons?”

She nodded. “It seems we’re being followed.”

His hands gripped the iron bars. “By a pirate ship?”

“The captain isn’t certain. But we might have to defend ourselves, and the captain needs all able hands to man the cannons. He didn’t think you’d listen to an order to keep out of the battle, and since he can’t be sure you won’t get dizzy and—”

“Belle!” It sounded more like a bark, his tone. She had certainly never seen him so livid. “Unlock the door. Now!”

“I can’t, Damian.”

“Belle, you don’t understand. I
have
to be there. Now let me out.”

“Captain’s or—”

“Confound the captain!” He rattled the bars. “Now open the bloody door!”

She shook her head, guilt and regret and all sorts of other unpleasant emotions swirling in her belly. “I’m sorry, Damian. I won’t disobey an order.”

He was glaring at her, his chest heaving, a whole slew of emotions bubbling in his eyes. Emotions she had never seen before…dark emotions.

“You tricked me,” he said in a low and unsettling voice, the thought evidently having just occurred to him.

“I had to.” She stuffed the keys into her pocket. “Trust me, Damian. It’s for the best.”

“Belle!”

But she was already heading down the corridor and making her way topside again.

It felt like a cannonball to her gut, the burden of emotions. So cumbersome. So lousy. She
really
hated having lied to him. The look of hurt in his eyes had been a blow she was unprepared to confront.

She didn’t think it could wound so greatly, breaking a trust. A tentative trust, but still, the expression of disbelief in his eyes—before the fury had set in—told her plain enough he had never expected her to do such a thing.

But it was for his own well-being, she tried to console herself. Damian could
not
know their true identity. Not yet anyway. It might put his life at risk, especially if he refused to join the pirate crew and keep their secret. And until the captain was certain of his loyalty, it was prudent to keep Damian in the dark about their piracy.

Despite all that sound reasoning, she still felt miserable. But her morose mood didn’t linger too long. The muffled blast of cannon fire, aimed somewhere off the rig’s stern, snapped her from her pensiveness and sent her sprinting.

Topside, the commotion was under way.

James was strutting across the deck, shouting orders. The other ship was attacking astern, trying to avoid a broadside, aiming for the
Bonny Meg
’s rudder.

It looked like the Jolly Roger hadn’t inspired the fear the captain had hoped for.

James was hollering for the helmsman to bring the ship about. The
Bonny Meg
was returning fire, but placed in such a precarious position, it was difficult to aim for the other ship, and most of the cannonballs landed well off their mark.

It looked like a bloody mess, the deck. But everything was in order. Every hollering pirate, every musket firing was designed to distract and intimidate the other vessel’s crew.

It was also deafening, the thunder of cannon blasts. Potent, too, as the sting of sulfur invaded her nostrils. Mirabelle choked back on the smoke and fumes. Her ears were ringing. This really was more vivid than she had ever imagined it would be.

“Get off the deck!” James shouted at her.

She ducked as a bullet hit the mast behind her, the wood splintering. Mirabelle did as she was told and got out of the way, but below deck, she was arrested by a tar, who stuffed a powder chest into her arms.

“Fill it with gunpowder!” the pirate ordered. “Get it to the gunners!”

Mirabelle didn’t hesitate. She had been asked to help. This was her one chance to redeem herself, she suddenly realized, in the eyes of the crew. Show them she could be of use. That she wasn’t a bad omen or a slouch or any other such rot. That she could work with them and help them. And if her brothers and the crew could just come to accept that, then maybe her seafaring dream wasn’t dashed after all.

A quick powder monkey, Mirabelle clambered down to the ship’s belly where the gunpowder was stored. There were other men already there, each in turn filling their chests and rushing back to the gun deck.

Mirabelle entered the room, lined with copper sheeting to prevent the powder from igniting accidentally. She swiftly filled her chest and secured the lid. Out the door and scrambling back to the gun deck, she headed for the pirate closest to her, who was hollering for more powder.

The man gave her a brief look, as though wondering what she was doing there. But then the blast of a cannonball, tearing through the ship’s hull, sending shards of wood flying, snapped him from his reverie.

He grabbed the chest from her and emptied it into the cannon. “More!”

When the chest was shoved back into her midriff, Mirabelle grinned. The crew might just come around and accept her, after all.

D
amian slammed his boot into the iron bars.

Blast it! The cage was secure. With a growled oath, he swung around and prowled the narrow width of the cell.

He couldn’t believe Belle had done this to him. That she had lured him into the brig. And why? Because the captain thought he might get dizzy and faint? Horseshit! He was fine. He should be out there right now, aiming a cannon at that bloody pirate ship.

A fist went into the wall and he let out a frustrated roar. To have traveled so far and so long, and then to fail at the end of his journey was unbearable. He had vowed to sink the pirate ship responsible for his brother’s death. And there she was, just off the stern, blasting her guns in a frenzy.

Was this what it had been like for Adam and Tess? A hail of deafening cannon fire before the ship slipped under the waves, the couple’s screams forever silenced?

Damian smashed his heel into the bars again. The door would not budge, but he needed something to vent his fury on.

A thought struck him then. A hopeful thought. Perhaps this wasn’t the pirate ship that had attacked his brother. Perhaps it was another pirate vessel and he hadn’t lost the chance to avenge his kin…or perhaps he was just being an idiot.

Damian knew, deep down in his gut, the cursed ship and crew guilty for his brother’s demise was out there right now—and he was locked away in the brig.

He was a blundering half-wit. Lust had muddled his senses, distracted him from his goal. He had always known that it would, yet still, he had given in to it. He had surrendered to his weakness, granting Belle power over him. And she had used that power by manipulating him into the brig. If only he hadn’t succumbed to his old wants and desires. If only his selfish side had not prevailed.

The demons in his head laughing at him, Damian brought his fingers to his temples in an attempt to quell their ribbing. But it did no good. The fiends guffawed and hollered and condemned him for his failure to avenge Adam…and all because of Belle.

It was perverse, really. She had trapped him in the brig. He shouldn’t give a bloody fig about what happened to her anymore. But he did. He cared more than he should, that was for sure.

A horrifying image soon consumed his thoughts. Belle’s limp body drifting in the water, maimed and bloody—and dead.

He suddenly wanted out of his cage for a whole different reason: to save Belle.

The derisive laughter grew louder in his head, reproaching him for his attachment to Belle. Another weakness. Even so, the drive inside him to protect her was stronger than the impulse to abandon her to fate.

Demons be damned, he would
not
allow her to disappear under the waves as Adam had done. Now if only he could get out of the blasted brig!

The cannonball that ripped through the hull just then, sending splinters shooting in all directions, also made a dent in the door.

Having ducked at the sound of the blast, Damian slowly rose to his feet, coughing at the fumes and examining the twisted iron bars.

With one robust kick, he sent the rest of the mangled metal swinging on its hinges.

Free.

Damian shot out of the brig. First, he had to find Belle and get her out of harm’s way.
Then
he’d help sink that filthy pirate ship.

Blood pounding in his head, Damian made his way topside.

Clouds of smoke rolled across the deck of the
Bonny Meg
. A sudden gust of wind cleared the area up ahead, revealing William at the helm, the helmsman down and motionless next to the wheel.

Heart thundering, Damian scanned the sea of sailors for a bright blond head. But there was no sign of Mirabelle.

He started to stalk across the deck, amid the roaring cannon fire and pungent stench and whizzing bullets. Searching through the chaos for Belle, his heart throbbed with each second that passed and he saw nothing of her.

The captain shouted an order Damian could not hear, but the sudden lurch of the vessel beneath his feet confirmed it had been a command to bring the ship about.

Damian landed on his back with wicked force, the breath knocked clear out of his lungs. He squinted for a moment, vertigo brushing over him, but it quickly passed, his vision returning.

As the blurry images high above his head sharpened, Damian narrowed his gaze on one black scrap of fabric whipping violently in the wind.

Bewildered, he rolled onto his knees and strained his eyes over the starboard rail toward the other ship, thinking for one brief and ludicrous second he had been blown clear off the
Bonny Meg
and onto the pirate vessel.

But no. He was not looking at the
Bonny Meg
from a pirate ship. He was
on
the
Bonny Meg
.

The world around him faded into oblivion. The bellow of cannon blasts, the bitter scent of sulfur, the holler of men. Damian saw and heard none of it anymore. He sensed only the blood rush through his veins, the roar deafening.

Convinced his imagination had gone awry, Damian glanced back up again. But the skull and crossbones still flapped in the mighty gale…as did the winged hourglass. Belle’s ring!

Damian suddenly wanted to vomit. He staggered to his feet, the pain in his head throbbing. He caught sight of James strutting across the deck, and for the first time he took notice of that long dark hair, black as pitch, billowing in the wind.

The Black Hawk.

“No,” Damian moaned. “It can’t be!”

James paused, dictating an order to a tar. No, a pirate. A bloody pirate!

The captain pointed in Damian’s direction and the pirate scurried off as bidden, but James’s gaze lingered for a moment, connecting with Damian’s.

Captain and navigator locked eyes briefly, a silent understanding passing between the two. The
Bonny Meg
’s true identity had just been revealed. Neither was pleased by that.

James looked away, the battle at hand demanding his attention.

But Damian stood rooted to the spot. He could scarce breathe, never mind move, the emotions inside him suffocating.

He was on a pirate ship. The very one he had been looking for. The men he’d shared quarters with, dined with, worked with, were pirates…the pirates who had killed his brother.

Muscles hard, rage pounding in his chest, Damian thundered back below deck. So he was
on
a pirate ship instead of firing at one? Fine. It changed nothing. There was still Adam to avenge, and he would do this one thing right, he vowed, even if it cost him his life.

With steely determination, Damian moved down the hatchway toward the gunpowder room. One spark and the
Bonny Meg
would be no more.

But the alarmed cry of a woman, as she smacked into him bounding up the steps, tossed that notion from his mind.

Mirabelle!

She
was a bloody pirate.

Damian’s heart slammed into his ribs at the realization. This was the woman he had lusted after…the woman in whose arms he had found a measure of peace. And all the while she was akin to an enemy. Her brothers had destroyed the only semblance of goodness he’d ever had in his miserable life: Adam. And yet, he could not bring himself to sink the ship. Not with her on board.

“Damian!” cried Belle, her eyes round with evident horror. “What are you doing here? How did you get out of the—”

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her up the stairs. He wasn’t really sure what he was going to do with her. The pain hacking through his heart was distracting.

“Damian, we’ll have to discuss this later!”

She wriggled free of his hold and took off running. He bounded after her, determined now to lock her away until the battle was over.

But she was a quick siren, eluding his capture, sprinting through the ship and eventually onto the gun deck, where she handed a gunner her powder chest. The pirate emptied the chest into the cannon and handed the container back to her. She bolted again, intent on more gunpowder, Damian assumed, but she didn’t get very far. He hooked his fingers around her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Not
now
, Damian!”

He paid her outcry no heed, dragging her away from the gun deck. She struggled to break free. He wrapped both his arms around her waist and was prepared to hoist her over his shoulder when they both heard the jubilant cries.

Damian and Mirabelle glanced toward the portholes in time to see the now badly damaged vessel slowly retreating. Orders were relayed to the gunners to hold their fire. Apparently, Black Hawk wasn’t going to finish off the rig as he had on the night Adam had perished. Why? Damian wasn’t certain. But then the idea came to him.

Mirabelle.

The captain obviously didn’t want to prolong the battle unnecessarily with his sister on board. It would only risk her life further. Damian could think of no other reason that James would abstain from destroying the other vessel, especially since
she
had attacked the
Bonny Meg
first.

As the smoke cleared from the gun deck, the pirates, all congratulating one another with smacks across the back and whoops of joy, slowly quieted down as they noticed Damian standing on deck.

The navigator was privy to their identities. Everyone was suddenly aware of that, even Belle, who cast him a both vexed and anxious look.

Heavy footsteps were heard coming down the hatchway, followed by the captain’s curt command. “Take him back to the brig.”

Later that night, Damian was locked back in the brig. The cell door had been temporarily repaired and was strong enough to hold him.

Morose, lost in thought, he sat on the floor, arms curled around his knees. A pirate ship. He was on a miserable pirate ship. He still couldn’t fathom how he had found himself in this predicament. After such a long and exhaustive search, for fate to simply toss him onto the
Bonny Meg
was staggering. Even more staggering was his failure to act on fate’s boon. He’d had one chance to blow the
Bonny Meg
to hell, and he had failed to take it. He had failed his brother. Again.

Damian let out a growl. Why did Belle have to be here? She had wrecked everything with her presence. But for her, the
Bonny Meg
would be lying at the bottom of the sea right now.

Damian rubbed his eyes, still stinging from the sulfur fumes. He was weak. More so than he had imagined. Like Odysseus, lost at sea, he had fallen under the enchantment of a beautiful siren. He had lusted after that siren to distraction. And now she had thwarted his goal: his vow of vengeance. A vow he had made in earnest to his brother.

The conflict inside him was brutal. The guilt intolerable. It was as though Adam had died a second time when Damian had failed to avenge him. Only this time,
he
had struck the mortal blow, not the pirates.

The creaking wood planks disturbed Damian from his gloomy meditation.

He glanced up to find Mirabelle approaching, lantern in hand. She set the light on the ground, a soft orange glow enveloping her features, highlighting her classic beauty.

She was a pirate. That bowled him over the most. His passionate, fiery temptress was nothing but a cutthroat. A novice cutthroat, but still, she aspired to be the one thing he hated more than anything else in the world…and he had bedded her. Over and over again. He had wallowed in debauchery and had loved every minute of it. And the crux of the problem was that he was
still
attracted to the woman, pirate blood and all!

“Quincy will bring you something to eat soon,” she said softly. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t trust himself to keep a cap on his temper. He might inadvertently confess his true intention, that he was trying to kill her brothers. And Belle, of course, would warn her kin, dashing all his hopes of ever bestowing retribution.

“Damian, I’m sorry you discovered our identity like this. It wasn’t suppose to happen this way. James was suppose to make a decision once we reached port…well, it doesn’t matter now.” She sighed. “But you’ll have to make a choice soon.”

He wrinkled his brow.

“You see,” she went on, hesitant, “you’ll have to join the crew or…”

“Be killed?” he said, not the least bit surprised by his so-called choice.

She nodded.

“I’m not joining the crew.” He was adamant. The very thought of it made his stomach churn.

“Damian, please, listen to reason. James can’t let you go, knowing our trade, but as a crew member you’re bound to him. If he plunders a ship, you are implicated, too. You can’t reveal his identity without condemning yourself and—”

“I understand the captain’s logic,” he cut in, a rough edge to his voice. “I’m still not joining the crew.”

“But you’ll die.”

“So be it.”

“Damn it, Damian!” Her arms folded under her breasts. “Life aboard the
Bonny Meg
isn’t so bad. You’ve seen firsthand. Why won’t you even consider it?”

“Because—”
Your brothers killed mine, that’s why
. “Forget it, Belle.”

Uncrossing her arms, she crouched down, their eyes level. “Damian, think about it. The wealth and the freedom. Surely being a pirate isn’t so disagreeable?”

He studied her for a moment, wondering why she was trying so hard to persuade him to stay. He finally asked, “Why do you want me to be a pirate?”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” she whispered.

Her words, words of caring, made his heart tighten. “Why?”

“Because you saved Quincy’s life—and mine. It wouldn’t be fair to take yours away.”

He shouldn’t have pushed her for an answer. He should have left it alone at
I don’t want to see you get hurt
. At least then he could imagine what he wanted, that she actually cared for him instead of feeling a sense of obligation.

Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? That’s all he needed, the affections of a pirate. Better that she loathed him. After all, he would kill her brothers as soon as he got the chance.