Wrong Kind of Paradise (8 page)

Soaked, sore, and irritated as hell, he struggled to his feet. His eyes swept the area for Angel’s

blonde head, but he couldn’t find her. He frowned.
Where was she?

His heart tripped.
Was she hurt
? “Angel!” he shouted. He crossed to the cart wreckage and

rummaged through the pieces of wood. Rain impaired his vision and he couldn’t see a damn thing.
Where

was she
? He shouted her name again, and the wind tore it from his mouth.

Fear slithered down his spine.
Was she hurt? Dead
?

He frantically searched for her; his heart thundered inside his chest. What the damned impulsive

woman needed, once he found her, was a damn good paddling, which Logan should have done years ago.

A moan sounded and he strode toward it.

Heaving a large piece of the wagon siding aside, he found her. Relief exploded from him in a

whoosh. The wind died down to a soft whine. Her eyes were closed, and raindrops trickled across her

smooth skin. She was beautiful. He kneeled next her. Lifting her, he whispered, “Angel. Wake up,

sweetheart. Are you all right?”

Past images of Angel flashed through his mind and he realized how much he’d missed her smile.

Angel and Logan had both become such a large part of his life over the years that he wasn’t certain what

he would do if he lost them both. “Are you injured?” he whispered.

Before he had her hauled to her feet, the tip of his own sword pricked him just beneath his chin. Her

reflexes had improved much over the last two years. “You should be advised, Captain Barclay, I am no

longer a child.”

Blac tilted his chin higher at the deliberate point she managed to include with her words. He’d yet

to drop his hands. “I expected no less, Angel. You were far from childhood the last time we met, if I

remember correctly.”

“Yes I was, but you don’t have to be a child to be naïve, and for that I should thank you. It was

obviously a lesson I needed to learn, and learn it I did.”

He shook his head. “You speak of things you know little about.”

“Do not think for a second that I will listen to your excuses now.” The tip of the sword drew blood,

which trickled down his neck. “My only hope is that my father never learns of your duplicity. But do not

ever think that I will forget.”

He chuckled and peered down his nose at her, defying the pressure of the sword. “I find that ironic,

Angel. You assume you know your father so much when in fact, you know so little. This was your father’s

idea.”

Her eyes rounded and then narrowed. “Liar!”

“Am I?”

She expelled a breath, the sound harsh in the silence of the rain. “I don’t believe you. You lie to get

your way.” The downpour bathed them and dripped from her chin, and a low rattle of thunder

accompanied her words.

“If only that were the case.”

He stared her down. Rain flushed the cut above her eye, the blood running red down the side of her

temple. Minutes passed with no movement or sound before her eyes dropped to his mouth. “There was

once a time when I craved even a simple word from you. But now, my only wish is to wash myself of

your touch.”

Surprise widened his gaze. “I am so revolting to you now?”

“Yes,” she hissed. But her eyes filled with tears, contradicting her words.

“And here I had hope we could pick up right where we left off.” He lifted the corner of his lip to

belie his words.

“And if I remember correctly, I warned you to remove your hands from me,” she said.

A single brow arched over his eye. He did not remove his hands. Instead, he squeezed tighter.

“Before you issue threats, madam, you should make damn certain you are able to back them up.” One of

his hands seized the sword hilt and dragged it away from his neck to the left. “I am neither a young lad,

nor a weak old pirate. You will learn soon enough that it takes more than the tip of your sword to sway

me.”

She leapt backward and lifted the sword in a defensive stance once again. But he kept coming. Her

green-blue eyes widened just enough to reveal her fear. “Yes, be afraid, little one. When you wake the

Serpent, you can expect to be greeted by his fangs.”

She lifted her chin. “I am not afraid of you.”

“You will be.”

She swung at his mid-section and he leapt backward. He rolled then sprang to his feet directly

before her so quickly, she gasped. His vise-like hands clasped the sword, yanked it from her, and tossed

it to the ground in a single move. The weapon clattered to the cobblestones and slid under the broken

debris of the wagon.

He reached for her, but she ducked at the last minute and ran down the street. He chased her, her

speed no match for his longer stride. One of his hands clasped a handful of her hair and he yanked her

back until she fell into him. She came around with a hard right to his jaw. He shook his head, surprised at

her strength. Releasing her hair, his arms apprehended her lithe body. She couldn’t move her upper body

at all but she kicked his shins, managing to get several solid hits in. He winced. But he didn’t let her go.

“Now you can go with me quietly, Angel. Or we can do it your way, fighting the entire way.” He

sighed when she did not cease her struggle. “Either way, I will win,” he whispered into her ear.

She screamed in frustration and gritted her teeth at him. “I hate you, you back-stabbing bastard!”

The slightest stab of pain rippled through him, but he ignored it. His impulsive package would learn

soon enough that he refused to play her games any longer. He’s chased her for two years and now it was

time to pay the piper. Angel may have been able to get away with stealing from the English, but she would

pay dearly for commandeering his ship.

Blac set his jaw, released her long enough to swoop down and lift her onto a shoulder. “So be it.

The hard way it is.” His arms clamped down on her kicking feet and her hands found a solid purchase in

his kidneys. A grunt escaped him.

He carried her all the way to the docks and dropped her unceremoniously into the dinghy, hopping

in behind her. She hadn’t even managed to sit up before he placed a large booted foot over her back and

pushed her down, face first. She cursed.

His crew arrived with her four companions and the commander. “Leave the crew and stow the good

commander in the hold, Mr. Santiago,” he said to Rigo. “I have a message to be delivered to the rest of

Angel’s crew.”

~*~

The sound of church bells seemed almost sacrilegious as they boarded the refitted three-masted

Brig. Eighty feet long and at least twenty-four feet wide, she was long and narrow, with a draught of

thirteen feet. A beauty, to say the least.

Built not only for speed, but the twenty eight-pounders meant if it was caught broadside, it would

stand a better chance than any other small-classed ship.

Angel silently smirked at the ship’s name, “Serpent’s Revenge.” She’d really irked him when she’d

renamed his ship, the Serpent’s Lady. Good, she hoped he’d choked on it. The swine.

Blac ordered her deposited in the captain’s cabin and ordered it to stay locked. The room was

small by any standards. It was cramped but neat. There were few furnishings. She moved across the left

corner of the room and sat upon the double bunk bed laden with multiple brightly colored pillows from

the Indies. She’d always believed she could tell a lot about people by their personal rooms. Her eyes

gazed at her surroundings to see exactly what it said about one Blac Barclay.

At the foot of the bunk, lay a heavy trunk, and she waltzed over to test the lock. It was, of course,

locked.
Damned paranoid man
. She whipped around and opened the armoire. Everything was arranged

by color and there weren’t many colors to choose from: Black, white, grey and browns.

Blac isn’t one for variety
.
But he definitely has a knack for organization.

She banged shut the doors and sat on the edge of the ornate claw-footed table surrounded by six

matching chairs in the middle of the floor. The room didn’t tell her much about the man, other than he

preferred order and cleanliness. The only other decorations, save for the pillows, were the heavy damask

velvet curtains at the windows and the bright colored Persian rug on the floor.

If this room said anything about him, it said he was bland and boring. Or perhaps he tried to

suppress a passionate nature with order. Excitement chased her spine every time he neared, so how could

he be bland or boring?

She strode to the far end of the cabin and sat in one of chairs. Maps and charts littered the end of the

table in neat little stacks. Angel fingered the stiff parchment. Blac had been tracking her for months now.

Each red mark indicated where she’d been seen last. She removed the quill and closed the lid of the ink

jar. She found it interesting to think he’d been so doggedly pursuing her all this time. Was it simply guilt?

Or could there possibly be a more interesting reason why he was so intent on catching her?

Her heart twittered in her chest, and she found the idea exhilarating. Half her life she’d followed

this man with love struck eyes. Everyone in the world had known of her infatuation except the man

himself. He’d been clueless. There had been a time when she would have done anything just to get an

ounce of attention from him, and now...those days were over. She’d grown up. He’d forced her to see life

as it really was. She and Blac would never have a future. He’d made sure of that the day he’d betrayed

her and her father.

Her gaze rose to the gallery of windows. The sun had just crept over the last hurdle and was well

on its way toward its zenith. She jolted when the ship first moved. They were underway.
Where were they

going
?

The door swung open and Blac stood there, a triumphant grin on his handsome face.

She gritted her teeth. His arrogance repelled her while at the same time, her childish fantasies

resurfaced, making her want to throw herself into his arms.

“My crew will follow,” she said, determined to conceal her attraction to him.

“I’m counting on it.” He shut the door and crossed the room to the mahogany table secured to the

floor. “So I would make myself comfortable for now and enjoy the...ride.”

Her eyes widened at the remembrance of those words. His dark gaze focused on her, so he

remembered those very same words that day so long ago. She pursed her lips and turned away. “Words

spoken by a girl,” she murmured. “A naïve girl who didn’t understand their meaning.”

“And do you know their meaning now?” His whisper came from directly behind her.

She stiffened. Did he know the effect he still had on her? She had to pretend she didn’t feel the

shock at his nearness, or the heat. Her heart thundered in rhythm to the waves crashing against the hull of

the ship. Why, after his betrayal did he still have this kind of power over her?

She peered at him over her shoulder. “I know their meaning.” She closed her eyes. And never had

those words been truer than now. Never had she wanted that ride he spoke of, more than at this moment.

She’d missed him. More than she cared to admit. Had he missed her at all? She wouldn’t ask. He

would know just how much she’d come to care for him over the years. When she had imagined her future,

it had always been with Blac. And now...he was here, but he wasn’t at her side as she’d hoped he would

be.

She ducked her head, took a deep breath, and then turned to face him. “I had a little girl’s fantasy,

and it’s over,” she lied.

His chin lifted. A bruised ego? Oh, she hoped so. Those grey eyes like hammered metal, pinned her

to the spot and she imagined he could see into her soul. A shiver raced through her. He knew she was

fibbing. Her heart accelerated; her palms moistened.

“Over it?” He stepped forward, so close their breaths mingled. “Is that so?”

She turned away from him to answer. “Yes.”
If only that were true
.

His hands gripped her arm and turned her to face him again. “Two years ago, I would have

appreciated those words and been glad to hear them.”

“And now?”

He didn’t blink. He didn’t give any warning. His mouth swooped down and captured hers. Despite

the initial shock, her body responded as she’d known it would. She opened easily and, her arms wrapped

around his neck to bring him closer.

Oh, why had it ended this way? Why couldn’t he have loved her when she had wanted him to?

Her senses reeled and her body strained against his. She’d wanted this man for so long Her breasts

flattened against his chest and both hands buried themselves in his nape. The silky strands threaded

through her fingers as the warmth of his embrace enveloped her.

He groaned. The sound sent shivers down her spine. A soft moan escaped, and as if he knew what

she secretly wanted he answered in kind with both hands gripping her hips as he ground his hardness into