Tiger Eyes Page 10

  The wistfulness in his voice surprised her. “But you always dreamed of a ship of your own.”

  “I did. And I had it.” He gazed back out at the water. “But I am not quite the captain he was, I’m afraid. I cannot see him being bested by a soft worm such as Carmichael.”

  “Yes, well, I know Carmichael and he bested me as well.”

  “True, but you are a woman.”

  He said this with a long look at her and her back stiffened. “Oh, so that means I am automatically no opposition?”

  “Compared to other women? No. Compared to me? Yes. Or at least, you should be.”

  A sour retort bubbled to her lips and she tried her damndest to swallow it, but she couldn’t quite hold it back. “Ah, but he bested me on land. Snuck up on me. He blasted you right out of the water.”

  Diego’s jaw tightened and he turned to affix her with a frigid stare. “Had he come up behind me outside a tavern, I’ve no doubt he’d have been an unrecognizable dung heap when I finished with him.”

  Now his eyes swirled honey-gold, alive with a fury she knew far too well. His poker face was about to betray him, judging by the clenched muscles in his jaw, and the balled hand resting on his right thigh.

  It was unwise to prod him further, and she didn’t much want to fight with the only other soul on the island, no matter what happened between them. A long sigh leaked through her lips and she said, “Perhaps it would be best if we did not try to outdo one another. Perhaps we should go back to discussing the surprising news that Iñigo Sebastiano is a tamed husband and father now. I must admit, I cannot picture him with little ones at his knee.”

  It took a long moment, but then Diego smiled. “It suits him. He and Finn are well matched.”

  “I am happy for him, then. But what does he do now?”

  “He exports rum to the colonies. Imports spices from the Orient.”

  “And slaves from Africa?”

  Diego’s smile faded and his eyes darkened. “He would not touch a slave ship if his life depended on it. Tell me, have you increased your fortunes that way?”

  She shook her head. “No. I have no desire to run across Corsairs. There is much money to be made, but the danger is equally high. I prefer staying on this side of the world. Markham runs rice and indigo, sugar, spices between Europe and the colonies, and Barbados. We have nothing to do with slavers.”

  The wind picked up, swirled in from the water, and tugged at her hair until the strip of linen slipped free. She snatched it before the wind could carry it off, and wrapped it about her wrist, knotting it lightly to keep in secure. “What about you? What do you do now?”

  “Iñigo and I are partners. He prefers the offices on St. Phillippe, I prefer the waters around her. I was on Barbados, having just returned from the colonies. A brief stop in Bridgetown and we’d just left port hours earlier when I crossed paths with Carmichael. And when we get off this damned island, he will rue the day he opened fire on the Osiris.”

  She frowned. “Carmichael isn’t known for taking prisoners, though. It makes no sense why he imprisoned you.”

  A lazy shrug. “I’m hardly surprised. There’s been bad blood between Carmichael and Sebastiano Shipping for some time now. It seems Iñigo sank a ship under Carmichael’s command when Carmichael sailed for Rodriguez.”

  She didn’t recognize the name. “Rodriguez?”

  He waved off her confusion. “A long story, and one I’ve no desire to repeat. My guess is it stems from that, and Carmichael thought he could ransom me to Iñigo. Or perhaps he thought I was Iñigo. To him, all Spaniards look alike.”

  A wry grin accompanied his words and she chuckled. “Oh, of course. Why, I don’t think I’d be able to tell you apart if you stood side by side.”

  “When we get off this damned rock, I’ll put you to the test.” His smile faded and fire returned to his eyes. “If we ever get off this damned rock, that is.”

  “And if we don’t get off this island?” Though she’d been doing her best to ignore the nagging little voice inside her head, the one that laughed at her for being so foolish enough to even hope another ship came their way, the question was out before she could halt it.

  Silence stretched between them again. A long, uncomfortable silence. Gabby reached up to rake her hair out of her eyes. Somehow, if Diego told her she was being silly, that of course a ship would come along, she would believe it. Foolish, perhaps, but that reassurance would go a long way to offering her peace of mind.

  Diego scooped up a handful of sand and let it spill noiselessly through his fingers. A heavy sigh whistled through his teeth and he finally replied, “Then we die here, I suppose.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

  The rest of the sand slipped through his fingers and he brushed the remaining grains from his palm. “What else would you like me to say, Gabby? We can build a ship from these stunted trees? Without pitch? Without tar? We’d never make it beyond the breakers.”

  “So we should simply give up and just wait to die?”

  “Well, I think we should fight it like hell. There’s plenty of fish in these waters, fresh water in the jungle. As long as neither of us gets sick or injured or is attacked by something, we could live very nicely here.”

  “Just you and I? And you are fine with that?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?” he asked, mirthless laughter woven through his words. “I’ll admit, you aren’t the first person I’d want to be marooned with, but you aren’t the last, either.”

  “Oh, well, now I feel so much better.” She itched to lob a coconut at him just to show him what she thought about being marooned there with him. But she thought better and only heaved it at him in her mind.

  He grinned then—a genuine grin that touched his stormy eyes to calm them. “Oh, come now, Gabby. Are you telling me there isn’t someone else other than me you’d much rather be stranded here with?”

  She rose to her feet and brushed gritty sand from the seat of her breeches. “This conversation is silly. I am going to go gather water.”

  “Gabby,” he caught her by the hand as she neared, “I meant it not as an insult.”

  “Of course not. How could I possibly think otherwise?”

  She tried to pull free, but he refused to release her. Instead, he got to his feet with only a hint of a grimace. “I did not mean it as an insult. But even you have to admit, our pairing is about as practical as oil and water.”

  “I thought we got on rather well, all things considered.”

  “We do. Until the sun rises—” he rubbed his thumb along hers, “—then we realize we were not meant to be together.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Yes, well… I suppose that would be fairly accurate. But I had rather hoped we could move beyond that.”

  “Do you think we can? After yesterday? After last night?” His eyes softened and he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have touched you yesterday. You get under my skin, sweetheart. And it would have been far better for me to have turned away and not re-opened old wounds.”

  “Perhaps, but I also had a choice. It was not yours alone.” A heaviness sank into her heart as she gazed up at him. She’d loved him once. And she’d gotten over it. Fear forced her to forget about him, to forget about what he’d meant to her.

  But last night brought it all back to crash over her like one of those waves breaking on the shore. She sighed softly, easing her hand free. “So we should become adversaries, then? Is that even possible?”

  “No. No. I don’t think that’s the answer at all.” His smile was gentle, as was the hand curved against her cheek. “But I think we need to act as though we are. Otherwise, I don’t know that I’d want to leave. You are dangerous, sweetheart. Very, very dangerous. And it’s a danger I cannot resist.”

  That last sentence was uttered in a soft, sensual whisper, accompanied by the sweep of his thumb against her cheek. Her blood surged through her veins, hot and thick, as her eyelids drooped and she leaned into
his caress.

  He bent close, brushed his lips over her forehead, and then broke all contact by stepping back as his hand fell away. “I am going to go get water. I don’t want you wandering about in the jungle.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with, “Yes, yes. I know. You are quite capable of defending yourself. But, since I’m also fairly certain you could not kill a wild pig or bird for meat, it’s best if I go, for I have no such qualms.”

  He was most likely right. For all her time at sea and the battles she’d been involved in, she didn’t think she would have the heart to butcher anything she might happen upon. Her pride didn’t want to admit it, but she pushed that back into its small box deep inside, and slammed the lid. “Very well. I suppose I will gather more coconuts.”

  He grinned at the distaste in her voice, but said nothing. Instead, he turned toward the jungle and strode into the foliage, disappearing from view. Gabby watched him vanish and then, with a slight sniff, set to work gathering up the coconuts from the beach.

  Chapter Twelve

  Not only did Diego not catch a wild boar or bird that night, but he also didn’t for the next three days. Fortunately, Gabby surprised both of them with her skills as a fisherman, so they didn’t suffer too badly. It wasn’t the most exciting task, standing knee-deep in the water, a crudely fashioned spear at the ready. However, she had a sharp eye and an accurate throw. A lethal combination, if one was a fish.

  As she stood there, the water foaming about her knees, she tugged at the waist of her breeches. They were loose, and becoming looser by the day. It wouldn’t be long before she would have to fashion a belt out of palm fronds to tie about her waist. If the breeches didn’t fall apart first, that was.

  A dry laugh rose to her lips as she hitched them up again yet again. Not only were her clothes too big, they were falling apart as well. Diego fared no better, and now he sported the beginnings of what would soon be a thick beard as well. She hated to admit it, but the wild man look suited him, added to his allure, much to her discomfort.

  An uneasy peace settled over them. True, there was still a bit of tension in the air, but she found she slept better if he was near. She tried to convince herself that was only natural. He was a man. Laws of nature said he offered a certain modicum of safety, even if being so close to him was enough to nearly drive her mad. She could only hope, with the tiniest bit of wickedness, that it drove him equally mad to be so near her and not be able to do a thing about it.

  It was the unspoken truce they’d reached. All talk of what had happened between them ceased and Diego went out of his way to give her the chance to bathe in peace and in safety, by moving into a clump of trees and turning his back to her. At first, she swore he peeked, but each time she looked in his direction, she saw only his back. If he was stealing glances, he was very skilled at not getting caught. It was as if that one night of passion never happened, as if it were only something she’d dreamed.

  It troubled her at first, but the further it retreated into yesterday, the easier it became to pretend it never happened as well. After all, it was for the best.

  Or so she tried to tell herself.

  But if she was completely honest with herself—

  “No. I’m not thinking about it.” She stood on the beach, the surf sluicing about her ankles as she did her morning ritual of scanning the seas in hopes of spying a ship in the distance. The water was the calmest she’d seen it yet, and the sun danced along its surface, making it sparkle like thousands of perfectly cut diamonds. Puffy white clouds billowed across the sky. A ship loomed in the distance.

  She froze, squinting across the glittering sea as her eyes watered and stung. The spear in her hand forgotten, it dropped into the water with a soft plunk. Fish no longer mattered.

  A ship.

  On the horizon.

  A ship.

  On the horizon.

  “Diego!” She shouted as loud as she could, but the wind caught her words and cast them out over the cove.

  “Diego!” She didn’t want to take her eyes off the small speck of a ship, with its billowing white sails that were perhaps the size of her thumbnail. Didn’t want to risk it disappearing.

  When she shouted a third time, only to have it crushed by the winds, she gave up. Turning about, she raced into the jungle, screaming his name at the top of her lungs. Her feet barely touched the leaves and debris along the now-worn path. The birds, accustomed to their human invaders, didn’t stir, though they did chatter their disapproval as she raced past them.

  Finally, her feet squeaked against bare sand as she reached the spring. Diego was just emerging from the water when she burst through the dense brush. “Diego!”

  “What is it?”

  She stopped short as he rose up before her, and her mouth went dry at the sight. But, before her thoughts could scramble too badly, she remembered why she’d come racing at him like a lunatic. “A ship! There’s a ship in the distance! One that’s growing larger!”

  “What?”

  She nodded, bending over to swipe up his breeches from where he’d spread them out on a warm rock. “Come and see for yourself!”

  “Wait…” He lifted his injured leg to thrust into the leg hole, but the combination of wet flesh and dry linen served only to have him hopping about like a madman on his good leg, struggling to get into the breeches without bumping his injured leg. That he managed to avoid hitting it was nothing short of a miracle. “Bloody hell!”

  But she couldn’t wait any longer. She grabbed his hand and yanked. “Oh, just come on! By the time we reach the beach, you’ll be dry and they will just slide on!”

  “Run through there? Bare-assed? Are you mad?” He jerked away, tugging on the breeches at the same time. “I’d like to keep all my parts, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Well, while you’re worrying about your tool being snatched off by some sticker plants, our hopes of rescue are disappearing over the horizon.”

  “So you go on ahead and get a fire readied.” He shoved his foot into the breeches once more.

  She sighed with exasperation and started off back to the beach. She held her breath until she reached the sand, then exhaled with relief. The ship still loomed, larger now, and she hurried to gather up the wood Diego had stored, for just such an occasion.

  By the time he emerged from the woods, she had the signal fire going and was feeling quite pleased with herself. Once she’d piled the wood, it was only a matter of using their small fire in the cave to light a torch of palm fronds. True, she’d burned herself twice in the process of transporting the torch to the signal fire, but it would be well worth the discomfort if that ship saw them.

  She practically trembled with joy as the ship continued to grow. They were going to get off that bloody fool island.

  “How can you simply sit there?” It was probably the tenth time she asked him, but she couldn’t help it. How could he sit there, leaning against the trunk of a fallen palm tree, with his forearms resting on his drawn-up knees as if it were any ordinary afternoon?

  She couldn’t sit still. Impossible. She was far too jumpy, and so kept up her relentless pacing. But Diego simply shook his head at her. “Because it serves no purpose to bounce up and down the beach. It won’t make that ship come any closer, any faster.”

  “Oh! I wish I could sit still.” She marched away from him, toward the water, sloshed through the foam fingers stroking the sand, and turned to march back. “I feel like I just might burst out of my skin!”

  And so the day wore on, with that scenario playing out again and again. Only when night fell, did she finally plunk down alongside him.

  Diego chuckled as she sat back against the fallen tree, with the fire between them and the water. “I was beginning to wonder when you’d tire.”

  “Oh, I am hardly tired. How could I be tired? Why, this time tomorrow, we might be on our way back to Jamaica or Barbados or whichever island is the closest.” She rambled, but couldn’t he
lp it. The thought of getting off the island was enough to make her gush like the mighty waterfall. Her heart thundered a frenetic beat and her breath was increasingly more difficult to catch. Butterflies took over the pit of her belly, their flurry of spastic wings doing nothing to ease her tension. Any attempt to remain cool and calm vanished as the ship drew nearer still, and she cared not how foolish Diego might think it.

  But he just smiled and shook his head. “I hate to be the one to burst this adorable excitement, sweetheart,” he drawled, covering her hand with his. “But what if that ship is overrun with types we don’t want to see?”

  “Right now, I’d be happy if Captain Morgan himself captained that bloody ship.” Not entirely true, of course, but still…

  But he laughed again. “Why don’t I believe that? Come and try to sleep, Gabby. The earliest they will be near is tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly sleep.”

  “Humor me, won’t you? You’re making me nervous with all of that pacing.”

  She stared hard at him to see if he was mocking her, but his eyes were serious as he held up an arm. Sighing softly, she leaned up against him. “I am only doing this to soothe your nerves, Diego.”

  “Of course you are.” He draped his arm about her shoulders.

  “Do you think they are less than friendly?”

  “I haven’t a clue, sweetheart. The best either of us can do is hope they are.”

  She sighed softly, her belly alive with nervous apprehension. She had to force herself to remain seated. Energy hummed through her, each wave more powerful than the last. “I would feel better if Carmichael hadn’t confiscated my steel.”

  “Trust me, if anyone’s going to throttle you, it’ll be me.”

  She rolled her eyes at his dry tone. “Very funny.”

  His hand cupped her shoulder, squeezing her close. “You have nothing to worry about, Gabby. I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really. I wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand upon you.”