Tiger Eyes Read online

  A smile pulled at her lips as she continued caressing him through the fabric. Air whistled through his teeth, no doubt clenched, judging by the way his arms tightened about her. Now it was her turn to tease him into mindless want and overwhelming need.

  But her need overpowered and she tugged at the falls of his breeches, sighing with relief as she caught him with gentle fingers. His heat almost burned her, but she savored it, savored the silken heat of him. Her head spun wildly, her breath coming in very ragged gasps. He shivered against her, and that feeling of power faded. She didn’t want power over him. She wanted only to love him.

  “Gabby!” His hands tightened on her breasts, almost painfully so, but then he caught himself, his grip easing to that of a fiery caress that left her wanting more.

  Oh, he was so hot, so smooth…so perfect. She stroked him slow, teased him with different pressures and directions, until he was breathless, groaning into her neck and straining to reach her.

  “Sweetheart, don’t tease me any longer,” he whispered urgently, clasping her hips to rise from the chair.

  As he stood, he slid from her grasp and she grinned, feeling a heady rush at the smoked desire in his beautiful eyes. “Diego…”

  He backed her against the wall, held her with one arm, and his free hand slid beneath her skirts, up along her inner thigh, until she felt his fingertips part through her lower curls.

  She bit down hard on her bottom lip as his finger slid deep and he beckoned her into a mindless frenzy of desire and need. He stroked and teased, and when his thumb found the sensitive nub of her pleasure, the fire consuming her made her cry out and rock against him, desperate for more of the same.

  “Oh…sweetheart, yes…” he urged, as she writhed and arched against him as she hit that glorious peak. Sinful pleasure, hot and sweet, tore through her, and when he eased his finger free to lower her against him, she clamped her legs about his hips and accepted him eagerly.

  “Diego…” Her cry was breathless and plaintive as he thrust long and hard inside her. Thank God he was so powerfully built, for she would most certainly go mad if he didn’t take her right then and there.

  He growled in the back of his throat as he pinned her against the wall and surged up to meet her. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders, her knees dug into his sides, and their voices rose up in a single crescendo. He shuddered against her, and thrust with enough force to knock the painting above the sea chest to the floor.

  They exploded together in a fire of bliss and delight. She clung to him with breathless desire, her arms wrapped about his neck, holding him tight as he panted into her shoulder. Diego staggered back and sank back into his vacated chair, his arms still tight about her waist.

  “Gabby…sweetheart…” His voice was soft, almost a moan as he fought to catch his breath. His fingertips swept up her back and then down along her spine.

  She shivered as the breeze touched her overheated skin and the perspiration evaporated. A smile tickled her lips as she became acutely aware of the fact that they were both still fully dressed. “You didn’t even remove your breeches.”

  His body trembled with laughter. “There wasn’t time.”

  She pulled away to gaze down at him. “Really?”

  “Really.” He dragged in a deep breath, exhaled heavily, and closed his eyes before leaning his head against her once more.

  His hair was silken against her sensitive skin, and she was quite content to simply hold him like that until he caught his breath and lifted his head once more. His eyes were heavy-lidded, sleepy, and utterly sensual, threatening to reawaken the desire still pulsing through her.

  “She told me I should stay away from you.” She stroked his cheeks with gentle fingers, sweeping back to push his hair away from his face.

  “She’s probably right, Gabby. We are terrible for one another.”

  “Do you honestly believe that?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Yes. I do.”

  “So then why are we here? Why do we always end here?”

  “I have no answer for that.” He shifted, and the fullness inside her dissipated. He made no move to lift her off him, but instead tightened his arms about her. “I seem to have a gift for wanting women who are completely wrong for me and an inability to resist them.”

  “And I suppose I have the same gift, for wanting men who are all wrong for me.” An unexpected sadness settled over her. Perhaps she was destined to never find the one man who was right for her. Perhaps Diego had been that man and, in a moment of complete idiocy, of faithless fear, she destroyed whatever hope she’d had for happiness.

  “Why did you leave, Gabby?”

  She froze at his murmured question, as it was the last thing she’d ever expected him to ask. Somehow, she always thought that, if they should cross paths again, his male pride would preclude any mention of their broken betrothal.

  The peaceful glow broken, she pulled away and climbed down from his lap, then smoothed her skirts back into place. “Must we discuss this? It’s ancient history.”

  “It’s one thing that has always troubled me, Gabby. Why you simply vanished.” He stretched his legs out, reached down to refasten his breeches as he did so. When he relaxed, he crossed his ankles, laced his fingers together, and brought his hands to rest against his belly. “And I think you owe me at least that.”

  “I don’t know why I did,” she confessed, moving to sink onto the edge of the lower bunk. “I panicked, I suppose.”

  “Panicked? Over what? The monster you were about to bind yourself to?”

  She smiled. “Hardly. I was the envy of every female in Port Royal.” As he grinned arrogantly, she added, “I said was, you know.”

  His smugness faded and she shook her head. Her belly fluttered with apprehension, though she had no idea why she should be afraid of telling him. “I was afraid of having to give up the life I loved so much.”

  “And you loved it more than you did me?”

  There was no self-pity in his voice, only mild curiosity, and for some reason, that made her feel even worse. “No. Actually, that isn’t so. If you must know, I regretted my actions by sunrise. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. And even if I’d turned about then, by the time I made it back to Jamaica, you would have been beyond furious and embarrassed and most likely wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me again. So I thought it best if I simply went…away.”

  “You had so little faith in me that you thought I’d go back on my word.”

  Though it was said without any hint of sarcasm or mockery, heated shame trickled into the pit of her belly as she nodded slowly. “Yes. I suppose I did.” She scuttled back to sit against the wall and clasped her hands together, draping her arms over her knees to keep her left leg from jumping. “It was foolish and weak of me. And I realized that by the next dawn. But would you honestly have welcomed me back, even if I’d turned right about and been back in port by the next night? Would you have still wanted to marry me, after I’d embarrassed you before your friends?”

  He didn’t answer, but his gaze took on a faraway look and she nodded. “I thought not, and I can hardly find fault with you for it, either. But that is why I did not return. We would never have crossed paths again, had Carmichael not accosted me. And I think we both would have been happier for it.”

  “Happier.” He snorted out a derisive laugh at that, unfolding his hands and drawing his legs in as he sat upright. “Yes, I suppose. You had your freedom. I had mine. What was there to be unhappy about?”

  The heavy sarcasm in his voice gave her pause. “You mean, you haven’t been happy?”

  “What is happy?” he countered, rising from the chair to cross to the window, where he leaned up against the sill, resting his elbow on it as he peered through the rippled glass. “Was I happy when I woke to find you’d taken to the sea again? No. Was I happy when I spent what was to have been my wedding night alone? No.” He faced her again, and this time, his eyes were ha
rd, devoid of any emotion, and as brittle as his voice as he added, “And was I happy when I heard your voice in that pit of hell on board the Nereus?”

  Though she anticipated his response, it still stung when he shook his head and growled out, “No. I put you behind me, Gabby. Put all of it behind me. And what happened? It bit me on the arse.”

  The urge to hurt him as much as his words sliced through her rose up, but she managed to tamp it down. “So why are you here then?”

  Rubbing his chin with thoughtful fingers, he fell silent as he stared out at the water. Then, with a lazy lift of his broad shoulders, he rumbled, “I don’t know.”

  Her heart skipped a painful beat as a new, more important question poked and prodded its way into her brain. She didn’t want to know the answer, but had to ask it anyhow. “Did you ever marry?”

  Another thick silence stretched between them, the only sound the dull thud of her heart as she awaited his response. It almost hurt, looking at him and thinking of him as someone else’s husband. Especially after their time on the island. She didn’t want to think of sharing him.

  But without turning toward her, he said, “No. I came close, but I never quite got there.”

  “Who was she?”

  Why was she torturing herself? Did it matter who this other woman was, or what happened between her and Diego? No. It didn’t. At least, it shouldn’t. Why should she care how many women passed through his life now? He wasn’t hers, would never be hers, and she didn’t want him anyhow.

  But still, she held her breath as he replied, “Her name was Adeline. I met her shortly after you—” he peered at her over one shoulder, offering up a rueful grin, “—took to the sea.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I was with Iñigo, on Barbados, searching for Finn—ah, Fiona—and Adeline assisted us. In return, we brought her back to St. Phillippe.”

  “How long after I left?” An unfamiliar tightness knotted her belly, swirled a most uncomfortable tension through her muscles. She stiffened against it, but that only made it worse. “Well?”

  “A few weeks.” He turned completely toward her, brows drawn in confusion. “Why is this so important to you, Gabby? It was five years ago.”

  She had no answer. Why was it so bloody important? He and this mysterious Adeline were obviously no longer together. “And since her?”

  “Nothing serious,” he sighed, raking his fingers through his dark hair. “You?”

  “We are not discussing me.”

  “Oh, but we are discussing me. Was I supposed to forget women existed because one deceived me?”

  That stung. “I did not deceive you.”

  “Really?” His tone was mild, but thick with disbelief. “What would you call it, Gabby?”

  “A mistake. Much like this conversation.”

  “I am sorry if I was supposed to live my life as a monk, forsaking all other women, Gabby. Was I supposed to pine for you for the rest of my days? You left. I had no idea where you’d gone or why, but you were gone. And I don’t doubt that you slept alone every eve either.”

  Fury tightened her belly, seized her muscles, and she almost had to sit on her hands to keep from cracking his cheek with one palm. “Is that so? Well, I suppose you don’t, since it sounds as though you wasted no time in replacing me.”

  His grin was coldly arrogant once more. “Jealousy does not become you, Gabby. It never has.”

  “Jealous?” She forced as much contempt as she could muster into that one word as she folded her arms over her chest. “I hate to disillusion you, Captain Santa Cruz, but in order to be jealous I would have to give a damn about you and I truly don’t give that damn. I should have but left those splinters in your leg and let you suffer.”

  “It would be heaven compared to this,” he snapped, stalking by her to yank open the door. “The next time you decide to attack the captain’s wife, I’ll be certain to let her pummel you silly.”

  “As if I needed your help. I was doing fine on my own!”

  He paused in the doorway, turning to sneer at her over one shoulder. “You didn’t seem all that sorry for my assistance when you were ripping at my breeches now, did you?”

  “Please,” she sniffed, tossing her hair. “Your technique could use a bit of work, you know.”

  “So I gathered from the way you clawed at me, calling my name.”

  “Get out.”

  “With pleasure.”

  She marched over to slam the door on his smug smile, swallowing a curse as the deep rumble of his laughter filled her ears. “Arrogant jackass,” she muttered, leaning back against the door as his footsteps died away.

  As those sounds faded into the distance, a heaviness sank into her. What the devil had just happened? How could such a wonderful moment be ruined so quickly? And how could a simple question erupt into a battle that so quickly grew out of hand?

  There was no denying that very powerful passion still existed—they’d always fought just as they’d loved, with all the fury and fire imaginable. Only this time, she wasn’t at all certain that anything other than anger could exist between them. And that scared her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Iñigo, a word?”

  Iñigo turned away from the wheel as Diego stepped up behind him. “Certainly.” He turned back to Juan Pedro, his second in command on board the Serena, finished issuing orders, and then moved completely away from the wheel. “What is it?”

  Diego glanced at Juan Pedro, who took his place at the wheel. He didn’t appear to be paying attention to anything other than the ocean stretched out before them. Still, he knew from experience sailors heard much without making themselves obvious.

  He frowned and shook his head. “Not here.”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Juan Pedro, but he believed in playing it safe when it came to matters of a personal nature, and this most definitely fell into that category.

  They made their way to the foredeck, where Iñigo leaned up against the starboard rail. “A nice evening.”

  “Yes.” Diego joined him, looking out over the calm, black water. The weather was perfect, enough wind to keep them moving, a clear, sparkling sky, a full moon glowing pale white overhead and igniting a molten silver trail in the ship’s wake.

  “Of course, the skies were gold at sunset. They will be red come morning. Rough weather lies ahead.”

  Diego agreed, but had no great desire to discuss the weather. Good or bad, the weather mattered very little. He rested his forearms against the sleek oak rail. “You need to tell Finn to keep her distance, Iñigo. I appreciate why she is interfering, but this is none of her concern.”

  Iñigo’s sigh was heavy with exasperation and he also stared out at the water. “I tried to tell her to mind her own matters, but you know how she is.”

  “I do. Which is why you need remind her. I value her friendship, as I value yours, but I do not want, nor do I need, her help.”

  “You run no risk of losing my friendship, so long as you stop short of telling my wife to go to hell.” Iñigo glanced at him with a brotherly affection he knew well. “But, forgive me if I overstep when I ask, what exactly is there between you and Miss Markham?”

  He’d been asking himself that same question most of the day. Its weight pressed on his shoulders, grew heavier with each passing hour. It was his turn to sigh as he lifted his foot to brace it against the lower rung and clasped his hands together. There was only one answer, and it was hardly an answer at all. “I don’t know.”

  “But you are sleeping with her again, aren’t you?” Iñigo lowered his voice. “If not now, you were, back there.”

  It was a no-win situation. If he said no, Iñigo would only call his bluff. A deep breath. A slow exhale. “Both, actually.”

  “Diego…”

  The warning, the disappointment, was heavy in Iñigo’s voice and sent a flash of irritation crackling through him. Why should it matter one way or the other to Iñigo? “You are not my keeper, Iñigo. I don’t
answer to you any more than I do to your wife, no matter how you two might see it.”

  At Iñigo’s level stare, his irritation faded as quickly as it flared, and exhaustion displaced it. “It wasn’t anything I set forth to do. It wasn’t anything either of us set out to accomplish. It was merely fate which brought us together again.”

  “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps not entirely, no. But how else can I explain it? I awaited death in that hold and yet, the moment I heard her voice, death became the furthest thing from my mind.”

  Iñigo’s stare hardened, his disappointment palpable. “You are being a fool. You know this.”

  Diego refused to let it trouble him. “Whom I choose to bring into my bed is just that, my choice.” He shot Iñigo a look. “Why do you care so much? I am unmarried. She is unmarried. Not to mention, neither one of us was at all certain we’d ever even get off that damned island. Though we have, neither she nor I expects much more than this.”

  “Are you so certain of that?”

  “Yes!” Diego threw up his hands, his patience completely eroded. “I am. And even if I wasn’t, again, you are not my keeper.”

  Iñigo’s jaw tightened and his back stiffened. “Very well. But you know you cannot trust her. Without trust, there can be nothing beyond lust. You are a fool if you think otherwise.”

  Diego couldn’t help his grin. “Ah, but you see, I find I don’t mind the lust so much. She is quite—ah—gifted. I would rather have little more than lust, if you want to know the truth. Lust is wonderfully uncomplicated.”

  Iñigo groaned and slapped his hand to his forehead. “Finn is right about us. More often than not, we think with parts other than our brains.” Lowering his hand, he grasped the railing with both. “We should reach port in two or three days, if the weather holds out. What happens then?”

  “I go in search of Carmichael.”

  “And Miss Markham?”

  Bracing for a fresh surge of anger from Iñigo, Diego replied, “I’ve offered to sail her home.”