Tiger Eyes Read online

  But she couldn’t. Her mind restrained her heart, made motion impossible. It was for the best. Or at least, that was what she tried to tell herself as she sank back into the warm sand and dissolved into the tears she’d fought so valiantly.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Perseus was one of the swiftest ships in the Markham fleet and Gabby almost cried when she saw it docked in the harbor, even more so when she flung herself into the arms of her captain, Gregory Bynham. Their reunion was warm and happy, and she peppered him with question after question of why a Markham ship was in port on St. Phillippe. It was the first time one ever stopped there.

  “Tore two sails in a storm,” Gregory explained, “and since this was the closest port, here we are.”

  “Here you are, indeed!” Gabby threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. “I suppose it is misfortune for you, but ever so fortunate for me.”

  “I suppose that is the best way to look at it,” Gregory chuckled, “as you, my dear, are a sight for sore eyes. A sight for sore eyes, indeed!” An old childhood friend, he nearly crushed the life from her in a massive bear hug. “When William found out what had happened, he was nearly beside himself with grief.”

  “What happened to the Galatea?” she demanded, her heart almost leaping into her throat with worry over her precious ship.

  “Well, William offered it to Ryan Carmichael as a token of gratitude for his trying to find you.”

  Her warm feeling washed away like sand beneath the tide’s fingers. Stepping back from Gregory, she stared up at him. “What?”

  “He sailed into Nassau, all up in arms about your being set upon in Port Royal by a Spaniard’s crew. Said he gave chase but was outmanned and outgunned.”

  Cold, raw fury poured into her. “He said that, did he? Did he happen to mention the Spaniard’s name?”

  “Thought it was Santa-something… Santa Vera? Santa Ana?”

  Her hands clenching into fists, she supplied, “Santa Cruz, perhaps?”

  Gregory’s pale blue eyes brightened. “Yes! Santa Cruz.” His eyes then narrowed. “Gabby—”

  “That son of a bitch,” Gabby growled as every fiber in every muscle in her body tensed. “And William gave him my ship?”

  “Well, in Hampton’s defense, he did believe you to be dead. Carmichael said he’d last seen you in a longboat, a wave rose up and when it broke, you, the Spaniard and the longboat had all vanished in the direction of the Spaniard’s ship. The ship fired upon the Nereus and Carmichael was outgunned.”

  “Oh, we vanished, Greg. But not quite the way Carmichael would have you believe. Where was he charting a course for when he left Port Royal?” She strode toward the quarterdeck, urgency seeping into her bones. She had to find Carmichael and had to find him now. He would pay when she caught up with him, as she didn’t doubt for a moment she would. The oceans were immense, but she was determined.

  Gregory followed after her. “I must admit, Gabby, I was quite confused when Hampton offered him the Galatea. Up until then, I hadn’t any inkling that Carmichael sailed for Markham. I thought he was the one always trying to sink our fleet.”

  “He was. And I have the feeling he acted with William’s full blessing.” She would have to go to London as well, and deal with her thieving, scheming, waste-of-skin half-brother, but that would wait. Revenge would not.

  “When are you planning to lift anchor?” she asked, leaning forward against the parchment chart spread out over the small, round table in the wheelhouse.

  “Tomorrow morning, with the tide. The mainsail will be up and ready by then.”

  “Good. Have you any inkling where Carmichael was going?”

  “I believe the colonies. Carolina, I think.”

  She glanced down at the chart and nodded. “Set the course for Carolina then, Greg. I’d like to have a bit of a word with Captain Carmichael.”

  While Bynham readied the Perseus for her voyage to the colonies, Gabby made her way from the harbor along one of the narrow roads winding into the thicker jungle of the island’s interior. She asked several people and finally found her way to the Sebastiano villa, nestled high above the harbor, with a breathtaking view of the cove, the harbor and the ocean beyond. Beyond breathtaking, actually. It was beautiful—the vibrant pink rooftops, the pale pink sand and striking sapphire stretch of water that reached to the open ocean.

  The doorknocker was a brass ram’s head, and she wasted no time rapping it smartly against the whitewashed door. A few moments later, she found herself staring down at a slender, dark haired woman with onyx colored eyes and honey colored skin.

  “May I help you?”

  “I would like to speak with Madam Sebastiano.”

  “One moment.”

  The door closed, footsteps died away, only to return moments later. Then the door opened and Gabriella found herself glaring into the stormy silver eyes of Fiona Sebastiano.

  “A word, if you’d not mind,” Gabby barked, ready to grab the lady by the front of her lime green gown and yank her from the house.

  “What do you want?” Fiona’s voice was cold and hard.

  “You win, Fiona. I know you think you have Diego’s best interests at heart, and perhaps you do, but know this—Adeline will make him terribly unhappy. I know it. He knows it. And I think, deep down, you do as well. I am not perfect, nor do I pretend to be. I know I hurt him terribly five years ago. I do not wish to ever do that again, so I am leaving now. For good. I hope you are satisfied. You won, as I said, but in the end, we both know he will have lost.”

  “You nearly crushed him, Gabby.” Fiona folded her arms over her chest as her eyes hardened to match her tone. “And for that, you should suffer every night for the rest of your days. You should always wonder what might have been. Adeline will make him happy. You will see.”

  “I hope for his sake you’re right,” Gabby replied, though she didn’t believe a word she said. “But it will not matter, come tomorrow. Not one bit.”

  “No, it won’t, because you will be on your way to becoming a faint memory and he will have the chance to build the life he should have had with Adeline.”

  That stung, but Gabby bit back her wince. “I know you think that to be true, and I won’t waste breath trying to convince you otherwise. You can sleep well this night knowing you’ve gotten your way.”

  With that, she turned and stalked away from the Sebastiano villa. Fiona remained stonily silent, though Gabby could almost feel her glare burn somewhere between her shoulder blades. She ignored it, though, as she made her way down from the mountainside. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she found herself on the beach again.

  It hadn’t been her original destination, and she shivered in the cold breeze that blew off the water. The sun sank into the horizon, spreading fingers of coral and gold to streak across the sky. It was still warm, but a chill wove through the breeze and as she sank to her knees, the sand was cold. She blinked back those tears even as they pressed harder. She didn’t want to leave, especially didn’t want to leave things the way they were with Diego. It was too late, though, for she’d ruined her chance with him. Ruined it in the time it took to make one hasty decision. Hasty, terrible decisions were apparently a special skill of hers.

  Her sigh was shaky and drawn out and irritation flared as she swiped at the tears that refused to remain behind her eyelids. They streaked down her cheeks, icy in the cool air.

  “Gabby?”

  For one ecstatic moment, she thought the deep voice above her was Diego’s. Then Greg lowered to the sand beside her, and her heart sank. “What is it?”

  “Nothing, Greg.” Another swipe at her cheeks, this one with more emphasis. The last thing she wanted or needed, was word of her sobbing on the beach like a baby getting out.

  “Don’t tell me nothing.” His arm eased about her shoulder and his hold tightened to pull her against him. “I can’t recall the last time I saw Gabriella Markham shed a tear. What is it?”

  “Tomorrow cannot get h
ere soon enough. That’s what it is.” She stared out over the water. The waning light skipped across the gentle waves to make them sparkle brilliantly. There was so much beauty around her, really. Who knew Hell could be disguised as paradise? “I need to put as much distance between me and this godforsaken island as possible.”

  “I know you are in a hurry to confront Hampton and Carmichael—”

  “No,” she broke in, shaking her head, “this has nothing to do with William or Carmichael. It—I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Greg gave her a gentle squeeze. “We don’t have to talk about anything, Gabby.”

  She leaned her head against him as the only sound was the water as it lapped at the shoreline and the boats moored in the harbor. The harbor vendors were closing up their shops for the evening and children were being called inside for supper. Every now and again, raucous laughter spilled out of the dockside taverns, and the occasional scuffle broke out, but for the most part, it was peaceful.

  So many emotions warred within her. It would be so easy to find Diego, to simply give in to that desire burning so brightly inside her. It would be all too easy to fall into his arms and lose herself in the pleasures of making such passionate love with him.

  Unfortunately, their differences would rise up with the sun. If they could only remain in bed forever…

  Somewhere in the distance, a flag snapped in the wind and she lifted her head to take a deep breath. “Have you ever done something you regretted with every fiber of your being?”

  He let out a dry laugh. “Is there anyone out there who hasn’t?”

  “Greg.”

  His laughter died. “I’m sorry, Gabby.”

  “Well, I did that five years ago. And just last night, I had the opportunity to right it and do you know what I did?”

  His hand tightened on her shoulder. “I can wager a guess.”

  “I made the very same mistake. Again.” She laughed without humor, swiping at her cheeks again. “Do you believe that? How great a fool am I, to make the same foolish mistake?”

  “What happened?”

  “I’ve no desire to discuss it.” A final swipe and she slapped her palms against her legs. “I need to find clothing that fits me. This—” she pulled at the turquoise and coral linen gown, “—does not belong on me.”

  Gregory smiled. “I think it suits you fine, Gabby. You hardly look like the infamous Captain Markham.”

  “Which is exactly why it must go,” she muttered, brushing the sand from her hands and rising to her feet. “What time do you plan to sail?”

  “With the sun. If you wish, you are welcome to come aboard this eve. I’ll have Fletcher ready Eddie’s cabin.”

  “What happened to Eddie?”

  Gregory grinned as he rose up beside her. “The fool run off and got married on me in Nassau not a month ago. Him and Rudy both. The only blessing in it is that now I’ve an empty cabin with your name on the door.”

  “And a blessing it is.” She sighed softly, turning back toward the sea. St. Phillippe was a veritable paradise, a small jewel in the Caribbean, and she could understand why Diego loved coming back to it. If things were different, she could easily fall in love with this place, could easily call it home. If only—

  A heaviness weighted her heart as she twisted and her gaze reached up the hillside, in the same direction as the Sebastiano villa. Perhaps Diego’s home was near there, nestled in those lush, green hills. She didn’t know for certain, but he had to live somewhere on the island, and that was as likely a place as any other. It was just as well she didn’t know, for her next question made her stomach flip over and send bile rising in her throat. Was he alone?

  “Gabby?”

  Gregory’s voice sliced through her thoughts and she spun back to him. “Yes?”

  “Where were you?”

  “I am here.” She forced the uncomfortable thoughts from her mind as she looked up at Gregory. “If you have some coins to spare, there are a few things I need in town before the shops all close. Then I will be on board.”

  He nodded, plucking a small oilskin sack from his hip to drop into her hand. “Take whatever you need from it. Meanwhile, I will tell Anthony to expect an extra body for supper then.”

  “I thank you.” She closed her fingers over the sack, then stepped around him to make her way back up to the walkway. It wouldn’t be long before the small shops lining the narrow streets would be closed, and there were a few very important items she needed before she put St. Phillippe far behind her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Diego snapped back to attention as Adeline waved a hand before his eyes. “Diego? Are you even listening?”

  “I beg your pardon, of course.” He sat back in his chair and stretched both legs beneath the table. His right leg ached, despite how nicely the wound healed. Only a jagged scar remained as a permanent reminder, and it still pained him off and on. But that pain was nothing compared to the tightness in his chest whenever his mind wandered back to the moonlit beach, when Gabby walked away from him for the second time.

  A restlessness plucked at his insides, one he’d never felt before. His house, the island, were too small, too confining. That Adeline spent every free moment taking care of him… Well, he wanted to just leave. He didn’t care where he went, didn’t care what he did, he simply needed to crawl out from under her smothering.

  She sat across from him, her dark hair pulled back in a severe braid, her dark eyes glittering in the candlelight as she bustled around to clear the small table. Though they had only just finished their meal, he couldn’t recall what she served.

  A tankard of rum sat before him and he curled his fingers about the handle to lift it to his lips for a much-needed swallow. As he lowered it, he found Adeline watching him intently. “What is it?”

  She sighed. “You are still so thin. You look sickly.”

  “It will take some time. Remember, there were precious little resources on that island. We ate mostly fruit and fish.”

  She sniffed. “Do not remind me.”

  A long, heavy sigh worked its way up from somewhere deep within his gut. “What troubles you, Adeline? You have been in a mood since you arrived.”

  “A mood? Well, yes, I suppose I have been.” As she spoke, she rose to gather the soiled dishes. “You’ve been back nearly two weeks and you’ve done nothing but mope about since your return. I should think you would be overjoyed to be off that terrible island and back into civilization.”

  “Of course I am.” He traced his forefinger along the tankard’s rim. “I far prefer knowing where my next meal is coming from, that I have clean clothing to wear and a soft bed to sleep in.”

  She paused in the doorway leading from the dining room to the kitchen, and affixed him with a long, hard stare. “That is not what I mean.”

  “Please, tell me we are not going to get into this again.”

  “Diego.”

  “Dios mio,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Must we? I grow weary of assuring you that I am not thinking about Captain Markham.”

  Dishes clattered in the kitchen, most likely unceremoniously dumped into the washtub filled with water. A loud splash accompanied the clatter. Adeline took her displeasure with him out on his dishes, and he only hoped some survived the encounter.

  If he spent the better part of two weeks pining for Gabby, Adeline spent the same amount of time trying not-so-subtly to coax an invitation to his bed from him. Every eve, she appeared on his doorstep, arms laden with the makings of a delicious meal. And every evening, once supper was finished, she dropped not-so-subtle hints, her gaze flicking constantly toward the narrow corridor leading to his bedchambers.

  Where once he spent many a pleasant hour with her behind the closed bedchamber door, now, he had no desire. And it wasn’t just Adeline. It seemed that not a single woman on the entire island tempted him at all. At first, he tried to shrug it off as exhaustion from the weeks on the island, the pains in his leg, the need for
sleep. But, as time dragged on, he came to the realization that there was one woman he practically ached for, one who drove him mad with desire. Unfortunately, she was far beyond arm’s reach.

  Adeline appeared in the doorway, brows drawn into a frown. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to bring you back into the present.”

  “Addy, have you any inkling as to how difficult, how tiring, it is when you’ve only yourself to rely on for food, for shelter, for—”

  “But you had her to rely on as well.” Contempt practically dripped from that one word as Adeline came around the table to stand behind her chair, across from him. Her fingers curled over the chair’s back, the knuckles white as she added, “And somehow, I cannot believe it was all so terrible.”

  “Why do you insist on bringing this up at every turn?” He didn’t even try to keep the irritation from his voice. “Why?”

  “Because you refuse to answer.”

  “You are not my wife, Adeline. And you hardly behave as the grieving widow, either.”

  “And you know why I married Guillermo. Ours was not a love match.” She drew out the chair to sink into it. Her elbows rested on the table, her chin rested on one hand, and she added, “I made a mistake in trying to force your hand the way I did. A terrible mistake.”

  As she reached for his hand, he pulled back. “Addy, that was five years ago. Much has changed since then.”

  “What? What’s changed?”

  “Me. You. Everything.”

  Her hand went flat against the table and she sighed softly. “Diego, if I ask you something, will you answer me true?”

  “I’ve yet to lie to you about anything you’ve asked me.”

  She nodded slowly. “No, I don’t suppose you have. But, I’ve made my feelings clear. I have loved you since the moment I saw you, back on Barbados, and I was a fool to do what I did with Guillermo. If I had it to do all over again, I would do it differently.”