Master of Moonspell (A Dangerous Hearts Romance), page 21
The silence became oppressive and he glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyebrow lifting in a silent query.
“What I’m puzzled about is why you kiss me and then try to push me away with your talk of murder,” she said.
“No more puzzled than I am.” He leaned his back against the doorjamb and ran a hand through his midnight hair. “I suppose I don’t want to ruin you. One of the things I like best about you is your innocence. I fear that I’ll take that from you and not be able to forgive myself.”
His honest admission touched her, and she moved closer to him. He’d come from the fields, and he smelled of sunlight and moist soil. His shirt laces were loose, his collar open. She could see the bulge of his chest. His skin looked dark in contrast to his white shirt. Dark and delicious. She moistened her lips with her tongue, recalling the taste of him, and she knew a fine craving.
“You forget that, while I am innocent in some things, I’ve not been kept under glass. I’m a woman who knows herself and her own mind.”
“Do you now?” Amusement sparkled in his gray eyes. “A woman of the world, are you?”
“Not that, but I’ve suffered through my share of hardships. I tell myself that being anything more than a governess here is wrong, but then I betray my own sense of propriety by daydreaming about you and by … trying to catch and hold your eye. It’s true, I know little of men and their ways, but I know what I feel, and I feel so wonderful in your arms. Wonderful and … sometimes frightened.”
“Perhaps you should heed the fear, dear governess.”
“I’m not frightened of you,” she amended.
“Then of what?”
“Of letting my heart rule my head. Of doing the wrong thing and making you regret your interest in me. You are interested, aren’t you? You’re not just playing with me? To learn that you’re only amused by me would surely break my heart.”
“You do amuse me …” He watched the shadow of pain flit across her face before he added, “But you also make me hard with wanting.” Buccaneer drew in a long, filling breath. Damn it all, how to make her understand his mercurial moods when he was with her … Or should he explain? Perhaps he should simply tell her to—
“I want you, too. In fact, I think I’m falling in love with you, Buccaneer LaFlamme.”
He brought up a fist and slammed it into the doorjamb. “Don’t say that, Julienne. You’re not falling in love with me. You’re talking about a schoolgirl infatuation and I—”
“Do I look like a schoolgirl to you?” She thrust out her chin and breasts, and her smile was supremely confident. “I know what I feel, and I don’t need you denying it!”
“You just told me that you don’t know about men and their ways—”
“But I do know that I felt something special for you the moment I heard your name.”
He barked a laugh. “Which only proves my point. You fell in love with a name and your image of who was attached to that name, but not with me.”
“You’re wrong. After I met you, I tried to keep my distance, just as you’ve tried to distance yourself from me, but it’s impossible. We’re drawn together just as the day is drawn to the night and the surf is drawn to the sand and—”
“Stop, stop, I beg of you. Your purple prose amuses me, mam’selle, but it has nothing to do with reality. What is real is that I am a man who has had two wives, both of whom have drowned, and one of whom was most certainly murdered. I don’t wish to ensnare you in the uglier aspects of my life. I think you should concentrate on Alissa and keep me at arm’s length.”
“You make that sound so easy.”
“It is.”
“Then why don’t you practice it? You’re the one who kisses me. I don’t recall grabbing you and forcing my tongue into your mouth!”
He stared at her, surprised by her bald statement. “Your honesty is a product of your youth, It’s another thing I would surely destroy, because I am, alas, quite jaded. Life does that to you.”
“Don’t you want me to be honest with you? I want it. I must have it. Wasn’t Magdalena honest and true?”
“Why must you keep bringing her into this?”
“Because she is the yardstick by which I’m being measured.”
He flung her a bitter glance. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“Is it nonsense? You said that she’s still around … in your head or heart or whatever.” She gestured, indicating the Bride’s House. “This was her territory, as well as the first wife’s. I’m reminded by Rosa on a daily basis that I’m a glass bead in comparison to Magdalena’s diamond facets. And every time you get close to me, you use Magdalena’s name as a sticking point, pricking me, prodding me, pushing me away from you. She owns you. Even from the grave, she owns you.”
“Shut up, damn you!” He didn’t know he was yelling until the sound of it hurt his ears. He hadn’t yelled at a woman since … since Maggie. Blast it all! Why did Julienne insist on driving him wild! “She doesn’t own me, but I am reminded often enough that she would be alive today if not for me.”
Julienne bit her lower lip. “Are you saying that … You didn’t kill her. I know you didn’t.” Indecision shimmered in her eyes. “Did you?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
A wicked grin tempted one corner of his mouth. “Ah, she doubts. How can you love a man you think murdered his wife?”
“I don’t think—”
“But you don’t know for certain that I’m not a murdering monster, do you? Perhaps Maggie has a grip on me by way of my conscience, eh? Yes, yes, that sounds romantic and mystical. Just the sort of thing you’d like to tackle.” He straightened from the doorway and moved toward her with a, catlike grace. “I have nightmares because I keep reliving the moment when I placed my hands about her neck, thus.” He slipped his hands over her white skin, his palms pressing against her fragile throat. He felt her swallow convulsively. “Then I squeezed and squeezed, shutting off her voice, her air, until her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out. But still I wasn’t satisfied. I’m a monster, yes? So I squeezed harder until I broke her pretty neck. The rest was easy. I thought of my first wife and how she looked floating out on the reef like a water lily, and wanted to see Maggie out there. I took her to Spirits Cove and dumped her on the rocks out in the sea. She floated so prettily.” The past overtook him, forced him to continue, although his heart was aching fiercely and he could see the fear leaping in Julienne’s soft, brown eyes.
“The next day when I went to the fields, I took a detour. Later I told people it was destiny that made me take that different route. Something guided me to the cove that day, and that’s when I discovered Maggie’s body. People say I put on quite a show. That my face was pale and my cheeks tear-stained as I carried her wet and bloated body into the house. Quite a performance, they say behind my back.” He applied pressure to the pulse leaping in her throat. “Before you tell me you love me again, little jewel, picture yourself floating out there like a limp, lifeless lily.”
“Let go of me.” Her lips barely moved, but the words were distinct, if a bit strangled by the pressure of his hands.
He smiled, wanting to make her see that she wasn’t in love with him. Couldn’t be. “Answer me. Do you still love me, little jewel?”
She moved quick as a snake, stomping his boot with her heel and wrenching free of him. She still clutched the hat he’d given her, and she used it to thrash him about the head and face. He brought up his hands, defending himself without harming her. She continued to hit him with the hat. Her knuckles connected twice with his cheekbone, sending a burning sting through his nose and eyes. Finally she ran out of steam and staggered backward. With one last effort, she flung the hat at him. He caught it, crushing it against his chest.
“Get out of here,” she said, her breath coming in gasps, her bodice heaving with exertion. “I hate you for mocking me!”
The smile tightened on his lips, and self loathing sickened him. “Ah, that’s better.” He glanced at the ruined hat. “Pity you’ve mauled this. Selena would have been ever so grateful to get it, and love would have never entered into it.” With another smirk he marched from her quarters. When the door was shut securely behind him, he released his breath in a long, shaky rush. Knowing that he’d done the right thing didn’t ease his heartache.
His hands closed on the hat and ripped it in half.
The next day Julienne left the Bride’s House and hurried upstairs to Selena’s room. The door was ajar, and she tapped lightly on it before pushing it open. The bed was strewn with clothing. Shoes littered the floor. A steamer trunk sat on the floor, its lid flung back. So it was true.
“Selena?”
Selena’s head popped up from the side of the bed. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Julienne. “What do you want?”
“Alissa just told me that you’re going back to Cuba tomorrow. I hope nothing has happened.” The timing seemed askew to Julienne. Last night Buccaneer had insinuated that he was going to seek Selena’s attentions, so why was Selena leaving now that Buccaneer had decided he would take her up on her blatant invitations?
Selena stood and tossed a pair of shoes on the pile of others. She untied the belt of her wrapper. Under it she wore a matching nightdress of pale blue with indigo lace. “Don’t act as if you’re sorry to see me go. I know that you are relieved. I am leaving you to Buck.”
“I’m not relieved that you’re going. You’re Buccaneer’s guest, not mine.”
“That is true, and it would do you good to remember it. He will have you, but he will not love you. He cannot. Magdalena took what heart he had and stomped it to dust.”
Julienne shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right, but I’m not here to catch Buccaneer LaFlamme. My concern is Alissa.”
“Hah! You are a little liar.” Selena pulled her arms from the wrapper and tossed it onto the bed. “I must have my bath, so why don’t you take yourself from my room?”
Julienne thought the discolored places on Selena’s arms were shadows at first, but they didn’t shift with the light when Selena moved. Julienne sucked in her breath.
“What is wrong now?” Selena asked crossly, then realized what had startled Julienne. She ran her hands up and down her arms. “Get out, I said. I am busy.”
“How did you get those?” Julienne demanded, advancing on her. She grabbed Selena’s hand and straightened out her arm to examine the numerous bruises. One circled her wrist like a bracelet; another spotted her shoulder. There were three bruises on the other.
Selena snatched her hand from Julienne’s grasp. “How do you think I got them?” Mockery glinted in her eyes and a cunning smile curved her lush lips. “I fell.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I am dishing out what you served me.” Selena sniffed with disdain. “Coming in here acting upset because I am leaving, when you and I both know you hate me for standing in your way with Buck.”
“That’s not true, Selena. Did Buccaneer give you those bruises?”
Selena’s smile was supercilious. “What do you think?”
“I want you to tell me.”
“Go to hell.” Selena sat on the bed and unrolled her stockings to reveal even more bruises up her thighs.
“Oh, dear Lord!” Julienne came around to stand in front of her. “Selena, who has done this? What happened? Were you … Did someone violate you?”
“It is my own fault.” Selena gave an uncaring shrug. “Maggie warned me that he doled out pain with his pleasure. I knew what I was getting into, so I have only myself to blame. I don’t regret it, I tell you.” Her black eyes snapped with sudden anger. “Do not pity me! I don’t want your pity, orphan girl. To be with him, I would do it again. These bruises are the price I paid to enter heaven for a few minutes.” Her eyes and mouth went soft. “The other times were heaven, but this last time he was an animal. I touched his anger. He found another me and he …” She blinked and the haziness left her eyes. “As I said, it was my fault. Now, get out.” She threw the stockings into a pile of clothing and marched, nearly naked, to the door. “Ursula, get your lazy backside in here and draw my bath!”
Julienne stood rooted by the memory of something she’d read in Magdalena’s diary about Buccaneer accusing her of having a lover and then getting so angry when she denied it that he ordered her to move out of his bedroom and into the Bride’s House. Had he displayed another jealous rage with Selena?
“I can’t believe that he would do this to you,” Julienne said, shaking her head.
Selena pointed out the door. “This way, please.” She spotted Ursula and gave the maid a jejune expression. “At last! Where have you been all morning? I want my bath and then I want you to pack my things. Hurry up. While you’re at it, show the governess to the door. She is having trouble finding her way out.”
Julienne squashed her mounting irritation and took her leave. “Good-bye, Selena. Have a good journey home.”
Selena slammed the door behind her. Julienne stood for a moment in the hallway, going over what had been said and what had not been said. She heard a door close around the corner and went in that direction. She approached the door with its fancy carving of a ship’s anchor and tapped on the white wood in time with her accelerated heartbeats.
It swung open on smooth, silent hinges, and Buccaneer stood before her, his shirt pulled from his waistband, the laces dangling to expose half of his brawny chest. One thick, inky lock of hair curled on his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot, hooded, gray as thunderheads. Julienne felt her mouth hang open and her stomach muscles quiver with yearning.
“Oui?” His lips formed the word as they would a kiss, and Julienne found she preferred the French affirmation to the English one just because of that.
“I … I …” For a moment, she completely forgot herself.
He made an impatient gesture. “You … you … what? What is it? I am in the middle of changing shirts and then I must meet Cesare at the dock.”
She saw that his shirt was filthy, smeared with green and brown. Vegetation and soil. “What’s happened? Why are you so dirty?”
“Wireworms,” he said, then cursed in French. “They attacked a bed yesterday and destroyed the whole thing. We’re having to tear it up and replant.”
“Oh, no.” She had no idea what wireworms were, but they had destroyed some of Buccaneer’s crop, so she hated them. “Is it bad?”
“Bad enough. The temperature dipped last night and brought them up out of the ground.” As he talked, he grabbed the tail of his shirt and hauled it up and over his head. He balled the shirt in his hands and flung it near the foot of the bed, then strode to the wardrobe cabinet.
Julienne managed to tear her gaze away from him for a few moments to inspect his quarters. They were smaller than she’d thought they’d be. Much smaller than hers. The double bed was draped with a mosquito net, its headboard and footrails of beechnut. The rug beneath her feet was royal blue with a broad red stripe running through it. The matching draperies of blue velvet were drawn back from the windows to let in ample sunlight. Julienne was glad for that, because it allowed her to clearly see the magnificence of Buccaneer’s muscled chest and arms and shoulders. His teak-colored skin looked tough, but warm and supple. She wondered what it would be like to take one of his flat, brown nipples into her mouth.
“What do you want? Something about Alissa?” He shook out a folded shirt.
“No …” What had she wanted?…. Oh, yes. “Selena is leaving.”
“So I’ve heard.”
She averted her gaze to find her courage. “Did you give her those bruises?”
“What bruises? What the hell are you babbling about now? I told you that I am busy and I—”
“She has bruises up and down her arms and on her legs. Do you know how she got them?” Julienne was proud of herself for getting the question past her lips, and relieved that it was over and done with. It was difficult to talk to him when her eyes wanted to worship his body, and her own skin yearned for his touch. Oh, the contradictions! That’s what made it hellish to be around him. Part of her desired him and part of her feared him. Hadn’t she read that same description in Magdalena’s diary the other night?
“Bruises … hmmm.” He scowled, then his brows shot up. “I recall something about … Ah, yes. She and Lorenzo had a spat the other night. He must have gotten rough.”
She wanted to believe him. “Lorenzo? You’re saying that Lorenzo bruised her like that?”
“I’m saying only that they quarreled. He accused her of having another lover, I think.” He pulled the clean shirt down over his head. “She’s leaving in the morning, I’m told.”
Julienne grabbed hold of her courage again. “Did Maggie take a lover?”
He was tucking in his shirt, but he paused a fraction of a second before finishing the task. When he lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes were as cold as granite. “I believe so.”
“Were you jealous?”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Were you?” she persisted.
“Oui, very jealous.” A sinister glint sparked in his eyes. “Do you think that is a good reason for a man to kill his wife?”
She shook her head. “I won’t try to answer that again. It gets me nowhere.” She turned to leave, but saw a jewel-encrusted dirk displayed in a black velvet case on the wall. She paused to admire it. “Was this part of the treasure you found in Spirits Cove?”
He came to stand directly behind her. She could feel his breath patting the back of her neck. “I inherited that from Black Pierre.”
“It wasn’t part of the treasure you found?”
“I told you that there were rumors of treasure buried at Spirits Cove. I never said I uncovered any.”
“So you’re saying that you’ve never found any treasure at the cove?”
