Caribbee Part 51

"Why won't you tell me?" She pa.s.sed her hand across his chest. Beneath the bronze she could feel the faint pumping of his heart. "I want to know all about you, to have all that to think about when you're gone.

We're so much alike, in so many ways. I feel I have a right to know even the smallest little things about you."

"I tried to shoot one of them. One of the Cow-Killers." He turned and ripped off a blade of gra.s.s, then crumpled it in his hand and looked away.

"Well, I'm sure that's not the first time such a thing has happened. I expect you had good reason. After all . . ."

"The difference was who I tried to kill." He rolled over and stared up at the vacant sky. It was deep blue, flawless.

"What do you mean? Who was it?"

"You probably wouldn't know." He glanced at her. "Ever hear of a man who goes by the name of Jacques le Basque?"

"Good G.o.d." She glanced at him in astonishment. "Isn't he the one who's been pillaging and killing Spaniards in the Windward Pa.s.sage for years now? In Bridgetown they say the Spaniards call him the most bloodthirsty man in the Caribbean. I'm surprised he let you get away with it."

"I didn't escape entirely unscathed." Winston laughed. "You see, he was leader of the Cow-Killers back then. I suppose he still is."

"So what happened?"

"One foggy morning we had a small falling out and I tried a pistol on him. It misfired." He pushed back her hair and kissed her on the cheek.

"Did you know, Katy, that the sun somehow changes the color of your eyes? Makes them bluer?"

She grabbed his hand and pushed him back up. "You're trying to shift the topic. I know your tricks. Don't do that with me. Tell me the rest."

"What do you suppose? After I made free to kill him, he naturally returned the favor." Winston stroked the scar on his cheek. "His pistol ball came this close to taking off my head. That's when I thought it healthy to part company with him and his lads." He traced his tongue down her body and lightly probed a nipple. It blushed pink, then began to harden under his touch.

"No, you don't. Not yet. You'll make me lose track of things." She almost didn't want him to know how much she delighted in the feel of his lips. It would give him too much power over her. Could she, she wondered, ever have the same power over him? She had never yet kissed him all over, the way she wanted, but she was gathering courage for it.

What would he do when she did?

She reached up and cradled his face in her hands. The tongue that had been circling her nipple drew away and slowly licked one of her fingers. She felt herself surrendering again, and quickly drew her hand back. "Talk to me some more. Tell me why you tried to kill him."

"Who?"

"The man you just said." She frowned, knowing well his way of teasing.

Yes, Hugh Winston was quite a tease. In everything. "Just now. This Jacques le Basque."

"Him? Why did I try to kill him?" He pecked at her nose, and she sensed a tenseness in his mouth. "I scarcely remember. It's as though the fog that moming never really cleared from my mind. As best I recall, it had something to do with a frigate." He smiled, the lines in his face softening. Then he slipped an arm beneath her and drew her next to him.

Her skin was warm from the sun. "Still, days like this make up for a lot in life. Just being here. With you. Trouble is, I worry I'm beginning to trust you. More than I probably ought."

"I think I trust you too." She turned and kissed him on the lips, testing their feel. The tenseness had vanished, as mysteriously as it had come. She kissed him again, now with his lips meeting hers, and she wanted to crush them against her own. Gone now, all the talk. He had won. He had made her forget herself once again. "I also love you, and I know you well enough by now to know for sure that's unwise."

She moved across him, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. Would he continue to hold back, to keep something to himself, something he never seemed willing--or able--to give? Only recently had she become aware of it. As she learned to surrender to him more and more fully, she had slowly come to realize that only a part of him was there for her.

Then the quiet of the lagoon settled around them as their bodies molded together, a perfect knowing.

He pulled her against his chest, hard, as he knew she liked to be held.

And she moved against him, instinctively. She felt herself wanting him, ready for that most exquisite moment of all. She slipped slowly downward, while he moved carefully to meet her. Her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s were still pillowed against his chest.

She gasped lightly, a barely discernible intake of breath, and closed her eyes as she slowly received him. Her eyes flooded with delight and she rose up, till her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swung above him like twin bells. "This is how I want to stay. Forever." She bent back down and kissed him full on the mouth. "Say you'll never move."

"Not even like this . . .?"

Now the feel of her and the scent of her, as she enclosed him and worked her thighs against him, fully awoke his own desire. It had begun, that need both to give and to take, and he sensed in her an intensity matching his own. So alien, yet so alike.

Gradually he became aware of a quickening of her motions against him, and he knew that, at this instant, he had momentarily ceased to exist for her; he had lost her to something deeper. She leaned closer, not to clasp him but to thrust her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against him, wordlessly telling him to touch the hard buds of her nipples. Then the rhythms that rippled her belly shifted downward, strong and driven. With small sounds of antic.i.p.ation she again rose above him, then suddenly cried aloud and grasped his body with her hands, to draw him into her totally.

This was the moment when together they knew that nothing else mattered.

As he felt himself giving way to her, he felt her gasp and again thrust against him, as though to seize and hold the ecstasy that had already begun to drift beyond them.

But it had been fleeting, ephemeral, and now they were once more merely man and woman, in each other's arms, amidst the sand,and gently waving palms. Finally she reached up and took his hands from her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her eyes resigned and bewildered. He drew her to him and kissed her gently, to comfort her for that moment now lost to time.

Then he lifted her in his arms and lay her against the soft gra.s.s, her body open to him. He wanted this woman, more than anything.

The afternoon sky was azure now, the hue of purest lapis lazuli, and its scattering of soft white clouds was mirrored in the placid waters of the lagoon. He held her cradled in his arms, half dozing, her face warm against his chest.

"Time." His voice sounded lightly against her ear.

"What, darling?"

"It's time we had a look around." He sat up and kissed her. "We've got to go back where we left the horses, and get our clothes and boots." He turned and gazed toward the dark outcrop of rocks that rose up from the center of the island. "Then I'd like to go up there, to try and get some idea what the sh.o.r.eline looks like on the windward side."

"Want to swim back?" She stared up at him, then rubbed her face against his chest. As she rose she was holding his hand and almost dancing around him.

"You swim back if you like. For myself, I think I'm getting a bit old for such. What if I just walked the sh.o.r.e?"

"Oh, you're old, to be sure. You're ancient. But mostly in your head."

She grabbed his hand. "Come on."

"Well, just part way." He rose abruptly, then reached over and hoisted her into his arms. He bounced her lightly, as though she were no more weighty than a bundle of cane, and laughed at her gasp of surprise.

"What do you know! Maybe I'm not as decrepit as I thought." He turned and strode toward the sh.o.r.eline, still cradling her against his chest.

"Put me down. You're just showing off."

"That's right." They were waist deep when he balanced her momentarily high above the water and gave a shove. She landed with a splash and disappeared, only to resurface sputtering. "Careful, Katy, or you'll frighten the angelfish." He ducked the handful of water she flung at him and dived head first into the sea. A moment later he emerged, stroking. "Come on then, you wanted to swim. Shall we race?"

"You'll regret it." She dived after him like a dolphin and when she finally surfaced she was already ahead. She yelled back, "Don't think I'll let you win in the name of pride."

He roared with laughter and moved alongside her. "Whose pride are we talking about, mine or yours?"

And they swam. He was always half a length behind her, yelling that he would soon pa.s.s her, but when they reached the point along the sh.o.r.e even with their clothes, she was still ahead.

"Now shall I carry you ash.o.r.e. Captain?" She let her feet touch the sandy bottom and turned to watch him draw next to her. "You're most likely exhausted."

"d.a.m.n you." He stood up beside her, breathing heavily. "No seaman ever lets himself get caught in the water. Now I know why." He seized her hand and glanced at the sun. It was already halfway toward evening.

"Come on, we're wasting time. I want to reconnoiter this d.a.m.ned island of yours before it's too dark."

She pulled him back and kissed him one last time, the waters of the lagoon still caressing them. "Hugh, this has been the loveliest day of my life. I'll remember it always." She kissed him again, and now he yielded, enfolding her in his arms. "Can we come back? Soon?"

"Maybe. If you can find time amidst all your marriage negotiations." He ran his hand over her smooth b.u.t.tocks, then gave her a kiss that had the firmness of finality. "But now we go to work, Katy. Come on."