Page 28 of The Summons (Legend of the King’s Ring #1)

E

meline wanted to resist. She did! She wanted to slap the rogue pirate and storm from his cabin. She wanted to….

But chains wrapped about her heart…her body, holding her a prisoner in his arms. The bulkheads, the deck, the furniture, the windows all faded away as if they’d been but a dream, and she’d finally entered reality.

Heavenly sensations swirled down to her toes, then spun back up again, sending her heart leaping, her breath heaving, and resurrecting an urge within her to become a part of this man, spirit, soul and…body.

Pressing her closer, he explored her mouth with such tenderness, such desire, her legs grew weak. He caressed her back, ran fingers over her cheek, then encased her in his arms once again. She’d never felt so safe, so cherished as she did in that moment.

And so out of control!

She sensed his need for her growing, and planting her palms on his chest, she nudged him back.

Withdrawing, he leaned his forehead against hers, their heated breaths mingling in the air between them.

“I’d say that settles it, don’t you?” His voice was coarse with desire.

What was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking. This had naught to do with thoughts or logic or reason. This had everything to do with her heart and the waves of pleasure still flowing over her entire body. She wanted more of this man, more of every part of him. And she hated herself for it.

She wanted to say it settled nothing, but she now knew that, regardless that this man was a power-greedy, lecherous pirate, regardless he had kidnapped her and kept her captive, regardless he most definitely was not the hero in the romance she’d always dreamed of…

She loved him.

But would her love be enough? Or was he merely toying with her girlish emotions? As no doubt he had with many a female before her.

Drawing back, she raised her gaze to his.

What she saw in his eyes nearly sent her careening backward—love, care, affection, Not lust, nor playfulness, but a seriousness, a determination. He ran a thumb over her moist lips and gave her a sultry smile. “You have me quite smitten, my little sugar bird.”

Smitten ? No one had ever been smitten by her. But smitten was not love, and she would not settle for less from the hero in her story.

When she didn’t respond, he added, “You cannot hide your affection for me, Emeline. ’Tis written on your face, burning in your eyes, and shouting from the heat of your passion.”

She lowered her gaze. “Passion is not love. Perhaps you confuse the two.”

He cupped her chin with his fingers and raised her eyes to his. “Perhaps ’tis you who are confused, for I have known passion. But I have not known love until this moment.”

Love .

She studied those almond-shaped eyes of his, searching for insincerity, for any hint of mirth to expose his deceit. All she saw was a depth of emotion that nearly made her leap back into his arms.

“Tell me you feel the same, Emeline. I know you do.”

She hesitated, unsure whether the truth would help or hurt. But how could she deny it? Finally, she whispered, “I do.”

His grin was wide as he reached out and drew her close once again.

She allowed his embrace, enjoying the feel of his strength cocooning her, sheltering her. Could this man be the hero of whom she’d always dreamed?

“Blake.” Pushing from him, she gripped his arms. “I beseech you, give up this mad quest for the Ring.”

Frowning, he shrugged from her embrace and retreated to his desk. Picking up his glass, he took a sip.

“Don’t you see?” she continued, praying their love would be enough for him to change his ways. “The power you seek is all a delusion. It will corrupt you. It will never be enough, never give you the joy and peace you seek. Neither will it shield you from the betrayal of others, as you hope.” She gave him a pleading look. “Leave the Ring. Let it go. Take me home and meet my family. You’ll like them.” In truth, she hoped her father or grandfather could divert Blake onto a more godly path.

Tossing the rest of the rum into his mouth, he slammed down the glass. “But will they like me ? Besides, what would a reprobate like me do with a bunch of missionaries?”

She felt as though a boarding axe had embedded in her heart. “You don’t have to be that man anymore.”

He turned to stare at the moonlit waves out the windows. “You fell in love with this reprobate. Or so you say. I will not change for you or anyone.”

Emotion burned in Emeline’s throat. She forced back tears. “Then will you keep your promise to take me back to Jamaica?” For she knew now there could be no future between them.

He faced her, the affection gone from his eyes, replaced by pain and a resolve that would not be put off. “After I get the Ring. You have my word, Emeline, and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

b

Blake planted his boots on the heaving deck and gripped the quarterdeck railing as the Summons crested a foam-capped swell. Morning sunlight cast swaths of golden lace upon both ship and sea, creating a masterpiece more beautiful than those hanging in his gallery. He smiled. Wind whipped over him, and he inhaled the familiar scent of brine and freedom. This was the life he’d chosen. Freedom to do what he wished and the power to rule the seas.

“Loose head and topsails!” he shouted, then gripping the lion medallion, he turned to Rummy. “Two points to larboard. Full and by.”

The helmsman nodded and adjusted course, while his new bosun Layton sent men up into the ratlines to unfurl tops for maximum speed. ’Twas a vast ocean to cover in order to find Josephine, but he knew her well, knew her haunts and hunting grounds. ’Twas only a matter of time before he found her.

He grimaced, forcing down his rage for the time being, reserving it for the witch—the witch who had used and murdered Maston, among many other vile things. Yet Blake’s anger at the Frenchman had abated the minute he’d ordered his body tossed overboard at dawn. ’Twas not a just fate for the simple crime of loving a woman, albeit the wrong woman, an evil woman.

However, Blake’s murderous thoughts vanished the moment an angel in blue skirts emerged from the companionway and made her way to the starboard railing. Her chestnut hair blew in silken strands behind her while every ray of sunlight diverted course and landed on her, glittering in her hair, shimmering across her gown, and sparkling over her skin as if she were not from this world.

Blinking, Blake cursed himself for the ludicrous thoughts. Then why did every one of his crew stop to stare at her?

“Back to work!” he shouted over the crash of waves and blast of wind. Still, she would not look his way.

For the first time in weeks, he’d slept deep and sound. No nightmares plagued him, no phantom demons infiltrated his cabin. Just as Emeline had said, ’twas the Ring which opened the gates of hell. Was it causing Josephine the same distress? He hoped so.

With all canvas spread to the favoring breeze, the Summons cut through the azure sea, plunging into the rollers and sending spray back over the deck in brilliant showers. Snapping hair from his face, Blake gripped the railing and closed his eyes, listening to the creak and moan of the ship, the dash of the sea against the hull. Music as soothing as any violin.

Emeline. Only her presence had controlled the dark side of the Ring, but he could no longer keep her prisoner against her will. She deserved so much better than that.

She deserved so much better than him.

Charlie approached the lady and leaned on the railing beside her and the two women began conversing. Their laughter bubbled over Blake like a soothing elixir as Bandit dropped from the ratlines beside them. Scooping him up in her arms, Emeline nestled her cheek against his hairy forehead, eliciting a wide grin and joyful screech from the beast. And a surge of jealousy within Blake. Absurd!

He looked away. He’d kissed her. Deeply and passionately. ’Twas like no other kiss he’d ever experienced, for it touched a part of him far deeper than his flesh, a part of him no one had ever touched before. Even worse, he’d declared his love! When he’d vowed long ago never to show such weakness again, never to put himself in a vulnerable position where he could be harmed, cast away, or betrayed.

The Summons leapt over a mighty swell, sending a spray of salty water over him, cooling his humor. By his admission of love, he’d given her power. And what did she do with it? She tried to convince him to give up his quest for the Ring. The most alarming part was that—for a brief moment—he’d wanted to. If only to please her. Scads! Her goodness was infecting him! And he must not allow that.

Pedro eased on her other side. Tousling his wavy hair, she gave him a hug. A hug? Pirates didn’t hug! Nay! As soon as he retrieved the Ring, he would honor his vow and take her home. Before his entire crew became a band of jingle-brained do-gooders.

Or worse, missionaries!

At that very moment, as if she sensed his thoughts, she glanced at him over her shoulder. The tender look she gave him, along with her gentle smile, nearly broke through his resolve to do anything but love her for the rest of his days.

Thankfully, “A sail, a sail!” trumpeted down from the lookout at the crosstrees, interrupting his dangerous thoughts.

Plucking the spyglass from his belt, Blake leveled it on the horizon, shifting it to the left when the lookout added, “Off the larboard bow!”

There, in the distance and barely discernable, were the swollen white curves of several sails. Too far to know to what ship they belonged.

“Helms alee, Rummy!” Blake ordered, then shouted down to Finn and Layton. “Stations for the stays! Rise tacks and sheets! Slow and steady.”

Within seconds, the Summons tacked aweather, its bow plunging and rising in the foamy surf.

Balancing on the pitching deck, Blake lifted the glass to his eye, searching for an ensign, a name on the bow, anything to identify what ship it was. Pirates, merchants? Or was it the ship he sought?

Minutes passed like hours. Thus far, it appeared they’d not spotted the Summons . Good.

Blake shifted the glass to the hull where the crest of Jesuits came clearly into view, along with the name Guerrieri Della Croce . Hang it! ’Twas Della Morte’s ship. As much as he’d like to engage the impudent mule and send him to the depths, he had not the time. La Sorcière was his target.

Swinging the scope to the ship’s deck, he focused on the men rushing across it, having no doubt seen Blake by now. That’s when he saw her. Hair the color of the night flailing in the wind and the black leather of Josephine’s pirate attire.

Confusion tore through him, sending his thoughts into a whirlwind, seeking an answer, any answer, aside from the only one that made sense. Josephine and Della Morte were working together.

“They’ve all canvas to the wind and are heading our way, Cap’n!” Finn shouted from the main deck.

Blake ground his teeth. Too late to hang back and follow them, discover where they would drop anchor, and steal the Ring on land. For ’twould be far more difficult a task at sea. Regardless, he had no other recourse save the one set before him—fight or die.

b

Della Morte growled his displeasure. “You are quite sure, Josephine?”

“ Oui , ’tis him. I know his paltry brig anywhere.” She handed him the spyglass. “Look for yourself.”

His gaze dropped to the Ring on her finger, sparkling in the morning sun. “But we have the Ring, mia cara . Why bother with him?”

“Because he’s a swaggering princox, a rapacious whiffet!” she spat back. “I want him dead.” She uttered a blasphemous curse. “ En fait , he should be dead! Why didn’t my spell kill him? I put my strongest hex on him, one that should have overpowered any trick of my enemy!”

The witch gave Della Morte pause. The sooner he was rid of her, the better. He took Josephine’s hand and brought it to his lips. Their night together had been more than satisfying, but the woman had outlived her usefulness. She’d retrieved the Ring for him, for which he was eternally grateful. As an added benefit, she was an excellent lover. Though now it was time for her to hand over the powerful relic.

Trouble was, she was being stubborn….hesitant. Typical female. The lot of them useless except for one thing. Of course he had promised her not only his undying devotion and love, but that she could use the Ring for a few months to acquire the wealth she needed before he must take it to the Pope. In the meantime, they would scour the seas and amass such a fortune they’d never have to lift another finger. They would be together forever. Or so he’d vowed.

Trouble was, none of that was true. Goose-witted women. They were so easily duped by flatteries and tender words of affection.

She snagged her hand back. “Go after him, you idiot!”

Della Morte ground his teeth, unaccustomed to such disrespect. “Very well. If you insist. I shall enjoy this, mia cara . Finally, I will destroy this ill-bred pirate and his pious chit once and for all!”

Grinning, she gripped the hilt of her rapier. “This shall be fun! Our first conquest together, mon chéri .”

“First of many.” He kissed her on the cheek before uttering orders to prepare for battle.