Face to Face by Susan Ward

Author:Susan Ward
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2014-10-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Merry saw Jean Lafitte for the first time at sunset. He was alone on the fortress canon wall, lying in a hammock, one leg extended, the other bent and dangling in a lazy swing over the side of woven ropes. Around his head was tied a colorful scarf and from his ear a gold loop sparkled. Through the parted buttons of his flowing shirt peeked a chest firm and tanned, which flowed into narrow hips beneath a wide leather belt sporting a cutlass. His well-muscled legs ended in high-cut boots.

He was a magnificent figure of a man, though she would not have called him handsome, but she doubted women realized he was not a fine looking man when they were with him.

Merry suspected his present pose was crafted for affect, allowed herself to wondered if all pirates existed on half drama, and was sure the erotic love song he sang, as his fingers teased the cords of a mandolin, was intended deliberately to shock her. The words, French, were scandalous.

She stood in the fading mauve light, moved by the sadness and beauty of the song he sang on a seductively low voice. He pretended not to notice her, though she knew he was aware of her. She could feel him studying her, though his eyes never sought her. Was that a pirate trick as well? Varian had used the same trick often.

Once the song was done and she was held in the electrifying hold of his gaze. “Ah, la petite. I am Jean Lafitte. Welcome to Barataria.”

He sprang from the hammock with zeal and soon her hand was against his lips.

“Morgan did not lie. You are most beautiful, but too young to be the mistress of such a legendary man. A woman so young and so beautiful should only be a wife of such a man.” His dark eyes were glowing now. “Do you know why?”

Merry calmly arched a brow. She been aboard the Corinthian too long, had experienced Varian in every mood and drama, to be knocked off her feet by Lafitte, or the grim realization Varian had provided her no dignity with the admission she was his mistress.

“I could not guess. Perhaps you will tell me.”

Smiling, he leaned a step closer to her. “Men fight duels over their mistresses. And with one as beautiful as you the Captain will have to fight many duels.”

She met his stare directly. “No, sir, he will not have to fight a single duel since I am not a foolish girl and he is not a man to toy with.”

Jean threw back his head and laughed. “Touché.” As he guided her into the main room of the fortress, he looked over his shoulder at Varian. “Ah, Morgan. You did not tell me she was clever as well as beautiful. It should make for a more interesting party.”

Jean showed her into a great room, which Merry suspected was intended to give the fortress a courtly gathering space, and she stood for a moment under a garish chandelier.

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