First Comes Desire by Tina Donahue

Author:Tina Donahue [Donahue, Tina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Historical, Erotica, Fiction, Romance
Publisher: Kensignton Publishing Corp.
Published: 2017-02-06T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Vincent’s rage built at the endless, unproductive search, Tristan and Diana still out of reach. He’d been so certain they’d be on this isle, he had the men comb the remaining vegetation in the dark. One had fallen into a pit, the tumble breaking his spine. Careless fool. Served him right that the crew left him there for the animals and birds to finish off.

As to Tristan, this had been the last location he might have rowed to and survived. Yet, they’d found nothing. Vincent ground the heel of his hand into his forehead.

The crew gave him wide berth at the fire. A short distance away, Montgomery sprawled over the sand, having enjoyed too much rumfustian. His hearty snores matched his overwhelming girth.

Filthy pig. Vincent had a new plan for the captain, which didn’t include Diana or the ransom. He’d have those prizes for himself. All he had to do was find his damned quarry.

Fury flared. He drew his pistol and fired.

Someone let out a startled cry. Others looked over. A lemur fell from a tree behind them.

Vincent shoved his pistol back into the brace across his chest. “Cook it.”

Two men fetched the animal.

The sea was a great black mass rolling and licking the beach. Even when Vincent squinted, the Lady Lark was invisible to him, the night too dark, though the ship was out there waiting.

Here, firelight danced over the longboats the crew had used to reach shore.

The men threw the lemur to the cook, who proceeded to skin the animal. The promise of warm food brought a festive air to the crew. Some played their fiddles and reeds. Others traded tales. Vincent made no move to stop them or join in, his attention on the longboats. They were much larger than the skiff Tristan had used in his escape.

Damp wind trailed over Vincent’s unshaven jaw. His yellow scarf fluttered.

The younger men danced. The older ones drank.

Vincent’s pulse beat hard. There were islands in these parts few vessels could get near, which meant a man had to use the smallest craft possible. No wonder Tristan had taken the skiff.

Vincent laughed heartily, startling many in the crew. Knowing what his next move would be, he ignored their fearful looks. Come morning, he would implement his plan.

* * * *

Diana waited for Tristan in their bedchamber. He never came back. She worried herself into a fitful sleep and a nightmare in which his crew was on the island stalking them.

She awakened with a start, heartsick at the empty space next to her. Morning light spilled into the room. Dressed in her canvas trousers and Tristan’s shirt, she left the bedchamber and ran from room to room. He wasn’t in any of them. She rushed to Canela’s chamber but didn’t enter. He couldn’t be inside. No matter his anger or whatever else he’d felt when they last spoke, he wouldn’t betray her.

She hurried to Peter’s room, rapped once on the door, and opened it.

His arm hid his face. His upper lip fluttered with soft snores.

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