Satan's Slave by Emma Wildes

Author:Emma Wildes
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2011-05-10T16:30:20+00:00

Getting to his feet, he gave her one of his signature slow smiles as he stepped out of his breeches. “Satan is very at home in the sea, my Lady.”

* * * *

For an infamous scalawag, her handsome captor certainly liked a settled routine. Dinner was punctually at eight each evening, the dining room of the spacious plantation house furnished in elegant European style, the crystal and china reminiscent of home. Reaching for her glass of wine, Caroline took a small sip, covertly studying her lover over the rim of the fine crystal. He was a curious mixture of polite, refined gentleman and bold buccaneer, a masterful lover who both shocked and delighted her body…balanced by an almost boyishly sweet courtier who brought her hand-picked flowers in the mornings and whispered tender words as he held her in his arms.

She was beginning, against her will, to actually believe Charles Somerset was sincere when he said he loved her.

If it were true—that they had more between them than a romantic tryst on a tropical island where they pleasured each other freely and without commitment—then there was a future to be considered.

A future she wanted.

With a notorious pirate, she thought wryly, setting down her glass. It was definitely not the aristocratic, settled marriage she had envisioned.

Across the table, the giant beefy man called Henricus boomed with laughter, his black beard bristling in the candlelight. He had dined with them once or twice before during the days since Charles had brought her to Paradise Island and Caroline had grown used to his thick, soft, heavily-accented speech and dry wit; his brutish size and appearance at contrast with the gentle humor in his eyes. This evening, he had brought a companion, a voluptuous brunette with black eyes and olive skin named Cressida, her Greek heritage evident in her coloring and the classic sculpted boldness of her features. Dressed in an emerald gown of the latest fashion, she spoke only a few phrases of English, so she and Caroline conversed mostly in French, speaking vaguely of the food—shellfish bisque, roast pork, a tropical dessert made of coconut and some sort of indigenous creamy fruit—and the weather. It wasn’t until the men excused themselves to go smoke a cheroot outside on the wide veranda facing the ocean that Cressida leaned forward and smiled mischievously. “He is a rare one, your handsome lover, no? The wild and infamous Satan! Bold enough to snatch you off a ship and carry you here…and ardent enough to make you happy. I, too, am lucky to have been taken prisoner by my Henri six years ago.”

A little nonplussed, Caroline toyed with the stem of her glass, and cleared her throat. “Charles and I knew each other back in London . He and my father had a slight…misunderstanding, I believe, over his intentions toward me.”

The young woman gave a sage nod, her black eyes sparkling. “I know this, Henri told me of his master’s passion for you. He said the captain came back from England this time with fire in his eyes and his hand on his sword.

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