Читать книгу Forbidden Desire - Tina Donahue - Страница 10

Chapter 2

The setting sun streaked distant clouds orange, purple, gold, and rose. A mild breeze ruffled palm leaves and delivered wonderful scents: roasted beef, bacon, rice bread, bananas, pineapple, and other island fare for the celebratory feast.

Aimee prayed tonight would turn out joyous for her and Netta. No one could find a better evening for love. She delivered grapes to a courtyard table.

Netta placed a tray with sizzling fish next to the fruit.

Men lit numerous torches. Musicians played their reeds, lutes, and drums. Younger children bounced in place to the tune. The older ones wove in and out of the adults, getting in everyone’s way.

No one scolded. The goddess had created these moments to rejoice over a new life.

Tristan, Diana, and their daughter Merry had yet to leave the birthing room. To Tristan’s delight, the infant had Diana’s dark hair and lovely violet eyes.

Royce and Simone took seats at an empty table. Gavra sat to their side. James handed Willy over to her and settled close. Laure and Peter joined them. They barely stopped kissing to sit.

Heath wasn’t about.

Aimee hoped he hadn’t offered to keep watch for pirates or mariners who might approach the isle. If he did, she’d have to drag Netta to the point on the pretense of bringing him food. Hardly the romantic mood to strike.

She stopped her friend Follie before she passed. “Who watches the shores tonight?”

“Adamo. Zola went with him.”

Of course. Zola adored her man and Adamo would willingly give up the festivities to prove his loyalty. Nearly a year ago, he’d betrayed his people for Canela who’d said she loved and wanted no one except him. All lies. She persuaded him to watch for pirates and direct them to these shores so the islanders could take back the land from Tristan. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d then rule with the pirate capitaine. When Yellow Scarf and his crew had arrived, she’d torn off Adamo’s marriage collar and begged the invaders to murder Tristan for choosing Diana over her. Tristan, James, and the islanders had captured the pirates instead. Canela’s people banished her, Yellow Scarf, and his men to a distant isle where they would serve those people for life.

Children and adults chose their tables here.

Heath strode from the stone house, Tristan’s spirits in hand.

Relief flooded Aimee. Excitement and hard lust filled her too.

Netta padded to the closest table.

Aimee grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

“What are you doing?” Netta twisted her arm. “Let go.”

“In a moment.” Before they chose a table, they needed to know where Heath would sit. “I want to make certain we brought everything out that we should.” She made a show of glancing around.

Netta tapped her foot.

Heath placed the bottles on the table near Royce and sank to the empty bench opposite him.

Given Royce’s scowl, Aimee wasn’t convinced Heath would stay there long.

Royce eyed the brandy. “Some is missing.”

Heath smiled coolly. “Care to smell my breath?”

“Enough.” Simone elbowed Royce and frowned at Heath. “You two bicker worse than the youngest children. Try to get along.”

Royce wrinkled his nose. “With him? Never.”

She jabbed him again. “Have you forgotten how James wanted to shoot you when you brought the white devil here?”

“You mean Bishop.” Peter dragged his hair off his shoulders. Sun had bleached his dark locks and turned his skin golden. “Bloody swine. I haven’t forgotten what Royce did.”

“Nor have I.” James leaned across Gavra and Willy to glare at Royce. “You still deserve a good thrashing.”

He slumped. “I have apologized repeatedly.”

“As I have.” Heath drummed the table. “Unlike Royce, I didn’t know what Bishop had planned. I was an innocent bystander.”

Aimee pulled Netta to the bench. “I believe Heath. He meant no harm.” To hide Netta’s hand, she shoved her sister to his left.

Netta sprawled on the bench, her cloth falling away from her legs.

Heath stared at her thighs. His breathing picked up. “Allow me to help.”

She shrank back.

He lowered his hand. “Are you all right?”

Aimee answered, “She is.”

“I doubt that.” Royce pointed to a faraway table. “There’s room over there.”

Aimee bristled. “Netta and I have a right to sit here. How dare you ask us to leave.”

“Hold on. I haven’t. What I said was meant for him.” He jabbed his thumb at Heath.

“Everyone stays here.” Aimee spoke to her sister. “Go on. Sit. Now.” She blocked her from leaving.

Jaw clamped, Netta swung her legs over the bench.

Aimee lifted her cloth and sat to Heath’s right. “We should forget the past and look to the future.” His clean, musky scent drew her closer. She touched his forearm. Pleasure unlike any she’d known rolled through her. “You must be hungry from carrying so many benches and tables.”

Peter sniffed. “Do be serious. We all did that.”

“Not you.” Netta chuckled. “I saw. I heard.” She made smacking sounds to resemble lovers’ sloppy kisses.

Peter colored worse than Laure did.

Heath’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, as did James’s and Royce’s.

Aimee offered Heath a grape cluster. Juice from the plump fruit splashed his wrist. She resisted an urge to lick the drops. “Netta has a wonderful way of making everyone smile and laugh, no?”

He swallowed his grape and nodded.

“We both like to tease, but she’s much better at it that I am.”

Netta lowered her face. “I am not.”

“You are.” Aimee leaned into Heath. Her breast snuggled against his arm. “Go on, ask her if she is.”

He stared at Aimee’s nipple. His face turned a deeper red than Peter’s had, closer to Netta’s current shade.

Until he and she got over their shyness with each other, as Aimee forced herself to do, none of them would know passion.

Aimee prodded gently. “Ask.”

Netta kept her face down.

Simone, Gavra, and Laure leaned forward, not even breathing as they waited for Heath’s first word. Even Willy had quieted. The men rolled their eyes or shook their heads.

Aimee gave them a hard stare.

Heath cleared his throat. “I don’t have to ask. I’d say Netta does have a splendid sense of humor, which is greatly appreciated. Well done.”

Netta’s eyes rounded, but she managed a smile. “Merci.”

He made an appreciative noise. “I’d say the thanks go to you. What else can you tell us about poor Peter? Something amusing I hope.”

“Always. But I better not.”

“Why?”

“We may never get away from the table. It would take me until sunrise and past to finish.”

Everyone laughed.

Peter drew in his scrawny shoulders. Although tall like a proper Englishman, he’d yet to put muscle on his lean frame. “Are none of you going to eat? Must you stuff your mouths with foul words rather than food?”

James poured his ale. “Indeed we must. Making sport of you is far more enjoyable, unless someone would care to tell Heath what happened with Royce during our last celebration.”

Simone put up her hand. “No one speaks of that again.”

“I will.” Peter crossed his arms over the table. “He tried to teach us the marionette.”

“Minuet.” Royce curled his upper lip. “A marionette is a puppet.”

“No different from how we looked with your foolish dance.”

Netta laughed. “Gavra bounced up and down like a ball. Right, Aimee?”

“She did. Peter and Laure bumped into each other. Like this.” She smacked her fist into her palm. “He nearly knocked her down. Zola and Adamo couldn’t keep up with the steps. One went this way.” She pointed. “The other that way.” She swung her finger. “Some went in circles. A few hopped like birds. If the priest had been here, he would have said the white man’s devil had possessed everyone.”

The women laughed until they couldn’t breathe. The men’s delighted roars shook the benches. Even Royce and Simone joined in.

A pleasant meal followed. Everyone joked, ate, drank. All good friends and part of the island family now.

James caught the last brandy drops on his tongue. “Do we have more of this or are we to deprive ourselves on this grand night? Heath? You’re in charge of spirits. What say you?”

“What else? I’ll bring more. Excuse me.” He eased his leg past Aimee.

His knee grazed her thigh. Riotous heat filled her. She should have moved but couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Netta didn’t give him extra room either. She stared at his muscular arms and back.

Free of the bench, he breathed hard and tramped to the stone house.

“We need more bread and fish.” Aimee stood and grabbed Netta’s hand. “Help me with the trays.”

Royce cleared his throat loudly.

Even if he’d threatened Aimee with his pistol, he wouldn’t have stopped her.

She tugged Netta inside the house and pulled her toward the liquor supplies rather than the kitchen.

Netta resisted. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing to our future since you refuse to.”

“Is this about Heath? It is. No. Release me.”

“In time.” She patted Netta’s hand. “You want him. Never lie about that. I know the truth.”

“That I accept my fate? I have and intend to live alone. I will never have a husband. No children either. Or—”

“How wrong you are. Promise not to leave my side no matter what happens.”

Netta cringed. “What do you plan to do?”

“Give me your word and stay by my side at all times. Do as I do. Please.”

“You ask too much.”

“I only want your happiness and mine. Quiet.”

They’d reached the small storage room lit by a lone oil lamp. The bobbing flame couldn’t eat away the shadows. Stuffy air intensified the musty odor.

Netta sneezed.

Heath spun around and stared. His eyes shone golden in the scant light. Moisture gleamed on his throat and brawny chest.

Words failed Aimee. Her need proved too great to deny. She cupped his bristly cheeks and brought his mouth to hers.

He inhaled sharply.

Sagged against him, she drowned in his heat, savored his scent, and parted her lips.

His tongue filled her and explored.

She did the same with him. The tastiest food had never satisfied as he did, his clean taste indescribable and pure man. The same as his whiskered cheeks rasping hers. No weapon could have made her feel safer than he did. He gentled his brute strength and held her carefully.

Her ears buzzed. She came alive as she never had, wreathed her arms around his shoulders, and pressed close.

The prominent bulge between his legs nudged her mound. Her sex responded and grew damp, congested, wanting of him.

The same as Netta’s surely did. Aimee knew her sister too well to believe anything else. Reluctant to leave his embrace, Aimee nevertheless pulled away and snatched what breath she could.

Her moisture shone on his lips. Carnal hunger burned in his eyes.

She stepped aside and left him to Netta. The only woman she would ever share him with.

* * * *

Netta had always believed the moment Aimee and Heath embraced, she’d bolt and would banish their intimate moments from her mind.

Her legs barely supported her. Unable to flee, she froze.

Heath pulled her into his arms and claimed her lips, his mouth hard yet tender, his beard-roughened skin more balm than irritation.

She drove her fingers into his thick, silky hair and suckled his tongue. Complete madness. This couldn’t last. She should have strangled Aimee for pushing her past temptation until she couldn’t control herself.

Netta’s tongue played with his then forced it from her mouth so she could fill him.

He made an amused sound and allowed her what she willed.

Her smile touched his.

If Netta could have decided the future, she would have joined him and Aimee in his mud house, worn his marriage collar proudly, and given him the sons all men craved. Daughters too. He only had to want her as she did him.

She’d lied about surrendering to her fate. From his first night on the isle, she’d yearned for a kind word, a loving touch, respect, acceptance, this.

He deepened their kiss. His chest crushed her breasts. He pushed his magnificent sex against her mound. They shared each breath. Their hearts beat as one.

Lightheaded, she tore her mouth free and gulped air.

Aimee joined them.

* * * *

None of Heath’s bawdy dreams had matched this.

Aimee kissed his throat, Netta his chest, their lips softer than velvet, tongues wet. Even the sun couldn’t match their heat. They smelled of flowers, clean skin, an ocean breeze, a summery day. Life at its best.

Pity if he had to die for these few moments.

Muted laughter and music sounded from the courtyard. No growls or orders from Royce. Yet. Once he happened by this room, the accusations and threats would surely come.

Heath would deal with them when he had no other choice. He pressed his toes into the cool marble to keep still so Aimee and Netta wouldn’t come to their senses and leave.

They all should, though together, and remain that way throughout the night and tomorrow, perhaps the following weeks. This confined space wasn’t large enough for him to take them fully or repeatedly unless they stood. Only a bedchamber would do. There were certainly enough in the mansion.

Though besotted, he wasn’t mad enough to invade Tristan and Diana’s home. That left his mud house or the surrounding forest. The trees were closer. He should suggest them.

Netta captured his mouth and slipped her tongue inside, blocking any possible words. He suckled her deeper then took command and filled her mouth instead.

She slumped against him, a prisoner to his will.

Aimee kissed his scarred back and stroked his ass and thighs.

His hair stood on end. Her touch branded him, the same as Netta’s mouth. He swayed into one then the other, unwilling to neglect either, unsatisfied because he couldn’t get closer.

They bumped into a rack. Glass tinkled. A broken bottle would cut their feet and put an end to enjoyment.

He pulled away to warn them to take care.

Aimee slanted her mouth over his. Netta cupped his balls and stroked his cock.

Delight barreled through him, impossible to contain. He shot to his toes.

They followed. Aimee enjoyed his mouth. Netta unfastened his breeches and stroked his thick curls.

His cock stiffened so much his skin stung. His balls ached. Nothing on God’s good earth seemed more fitting than taking them here and now without end.

Feet slapped the hall floor.

Fear slammed into him. Not for himself. Netta and Aimee. No telling what their people would think of one man with two women. Heath being English only made matters worse.

He twisted away from Aimee and grabbed Netta’s hand, or rather what remained of it.

She recoiled.

Heath should have let go but couldn’t. Up close, the injury was far worse than he’d dreamed. Three fingers and a good portion of her palm were gone leaving only her thumb and forefinger. Whoever mutilated her had used fire to sear the wound, resulting in ragged edges no longer charred but grayish white against her rich brown skin.

He couldn’t hide his horror at what she’d endured.

Tears slid down her cheeks. She yanked her hand away and dashed from the room.

“Netta?” Gavra spoke from the hall. “Wait.” She called out. “What happened?”

He’d done it this time and had to make things right. Heath buttoned his breeches and eased past Aimee.

She grabbed his arm. “If you follow Netta that will make her run faster. She believes you find her ugly because of her hand.”

“What? Never. I’m sickened by what the pirates did to her.”

Surprise crossed Aimee’s face. “How did you know that?”

“I overheard your people speak of the men who came here and brutalized everyone. It doesn’t make sense they’d do so to Netta. She couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen at the time. Still a child. Why did they choose her to maim?”

Sorrow registered in Aimee’s lovely eyes. She glanced past him. “Netta should tell you when she can.”

Heath couldn’t imagine when that would be. His reaction had crushed her.

“I have to go and comfort her.” Aimee brushed her lips over his. “In time, we can all do this again.”

Not likely. He needed to leave this isle before his base desires hurt Netta even more. Aimee too. If he could have swum to a populated island, he would’ve done so tonight.

Once Aimee’s footfalls faded, he left the room.

Gavra blocked him in the hall. “What did you do?”

He spoke French as she did. “I sailed here with Bishop when I shouldn’t have. Where the hell is Tristan? I need to speak to him immediately.”

Even if Tristan decided against the departure, Heath would never look at, speak to, or touch Netta or Aimee again.

God help him if he couldn’t get to the other island.