A Pirate’s Wife by Lynelle Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

thought. Afterwards I knew she had no chance with him.
    He was devoted only to one woman, me. What a fool I was.
    And how much precious time we missed.
    He was always ready to show me his love in all
    kinds of ways, to carry me when I was tired, to make sure
    Rosa-Lee was protected and warm. He was always close by
    when Faro was in my presence. He never talked directly to
    me, never even looked at me, but I was always in his
    thoughts. When he had the opportunity to hunt he brought
    back the best meat to me and Rosa- Lee. At night he would
    cover us with huge leaves just to keep us comfortable and
    dry.
    No matter how exhausted he was I was always his
    priority. In the weeks we did not speak I would scold myself
    for mistrusting him. Now I know better. I trust him with
    everything because I know his love is unchanging. He has
    not changed since we were married at sea by Captain
    Derek, the man who rescued us and brought us back to
    Portugal all those months ago.
    What a glorious time that was. After almost two
    years in the wilds of Africa we were finally rescued by
    Captain Derek Blanq. He fell in love with Kayla and they
    got married a month after us. Derek and Cisco became
    friends on that journey.
    †††
    On the third day, Rosa-Lee came into Roberto's
    cabin. He saw that her lips were dry and she hungrily eyed
    him eating a peach, also stealing glances at the chicken on
    the table.
    'Can I help you, Señorita?' he asked without looking
    up.
    'Can I have some water and food, please?' her
    mouth was so dry that only a whisper was heard over the
    scratching of the tin plates.
    'I cannot hear you, Señorita. Speak up.' He lifted his
    head to meet her eyes.
    'Can I have some water and food, please?'
    'Will you sit at my table?'
    She looked at him. Her expression still showed
    defiance and anger but she tried to cover it with
    exaggerated submissiveness. He smirked.
    'Yes.'
    'Sorry, I did not hear you.'
    'Yes, I will sit at your table!'
    'Pierre, please bring a chair closer for the Señorita.'
    When a chair was place behind her, she had to stop
    herself from grabbing food and water simultaneously. Her
    lips burned with thirst.
    'Do you want water, Señorita?'
    'Yes, please.' While he poured the sparkling, clean
    water, she watched his every movement. Every nerve
    ending in her body shouted cravings for the sweetness. He
    placed the water carafe back on the table and handed her
    the cup. With shaking hands she finished the water in one
    thirsty gulp. Droplets ran from the side of her mouth. Ochre
    eyes followed the trail down her neck, over her full bosom
    and onto her dress.
    He had to hand it to her. She had held out for three
    hot days. Brave and strong was this delicate little flower.
    She reminded him of flowers he once saw blooming in the
    desert: beautiful and alive with colour, but underneath,
    hidden under the lush green leaves, thorns waited, and
    when you tried to pluck one, it would sting you when you
    least expected it. He had to shift for the stirring that he felt,
    keeping his expression sternly on her.
    She, however, did not notice the stare or the shift.
    She ate until she was full, the delicious food a welcome
    treat to her palate. It was quiet for a long time in the
    captain's cabin with Roberto filling her plate and she
    eating, hands trembling, taking sips of the wine he offered
    to wash it down. Pierre had already left without her
    noticing.
    Once done, she relaxed, holding the glass of water
    in her hands, not letting go of the precious fluid, taking
    frequent sips.
    'Meals will be served punctually, every day,' he said
    lazily cleaning his nails with the knife. 'I hope, Señorita,
    that we understand each other better from now on.' He met
    her gaze.
    'Without a doubt,' she snapped. Ahh, the thorns, he
    smiled.
    'Enrico is preparing a bath for you as we speak.
    Enjoy, Señorita.' He smiled at her when she finally let go of
    the glass.
    For the last three days, she received no bath. The
    heat was