The Buccaneer(49)

The latter was a favorite phrase of her father's and one whose prophecy she hoped would prove true.

They turned a corner and remarkably the scene before her changed. Not to a great degree, but enough to demonstrate that civilization did exist on the island. The street was lined on either side with narrow houses and shops, some attached to each other and some set a distance apart. Smells of richly roasted food spiked the warm air and mingled with the unmistakable odor of fresh ale.

The wares peddled on the street were colorful and interesting. Necklaces and bracelets fashioned from shells, bright-colored ribbons of burning yellow, glorious reds, and shocking pinks, and scarves varied in color and design, like none she had ever seen, strange herbs and exotic incenses, all served to excite Catherine.

She took a step opposite Lucian and found herself halted in midstride. She turned a pleading look on him. "The items the peddlers have to offer are different from those in England; I would love to look them over.”

He shook his head. "Another time. I have business to tend to." With that he pulled her along, entering an establishment whose sign claimed it to be Heaven's Fare.

Catherine smiled over the name, though upon entering had second thoughts.

The large room was clean, the patrons loud but not boisterous. The food smelled eatable and looked appetizing. Platters were stacked with thick meat stew and hot stone-baked bread and of course there was a never-ending flow of ale.

Lucian chose a table in the corner, his back planted to the wall and her bottom planted directly beside him in a chair.

A buxom woman with hair the color and texture of straw weaved her way around the tables, her platter held high above her head, her smile bright and her cheeks flushed cherry red.

She brought the platter down to the center of the table with ease and with equal ease and familiarity caressed Lucian's cheek. "It's grand to lay eyes on you again, you handsome devil."

Lucian wrapped his arm beneath her backside and pulled her toward him. "Bonnie, my fair girl. I've been missing you."

"Go on with you, Captain." She laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. "A man that has the devil's own good looks don’t miss any woman."

Lucian winked at her. "But you're not any woman, Bonnie."

Bonnie's cheeks flamed brighter and she backed out of his grasp that fell away to release her. "What can I be getting you, Captain Lucifer?"

"Some food to start," he said, his eyes devouring her full breasts.

"Whatever pleases you," she said with a catchy smile.

"I'll let you know what pleases me later on."

Bonnie nodded, her smile like that of a cat that had just been stroked lovingly by its master and walked off without so much as an acknowledgment of Catherine's presence.

Catherine made a serious pretense of inspecting her surroundings, purposely ignoring the woman and Lucian's exchange though catching every word. He sniffed after her skirts like a rutting animal and he had had the audacity to warn her of men sniffing after her. Indignant with his actions, she kept her attention diverted from him.

"Jealous?" he asked, filling each of their tankards with ale.

Her head snapped around and her eyes narrowed. "Jealous? Jealous of that brazen hussy? Captain, if you prefer vinegar to wine than you most certainly don't deserve me."

"No, Catherine, I don't deserve you," he said, and raised his tankard in a mocking salute.

"A shame," she retorted sharply. "I think you would have enjoyed the rich and satisfying fare I had to offer."

"Rarely does a fare satisfy me, madam." His words challenged, his eyes attempted to convince.

Catherine, having established appropriate replies to act out her charade, leaned closer to him and whispered with more conviction then any response she had ever delivered. "I would satisfy you, Lucian."

He stared at her lips, pouting with sensuality while aching for a kiss. Her wintergreen eyes stirred with restrained passion and her body . . .

His heart raced, heat rushed through his veins, and he hardened instantly. He cursed his uncontrollable response.

He caught her chin in a pinching grip. "When matters are settled, Catherine, I'll test the truth of your words."

Panic rushed through Catherine. Good Lord, what had she been thinking? Why had she responded like a jealous woman in love? She didn't care for Lucian. She feared his size, strength, and arrogance at times. Yet those same traits that induced fear in her provided protection and safety at other times.

She pulled away from him, dropping back against her seat, silent and weary. This charade had turned difficult and hazardous. She trod on dangerous ground. She spoke like a wanton woman and yet barely possessed knowledge of one. And worse, she was beginning to believe her own act.