Twice In A Lifetime Page 5

  “Really?” Oh, he had a lot to learn. She could drop him right now with one well-placed kick.

  “Yes, really.” Removing his hat, he ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “But I don’t have to time to argue about it, nor do I have time to return you to the ship, so listen to what I say.” He pulled off his long coat. “When we are in the taverns, you will not speak to or make eye contact with anyone. Is that understood?” He draped the coat over her shoulders. “Put that on. One look at your curvy ass and every man in there will know you’re a woman. Besides, it looks like rain. You might become chilled.”

  She slid her arms in the still-warm sleeves. His musky scent wrapped around her, intoxicating, sensual, and when mixed with his concern, took the edge from her anger.

  “Thank you.”

  He shook his head. “You’re still too pretty. Here, this will help.” Rubbing his fingers along the edge of the building, he turned and smeared mud on her cheeks, then surveyed his work. “Better.”

  “I bet.” She trailed a finger through the ick and wrinkled her nose. God, please don’t let this be donkey shit.

  Ian cocked a dark brow. “If you cause any trouble, I can guarantee there will be hell to pay. Don’t think I won’t paddle your ass.”

  “Why would I think that? We both like when you spank me.” She winked.

  His eyes widened then darkened with arousal. His groan was audible.

  “Okay, don’t worry. I won’t cause trouble.” She crossed her heart then raised her hand in mock salute. “I’ll be good.”

  He grabbed her arm and started toward the row of taverns. “Most likely you will get us both killed.”

  Chapter Six

  Ian pushed the image of her full ass, red from spanking, out of his mind and led her into the dusty street. Dark clouds rumbled above. He didn’t need another bad omen. The woman trailing behind him was bad enough. She drove him to distraction.

  Damn the Devil, why couldn’t she obey orders? He didn’t want her near this kind of danger. What if he couldn’t protect her? If something were to happen…

  He glanced behind to where she shuffled along, head down. What had possessed him to marry such a termagant? She perilized his plans and haunted his dreams, tormented images of him searching for her…yet it wasn’t him. The man was his mirror image, but he wore strange clothes and rode in a sleek, shiny boat with roaring power. For hours upon hours he searched, calling Izzy’s name. Agony-laced pleas with God, alternated with bitter curses, the pain so tangible, Ian’s chest ached upon waking.

  He’d never put much faith in dreams or people who claimed to be seers, but the images shook his beliefs.

  “Which one first?” Izzy stood in the middle of the street between two taverns. She looked so small and vulnerable the urge to carry her back to the ship almost overwhelmed him. But he had to find Alicia.

  He looked at the buildings. Three men fought on the porch of the first, off-key singing filtered from the window of the second. “This one.” He pointed to the second choice. His crew could pay visit to the other. He tugged the hat lower on her head and prayed this wasn’t a terrible mistake.

  Once inside, they walked to the front, and he nudged her onto a stool between himself and the wall. The crooning sailor stopped— blacked out actually— and a few men talked in hushed voices as wenches balanced mugs of ale and dodged groping hands. Not many patrons this early in the evening, but that would soon change.

  The heavy smell of stale liquor and unwashed bodies hung in the air. He scanned the smoke-filled room searching for someone who would betray their mother for a coin.

  “What be your pleasure this evening?” A large-breasted barmaid pressed against his arm. “Mayhap you and boy would like to share me company upstairs in bed?”

  Izzy tensed beside him, a flush crawling up her smudged face.

  “Just rum, please, love.” He grinned and handed the wench three shillings. “And a little information?

  She smiled, then gave him a wink. “Anything for you.”

  Ian leaned closer. “Has The Jackel made dock of late— or perhaps you’ve seen her Captain?”

  “Can’t say as I have.” She trailed a filthy hand down his chest, then smiled at Izzy. “But let me know if you need anything else. Anything.”

  Izzy glared from beneath the brim of her hat. “Nasty slut.”

  “No trouble. Remember?”

  “There's going to be more than trouble if she rubs those udders on you again.”

  Ian grimaced. Jealous. Not necessarily a good quality in a wife, especially a wife with a temper. Especially in a place where they needed to remain un-noticed.

  He accepted their drinks from the wench then whispered to Izzy. “I'm going over to that table in the corner.” He motioned with his head. “You stay here— out of the way and out of mischief.”

  She nodded and leaned against the wall.

  Ian ambled to the back and took a seat with three men playing cards. “Mind if I join the game?” He flipped a shilling onto the table then glanced at Izzy as the deck was shuffled.

  A young boy came from the back-room with a tub of wet glasses and stood across from her. She shook her head, then the boy offered a towel and she accepted. Ian let out a deep breath. She couldn't get into trouble drying dishes.

  After purposely losing two hands, Ian steered the conversation to Daniel's ship.

  None of the players had seen it— or else they were lying. Either way, he was no closer to finding Alicia. After this game he would have to retire to another table and start the questions again. And after that, another tavern.

  “Move your skinny arse!” The command thundered through the tavern.

  Ian’s attention snapped to the bar in time to see Izzy yanked from her seat by the scruff of the neck. A bulky, bearded man took the stool and laughed as she scrambled to reach her hat. She yanked it from beneath the man's large boot, then dodged his hateful kick.

  Rage filled Ian, his heart hammering in his ears. He was going to beat that man within an inch of his life. Nobody, nobody treated her like that.

  In three long strides he stood behind the large man and clapped a hand over one beefy shoulder. “This seat was already taken.” Contempt spiked his words.

  The man slapped Ian's hand aside. “The brat can sit on the floor.”

  Izzy climbed to her feet and tugged his sleeve. “Capt'n Douglas, it's all right,” she spoke low and gruff like a boy, while her eyes pleaded with him to stop.

  “No. It's not.” Ian shoved the fat man to the floor. Revenge gave his anger more force as he landed two hard blows to his bearded face, the last one cracking his nose. “Next time, you sit on the floor.” The man crumpled to the ground and groaned in pain.

  Ian grabbed Izzy’s wrist and hauled her toward the door. “You’re going back to the ship.” Back to safety.

  “Um…” She pulled him to a stop and looked around, her eyes wide and wild. “I think we need a different plan.”

  Ian assessed the room. One grizzled sailor blocked their exit and another rushed toward them, no doubt shipmates of the big man on the floor.

  Damn the Devil. Only one way to get her to safety now. “Run!”

  Ian shoved her aside as the attacker threw the first punch. Pain ricocheted through his ribs. He jabbed the man in the gut, but caught a right hook with his jaw. His knees doubled and stars danced in front of his eyes, but nothing blocked the image of Izzy rushing to his defense, tiny hands fisted, ready for a fight.

  “Get back, damn it.” He jumped to his feet. Dear God. She was going to get herself killed.

  But like a howler monkey she landed on the man’s back and slammed both palms against his ears, then stuck her thumbs into his eyes. She rode him to the ground and gave two vicious rib-cracking kicks.

  “You shouldn’t a went and done that, mate.” Two men from the card game flipped over their table, daggers glinting in their hands. “Big George’s brother owns this tavern.”

  Ian shot
a glance where Big George still lay on the floor. “Then it’s no business of yours.”

  The man grinned. “We work for George.”

  Damn.

  “Thomas, kill them,” George groaned. “Slowly.”

  Double damn. Ian gripped the handle of his pistol and tugged Izzy to his side. His heart pounded in his throat. He had to get her out of here.

  Pulling the gun, he aimed at the men. “Back away. Now.”

  One sailor chuckled. “Ye can’t shoot all of us with only one shot.” Sick laughter filled the tavern.

  “Ian?” Her hand gripped the side of his shirt. “Got a plan yet?”

  Not at the damned moment he didn’t. They needed more weapons or more allies. They had neither. He had to bluff their way out.

  He waved the gun, pointing at several men before taking true aim. “Which one of you wants to die?” Two men shook their heads and scurried out the door. Better odds, but still out numbered.

  “I don’t scare that easily.” Thomas advanced a step, his eyes focused behind Ian. “And you can’t shoot me and still stop Radd from taking your boy.”

  “Ian!”

  He turned. A tall Jamaican man with matted locks of hair charged forward.

  Ian aimed and fired.

  Crack! The shot torn through the man’s leg, and he fell to the ground.

  “Get the brat,” Thomas ordered.

  Izzy’s warmth was ripped from his side.

  “You son of a bitch.” Her voice held no fear, just anger.

  Ian drew his sword and whirled— just in time to see her slam her head into a man’s face. Blood spurted from his nose. She grabbed his pistol as he crumpled to the floor.

  Duece. Perhaps a wife with a temper was a good thing to have after all.

  She dashed to his side. “Don’t worry. I came up with a plan.” Grinning, she twirled the gun on her trigger finger. “Ready?”

  God in Heaven, she was insane. He’d married a mad woman.

  Thomas stepped forward, but froze when Izzy took aim at his chest.

  “I won’t miss.” Her hand never wavered.

  Thomas grinned. “You win this time, mate. But we’ll meet again and you will die. Both of you.”

  Izzy cocked the pistol. “Not if I kill you right now.”

  Ian seized grabbed her hand. She’d likely bring even more of Big George’s friends running.

  “Not this time,” Ian gritted. “Now run!” Dragging her out the door, they plunged into the darkness toward the dock. Fear and anger warred inside him, the need to hold her and never let go, against the need to lock her in a room and never let her out. Damn her, she’d taken ten years off his life, then had the gall to grin as if they played a game.

  Their boots pounded down the wooden pier as rain spattered around them. The bad omen had proved true. The last thing he’d needed was another enemy.

  “I hope you're happy.” He pulled her toward the ship. “That is why I didn't want you along. Now I have no way of finding Roberts’ location. We’ll have to—”

  She shook free of his grasp and frowned. “He was here last night. Alicia too.”

  Ian gripped her shoulders. “How do you know that?” What had she learned?

  “The boy I helped with the mugs saw them.”

  “Did he know Daniel’s whereabouts?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t like her determined expression. Not one bit.

  “Well?”

  She crossed her arms. “I’m not telling you. Otherwise you’ll leave me behind.”

  “Damn it, Isabella.”

  “I’ll show you. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “Fine.” He pulled her up the gang plank. “But I’m telling you this is not the kind of compromising that endears you to me. Now go find Ben. He can fetch the lieutenant while I gather the men and extra weapons.”

  “Ian, wait.” She clutched his sleeve. “The boy said Alicia was having fun. She wasn't forced to be there.” Her words were hesitant, full of regret. “Maybe—”

  “The boy didn't know what the hell he was talking about.” Ian pointed to the quarter-deck. “Now do as I said.”

  He turned and headed down to the hold, but the awful fear that Alicia hadn't been kidnapped followed him. He knew what Izzy had been about to say. The same worry had plagued him from the start. What if Alicia wasn’t the innocent girl he thought?

  Chapter Seven

  Izzy walked behind Ian and the lieutenant, the gun she’d swiped at the bar tucked into her vest. If not for the fact they might be killed, walking past Dunns River Falls was an exotic experience. The rush of the water over the sand and rocks, the fragrant breeze rustling the palm leaves…soothing in the pale moonlight.

  Ian turned. “How much farther did the boy say?” he whispered.

  “About a half mile past the falls— a big house on the hill.”

  Ian nodded. “We should get there about dawn.”

  She grabbed his arm. “Do you plan to just walk up and knock on the door?”

  “Yes. While my men hold about twenty guns on him.”

  “But—”

  “If you want to stop, I’ll have someone wait here with you.”

  “No.” No way in hell was he leaving her behind.

  His gaze narrowed. “I could make you wait here.”

  “And I can outsmart any man you leave to guard me. So let’s just keep going.”

  A smile dimpled his cheek, but he just nodded and walked to the front of the line again. It was the first sign he’d given her since the bar fight that he might not want rid of her, small sign that it was. Hell, maybe she should just use the gris-gris and try to go home. Neither of them liked to be told what to do, and so far compromising felt more like ultimatums.

  She pulled the bag from beneath her shirt then glanced at Ian. His broad shoulders pushed past a large palm, shoulders that slumped just a little today. He carried too much responsibility. Always had. Not just raising Alicia, though that had taken its toll, but he tried to help everyone, tried to act as if he was invincible. And he wasn’t. The weight of Alicia’s death almost destroyed him once. If she was dead now…

  Izzy tucked the bag back under her shirt. Maybe she and this Ian were doomed to a failed marriage too, but the least she could do was help him through whatever was about to happen. She owed it to him, to them. To what they used to have.

  As the sun bathed the horizon in orange and purple, Ian’s men fanned out around the house. He checked his pistols and stepped into the clearing.

  “Ian, wait.” Dread pulsed through her, the same sick feeling she had the night her father left, the day Ian walked out. Something terrible was going to happen. “Don’t go.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, confusion knotting his brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “I— I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.” One she couldn’t explain, one that had the gris-gris around her neck tingling. “Let me go with you.”

  “No.” His jaw tightened.

  “But Daniel might feel less threatened with another woman there.”

  Ian sighed then reached for her hand. “I know you’re frightened.” He rested his forehead against hers and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “But this time I refuse to give into your demands.”

  “Ian—”

  “No.” Motioning to the lieutenant, Ian handed her over. “Keep her back here with you. Under no circumstances is she to come to the house.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He walked away, her heart aching more with each step. Damn it, something was wrong. Something bad. A heavy bank of dark clouds blotted out the morning sun, and the gris-gris heated against her breast. What did it mean? Maybe she should take it and wish for Ian’s safety.

  Not yet. Celeste’s voice echoed through the palms. Izzy snapped her gaze around. No one moved or acted like they’d heard a thing. Christ, was she losing her mind?

  Ian marched to the house and pounded on the door. The end of a rifle poked through a g
un slot.

  “What do you want?”

  “Tell your captain I'm here for my sister.”

  A man’s cackling laughter sent a chill up Izzy’s spine. How many of Daniel’s men had guns pointed at Ian? This act of peace was a stupid, stubborn move. And she wasn’t going to wait in the bushes and watch him be hurt.

  “Lieutenant?” She hoped her expression was wide-eyed and helpless.

  “Ma’am?”

  Pulling the gun from her vest, she pressed it against his balls. “If you ever want to have sex again, let go of my arm.” He hesitated, so she jammed the barrel harder, higher. “I mean it.”

  His face turned a little green, but he gave a slight nod and dropped his hand.

  “Thank you.” She jogged forward then turned. “And sorry. I wouldn’t have really shot your dick off.” Before he could answer, she hiked to the house.

  Ian’s glare could have peeled paint off a car. But she didn’t stop until she reached his side.

  “Godamnit. You are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s part of my charm.” She kept her voice light, but fear skittered down her arms. The gris-gris bag heated. “Part of why you love me.” If he loved her.

  His attention snapped from the door to her. The anger slid from his face. “Izzy, I should tell you—”

  The door flew open and Alicia flounced outside. She smelled like sex and looked like hell. Hair un-combed, eyes huge, glazed. Drugs of some kind. Oh yeah, this was the girl Izzy remembered.

  “Ian.” Her mouth twisted. “What do you want?”

  Pain pinched his brow. “I came to take you home.”

  Daniel strolled to the archway, smoking a cigar. “Greetings, Douglas.”

  Ian’s hand slid to the butt of his pistol, and Izzy’s heart stopped. No, no, no. Please don’t do something stupid. Please. She couldn’t stand to lose him again.

  “Let her go, Roberts. I'm taking her home.”

  Daniel shrugged and gave a lazy, unconcerned look. “She's free to come and go anytime she wants.”

  Ian held out his hand. “Let’s go.”