"Get back to work," Christopher called to them, but he did not sound angry.

  The first party went ashore in three small rowboats, two from the Argonaut and one from the Starcross. Christopher did not allow Honoria in the first landing, preferring, he said, to ensure that everything was safe before he sent for her.

  "Pirates or smugglers might have set up camp here," he said. "We haven't seen any smoke, but the island has hidden valleys. And anyone ashore can clearly see our approach."

  James brought Diana over to the Starcross to wait with Honoria for their signal that it was safe for the ladies to come ashore.

  Diana fumed as James and the others rowed away in the gig. Honoria had thought Christopher's plan sensible, although she admitted a burning curiosity as to what they'd find. But she'd realized that, if hostile pirates or smugglers had taken up residence on the island, it was best to let Christopher and James deal with them first.

  She said as much to Diana. Diana hung over the rail by Honoria's side, her red hair loosened by the wind.

  "Oh, yes," Diana said. "Perfectly sensible. But they get all the fun of it, don't they? By the time we reach the island, it will be crowded with sailors and we'll be confined to the safe part of the beach. And what if they meet friendly smugglers, who greet them with a huge barrel of rum? We shouldn't see them for a day or so in that case, and they certainly will be in no condition to remember to send for us."

  Honoria laughed. "That is a bit farfetched, Diana."

  "Not really," Diana said darkly. "A band of pirates once tried to befriend James by offering him rum and a share of their take, as well as other . . . female . . . enticements."

  Honoria raised her brows and spoke in her best Southern lady tones. "I'm certain their bribes only made James that much more determined to arrest them. And do not worry about female enticements. James is in love with you, and you alone, that much I am certain."

  As angry as her brother made her, Honoria plainly saw that James had devoted himself entirely to Diana. It was touching how much he loved her.

  Honoria turned back to the green expanse of island and did not voice her other thought, What about Christopher? He was a charming rogue, and Honoria was not naïve enough to think herself the only woman he'd ever had in his life.

  She'd not seen him for nine long years between their first meeting and their second, and then after their marriage and his supposed hanging, he'd disappeared for four years to lands far away. What he'd done during those intervals, she could not imagine, and she did not really want to know.

  Not really. Did she?

  She bit her lip, craning to see the dwindling shapes of the boats as they glided into the cove.

  *** *** ***

  Christopher found the island pleasingly deserted. It had no name, lay off the main shipping routes, and boasted little but the fresh water that fell from cliff tops to gushing pools. The trees here were not strong enough for masts, and the tiny harbor offered little protection from storms.

  He knew that pirates and other travelers rested here from time to time and replenished their water stores, but he and Manda found no sign that any had set up more than very brief habitation in some time.

  Ardmore strode by Christopher's side as Christopher led him, Manda, and O'Malley up the path that would take them to where he'd hidden the gold. Every so often Ardmore would crane his neck to look up at the cliffs, then glance behind him in case Christopher's men, who'd remained below, tried any treachery.

  The summer day was fine and hot. Humid air pressed them under the jungle-like trees and sweat trickled freely down Christopher's back. Ardmore wore a coat and no shirt beneath, and his skin shone with perspiration.

  The path began to climb, the faint trail badly overgrown. Thick vegetation, swarms of insect life that had to be batted away, and the sticky heat served to confuse direction even further.

  Manda and O'Malley led the little party, cutting the path, the two captains climbing behind them. Henderson, whom Ardmore had brought ashore in his first boatload, had remained below on the beach. Wise, Christopher thought. Manda had a knife.

  "You see what I mean," Christopher said, panting as they climbed. "Knowing approximately where the gold is doesn't mean knowing exactly."

  "And you remember after four years?" Ardmore asked.

  "I think so. But even if I don't remember, you've won."

  "Not if we don't find that gold. Or evidence that someone else made off with it. I wouldn't put it past you to lead me false, then wait until I'm gone and suddenly stumble across it."

  Christopher drew his sleeve across his sweating forehead. "That wouldn't happen. You'd ambush me or follow me to make sure."

  Ardmore gave him a curt nod. "That's right."

  "No man will ever accuse you of not being thorough, Ardmore."

  Ardmore paused, allowing O'Malley and Manda to surge ahead. Christopher slowed with him.

  "It's interesting," Ardmore said in his careful Southern drawl, "how willing you are to lead me to this treasure."

  Christopher shrugged. "The gold's probably gone. It's been four years."

  The canopy of leaves shadowed the two men like a dark green cave. Ahead, the sound of O'Malley's and Manda's voices and the ring of their knives grew fainter.

  Ardmore's eyes narrowed. "So you'll give me the Mexican gold if I leave you and Honoria alone?"

  "Maybe you don't believe Honoria is worth a shipload of gold. But I do."

  "Romantic of you."

  "Honoria said much the same thing. But think about this, Ardmore. Would your own wife be worth it?"

  Ardmore stopped. He was a man who could go utterly still, and under the trees, the breeze did not even touch the strands of his hair.

  Christopher had not missed the way Ardmore looked at the beautiful, red-haired Diana. The occasions when Christopher had met Ardmore before, first as a colleague, then as an enemy, Ardmore had cared for nothing and no one. That had changed, Christopher could see.

  From what Christopher knew about the man, Ardmore had been captured by pirates at a young age, and then turned pirate himself. Whatever had happened to him on that pirate vessel had scarred him inside, forever. He'd become a pirate hunter after his brother's wife had been killed, joining his brother Paul in his never-ending quest for vengeance.

  Now the ice had thawed. James Ardmore, the feared pirate hunter, cared for something more than his fanatic pursuit of revenge.

  "Yes," Ardmore said, words clipped. "Diana would be worth it."

  Christopher waved away a fly who thought his sweat was just what it needed. "And Honoria is worth it to me."

  "You love her?" Ardmore said, still dubious.

  "Yes," Christopher said. "Don't you?"

  Ardmore gave him a long look. For a time the two men studied each other, green eyes looking into cool gray, neither yielding.

  At last Ardmore turned and resumed climbing.

  By late afternoon, the climbers reached a break in the trees. They stood on a cliff, which was a jut of rock that ran back into a deep crevice. Insects droned around them, and birds and unseen reptiles rustled in the brush.

  Looking down to his left, Christopher could see the cove far below and the glittering water of open sea. A small boat was just shipping its oars to land on the beach, seaman scrambling over the side to pull it ashore.

  Christopher did not need his spyglass to see the flash of sun on one red head and one black. "Damn."

  Ardmore snapped around. He raised his spyglass and stared through it at the landing boat. "Who gave that order?" he asked incredulously.

  Christopher watched as, below, Henderson approached the boat and lifted Honoria over its side to the sand. "Which of them do you think it was?" he asked mildly. "Yours or mine?"

  Ardmore shot him a dark look. "Likely both." He clapped his spyglass shut. "Do we go on or back? We can't reach the top and get down again before dark."

  "Go back." Christopher pointed across the narrow valley to the next jutting c
liff. "This is the wrong ridge. We should be on that one."

  Manda, who had just come trotting back down to them, stopped short, her black hair swinging. "What? You'd better be joking."

  "I was here only once, four years ago, and I was in a hurry. We took the wrong path at the bottom."

  Manda rolled her eyes and sat down on the grass. Her shirt was stained with sweat and green streaks. O'Malley also sank to his heels, looking slightly put out.

  On the next cliff, a waterfall fell hundreds of feet to the valley below. Beneath it, Christopher knew, a series of pools fed into one another then splashed over black rocks to empty into the sea.

  "It's there," he said.

  Ardmore studied the waterfall. "It had better be."

  "Too late to get there tonight," Christopher said. "We'll camp on shore and start early tomorrow."

  Manda shot him a pained look, then heaved herself to her feet and fell into step behind him.

  Christopher didn't miss the hard look Ardmore sent his direction as they started down. Christopher honestly had mistaken the direction at the bottom of the path, though he'd not announced his error until an hour after he'd realized it. Ardmore needed to be kept off guard.

  He heard Ardmore and O'Malley speaking in low voices behind him and decided it a good idea that he and Manda take alternate watches that night.

  By the time they reached the cove again, the sun hung low above the horizon, the boat still rested on shore, and the two captains' wives were nowhere to be found.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty-One

  St. Cyr volunteered the information. "Madame Ardmore and Madame Raine expressed the wish to bathe. They went to the pools. Mr. Henderson accompanied them."

  "Henderson?" Ardmore growled. His tanned face darkened further, and a murderous light entered his eyes.

  "To keep them from coming to harm," St. Cyr finished. His countenance remained as expressionless as ever, but Christopher swore he saw the man's eyes twinkle.

  Ardmore was already striding toward the path that led to the pools, and Christopher jogged to catch up with him. Without speaking, the two men pushed their way through the undergrowth, boots sliding on the damp rocks.

  The sound of thundering water grew louder a they neared it. Christopher saw evidence of the ladies' passing--broken branches and a piece of lavender lace from Honoria's gown.

  Christopher knew by heart each dress Honoria had brought with her and how she looked in each. The cream-colored muslin hugged her hips deliciously, the coral frock made her look like a ripe peach he wanted to bite. The light green gown pushed her breasts high and had little black buttons all down the front. He enjoyed the challenge of unbuttoning all those buttons.

  What Christopher liked best about his wife's dresses was removing them from her. She would have stripped the lavender one from her body by now, and she'd be splashing in the clear pool.

  Water would bead on her lashes and trickle down her throat to the crevice between her breasts. Honoria would swim lazily across the little pool, turning in the sunshine, sweet and wet, her skin slick with water.

  With Henderson standing guard over her. Christopher's stride quickened along with his pulse.

  The cool spray from the waterfall misted on the plants where the path narrowed and ended at a huge boulder. Mr. Henderson leaned against this rock, his gaze on the approaching men. Ardmore tried to peer past Henderson, but nothing could be seen beyond the boulder but more vegetation.

  Christopher said, "Noble of you to ensure the safety of the ladies, Henderson."

  Henderson looked wooden. "Before you jump to conclusions, I am guarding the path. No one can get to the pools without climbing past me. Or would you prefer to let the sailors spy on your wives?"

  The brush beyond the boulder moved and Diana Ardmore climbed over the rock toward them. She was fully dressed, with breeches and boots beneath her gown, as Christopher saw when she lifted the skirt to jump down. Henderson gallantly offered his hand, which she took with a grateful glance, before landing on the ground before her husband.

  "James," she said, and smiled her dazzling smile.

  She must be the only person in the world ever happy to see Captain Ardmore. "Mr. Henderson has been gallantry itself," she continued, her blue eyes glowing. "So leave him alone."

  "Mr. Henderson is always gallant," Ardmore drawled.

  "Where is my wife?" Christopher asked her.

  "She said she wanted to swim as long as she could."

  Of course she would. Honoria had been eager to submerge herself in a bath. Naturally, she would try to soak up as much water as she could to make up for lack of baths to come.

  "You can go away now, Henderson," Christopher said.

  Diana slipped her hand under Ardmore's arm and began steering him down the path toward the cove. Henderson pushed himself from the boulder and followed them without a word. Christopher heard Diana asking about the gold before the noise of the water drowned out Ardmore's short-tempered reply.

  Christopher climbed over the rock and move on to the pools. The waterfall thundered about five hundred yards away, gushing water through rock-strewn rapids. At one place, the rushing stream backed up into a little pool, where the current slowed and a bather could swim without danger.

  In this pool, he found his wife.

  Honoria hadn't bound up her hair, only pulled it back, and the black tail floated on the water. Her body, white, sleek, and graceful, gleamed in a slice of sunshine as she swam across the pool.

  Christopher stood on the bank, supporting himself by holding a branch above him. Honoria's white breasts mounded up from the water, tapering to dark tips, and a brush of black hair dusted the split of her thighs. She rolled over, revealing smooth, creamy buttocks before she dove again under the water's surface.

  When she came up again, she noted Christopher in the shadows. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, the tail of it hanging between her breasts. "Hello, Christopher. Did you find the gold?"

  Christopher's aching cock told him to rip off his clothes and dive in with her. "No, sweetheart. We'll look again tomorrow."

  His seductress smiled. "I imagine James is wild with impatience."

  "Yes, your brother wanted to row up to the beach, find a huge chest labeled Mexican Gold, and haul it away with him."

  Honoria laughed. She was delectable. The water lapped her hips, and her dark fall of hair curled wildly in the damp.

  There was nothing for it. Christopher stripped off his shirt and boots, and his breeches soon followed. Bare, he slid his body down into the pool, ignoring the chill bite of the water.

  Honoria waited while he swam to her, her green eyes taking in his every movement. Christopher got to his feet again in front of her, rising to his full height.

  The buoyancy of the water let him lift her easily. Honoria wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself against his hardness without letting it slip inside. She rubbed him a little, whether consciously or not, firing his blood.

  Her heat belayed the chill of the water. Christopher closed his eyes to kiss her, and she kissed him back, tasting him to the corners of his mouth, just as he'd taught her.

  He'd taught her so many things. She'd been innocence itself when they'd first met, gasping in shock when their lips had touched for the first time. He'd given her a vast helping of carnality in the daintily tiled room of her Charleston townhouse. Honoria had been surprised by that carnality but not at all unhappy with it.

  The sweet girl tasted just as sweet now. He let her finish playing in his mouth then he tilted her head back and nibbled his way along her neck.

  "Christopher." Her eyes were heavy, languorous, her scent as fresh and clean as the water.

  "Mmm?"

  "I still feel as though I'm on the ship. As though the land is going up and down."

  "You will for a while, before you get used to being still."

  "Then I'll go back on the ship and have to get used to that all over again."

  He s
miled. "Then I'll have to make you go up and down all the time so you'll always be used to it."

  She flushed. "I'd like that."

  "Would you, brazen hussy?"

  "I like how you make me feel." Honoria ran her fingers through the wisps of his hair that had come loose from the braid. "Is that so wrong?"

  "I've no objection." He stroked her hair, squeezing the water from it. "Be brazen with me all you want."

  "We are married, after all."

  "You were brazen with me before we were married," he reminded her.

  "Because I was so much in love with you."

  He loved how her voice went dark and low when she said that. Her clinging, wet body was doing wonderful things to him, but Christopher delayed the satisfaction of slipping inside her right away. He so rarely just got to hold her. He knew he'd sprung back into her life out of nowhere and probably scared the piss out of her. He'd not had time to build her confidence in him, and her trust.

  "I don't want you to stay with me because it's your duty, Honoria," he said. "Go home with your brother, if all you want is duty. Be dutiful to him instead."

  She raised her head and looked at him, eyes quiet. "You always tell me I should obey you."

  "That's different." The cold water was not calming his erection the slightest bit. "Though I enjoy ordering you about. Not that you ever listen."

  Her lashes were wet little points. "I would never obey someone without question. That would be foolish, possibly even dangerous."

  "You should trust your husband to know what's best."

  That made her grin. "You're such a man, Christopher."

  Christopher took her hand and closed it around his arousal under the water. His cock throbbed even hotter, hardening to its fullest length. "I think that's obvious."

  Honoria blushed rosy red. He made himself let go of her wrist, to let her do as she pleased. She squeezed a little, experimenting, sending wild sensations through his body, blotting out all thought.

  "I meant that a man cannot possibly know what's best for a woman," Honoria said.

  Christopher let his eyes go soft, surrendering to sensation. "Manda obeys my orders without question."