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  “Oh god,” she gasped as she came, shaking and panting. “Reza…”

  He kissed her again as he pulled his fingers from inside her, catching her when her legs wobbled, and drew her into his arms and away from the wall.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured, bundling her close as she breathed. Then he realized she was laughing softly, and felt somewhat at a loss, watching her smile and wrap her arms about his neck. Then he knew, without a doubt and with absolute certainty, that he had fallen in love with this woman. And that he would do anything to keep her.

  Chapter 4

  Cressida laughed because she didn’t know what else to do. She came with thoughts of both Reza and Kelly in her mind, and there was naught to do but laugh. It seemed even her heart was no longer her own to give away. But as Reza gathered her close, she felt contented and warm and no matter what the future brought, she knew that her strange-eyed tiger would not abandon her, or love her any less. Perhaps that was how it would have been all along. He would have her and she would have him, and Kelly would have…his den, she supposed.

  She was spent and satisfied and wanted ever so much to just curl up in Reza’s arms and have a nap, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs drew her from her thoughts with a sigh. Reza lowered her feet to the ground and righted her clothes, pressed a last, lingering kiss to her mouth and then turned to face the pirates who came hurrying into the crew quarters. At their head was Cort, Kelly’s mechanic, and Harry, his boatswain and first mate, and from the looks on their faces she could tell the news was dire.

  “What is it?” she asked. Reza had slinked to a place behind her.

  “The sky,” Cort said. “It’s darkening to black. A storm is upon us. And the Captain refuses to change course.”

  Cressida bit down on a curse and nodded. “All right. I’ll pick a fight with him.” She glanced over her shoulder at Reza, who made a face and then looked away, saying nothing.

  Above, on the deck, Cort’s description of the sky did not do it justice. Darkening to black was not adequate in scope or even in palette. The sky was fat with storm clouds in colors shading from deep plum to ashen violet, reflected off swelling ocean waves of navy and charcoal gray, and it was in the water that Cressida saw black. But it was less a color, and more like the end of everything.

  The wind had kicked up to a maelstrom as well, and pirates were in the rigging trying to pull down the sails before they were shredded, before the lines could snap, even as the ship began to lift and drop, pushed by the waves. Cressida hurried to the forecastle, where Kelly stood glaring at the sky because the horizon had blurred into nothing but a roiling wilderness of cloud and violent ocean.

  “James!” she cried, taking him by the arm. “James, we have to turn away from the storm! It will rip the ship to pieces!”

  He turned to her, jaw tight, a look of pure fury in his eyes. “Go below,” he ordered.

  “Kelly, stop this! Have you gone completely mad?”

  “I told you!” he shouted. “I told you that this was more important to me than anything else! We will not change course!”

  “Please!”

  “If we die it will not be because I quailed!” He pushed her. “Go below!”

  Cressida pushed him right back and then tried to duck around him for the helm, determined to change their damned course herself if he wouldn’t. But, even as her hands closed on the wheel, an arm came about her waist and she was lifted off her feet and torn away.

  It was Reza.

  The rain came at once, not a drizzle at first or a few drops, just a torrent. As though the sky had been violently rent open, the rain pummeled down upon them. Cressida twisted, trying to get free of Reza’s arms.

  “What are you doing!” she shouted over the roar of the wind. “He’s going to kill us all!”

  “No,” Reza insisted, and he was looking at Kelly, who was looking right back at him now. “No, we must sail through the storm. It’s the only way to find the island.”

  Cressida’s heart sank as she watched Kelly practically glow with determination, and felt Reza’s arms tighten around her. There was no turning back now.

  And the storm nearly destroyed them.

  As the ship began to pitch, Reza hauled Cressida to the deck and tied her down to the mizzenmast so that the gushing seawater wouldn’t knock her overboard and wash her away — as it was doing to the rest of the crew, with some frequency. She gripped at the ropes as the ship creaked and moaned with every angry crash of the waves. Once the sails were down, there was naught to do but hang on and pray, and Kelly stayed at the helm, gripping the wheel to keep it steady. He nearly lost it, and himself, several times, but Reza joined him and together they managed to hold the ship’s course, sailing straight into the heart of that black sky.

  The world was so loud for a time that Cressida ceased being able to differentiate between human cries and the howling wind. She huddled as best she could against the mast, watching helplessly as men were tossed over the railing and into the void beyond. Cort slid by her then, the ship tilting dangerously, threatening to roll, his unconscious form tumbling towards the edge of the deck. She untethered the mast and scrambled forward, grabbing him by the arms, and hauled him back to the mast with her, feet slipping, rain beating her nearly to the floor of the deck as she dragged him. Then she tied them both together and to the mast, and hoped the ropes would hold. As she finished the second knot, a crash from above their heads pulled her eyes up to the furious sky, and a length of sail snapped and came hurtling down atop them. Something hit her head and she gripped Cort by the shirt even as she slumped, plummeting into darkness.

  When she came awake, it was calm. That was the first thing she was able to perceive. The world was calm and quiet, warm and dry, and soft. Her head was pounding, a miserable ache that throbbed between her temples in time with her heart, but she struggled to open her eyes against it, knowing all too well that she was in Kelly’s bed. Being the only bed on board the ship.

  She was right. She’d been cozily ensconced in the captain’s bed, nestled in his sheets. But she was more relieved to see sunlight spilling in through the bay windows than anything else, and with a smile she started trying to sit up.

  “Easy.” Kelly appeared, sinking to a seat on the bed’s edge, and reached to catch her shoulder, easing her back down against the pillows. “You took quite a blow, love. Lie back.”

  “But we made it,” she said, smiling still. “We made it through the storm.”

  “Aye, we did.” His expression was ambiguous. Relieved as well, she thought, but also sad. Or perhaps that was shame and she’d just never seen such a thing on his face before. “But not without some losses.”

  “Is Cort all right? I tried…”

  He flashed her a quicksilver smile. “Cort’s fine. Woke up in your arms and I think now he’s in love himself.”

  She laughed softly. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

  Kelly’s smile faded. “We lost quite a few, though. And the girl’s a mess. Torn sails, snapped rigging and she’s a hole in her side that’ll sink us if we don’t fix it soon.”

  Cressida looked back at him and tried to keep the fear from her eyes. “We’ll find a way to fix it.”

  It was the emptiest of assurances. They had no idea where the storm had left them. She didn’t even ask after the state of their supplies. Either the storm would have destroyed them, or they would both have to acknowledge that now they were undermanned, but that meant fewer mouths to feed. Cressida tried to hold onto the relief the sunlight had afforded her, but it was slipping rapidly away.

  Kelly reached out, brushing a few calloused knuckles across her cheek. The touch was tender and warm, and her heart constricted as she turned her face away from his hand.

  “Where’s Reza?”

  She heard his teeth snap as his jaw tightened in frustration, but he seemed to rein his temper in quickly enough. “Up top. Helping the boys.”

  She nodded,
glad to know that he was alive. Though she’d known it already, in her heart, somehow. Which seemed preposterous even as she thought it, but she couldn’t shake the sensation.

  “Do you love him, Cress?” Kelly asked.

  She grimaced and looked at him again. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I don’t care,” he said. His dark brown eyes held hers, a depth of feeling in them suddenly. “Do you love him?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Did you give yourself to him because I was fool enough to let you?”

  “James.”

  “I could see it in your eyes when you came to take the helm from my hands. I could see that you’d chosen him. But I don’t think your heart is wholly in it.”

  “Enough. Enough of this.” Then she did sit up, kicking the bedclothes from her legs and climbing to her feet. “I’m going up to help as well.”

  He didn’t stop her this time. He simply sat and watched as she pulled on her boots. She felt his eyes on her the entire time, scouring her for…she didn’t know what. A splinter of weakness, perhaps. A flicker of doubt that he could crawl his way into. She tried to give him nothing at all, and didn’t look at him again before she left his quarters and made her way to the top deck.

  The sun was a bright, gleaming ball of fire in a vast, blue sky. The air was thick with the vestiges of the storm, wet and hot, and Cressida drew in a breath heavy with the salt of the ocean. Her head still hurt, but lying in bed would afford her too much time to think. The bears of the Oso Armonia were hauling debris into a pile for Cort to sort through, to find materials still usable for fixing up the ship. They were climbing the masts to see about the torn ropes and sitting on the deck amidst piles of cloth, sewing patches onto sails.

  To a man, they worked with determination and purpose. Relieved, she thought, to have tasks to accomplish, things with which to occupy their hands. You could not fight a storm. You could not rail against nature. All you could do was survive it, and then the work of rebuilding became a balm.

  She looked up and saw Reza in the crow’s nest. Shirtless, muscled chest and rippling shoulders bared beneath the sun, skin a warm, rich copper. Such pure sunlight brought out golden streaks in the dark fall of his hair. He was sitting with his legs dangling above the rest of the ship, a spyglass in his hand, scanning the endless edge of the horizon. She started to call up to him, but then all at once he was lowering the glass and climbing swiftly to his feet.

  “Land!” he bellowed, pointing. “Land!”

  The rest of the pirates scrambled, following the direction of his finger, crowding at the deck railing and squinting to see into the distance.

  Cressida joined them, eyes searching the line where the cerulean sky met the azure sea. And slowly, a tiny dot took shape. A single peak differentiating itself, caught between clouds and the cresting waves.

  “We found it.” Kelly was behind her now. He smiled, fierce and victorious. “We found it.”

  Chapter 5

  If he was being honest with himself, his confidence had flagged during the storm. Kelly knew that he had only been seconds away from changing course, as Cressida screamed at him and the winds threatened to rip his beloved ship apart. He liked to think that he was a brave man, but often bravery comes with a price. Loved ones, scruples, life.

  He knew too that he would have changed course not for his ship, in the end, or for the men in his crew, the men of his den, but for Cressida herself. He could not have forgiven himself if she had died because he was too stubborn to give up his dreams. That would have only poisoned those dreams for him, forever. Still, it seemed he had lost her anyway. He knew that too, when Reza told him to stay the course. The man had refused to help or guide in any way for months. Something must have changed his favor, and Kelly knew of only one something capable of so turning a man’s mind from hatred and revenge to generosity. A woman. The right woman.

  And Kelly knew it was his own fault. He’d been stupid, a bit desperate with wanting her, unable to resolve for himself which was more important to him in the moment: getting the jewel, or getting her. Perhaps it was better this way, then. She had made the choice for him. And the storm had reminded him that there were bigger, more important things in this world than one human woman, and certainly than his small feelings. He vowed to redouble his efforts for the den, and forget the girl.

  Easier said than done. Even as she smiled up at him, as the men whooped and cheered upon espying that tiny speck of an island in the distance, Kelly wanted to grab her and crush her to himself and kiss the daylights out of her. He wanted to share his victory with her. He wanted to claim her, mark her, and never share her with any man ever. Despite his previous proposal, he was not inclined to share, in general, anything. He thought perhaps the sea and the bear in his heart had driven him to it, to considering that she could lie with him and with the tiger, and they might survive it.

  But no. It was impossible. And she’d chosen the tiger.

  And, Kelly reminded himself, he had the women and children of his den to take care of, to provide for, to love. Cressida was human. She could not possibly have satisfied him in the long run. He doubted very much she would manage to satisfy Reza for long either. She was a good girl, in fact the best that Kelly had ever known, but still human in the end. Weaker, softer, and without the wildness in her heart to match the beast in his. Yes, it was better this way, Kelly thought. Much better for him.

  He tried to put it from his mind, rallying the men to prepare as the island grew larger and larger upon their approach. What was left of the den would stay with the ship, working to set her to rights, while Kelly would go ashore with the tiger and Cort and Cressida, and perhaps one or two more for security’s sake. Despite having Reza with them, there was no way to know what to expect, not from the island itself or its inhabitants. Reza had been gone, after all, for years. And savages were never to be trusted anyway.

  Kelly felt a thrill deep in his heart once they were finally seated in the pram and the lads were lowering it from the top deck to the waves. Despite the heat, Kelly had pulled on his heavier overcoat, was armed with pistol and rapier, and had the map tucked safe against his breast, in the inside pocket of his coat. The wind was strong enough that he’d left his wide-brimmed hat behind, and the feel of the breeze ruffling through his hair was a welcomed change to the stillness of the air aboard the ship, with the sails still down for patching. He joined Cort in the middle of the pram, Cressida seated at its prow and Reza at the tiller aft, and together they rowed towards shore. A second pram followed, carrying Harry, Fat Tom and Esterbrook.

  The island itself was small, a lone mountain peak thrusting up out of the sea, radiant in the variant colors of life, white at its beaches blending into lush green treetops and the bold black stone of its apex. Kelly imagined an entire mountain range below the water around them now, with this island its highest point.

  As they rowed, he couldn’t quite help watching Cressida at the prow before him, the sunlight striking her gorgeously in shades of white and gold, how the breeze whipped through the long honey lengths of her hair. It stirred desire in him again, but he banked it down.

  “We will find my people half a day’s walk inland,” Reza said.

  Kelly nodded. “And what do you think they will make of us?”

  “Enemies,” he replied simply. “But I will treat for you. Do not take a weapon to hand, ever. They won’t understand you, and they will fear you. I will do what I can.”

  “And they’re all like you?” Cressida asked him. “Tigers?”

  Kelly glanced over his shoulder in time to see Reza smile fiercely. “Yes.”

  “I have a strong aversion to being eaten,” Kelly muttered.

  “Then do as I say,” Reza replied.

  Kelly felt a spark of temper light into his veins, but he fought it back. They were moving into the barbarian’s territory now, and he knew well enough not to further alienate him before the
y’d even finally gotten him to be of some use. Let them get past the tiger people, get the jewel and leave the island. Kelly very much doubted that Cressida had thought so far ahead with this as to imagine staying on the island with Reza and his people. She was too much a modern woman for that. He might have her as his own, after all. No, he told himself to put that aside again.

  In the shallows, Kelly climbed out of the pram and went to the prow, lifting Cressida out as well to wade with her in his arms to the beach. She made no protest, though Kelly could sense that it was pissing off the tiger to see her so curled up against him, which he found incredibly satisfying. He set her on the sand and then waded back to help Cort and Reza drag the pram to the shore, bolstered by the tide. Harry, Fat Tom and Esterbrook followed shortly, and Kelly turned to survey the beach.

  It was wide and white and gorgeous. Kelly thought perhaps it was the most beautiful beach he’d ever seen. More beautiful than the Bahamas or any of the little islands that dotted the Caribbean. The only sight, he thought, that would have been more beautiful to him was the rocky, unforgiving beach of his home in England. Though his legs were unsteady on the land after such a long time at sea, his heart sang at the feel of solid ground beneath his feet at last. The way that Cort sank down to his knees in the sand, the tide lapping gently at his legs, Kelly thought perhaps they were all feeling the same relief.

  Except Reza, who seemed to take in the beach and the jungle beyond with a look on his face of suspicion and doubt. Not a good sign.

  “This way,” the man muttered, waving them onward.

  He led, and Kelly followed with Cressida at his side, Cort and Harry and the others bringing up the rear. Up through the dunes to the crest of the beach and on, as the landscape changed from soft sand to harder earth, and little scrub bushes and skinny trees began to sprout at their feet. The tree line of the jungle was a thick gnarl of green vines and sturdy tree trunks, heavy laden palm fronds and swollen exotic branches. Cort drew a fat blade from his hip to begin hacking away at the mess of it, but Reza held up his hand to stop him, and instead ducked agilely through the wall of nature and began gently pulling vines and branches aside to clear them a way through.