Chapter Twelve

Swansea,Wales

I don’t pretend to understand women. Didn’t then, don’t now.” Jack stroked my cheek as we stood together on the Welsh balcony where he interrupted my wedding to another man. “But that was good advice Bon gave you.”

I blinked and tried to clear the fog that enveloped my brain when I dared think of Bon. “Advice?”

“About life. How life is just life. Live it and let it be.”

I nodded and studied the stark white railing. Jack’s stare was almost tangible as I traced the fancy molding with my finger.

“I know that you know, Jack.”

I glanced up at him. Shame veiled my eyes.

“About you and Bon?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Let me guess. It’s your feelings toward her that have you worried.” Jack chuckled. “Good God above knows the whole of the deep blue sea knows about hers toward you.”

My voice escaped in a whisper. “And you’re still here? Wanting to be with me?”

Jack shrugged. “I suppose if I have to share your affections, I can’t think of one better to share with than Irish Bon. Trustworthy, she is. With a good heart.”

“Yes, she is all those things.” I glanced at the ocean and tried not to choke on the words that had strangled in my throat for so long. “Jack—I need to tell you something.”

His fingers wound together in my hair. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve never wanted another man to touch me. Never did until I met you, actually.” I licked my lips. They dried again. “I never wanted anyone except you. Then there was Bon.”

“Darling—”

I dared a glance at my husband.

Something in his eyes softened as he looked down at me.

“Like I said. I don’t pretend to understand women. Even squirrelly ones like Irish Bon.”

“She’s special to me, Jack. More special than anyone else. Except you.” The invisible weight of guilt I’d carried with me like a cross lifted as the words took their leave. Something more sinister took its place. Burning guilt. “I’m sorry for not telling you before.”

Jack sighed. “I know how physically affectionate you two were, Red.”

Words strangled in my throat.

“I know you could have had her, made love with her, as easily as you and I did in our bunk. But you that didn’t. I know you stayed faithful to me.”

“How did you—”

He held up a hand. “A captain, or commodore as she calls me, damn her, knows everything that happens with his crew—and his wife. Let’s leave it, shall we?”

I nodded. Still, my head hung low.

“Red. I love you. And I know you love me. Whatever kind of friendship you have with Bon—it doesn’t change what you and I have.” He paused. “No more than anything, or anyone in my past changes my feelings for you.”

Angel-Arse Hazel’s face flashed in my mind. I wondered for a brief moment how many times Jack had taken her over the years before he came to find me. And if he felt for her what I felt for Bon.

I exhaled and smiled. This time, I didn’t have to force it. “I love you, Jack.”

“I know you do.” He swept my black bangs back and tucked them behind my ear. “And I, my darling girl, love you.”

•

The days passed quickly and, under my care, Jack healed quickly. One morning, I eased myself down on our bunk with Jack’s breakfast in tow.

“Good morning,” he purred. “I smell salmagundi.”

I sat his plate on the small table that was built in beside the bunk. He was right, the scrambled meat bits, fish, vegetables and fruit did have quite the pungent smell. “Red Legs was the cook today. I expect we’ll have salmagundi whenever he decides to cook again.”

We shared a laugh.

“Are you feeling up to getting out of bed today?”

Jack propped up on his elbows. All the bruises were long healed and he seemed to suffer no ill effects from the beating China Joe had given him, despite being so close to death when I finally found him that he was more dead than alive. “I can’t get out of bed ‘till I have my daily dose of medicine.”

Lust lit Jack’s green eyes to a fiery twinkle.

I slid my blouse off my shoulders as I strode across the room. I turned to face Jack as I pushed shut the door. He flipped back the blankets and patted the bed next to him. With his busted ribs, we’d been careful in our lovemaking. Until now.

When we’d finished, Jack held me tighter than usual. “There’s something I have wanted to tell you, my love.”

My breathing was still coming fast from our morning romp and sweat dripped down my naked back. Jack’s fingers slid down my backbone and made me shudder a delicious shudder. My breasts swelled against his chiseled chest as his softening manhood slid from between my legs. “Tell me?”

“You asked before. About my father.”

I looked up into his face. He smiled down at me as I snuggled into his arms. “Yes I did.”

“Is this still a story, dreadful as it is, that you want to hear?”

At once, I was a child again. Nestled safe and warm in my nursery while my governess told a bedtime story. “I do, Jack. If you’re of a mind to share it with me.”

“Me mother died of consumption. So I took what money I’d stolen from the men who bought her and what little bit she’d left me.” His fingers strummed my slick back as he spoke. “The girls, as my mother had called them, did their best to look after me, but they weren’t my mother. I was not their affair and, quite frankly, my presence wasn’t good for business.”

I tightened my arms around him. His back was healing up nicely from the beatings China Joe had given him, and all that was left now that the scabs had fallen off, were white slashes here and there across his skin. I traced them nonchalantly with my fingertips as he spoke. “I understand, I suppose.”

Quite frankly, I hoped I would never have to understand the life Jack lived before coming to captain The Black Otter. I wasn’t a mother, at least not yet, but the thought of having to sell my body to men to make a living while my child hid in the closet—it made my stomach turn. My heart went out to Jack’s mother, and all the other mothers who had to live a life in such a manner. My thoughts began to swirl.

What would I be like as a mother—