touched his chest. “The mama was only trying to protect her brood.” Tiny chirps sounded. “You need to be careful.”
“I shall. I didn’t know they were there. I…ah…I…”
Aimee leaned in. “You what?”
He made a frustrated sound and pulled them into his embrace. He kissed Netta hard and long then Aimee.
She accepted his tongue willingly.
He tore from her too soon and returned to Netta. Back and forth he went, his passion deepening, their lips and mouths molding. They fought to get closer. Netta moaned. Aimee couldn’t find enough air to produce a sound.
Heath pulled away and backed into a trunk. Longing blazed in his eyes. Fear too. “Go to the courtyard. Now.”
Netta took Aimee’s hand. Together, they approached him, both of them brave.
Aimee spoke first. “Why do we have to go?” No one was around. If they had been, she would have chased them away. “We want more of your kiss.”
Netta squeezed her fingers. “Far more. Everything you have to give.”
Sadness replaced his previous emotions. He spoke to Netta. “I want to apologize for the other night in the storage room. I didn’t mean to hurt you because of your…”
She turned from him.
He slumped. “Please don’t do that. You have no reason to hide from anyone. You and Aimee are the loveliest women I’ve ever seen. You’re both perfect. Exquisite beyond compare. You need men who’ll protect and love you.”
Netta stiffened. “Other men. Not you.”
“Never me.”
“Because of my hand.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know what’s in your heart. I can see it in your eyes. Refuse me, if you must, but take Aimee. Make her yours. Love her.”
“No.” Aimee wrapped her arm around Netta’s waist. “Love us both.”
“I can’t.” His face reddened, neck muscles corded. “Netta, hear me out. What I’m saying has nothing to do with your hand. You’re beautiful. Always will be. Even if the pirates hadn’t done any harm, I can’t let either of you near me.”
Aimee’s hope sank. “Because our skin is brown not white?”
“Damnation. None of that bloody matters. The most enchanting Englishwomen can’t compare with the two of you. You’re too good for me. I’m nothing. I don’t deserve you. You need good men. Not—”
“No.” Netta stamped her foot. “Never say those words again. No man is finer than you.”
“I’m leaving the isle as soon as the other natives come here to trade or your people sail there to do so. Surely no more than a few months, hopefully in a week or two. Before long, I’ll be gone and won’t return. Ever.”
Netta covered her mouth.
Bile rose to Aimee’s throat. The world kept spinning and she couldn’t make it stop. “You want to leave because being with us makes you unhappy?”
Heath growled. “Don’t you understand? I want you both too damn badly. It’s all I think about and dream of. I can’t—I won’t take either of you, alone or together. Matters are already settled. If you refuse to leave here, I will.” He sprinted into the forest.
* * * *
Canela hadn’t kept her word to speak to Vincent. She liked toying with him as he’d done with her. Let him think she’d forgotten what they’d discussed. Let him worry that she’d told their captors about his plan.
More than once, he’d tried to catch her eye by whistling, waving his hand, or bouncing in place like a foolish child. She pretended not to notice. His scowl faded to concern then panic. The same as hers after his betrayal.
Today he tended the hogs. His bony frame was no match for their bulk. Their snouts poked him. Their grunts and squeals demanded food. Snarling at them, he dumped the swill. Greasy hair clung to his head and neck. His yellow scarf had faded beneath the sun. Holes decorated it. Its worn state and his ugly scowl didn’t improve his homely features.
Deliberately, Canela strolled close to the pen, her hands filled with tubers for the cook’s stew.
Vincent stared then glanced over both shoulders.
No one watched them. She’d made certain before edging near.
He made a noise to get her attention. She raised her eyebrows to acknowledge him but didn’t stop. He’d have to wait until she decided to hear him again. In a few days, perhaps. Maybe a week. Her people weren’t expected until next month, if they came. She’d learned that shortly after she and Vincent had spoken.
At the community fire, Canela offered the vegetables to Ismay, the cook. She was half Fanette’s size. Ismay’s food was terrible but she was young and easy to fool. She’d agreed readily to Canela helping her, not guessing why she’d offered this time but never before. “Are these all right? If you want, I can dig for others.”
“Those are plump enough but you need to clean and cut them so they soften in water.” She handed Canela the blade.
Its long, sharp edge would easily slice through human flesh and make the victim squeal. Canela smiled sweetly. “Merci. Do you need anything else? Rice perhaps? Or herbs? I can fetch them.”
“The spices are already here. Yoland keeps the herbs.” She was the community’s healer.
Ismay named what she wanted, explained how each looked, and where Canela could find them.
“If I forget, will Yoland help me?”
“She’s with her mama today. No one expects the poor woman to live. The priest is there to help her journey past life.”
He’d done nothing to save Canela’s people when the pirates invaded. Like a meek woman, he’d hidden in the forest. Here, he barely looked her way, unconcerned with her suffering. Him, she’d truly enjoy killing. “Should I disturb them to get what you need?”
“Both are at her sister’s. You can go to Yoland’s home.”
“What if she finds out I was in there instead of you?”
“How would she? I have no plan to tell her.”
Despite the assurance, Canela bit her lip, feigning caution.
“Fanette will never know either. She’s also with the sick mama. Now go.” Ismay flapped her hand.
“Merci.” Putting on a show, Canela kissed Ismay’s fingers and darted to the mud house.
It stank of dried earth and filth, identical to everything else on this isle. Herbs filled bottles and cups. In the past days, she’d learned
