My Heart's Desire (Barrett 1)

And then the room was silent, but for their ragged breathing.

Still shuddering with the force of his climax, Drake rolled to one side, his arms wrapped tightly around his wife, his body still deep inside hers.

“Are you all right?” he gasped, feeling her tremble in his arms. “Did I hurt you, love?”

She didn’t answer for so long that Drake’s fear escalated. At last he felt her breath against his chest, heard her ragged whisper. “Yes. And no.”

He smiled, cradling her against him. Last night he had let her sleep. He had no intention of making the same mistake tonight.

Dawn cast its first golden glow on the waters of Lake Ontario. Kingston lay alongside them, signifying the end of the first leg of their journey, the beginning of another. Just ahead, the mighty Saint Lawrence beckoned, and La Belle Illusion surged forward eagerly, ready to accept the challenge.

The seamen moved about the ship, performing their jobs while, keeping a constant eye out for danger. It was unprecedented for Captain Barrett to be conspicuously absent from the quarterdeck for more than three hours at a time. But if anyone noticed, no one made mention of the fact.

Below, in the captain’s cabin, Drake gently kissed his wife awake. “Princess,” he murmured between kisses, “I have to go topside. It’s been hours.”

Alex gave a sleepy sigh and opened her eyes. “We just went to sleep,” she protested.

He grinned. “That may be, love, but that doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been at the helm since sometime after midnight.”

She stretched gracefully, feeling the physical tenderness that resulted from a night of lovemaking. The ache felt wonderful.

He stared down at her, seeing the effect of last night’s passion. Her cheeks were still flushed, her hair wildly tousled, her softly parted lips still swollen from his bruising kisses. He felt the familiar surge of desire rise up inside him, coupled with a less familiar and most unwelcome tightening in his chest.

“Drake?” Her voice was questioning.

He shook his head, denying the feelings. He lowered his mouth to hers again, deepening the kiss until they both felt the magic of the previous night spinning its web about their senses.

The shrill sound of the officers’ whistle pierced the air, shattering the fantasy into bitter shards of reality. Seconds later there were running footsteps and calls of “Captain! Captain!”

“Damn!” Drake tore himself from Alex’s arms and hurried across the room, pulling on his shirt and breeches.

“Drake … what is it?” Alex sat up, alarmed.

He paused at the door only to give her a hard look. “No venturing from this cabin, Alexandria. I mean it,” he warned.

She rose from the bed, the sheet draped around her. “Tell me what is happening,” she demanded.

He had already flung open the door as he spoke. “La Belle Illusion is in trouble. God help us if it is an American attack.”

Chapter 16

“IT’S A MILITARY SHIP comin’ up behind us, Cap’n! An’ she’s flyin’ the American flag!” Cochran stood at the top of the stairs, calling out to Drake as he reached the main deck.

Drake’s head jerked around, his expertly trained eye instantly assessing the situation. The oncoming ship was a 160-foot military brig of over four hundred tons, with two towering masts and sixteen guns. She dwarfed La Belle Illusion in firepower, speed, and crew. The situation was grim.

All around Drake his men were following Smitty’s orders, dragging the cannons into position and hoisting the gunpowder and cannonballs up through the hatch to the main deck. Everything would be ready should it be needed.

“Captain! They are definitely in pursuit!” Smitty shouted, as Drake leapt onto the quarterdeck.

Drake nodded. “We’ll try to outmaneuver them.” He took the wheel from Smitty in an iron grip. The Saint Lawrence was narrowing; the Thousand Islands lay ahead. It would be nearly impossible to escape. But with Drake at the helm, anything was possible.

“We’ll not make this easy for them, Smitty,” he vowed, steering La Belle Illusion windward.

Despite Drake’s superb skill, the attempt to escape was futile. Not only was the enemy ship larger, with more expansive rigging, but the weight of the timber in La Belle Illusion’s hold made her slow and difficult to steer among the myriad small islands.

Minutes later Drake made his decision.

“Man the guns, men,” he commanded. “We are in for a fight.” His calm tone did not fool anyone. This was going to be a battle to the death.