“It’s not just a sense of honor. I care for you. You think I just took you to bed for fun?”
“Well, it was fun,” Poppy admitted. “But I can see that you’re trying to fit some frame that you simply don’t match. And I’m telling you that it’s not necessary. I care for you too, and it would be very mean of me to trap you for life just because we decided to….er, have fun for a night.”
Carlos stared at her, seemingly nonplussed by the argument. Finally, he said, “What if I told you I love you?”
Chapter 18
“I wouldn’t believe you,” Poppy responded after far too long a pause. Her eyes were wide, and she looked alarmed by the very prospect of being loved by him.
Carlos felt the dismissal in his gut. “Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because the last time I thought you might stay around long enough for me to get to know you, you disappeared over the horizon and I didn’t see you again for over a year.”
“I explained that. It was unavoidable. Family business. I didn’t want to go.”
“That’s not the issue, Carlos,” Poppy said, sounding maddeningly reasonable. “My point is that I have to go by my experience. And in my experience, you leave.”
“Once!”
“So far. I’m not angry at you. You have a life to live.”
“And I want you in it.”
Poppy bit her lip, and looked away. “Perhaps we should talk about this another time. When we’re not so…post-coital. Or half-dressed. Or alone.”
“We will definitely talk about this,” he warned.
He dressed and went up on deck to discover what the hell had happened while Poppy was losing her virginity and he was losing his mind.
Valentin stood at the helm. He must not have slept all night, though it was now past three in the morning. Within an hour, the first hints of dawn would color the sky. They needed to make some decisions.
“Where are we?” Carlos asked.
“Cruising the Channel. The Seadragon never even got close to pursuing us. It took them too long to hoist anchor and turn about.”
“Amateurs.”
“They’re smugglers at heart, not pirates. They don’t run down other ships—they run from them. They weren’t prepared for this situation.”
“A good crew is ready for any situation.”
“Speaking of that, how would you like to deal with your current pretty little situation? Are you keeping her aboard?”
“God, no. We need to get her off the ship as soon as possible. How big is this fog bank?”
“As far as I can tell, it’s eternal. It’s been a gift, since no one can possibly see us. And only the insane or the desperate would sail in this if they didn’t have to.”
Carlos accepted the implied criticism. “Couldn’t be helped. Let’s get our bearings. I want to sail back to St. Mark’s Head. The west side.”
“That’s close to Treversey. Spargo’s crew could spot us if the fog thins.”
“Then we’ll pray that it doesn’t.”
The Agustina was a ghost, sailing through the fog with her sails barely rippling. The reduced speed helped, because the crew had to navigate unfamiliar waters. Poppy, having refused to remain below like cargo (as she put it), had walked to the bow and stood looking out over nothing but pearl grey oblivion.
Carlos hated it. He hated that she thought he wasn’t serious about her, or that he’d be content to give her up after last night.
A half hour later, the Agustina approached the point on the shoreline that Carlos wanted. The ship’s pace slowed even more, and a longboat was readied on the port side.
