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“Yes, well, he probably survived a naval battle that resulted in the destruction of his captain’s ship. Apparently you saved his scrawny life, princess.”
Alex inspected the shivering pup and frowned. “He is thin. And cold. I have an idea!” She brightened. “You catch a fish for him to eat and I’ll warm him in the sun!”
“I’ll what?”
She gave him a beseeching look. “Please, Drake, he must be starving.”
Drake shook his dark head and started toward the water. “Why do I know I am going to regret this?” He turned back, rather enjoying the protective way Alex cradled the puppy to her own wet body. “You are one lucky dog.” He paused. “What are you going to call your new pet, wife?”
Alex chewed her lip thoughtfully, staring down into the warm brown eyes that now looked up at her adoringly. When he was dry, he would be quite the thing. He was lean and long-limbed, all golden brown but for a thatch of black fur beneath his chin. He looked like a handsome rogue. Just like …
“I have it!” she informed her husband. “I shall name him Blackbeard. He resembles you, Drake, a strong, gentle pirate.” She gave a gaping Drake a dazzling smile. “Now I have
two pirates on my island rather than one!”
Drake watched Alex scurry onto the sun-drenched beach, placing a willing and eager-to-please Blackbeard beside her on the sand. He smiled as the puppy snuggled against Alex and licked her face. Turning, Drake waded out to begin his quest for Blackbeard’s meal.
“No, Blackbeard! Come back here with that blasted thing!”
Drake looked up from the tedium of his raft-building in time to see the frisky pup bound past him, Alex’s chemise held fast between his teeth. Alex tore after him, lifting the bottom of Drake’s shirt, which flapped about her knees and impeded her progress. Her golden hair flew out around her, her indecently exposed legs glowed with a newly acquired tan. Her concentration was fierce as she made her way through the trees and followed Blackbeard toward the water.
“You miserable wretch!” she shouted. “Give me back my clothing!”
Drake leaned back on his haunches and, seeing that no ships threatened nearby, grinned. Quite a sight indeed. Blackbeard, who in less than two weeks had become the apple of Alex’s eye, had apparently fallen into disfavor with his benevolent mistress. Laughter rumbled deep in Drake’s chest as he watched Alex catch up with her pet and begin a fervent tug-of-war to regain control of her undergarment.
In all his two and thirty years he had never felt as carefree as he had these past weeks. Alex filled his days with laughter, his heart with tenderness, his life with meaning, and his nights with passion. Unable to put words to the growing feeling inside him, Drake instead made love to her with an urgency that grew more and more frenzied as the days progressed. He couldn’t seem to possess his wife totally or frequently enough to satisfy his bottomless craving for her. Some nights the first golden rays of dawn were already filtering down from the skies before he would let her sleep. And even then he would keep her to him, still deep inside her, joined to her even in slumber.
Each night she told him that she loved him. He had heard those words uttered countless times from women in the throes of passion and had dismissed them as meaningless. Until Alex. When she pressed her perfect body against him, shuddering with her climax, and whispered those words against his skin, he felt the queerest emotion surge in his chest. And he knew that, despite his past and the bitterness that it held, he wanted to believe she meant them.
A joyous bark broke into his thoughts. Alex and Black-beard were now wrestling playfully in the shallow waves. Alex looked about her, then seized a long, thin stick and tossed it onto the shore.
“Fetch, Blackbeard!” she commanded.
Ever eager to please, the puppy dropped the wrinkled chemise and bolted, returning instantly, his tail waving with triumph, the stick between his teeth.
“I suppose you are waiting for praise!” Alex glared at him, trying, unsuccessfully to smooth out her undergarment.
The happy pup dropped his stick at her feet and gave her a hopeful look.
She melted, dropping onto her knees on the sand beside him. “Very well, I shall forgive you,” she conceded, hugging his soft golden fur. “Although I don’t know why. You are more trouble than any mongrel is worth.”
Blackbeard yipped his protest at the slanderous remark.
“I am sorry if it offends you, but it happens to be the truth,” she retorted. “I know you believe yourself to be a retriever of impeccable pedigree, and I do agree that there is much retriever blood in you, but your markings”—she stroked his soft black beard—”tell me that your parentage is questionable.” She stroked his silky head. “But your heart is pure, and that is what matters, not your blood.” With that she stood and released the pup, who took off eagerly into the woods.
Drake’s breath caught in his throat as Alex, unaware that she was being observed, unbuttoned the shirt, which she rarely wore anymore, and tossed it onto the sand, then pulled the chemise over her head and let it flow along the contours of her body.
For a fleeting moment Drake contemplated shedding his breeches and actually taking Alex right there in the water. But another glance at the raft beside him brought him to his senses. As much as he wanted to give in to the excruciating pleasure of ravishing his wife’s lush body, he could no longer put off this inevitable conversation.
He walked behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist. “Hello, wife,” he whispered into her tangled hair. “Do you think you can part with that sorry excuse for a dog for just a moment? We need to talk.”
Despite his teasing words, Alex heard the seriousness of his tone. She turned, met his gaze, and nodded. Hand in hand they walked away from the shore until they reached the spot where the raft lay, symbolizing their imminent departure.
“It is almost completed,” Drake said quietly.
“I know.” Alex’s voice was devoid of emotion. “And my head is totally healed. After all, it has been nearly a month since my accident.”
Drake caressed her with his eyes. “It seems, princess, that our time in paradise is coming to an end.” His words hung heavily in the air. Finally, and with gentle understanding, he drew her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “We should go back to the shelter,” he suggested tenderly. “It is not wise to stay out in the open for this length of time.”
