Free Taken by You by Connie Mason

ship I use for privateering.”
    She felt her disappointment keenly. Was there no escape from El Diablo?
    “Remain here while I speak with Mr. Crawford,” Morgan ordered when he saw his first mate step ashore from a second longboat. He hurried away, and Luca immediately turned her attention to her surroundings. Lush with vegetation, surrounded by sparkling water, the island would have been a paradise in any other circumstance.
    Morgan hailed Crawford, and they met several yards down the shore from where Luca stood.
    “What are your orders, Captain?” Crawford asked.
    “It will take a solid two months to return the Avenger to her former good condition. Set the men to work immediately. There is plenty of wood about to complete the repairs. Once she’s beached the then can careen her hull. Meanwhile, I have a special assignment for you, my friend.”
    “And what could that be, Morgan? It wouldn’t have anything to do with Sister Luca, would it?”
    “Exactly,” Morgan said, casting a surreptitious glance at Luca, who was now kneeling on the sand examining shells. “I want you to take the Queen’s Glory to Cuba and find out all you can about the Santa Cruz and her passengers. By now the surviving crew have surely been rescued by a passing ship and reported the sinking. I want to know how Don Diego reacted to the news of his fiancée’s death. Find out all you can and report back to me.”
    “Should I leave right away?” Crawford asked, eager to carry out his captain’s orders.
    “I’ll let you know when you’re to leave. You may have a passenger.”
    Crawford looked stunned. “Sister Luca? You want to send her to Havana?”
    “Never!” Morgan denied vehemently. “At least not yet,” he added more reasonably. “If Luca is who I think she is, I have special plans for our little nun. And if she isn’t…” His words skidded to a halt. He had no idea what he would do if Luca actually turned out to be a nun.
    “If it isn’t Luca, who in the hell will my passenger be?”
    “Morgan! Mon amour, man chert, how I have longed for your return.”
    Morgan and Crawford turned as one to watch a voluptuous auburn-haired woman sprint from the trees toward the two men. Crawford turned to Morgan, his brow quirked in askance. “Rouge? You wish to send Rouge to Cuba?”
    “I have a feeling she’ll be happier there,” Morgan said evenly.
    “My God! The Spanish witch truly has beguiled you. I thought Rouge pleased you.”
    “She did, but one must move on, and I have a feeling Rouge is tiring of this island paradise. There is not enough here to keep her occupied during my long absences. Besides, I intend to return to England soon to give the queen her share of the plunder, and I do not relish bringing a French whore with me. Our agreement when she became my mistress was that either of us could move on whenever we wished with no strings attached.”
    Squealing in delight, Rouge reached Morgan. The then working on the beach to unload the Avenger of her plunder watched in amusement as the fiery-haired vixen threw herself into their captain’s arms. Dismayed, Luca watched the open display of affection between the woman and Morgan. She seemed to kiss him endlessly, with great affection. His mouth, his cheeks, his throat, wherever her lips could reach. A dull pounding began in Luca’s temples, and she squeezed her eyes closed against the pain. Why didn’t Morgan tell her he had a wife?
    “Rouge, take it easy,” Morgan laughed as he tried to defend himself against the onslaught of Rouge’s passion. “This is no place to display your affection. You are providing my then with quite a show.”
    “I don’t care, mom amour,” Rouge pouted. Her sultry gaze devoured him. “But if it bothers you, come with me to the house. A bed is far more comfortable than hot sand beneath one’s back.”
    She sensed Morgan’s distraction and followed his gaze down the shoreline to where a woman clad in a shapeless gray dress stood