Wednesday's Title
Where
are you, Anne Bonny?
Daniel
Lance Wright
Excerpt
Heat Level: 3
Book
Heat Level: 3
"Had
you fought like a man you’d not be set to die like a dog on the gallows,"
Anne Bonny whispered. The convicted lady pirate couldn’t bring herself to lift
her eyes to connect with Jack Rackham’s through the black iron bars. She feared
giving in to romantic leanings. Eventually she did, pulling her gaze from the
rough cobble stones of this St. Jago de la Vega, Jamaica prison floor and
glanced beyond the vertical bars of the cell. Jack’s silence attracted her
attention faster than a scream would have.
As
her eyes connected, "Stand straight, man! Don’t be cowering. Ya hear me
Jack? Replace that jelly in your back with a stiff spine."
Anne
attempted advancing on the cell door to get into Jack’s face with her warning
but was yanked to a standstill by the leather bindings at her back.
The
hulking guard holding her burst into bellowing laughter, releasing a spray of
spittle into the side of her face. "The talk I’ve heard was not a’tall
exaggerated. My God! You are an evil woman. This is the thanks you give
Calico Jack? He’s about to have his neck snapped by the hangman’s noose, and he
had the decency to offer the magistrate his life in exchange for yours. Now, he
begs for your presence as his final request. How cruel can you be?" He
slammed Anne’s head into the bars, her face forced between them.
"Please,
don’t hurt her," Jack said. "She meant me no disrespect."
Unable
to resist, hands bound, she could only stand, awkwardly leaning into the bars,
face distorted.
Jack
kissed her forehead then her lips. "I’m sorry, Anne."
"Me
too, Jack."
"Nay
to that; it’s my fault... all my fault we’re in this mess."
"Aye.
That be true enough. Still, I don’t wish to see you dead." Smashed against
the bars, she strained to look back at the smelly sweating source of her discomfort,
wanting to spit in his face.
The
guard shook her hard. "Calico Jack must be daft or the devil guides your
tongue," he said, still laughing. "You talk to him as if he’s a
bastard street urchin."
Finally,
she was allowed to push away from the bars and stand straight. "He knows
the mistake he made now that he’s sobered and thought on it." She raised
her shoulder and pressed it against her cheek wiping away the guard’s
disgusting salivary spray.
Angry
lips relaxed. "Now, if you’d remove these leather restraints, I’d enjoy
showing you how a woman can pleasure a strong man as yourself. My loins tingle
each time I get the full look at you." Come a bit closer so I might
clamp my teeth onto that ghastly lip and rip it from your face. She stepped
closer but still at arm’s length and relaxed her jaw, tongue dancing over
parted lips. She looked longingly into his eyes.
Becoming
mesmerized, he pushed his face toward hers then lucidity snapped into those dulled
eyes. "I think I’d have a better chance of enjoyment…and of survival,
stepping into a cage with an unrestrained she-devil." Holding her arms
above the elbows, he spun her around shoving her toward the jailhouse door.
For
an instant she came face to face with her captor smelling the stench of his
foul mouth. Twisting her face into a queasy grimace, she kept her head turned
away. But, even the rancid smell of all his recent meals couldn’t erase the
other disgusting aroma--unwashed human flesh within the confines of a crude
tropical prison. The oily odors triggered a reflex to pull only enough air to
stay conscious.
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