Ian sat in the chair next to his friend waiting for him to wake. The last week had been difficult on everyone, but none more so than he. Edward had become a very important part of his life and he wasn’t sure if he was willing to let him go. They were a mere few days away from his island paradise and Ian wanted him to hang on long enough to see his daughter again.

Over the past three days, Edward’s health deteriorated at an alarming rate. The sessions with the women had stopped on both ships and everyone paced the decks trying to keep the noise down as much as possible. They didn’t want to cause any undue strain on the dying man.

Edward had begun writing notes and letters to those people he felt needed to understand his actions over the past twenty years. He dictated his will to Ian and signed it, then sealed it with his wax marker. Within hours of his final signature, Edward had taken to bed and was moved into the captain’s quarters for comfort. Ian kept a vigil on the man and slept on the bench beneath the windows of his cabin to be close to his friend.

For the first time in more than ten years, Ian began to pray. He wanted the old man to live long enough to see his home once more, but the outlook was grim. He was slipping with the sweep of the clock’s hand. Even the skies seemed to mourn the king’s condition. A storm had picked up and filled the ships’ sails with such a force, that they were accelerating their speed toward Westerly. It was just a matter of seeing who would win - the storm, or the grim reaper.

Morning brought with it a hope of making their destination in time, as the spotters in the crow’s nest called out at the first sight of land. Red entered Ian’s quarters silently spotting his friend asleep on the cushions beneath the windows. Edward’s breathing was labored and hard, but at least he was still alive.

Cautiously, he stepped to Ian’s side and touched his shoulder. The man awoke with a start, then sat and looked directly at Edward’s prone body.

“We’ve reached Westerly,” Red said in a hushed whisper. “We should be in port in an hour.”

“Let’s hope he can last that long,” Ian said as he pulled the blanket out from his entangled feet and stepped to his unconscious friend’s side.

“I’ve ordered breakfast and coffee,” Red announced when Ian moved to the washbasin and splashed water across his face and neck.

He leaned his head over the basin and poured the rest of the water from the pitcher across it.

“The schooner can move quicker than we can,” Ian told his friend, raising his head, and brushing the long blonde locks from his face.

“We can put some men to the sails and cut some distance off the journey,” Red agreed, watching Ian pull his wet hair behind his head, wrapping it with a leather strip.

“Do it and get them to shore. I want Angelique to know about her father and I want her there when we arrive. I hope he’ll be able to see her once more before…”

“Aye, Captain, I’ll get the men working on it immediately.”

Red left the cabin as Salty walked in with a tray of food. He glanced from his friend to the sleeping man and back again. His normal, jubilant humor was gone with the tension and stress of the past few days.

“One more night gone,” he said as he sat the food on the table. “That’s always a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Not this time,” Ian said sadly. “He’s dying and there is no force in this world that will stop it.”

“Let’s just hope he can see his daughter before he goes,” Salty said as he turned and left the room, allowing his friend a few minutes alone with King Edward.

Angelique sat at the dining table alone, as usual, eating her chosen breakfast of fresh fruits, toast, and black tea. The air was clean and refreshing as it blew through the open windows and across her face. She had awoken shortly after dawn and sat at her window seat looking out onto the ocean. It was a ritual she had picked up when she was a very small child, and even though she knew it was useless, she still waited for her father’s return.

Two ships came into sight as they headed toward the island. She couldn’t make out the colors they sailed under, but it didn’t matter. More than twenty ships a week came to the island, but none of them held the one person she wanted to see.

As much as she tried to focus on the ships, all she could see was the man in her dreams. He had haunted her nightly for the past two weeks. She was beginning to think herself crazy. She had never met this man, but she had fallen in love with him. He was a dream lover that she couldn’t wait to see every night. He was her secret and she shared him with nobody in fear he would leave her dreams and never return.

Every night she would climb into her bed, blow out her lamp, say her prayers, and close her eyes. Within minutes he was with her, touching her, praising her beauty, worshiping her body. He touched her in ways she had no idea was even possible. He kissed her in places she was certain was immoral, but deliciously erotic. His mouth was hot upon her flesh and she could feel her blood begin to boil.

When she awoke, she was hot, sweaty, panting, and moist. She had never known her body could become wet without bleeding, but she would literally drip down her legs as she moved to her wash closet. Washing, in itself, was an experience. Her pubic area was so hot, the cool water felt almost sensual. Even now, as she thought back over the evening’s events with her secret lover, she could feel the heat rising inside her again.

Without warning the door to the dining room opened and Angelique nearly screamed in alarm. She hadn’t realized she was daydreaming. Her eyes were closed, her hand pressed against the apex of her legs. She stared blankly at the maid that stood at the doorway looking alarmed and frightened.

“Your Highness,” she gasped. “It’s your father.”

“What? He’s here?”

Angelique’s eyes widened, and her heart jumped in her chest. She rose from her seat and moved to the doorway, anxious, and eager to see him. She didn’t wait to hear what the maid had to say, all she wanted was to see her father.

“Wait, miss, please,” the maid continued as she skirted behind the princess who was halfway down the hallway.

Angelique stepped to the front door and past Rupert who stood next to a man in sailor’s clothing. She paused momentarily, looking past him through the open doorway to the carriage and the other two sailors that waited beyond.

“Who are you?” she asked with a frown. “Where’s my father?”

“My name is Roach, Your Highness,” the man said. “Your father is ill. He’s aboard our ship. The captain has requested you accompany us to the docks before…before it’s too late.”

“What do you mean…too late?”

“He’s dying ma’am. He’s been ill for some time but has only recently worsened. He’s tried to hang on until he got home, until he saw you again, but…”

Angelique staggered slightly backward then quickly gathered her composure. She turned to Rupert and ordered her carriage to be brought around but was stopped by the sailor.

“We have a carriage waiting, ma’am,” he clarified. “We will take you to him.”

“Not alone, you will not,” Rupert insisted and stepped forward to block the princess from leaving with the man. “Our guards will accompany the princess to the docks. They will follow your carriage.”

Angelique didn’t get a chance to argue as Rupert escorted the man out the door and ordered them to wait by the front gate. He closed the door and turned to the maid who had been standing behind Angelique.

“Get the guards and the princess’ carriage immediately,” he instructed looking at her sternly.

“You will need your wrap, Your Highness,” he told Angelique as the maid ran down the hallway. He placed his arm beneath her elbow, escorting her to the stairs. “You must hurry, Princess. The carriage will be ready when you come back down.”

Angelique nodded silently then turned and nearly ran up the stairs. She understood her butler’s concern, but she wanted nothing more than to be with her father. She ran to her room, threw open the door with such force she startled the maid who was making her bed. Without a word, she pulled a wrap from the large wardrobe along with a bonnet and began putting them on as she hurried back down the stairs. By the time she reached the landing, the foyer was filled with servants, all curious and concerned.

She didn’t wait to exchange words. She ran through the doorway as quickly as Rupert opened it and hurried to the waiting carriage. Four armed guards were waiting for her, as well as two armed drivers. She climbed the steps into the carriage and sat down as the team pulled away at a quick trot. Once outside the gates, the carriage’s horses began to run, following close behind the sailors.

The motion of the carriage rocked violently and for a moment Angelique feared tipping over, but they continued moving until she could hear the sailors on the docks, echoing through the morning air. The scent of seawater filtered through the open window, and Angelique drew a deep breath to steady her nerves. The carriage stopped abruptly, and she opened the door without waiting for a guard to assist her. She jumped from the steps and rushed to where the sailors were standing.

Roach turned when the princess ran toward the water, leading her and her guards down the pier to the large ship that was just pulling into a berth. By the time she reached the massive hull, the plank had been lowered and she was being escorted up them by her guard. She paused momentarily on deck to see the many women and sailors who stood staring at her. She didn’t care who they were, she wanted her father.

“This way,” Roach told her, escorting her and the two guards to the captain’s quarters.

Angelique stepped through the door as it opened and paused for a moment for her eyes to adjust to the differences in light. She looked around and saw two men standing beside the bed but didn’t pay attention to either one. Her eyes settled on the prone figure of her father. He was pale, and his breathing labored and raspy. Slowly, she found her feet moving as her legs shook beneath her. She fell to the mattress edge next to her father and took his hand in hers.

“Father, it’s me,” she whispered as the guards and Roach stepped back out of the door.

The royal guards were secure in the knowledge that the princess would be safe and wanted to give her time with the king.

“He’s been unconscious for the past two days,” Ian said quietly as he stepped to her side.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked not looking up to see who had laid a hand on her shoulder.

“He has tuberculosis,” he told her. “He’s had it for some time, but it worsened on his way back here.”

“Angelique,” her father said in a weak, gasping whisper.

“Yes Father, I’m here,” she said raising his hand to her lips and kissing it gently.

Edward opened his eyes with a weak fluttering action and focused on the beautiful young woman beside him. Angelique unfastened her bonnet, removing it from her head and letting it fall to the floor.

“My baby girl,” he whispered. “I am so sorry… I should have been here…please forgive me for leaving you.”

“There is nothing to forgive, I love you, Father,” she assured him as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Please save your strength. We’ll get you home and call the doctor. You’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

“Please, promise me…the house must work…it will save Westerly…please…promise me…you will see it through…”

“Father, please save your strength,” she cried as she kissed his hand.

“Promise me…”

“I promise,” she told him through her sobs.

“So, beautiful…” he gasped. “So much like Maria…so beautiful…”

“Father, please don’t speak. You must rest.”

“Take care of her,” he said as he looked to Ian who was standing behind her. “Stay…help her…keep her safe…make her happy…”

“I will, Edward, I swear it,” he promised in a shaky voice.

“I have always loved you,” he told her looking back at the tears that stained her delicate face. “I did this…for you…for the island…I have always…loved…”

Edward gasped his last breath as Angelique broke down in deep sobs, falling to her father’s chest.

Ian stood by her side, fighting his own emotions as he reached down and smoothed Angelique’s dark hair.

“All he wanted was to come back to you,” he told her gently. “He wanted to be home when…”

Angelique pulled herself up from his chest, wiping her tears away and trying to control her sobbing. Ian knelt beside the bed.

“I hardly knew him,” she said through her tear-soaked sniffles.

“But you loved him,” he said watching her nod her head.

A moment later, Angelique was wrapped inside Ian’s embrace, his shoulder wet with her tears as he held her tight, whispering words of encouragement in her ear.

Red left the room, allowing the two people who loved the king the most, some time together to grieve. He looked at Roach and the guards and shook his head, then moved out to the deck. The sounds of sobbing from the women could be heard all around the docks.

The king was dead.

The procession slowly advanced down the street in front of the palace as the long flatbed wagon passed by carrying the flower encrusted casket of King Edward. Angelique followed behind with the Priest, walking in front of the Royal Guard, all wearing black tunics and breeches, each one with a sword strapped to his hip.

Angelique kept her head up and her face covered with a black veil. Ian and fifty of his men acted as escort to the king’s final passage as they walked next to the wagon, and beside the future queen. Angelique had refused to accept the crown until her father had a proper burial. Tomorrow was soon enough for the formalities, but for now, this day was for Edward.

Every house along the street had been adorned with floral wreaths and black ribbons decorating the trees and lamp posts. The ports had been closed and ships were told to stay at bay for three days for mourning. The women Edward had brought to Westerly with him had been staying aboard the ships and were among the crowd that watched the casket pass by.

Flowers were cast before the horses who drew the wagon toward the cemetery. Tears of sorrow bathed the faces of those who offered prayers. The Priest walked beside Angelique, issuing prayers, and reading scriptures as each step took them closer to the graveyard on the hill, overlooking the ocean.

Maria was buried there, Angelique’s grandparents too. The cemetery, in fact, was filled with Abbott ancestors, and soon her father would join them. As the generations passed, his legacy would be nothing more than part of the island’s history. Forgotten and transformed to a name on a tombstone.

The house on the cliff nearby had been built by Black Jack, for his young bride, Angelique I. It was used as their hideaway, their secret home for times when they needed solitude and privacy. As a child, Angelique would come here when she wanted to be alone. When she was sad that her father hadn’t been there for her birthday. Now, it would be a reminder of this day. The day her father finally came home and left her, all in one failed moment.

Angelique felt empty and alone as she found her feet moving, one in front of the other, in an action she had no control over. Her eyes burned from shed tears, her heartfelt empty and her head ached from the lack of sleep over the past two days. A formal funeral had been conducted earlier that morning with nearly the entire country in attendance. The chapel was filled and hot, but Angelique barely noticed it.

Several old friends of Edwards stood up and spoke on his behalf, telling stories of his youth, and saying their goodbyes to a life lost. Ian instructed his men to stand in attendance and was there for support for Angelique as well as protection. He left a hundred of his men behind to guard the only port into Westerly, along with the crew of the schooner. He was determined to keep the princess safe and allow the country to have their time of mourning.

Once they reached the hilltop, Angelique found her feet had stopped beneath her. She was amazed at how automatic her reactions were when she felt so numb. If it wasn’t for her lungs knowing how to breathe on their own, she would never have been able to take a single breath.

Father Billings stepped forward as the casket was carried off the wagon by six of Ian’s men and placed next to the hole that had been dug the night before. He began his prayers and blessings again as the sorrowful sobs of those present echoed through the stillness of the day.

Ian stood nearby to support Angelique if she needed it, but she barely acknowledged his presence. He knew she was still in shock by Edward’s unexpected death, but he had made his friend a promise to care for her and protect her. It was a promise he was not going to shirk.

Once the Priest finished his preaching, the large crowd of mourners bowed their heads to pray. Ian looked around and noticed his men had their eyes closed, but their heads did not bow. Most of them didn’t believe in God, others had felt long ago that their creator had abandoned them. It was the life of a pirate. He glanced back to Angelique and noticed that she had not bowed her head either. She stared straight ahead, her face void of emotion, her eyes red from tears.

An overwhelming urge came over him and he fought against going to her and pulling her into his arms. The day of Edward’s death, he had held her in his embrace for a very long time, comforting and consoling her until her tears slowed. It was a sensation that had managed to get into his heart and wouldn’t leave. He knew it wasn’t love he felt for her, but he was developing some sort of feelings that, at present, had no name.

Ian looked back when six of his men stepped forward and lifted long leather straps beneath the casket to their shoulders. They hoisted Edward’s coffin and carefully set it into the open grave. Father Billings gave Angelique a shovel full of dirt and waited for her to stand. Slowly, she rose to her feet and began to move forward. It was instinct that made Ian act and move to her side, along with Red, both offered her support by taking her arm and helping her move forward.

Angelique had no idea what she was doing. One minute she felt like the world was caving in around her, and the next she had the support and strength she needed to carry out her duty. She tipped the shovel and allowed the dirt to fall into her father’s grave, then stepped back two steps and allowed the gravediggers to begin shoveling dirt into the hole.

Turning around, Angelique focused on the faces that seemed to float together as they passed her by, offering her their support, their comfort, their best wishes, and their prayers. She was slowly being covered with wreaths of fragrant flowers as the women placed leis around her neck. Her arms felt heavy after accepting the many hugs the islanders offered her.

At last, Angelique could leave the gravesite, walking down the hillside road, but kept getting interrupted by mourners who hadn’t come all the way up to the cemetery. She tried to stay strong, she tried to allow them to offer her words of wisdom and support, but she was growing tired of the entire event and just wanted to be alone. She continued walking, as yet another group of mourners advanced on her, this time she couldn’t stand still and allow them to distract her from leaving.

“Get me out of here,” she told Ian and Red, who blocked her path as they hurried her to the waiting carriage.

The mourners nodded as they passed by and wished her blessings but did not attempt to break through the pirates to stop her.

Once she neared the carriage, she noticed her guards standing in wait for her. She frowned when she realized that the men beside her were not her guards, but sailors. She didn’t know where they had come from, or where they were going, and for a brief instant, she was afraid.

“Your Highness,” Red began reaching for the handle of the carriage.

He bowed slightly at the waist and she realized that she knew him. His face and his voice were familiar to her from the ship that brought her father home. She smiled back and felt much calmer, then placed a warm hand on his arm and thanked him. Angelique watched him glance above her head, nodding before he stepped away.

“I’ll escort the princess back,” a voice said from her other side.

She looked up but quickly looked away as the sun’s bright light blinded her. She blinked repeatedly as she tried to keep her tired red eyes from watering again.

A strong familiar hand fell to her back, and Angelique stepped up into the carriage. The seat beside her rocked with the weight of the man who sat down next to her. His voice and his gentle hand reminded her of the man on the ship who tried to comfort her. Then she realized she’d never thanked him, never even acknowledged him after the guards arrived to carry her father off the ship. It was not exactly a time she wanted to remember, but she was raised with manners and she wasn’t about to forget who, or what, she was.

“I never had a chance to thank you for all you’ve done,” Angelique began lifting the veil from her eyes, then removed her black hat.

“Edward was a very good friend of mine,” Ian said gently as he laid his hand on hers. “He asked me to bring him home and made me promise to protect you. I won’t let him - or you - down.”

“I have guards to protect me,” she said when she reached for the cloth handkerchief in her handbag. Ian laughed a relaxed, comfortable sound that actually made Angelique smile.

“I will never speak poorly of your guards,” he began. “But they will never compare to the protection a pirate can offer.”

“Pirate?” Angelique asked with a frown as she glanced beside her. Ian smiled down at her and watched the shocked expression cross her face.

“Relax, Your Highness,” he said with a smile that she recognized from so many long passionate nights of lovemaking. “I may be a pirate, but I am also a friend. Your father trusted me, and I can assure you, you can as well.”

“W... who are you?” she asked with wide eyes.

She knew it was impossible. Dreams did not come true, but nevertheless, there he was. The man she had spent so many intimate moments with over the past few weeks. His long blonde hair, his crystal blue eyes, his seductive smile. It was him, and she couldn’t deny it.

“I’m known as Bloody John, but my friends call me Ian.”

“This is impossible,” she whispered. Even the name was the same.

“What is?” Ian asked with an amused grin pulling his lips apart.

“I know you…but it’s not possible. It was just a…dream…no, it’s not possible…I must be dreaming…”

Angelique seemed to be babbling to herself more than to him, but he couldn’t help noticing the pale color of her cheeks when she moved backward against the corner of the carriage.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked with a concerned frown.

“How did you get here?” she asked absently.

“I sailed here on my ship, the Iron-Fist,” he answered. “You don’t have to worry. I may be a pirate, but I gave my word to your father to take care of you.”

“Not possible,” she mumbled again, just as the carriage hit a hole in the road and tossed her forward, straight into his strong embrace.

“Relax, Angelique,” he said next to her ear as he held her tightly. “I won’t hurt you.”

“No…,” she said as she looked up. She didn’t even attempt to move from his embrace and he wasn’t in any hurry to release her. “I know you won’t…I dreamt it…I dreamt…you.”

Ian had no control over his actions, but the look in her violet eyes was mesmerizing and all he could think of, was her taste. He had to know what it was like.

Slowly, he leaned into her as their eyes locked and the instant their lips touched, Angelique felt a heat spread all the way down her neck to settle between her legs. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck as the pressure of his mouth increased against hers and there was no way either of them was going to break contact with the other.

A soft moan escaped her throat and she felt the heat increase as the tip of his tongue traced the outline of her bottom lip. He gently bit the tender flesh, sucking on it in an act that made her breath escape her lungs in soft pants. Ian could feel her surrender immediately and he increased his assault on her lips by thrusting his tongue between her teeth. He knew he had to stop, he had to get a grip of his senses, but as long as the carriage was still moving, he had time to explore her sweetness.

Angelique felt the heat of his hand move to her breast and her back arched toward him as she slowly battled with his tongue against hers. She wanted to feel him touch her as he did in her dreams and she never wanted it to stop.

Ian’s mouth left hers, burning a heated path of desire down her cheek, across her jaw and around her neck. He nipped softly at the tender flesh, making her moan even louder. One hand massaged her full breast beneath the thin material of her mourning gown, while the other holding her, moved down her hip.

The carriage slowed and turned, and he knew they had arrived back at the palace. He had to break contact with her immediately before her guards found them and mistook their position.

“Guards,” he heard Red call to them as they climbed down the carriage.

The door opened just enough to allow the warm tropical breeze to enter, but it opened no wider than a crack. Ian could hear Red telling the men they were needed at the docks. A ship of sailors had decided to make port despite their orders not to, and the crew was in the process of being beaten by the pirates. He told them they needed additional help and Ian relaxed when he heard the men begin shouting as footsteps ran across the cobblestone drive.

They were given a reprieve, though he knew it was only temporary. He had to rein in his control and ease her out of his grip, but her body was the most inviting he had ever held. The desire to know her, to feel her against him, was mind consuming. He needed more, and he wanted to give her everything she was begging for.

“Darling, we have to stop,” he whispered warmly against her ear. “This isn’t the time or place for any of this.”

“I want you,” she heard herself whisper and felt the immediate response as he lifted her from the seat and sat her on his lap.

The rock-hard response he offered her assured her that he wasn’t going to stop. He eased the top of her bodice down as she purred, kissing his way across her soft flesh. She wanted this more than she ever had when they were together in her dreams. This felt too real…too intoxicating…too…real.

Ian felt her struggle in his embrace and he pulled his mouth off the round mound of her breast. He stared at her with a frown. Of all the times for her to regain her senses, it had to be just then, when he had released her hidden breasts from their black restraints of material.

“This is real,” she whispered and practically jumped to the seat across from him.

She sat there panting. The warm breeze from the open door blowing across the moist path of kisses he spread over her breast and she realized she was exposed to him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as she struggled to close her dress bodice. “Darling, are you alright?”

“This isn’t possible,” she said again causing him to chuckle.

“It is very possible, but I would have stopped before we went too far,” he assured her as he reached out and touched her knee. “I would never seduce you in the back of a carriage.”

“You’re not real!” she nearly shouted as she snatched her hat and bag from the seat next to him and pushed the door open.

She jumped out of the carriage and ran toward the front entrance of the palace. Just as she reached the top step, she felt the strong arms wrap around her and pull her back into his embrace.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, forcing her to look up at him. “One minute you’re as hot as a she-cat in heat, the next you’re running away like a frightened rabbit. You owe me an explanation.”

“You’re not real, I dreamt you up,” she mumbled as tears sprang to her eyes again. “I’m losing my mind. I can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s not.”

“I’m not a dream,” he assured her as he pulled her back against him. “I’m real and I’m right here. You’re not going crazy.”

Angelique drew a deep breath as the front door of the majestic palace opened and a stunned looking Rupert stepped out. Suddenly, the world seemed to spin around her, and she could no longer feel her feet against the ground. She felt like she was falling when suddenly she was lifted upwards and embraced by a sensation of warmth that she had always wanted to feel.

A heat that the sun itself could never provide, surrounded her like a thick blanket. This feeling of love and protection that cradled her like the babe she once was, reminded her of her lonely life and how desperately she wanted to feel this. She was surrounded by the love, a love that she had longed for her entire life, but never felt...until now.

“I swear, I don’t know what happened,” Ian assured Red once the problems at the dock were under control.

The man returned to the palace to check on his Captain, who he knew had stayed behind to protect Angelique. He had explained to his friend what transpired in the carriage and her reaction when she thought she had lost her mind.

“It could be that she’s just exhausted,” Red suggested.

They sat alone in the sitting room, talking, after having just eaten a large meal of roast pig, stewed tomatoes, boiled cabbage, roast potatoes, and fresh fruit.

“She kept saying I wasn’t real, that she had dreamt me up.”

“She’s been under a great deal of strain over the past few days. She hasn’t been sleeping well, Rupert told us that, and she’s facing a coronation she was nowhere ready for. She’s under a weight twice her size and she’s trying to deal with all of this on her own.”

“I understand that, but I can’t understand what she meant by dreaming me up.”

“Why don’t you go check on her, so we can get out of here,” Red stated, leaning back against the upholstered chair, kicking his feet up on the footstool.

They had stayed on at the palace after being served lunch to make certain Angelique was safe, but now it was for another reason. Ian demanded to know what she had meant by dreaming of him.

“It’s not proper to go to a woman’s bedroom unescorted,” Ian reminded the man, who had obviously forgotten what proper manners were. “Especially the future queen’s.”

“Well, go get a maid to go with you. We have to get busy moving the whores into the bordello.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Ian conceded a few minutes later.

He stood to go ask Rupert to have a maid escort him up to the princess’ room when the door opened, and the dark-haired beauty stepped in.

Angelique stared at Ian for several long moments before moving forward. She glanced at Red who had set the cigar he lit in the ashtray and stood from his seat. They were obvious pirates by their rugged looks and the cutlasses strapped to their waists, but she knew more gentleness than any pirate she had ever heard of before.

“I owe you a debt of thanks,” she said weakly as she moved to her usual seat and lowered herself onto the embroidered cushion. “Rupert told me you helped me when I fainted on the front steps.”

“Do you remember anything that happened before that?” Ian asked as he took the seat opposite her again.

“I may be tired, but I’m not senile,” she snapped then lowered her eyes from the warning that flashed through the attractive blue ones. “I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “I suppose these last few days have affected me more than I am willing to admit.”

“You’ve had a lot happen to you at once,” Red agreed, sitting down, and picking up the cigar again.

“What did you mean when you said you dreamt me?” Ian asked boldly, watching the expression of shock flash across her face.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she lied and immediately noted the accusing expression Ian offered her.

“Try again,” he ordered.

Angelique stood and paced her way to the window she had sat at for so many hours over the years.

“I had a dream and the man in it looked like you,” she told him, admitting to only half the truth.

“What sort of dream?” Ian asked gently, stepping up behind her.

She was so close to him he could feel her heat radiating against his chest and he closed his eyes briefly to savor it.

“It was just a dream,” she whispered, and he knew from the way she swayed, she too was feeling the heat. “It kept me comfortable during some pretty lonely nights.”

“Was it a good dream?” he asked her, his tone deep and seductive as he took a step closer that brought him within inches of her body.

“It was…a private dream,” she answered closing her eyes as he reached out and touched her shoulders.

“If I was part of it, then it’s not so private you can’t share it with me.”

Ian leaned slightly closer to her, his breath caressing the delicate flesh of her neck and she instinctively laid her head back against him. He caressed her cheek with his hair softened chin before turning his lips to touch the tender flesh. His kiss was warm, and she was forced to close her eyes to appreciate the sensation. His lips moved down her cheek to her neck as his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against him.

Angelique moaned softly as his hand began to caress the side of her breast before covering it with the heat of his palm. She felt the heat begin to mount between her legs and instinctively she pressed her bottom back against the hard sensation of his arousal.

“Tell me,” he whispered in her ear, gently kissing the lobe, suckling on the diamond earring she had secured in it.

“You are my secret lover,” she gasped as his tongue caressed her ear with a moist heat that sent her blood racing through her veins.

“Do you want it to just be a secret?” he growled softly in her ear.

Angelique had no control over her actions as she began to press her bottom tighter against the heat in his pants. She wanted to explore him the way she did at night, she wanted his hands caressing her and his lips exploring her, just as he did in her dreams.

Reality rose its head, and she quickly came out of the euphoric sensations of arousal. She pulled away from his inviting embrace, turning and locking her eyes with his as she tried to back away from him. She could only take one step before her knees hit the window bench and she stumbled to a sitting position.

Ian smiled wickedly at her, reaching out and cupped her cheek. For him, she was at the right angle to continue this erotic game, but he knew she was too innocent to do anything so extreme.

“Dreams have a way of coming true,” he told her, his eyes traveling down the front of her.

“No,” she snapped and pushed herself away from him.

She paced to the opposite side of the room then glanced back to Red who had remained silent during the erotic exchange between them.

“I thank you for your assistance today,” she said in a husky voice. “My father was a stranger to me, but he was my father, never the less. I will be forever in your debt for the protection you have provided to Westerly and the kindness you have shown to me. I have my own guards, however, so your service will no longer be necessary. I’ll have Rupert show you out. Please tell him the price for your services and I’ll see to it you receive it before you leave port.”

Angelique walked out of the room as quickly as possible and headed straight up the stairs to her private room. She closed the door and leaned against it, panting violently. Her heart was beating so loudly, it sounded as if it were knocking against the door’s barrier. Then she realized it wasn’t her heart at all, but an actual knock. It was a loud, hard sound against the thick barrier. With a quick squeal, she jumped away from the door as it was pushed open and Ian casually walked through.

He was there, in her room, just as he had been in her dreams. She couldn’t utter a word. Instead, she backed away while he entered the room, closing the doors without turning around. His eyes locked with hers, and he slowly, methodically began to approach her. He could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, but she had angered him with her offer of payment. He had no idea what he would do if her guards were called out to assist her, but right now all he wanted was to pull her across his knee.

“I made your father a promise, and I am not about to relent on it,” he said in a deep tone as he continued to step closer to her.

“W…what promise?” she asked as she backed up slowly toward her bed.

“I told him I would see that his bordello was set up and running efficiently before I left, and I promised to take care of you. Right now, you’re about a heartbeat away from being taken care of, one way or the other.”

“What do you mean?” she asked as she once again fell backward, this time bouncing on the soft mattress of her bed.

“My word to your father is worth more to me than your money ever will be,” he growled down at her, stopping, and wrapping her hair around his large hand, tipping her head upward to see her eyes. “As for taking care of you, you’re in danger of being spanked for your insult.”

“W…what insult?” she asked hesitantly, uncertain if she should attempt to stand or stay where she was.

“You will never be able to pay me what my word is worth,” he assured her when her door swung open and a maid entered along with a breathless Rupert, who was followed close behind by Red. Ian chose to ignore all of them and prove to the wench - royalty or not - that he was serious, and she was one of the things he planned to deal with.

He pulled her to her feet with a firm grip of her hair, yet he knew he wasn’t hurting her. He held her close to him as he leaned in and whispered against her ear.

“As for your dreams,” he began before kissing her ear and quickly tracing the outline with his tongue, “we will deal with those in good time.”

Ian tipped her head backward with his hand still wrapped in her hair and covered her mouth with the heated demand of his own. His tongue darted out to invade the sweet recesses of her mouth, as he continued to press hard enough to bruise her lips. A soft moan escaped her throat but was absorbed easily by his mouth.

“Until we meet again,” he assured her, releasing his firm hold on her and allowing her to fall back onto the bed.

Turning on his heel he marched to the door, pausing only for a moment as he glanced back across his shoulder to the stunned woman.

“Consider that a down payment of your debt,” he told her, then pushed his way past the two servants blocking the door and continued down the stairs and out of the house to the hired horses Red had secured for them.

Angelique couldn’t move for several long moments as Rupert and her maid stared at her with alarm. They weren’t sure what they should do. Do they call out the guards or offer her a cool bath? It wasn’t until she stood and cleared her throat that they realized she would be fine.

“Supper will be ready in an hour,” Rupert assured her skeptically.

Angelique nodded and watched them back out of the room, closing the door behind them. She fell to the mattress for the third time, allowing herself to flop unceremoniously across it. Her body tingled, and her lips throbbed, but it was her heart that was the most troublesome.

She had just found her dream lover, and she knew that her heart would only grow more attached to him. But he was a pirate. Ruthless and callous, though handsome, and seductive. One day, he would have no choice but to leave, and where would that leave her? Would she once again find herself sitting by a lonely window pining for a man, praying for a simple glimpse of his return?

Angelique sat up and looked at the closed door sadly. Tomorrow, she would be crowned queen, and soon she wouldn’t need the pirates around to protect her. The prospect wasn’t as pleasing as she would have thought it to be. She would be alone again, and he would be off on another adventure, seeking the arms of another woman.

Somehow, she had to prevent that from happening, she thought determinedly as she stood up and began to pace the floor. Perhaps, if she was to put herself in danger and needed a permanent guard…no, she had already assured him she had guards to protect her. Perhaps if she were simply to ask him to stay…but that wouldn’t work either. She’d already told him she didn’t need him, so how would she explain her sudden desire to keep him in her life?

Then a thought occurred to her. She could refuse to allow him to set up that home…that bordello. He promised her father he would see it started, but if she blocked those women from moving into that place, he would have to stay on the island. He would have to see her daily to try and convince her to allow Edward’s home to open.

The prospect of that seemed to hold merit. He would be at her mercy during the day as he begged for her acceptance and assistance, and at night in her dreams as her lover. She would have the best of both men. The real problem was, whether or not she had the courage to see it through.