Guilty Pleasures Read Free

over six feet in height. His hair, which was pulled back and obviously held by a ribbon, was bleached golden by the sun, and his piercing eyes were a startling sea blue. He was dressed in traditional pirate garb: breeches held up by a wide belt, boots, and an open linen shirt that revealed a smooth, well-muscled expanse of perfect pecs. In his left ear was a small, round golden earring.
    Now where the hell had he come from? Carla wondered. She certainly hadn’t ordered him up, but she had to admit he was a yummy specimen and quite new to her. Still, she had created this island so she might have her privacy. “How dare you enter my home uninvited?” Carla said angrily. “Who are you?”
    “The name is Hawke, Captain Raven. Lord Julian Hawke, and ’tis you who are trespassing, not I,” the big man said. “Amorata Cay belongs to me.”
    “It most certainly does not,” Carla said vehemently. “I won it in a card game in Jamaica several years ago. I built this house as my refuge.”
    “The man who wagered it had not the right,” Hawke answered her. “Had he lost heavily to you?”
    Carla nodded. “He wanted one more hand, but had no coin. He told me he owned a small island, Amorata Cay, and he would wager it against all I had won that evening.”
    “But he lost,” Hawke said.
    “He lost,” Carla replied as she considered just how this man she had never imagined had ended up in her fantasy. He had moved farther into the room, and as he did, she looked past him and saw Violetta upon her bed, her legs wrapped about the torso of a rather beefy man who was fucking her for all he was worth. Well, the wench was no virgin. Carla had caught her several times with the men servants. “Get out of my home,” Carla said again. “And take that randy pig fucking my servant woman with you.”
    “Nay, Captain Raven, ’tis you who must leave,” Hawke told her in a hard voice.
    “This is my house!” Carla said angrily. Damn! The water in her tub was practically cold now.
    “And ’tis my island,” he responded. “It would seem we are at an impasse, madam. I suppose we shall have to take this matter to Governor Morgan in Jamaica to be settled, but I cannot see him awarding you my property.”
    “Where were you these last three years?” Carla demanded to know. “Why would you think I would believe you just because you have said that Amorata Cay belongs to you? Where is your proof? And aye! We will take this to the governor in Jamaica. He is a dear friend of mine despite that ridiculous but flattering bounty he put on my head.”
    “Would you like to get out of that tub?” Hawke asked casually. “I’m of a mind to follow my first mate’s example.” He turned his head. “Nestor! Take your wench somewhere else. There have to be other bedrooms in this big house. I want some privacy when I do her mistress. When you’re through, make certain the men have secured everything and send back to the ship to come around to Half-Moon Cove and anchor.”
    “Aye, Captain!” Nestor called. Still buried deep in Violetta, Nestor picked her up and walked slowly from the bedchamber.
    Hawke handed Carla a large towel. “Dry yourself off,” he said. “I’m not of a mind to fuck a woman who is so oily she keeps slipping out of my grasp.”
    “Go to hell!” Carla snapped. She hadn’t ordered this man up—or had she when she had hoped for something more exciting in her fantasy? Well, she would tolerate him as long as he amused her. Would he amuse her? She glared up at him.
    “You’re a disobedient wench, aren’t you?” he said drily.
    “I am not a wench,” Carla protested. “I am Captain Raven of the good ship Venus . I am very well respected here along the Spanish Main. As for you, I have never heard of a Captain Hawke.” She snatched the towel from him and stood to wrap it about her as she stepped carefully from her tub.
    “I’ve been gone back to England for several years,” he said, “which is why some thief was