Page 53 of The Moonstone Pirate
Deandra tipped her chin into the air. “I am not scared… I am respectful of Draco’s feelings. That is all. I cannot risk his disowning my father and me if we disobey him.”
Imogen felt a tug of remorse, but she knew Draco would never treat Deandra so cruelly. His every instinct was to protect his family. “Very well. You stay here while I sneak a peek. I won’t stay long, I promise. Just a quick look, and I’ll come straight back. He will never know I was there.”
She scooted away before Deandra could stop her, hopping over the stone wall between the garden and the meadow. She and Ella had enjoyed many picnics in this meadow, often with Phoebe or Chloe before those two married and had children. She did not bother with the cliff walk, for there was another path down from the meadow to the caves. It was a little steeper than the steps, but not all that difficult when one was prepared asshe was, having worn her sturdy walking boots instead of dainty slippers.
The tide was out and the wind gentle as it swirled around her body.
She carefully made her way down the last rocks and hopped onto the beach. The sand was soft and warm, and her boots sank in as she scurried toward the cave. Draco was working in there, for she heard the sharp clink of an axe striking rock as she crept in.
She paused a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. But it did not take long before she was on the move again, making her way toward a faint amber glow that emanated from the cavernous hollow and grew brighter as she made her way deeper in.
Parrot let out a joyful bark that resounded off the stone walls. In the next moment, he bounded toward her. “Hush, Parrot. Don’t give me away,” she whispered, knowing it was futile, since her voice also echoed off those walls.
The clink of the axe stopped.
She did not need to hear Draco’s footsteps to know he was striding toward her. “Imogen, bloody hell,” he said with a growl. “I might have known.”
He held a small pistol in his hand, and now slipped it back in the lip of his boot. She knew he had a knife hidden in the lip of his other boot. What other weapons were hidden on his person?
And why should she not feel safe when he was a walking arsenal and she knew he was always going to protect her?
He held a lantern above them while he frowned at her. The light cast shadows over his face so that he appeared quite sinister, but still incredibly handsome. He was not wearing a shirt, and she could not help but stare at the masculine contours of his body.
Huffing in disgust, he turned away and strode to one of the tables set up in the cavernous opening. He had piled his supplies atop it, along with his shirt. He donned the shirt, the sort a workman would wear, made of coarse cloth that plunged open at the front in a V shape and had lacings from the middle of his chest to his throat to properly close it up.
He did not bother to lace it up or tuck the shirt in before returning to her side. He had looked spectacular without it on, but even more so with it on. That coarse fabric strained against his muscled contours. He looked dangerous and divine. “Go away, Imogen.”
She might have obeyed if her body had not been in spasms over the sight of him. His scent was all male and held the hint of refreshing bay spices.
Oh, he looked so much like a pirate.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked as he turned away and stalked back to the table. She followed him, but dared not get too close, because he was frowning like the devil and obviously seething.
Not that he would ever hurt her.
She knew he wouldn’t.
She cast him a pleasant smile. “Now that I am here, why don’t I help you? Is that the old escape tunnel you are opening up again back there? That is an excellent idea. I know just where it lets out. And will you pile these crates in front of the tunnel to keep it hidden from view? I noticed you carrying crates down earlier. Is this what you intend for them?”
“Lord,” he moaned.
“Everyone in Moonstone Landing knows about this escape tunnel. But it was sealed up years ago, so I have never been through it myself. Now you have opened it up.” She followed him as he made his way through the opening to the other end, which had not yet been unsealed.
This was what he must have been working on these past few days.
The air was hot and stifling. She watched as he began to chip away at the sealed outer door. No wonder his gorgeous body had a sheen of sweat on it.
Dear heaven.
She had no idea a man could be so beautifully formed…or so magnificently muscled.
“You cannot tell anyone what I’m doing in here, Imogen.”
“I never would. It might put your life at risk. I know that.” She cleared her throat. “Might I suggest that you chip away at this escape door from the outside? You will suffocate if you don’t get some air.”
“I’ll be fine. Leave if you are uncomfortable.”
“I’m just sitting here watching you. You are the one expending all the effort. And using up all the air that’s fit to breathe. You’ll have an easier time if you break this blocked door down from the outside,” she repeated. “At least the air will be fresh and cooler.”
