The Spiteful Vixen Read online

  “No, I don’t have to worry--as long as you are secured to your bed,” the deep voice said sarcastically.

  Olivia tilted her head back to try and use the minimal vision she had at the corners of her nose, she could just make out a pair of thick thigh muscles under taut leather pants pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. She tried to angle back more to see further up but froze when she found herself catching a glimpse of his protruding manhood beneath the leather. She audibly gasped. Then whispered in a panic, “What do you intend to do with me?” She was appalled that visions of some of the sinister things he may have in store for her were actually making her a little exhilarated.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” he said in an alluring tone. “It will depend on how well you, eh, behave.” Olivia did not miss the inference in his voice, or the way his accent made the words sound more thrilling than threatening.

  “I’ll behave, just please remove the fabric from my eyes. I want to see you,” she stated rather boldly.

  “Oh no,” he said. “If you see me, I will have no choice but to dispose of you. I can’t have someone able to identify me, that would be the end of my, eh, business.” He stated this so emphatically that Olivia knew there was no sense in arguing. “Why were you a passenger with this shipment anyway, Miss Clairmond?” her name sounded intoxicating in his mouth.

  Olivia was so entranced with his voice that she had no ability to think up a lie. “I am to go to England to stay with my aunt. She is to introduce me into English society and find me a suitable husband,” Olivia said remorse ribboning through her words. “My father is getting remarried and am I to be married as well.”

  As Olivia spoke, one of her dark brown tendrils slipped in front of her shoulder and was brushing her mouth. She was trying to use her delicate mouth to move the hair away. Then, she felt a rough finger gingerly sweep it away from her mouth and placed it back behind her shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she said earnestly.

  “So, you are going from one imprisonment to another,” the smooth voice said quietly.

  “I guess you could view it in that manner,” Olivia said, a quiet laugh escaped her lips. She was silent for a moment. She heard him start to pace again at the foot of the bed. “Do you know what has become of a slave girl named Daisy?” she asked, hope coloring her voice.

  “She was sent on to England where she may not be enslaved,” he said anger clouding his words.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Olivia let out the breath she was holding, thankful that Daisy was alive.

  “Are you so concerned about a mere slave?” he asked bemused.

  “She’s not just a slave, I have known Daisy since we were young girls. I care for her,” she said, not withholding emotion. Olivia strained against her ties again, “I know I am aboard the Diablo Vengador, and you must be Corazón Oscuro, the ‘dark- hearted’ pirate...are you going to kill me?” she asked in a small voice. Then added, “Or worse?” even more softly.

  He gave a throaty laugh, “I see my reputation precedes me. No, I don’t intend to harm you, but I have done many things in life that I never intended. Now, if you’re done struggling, I will at least remove the binding from your ankles.”

  She nodded and he sat at the foot of the bed. He traced his fingers down the last few inches of her ankle, above the binding. He took his time delicately unfastening the knot. Olivia again tried to peer beneath the blindfold and was just able to make out the left side of his tan face. His jawline was strong and stubbled as if he hadn’t shaved clean for a day or two. She thought she saw a scar just below his chin.

  Then she closed her eyes beneath the eye cover and focused on his fingers as they moved to release the rope. He angled to begin work on the other ankle restraint; deft fingers untying the knot slowly and gently. Olivia was almost lost in the feel of his hands on her ankles as she shook herself back to reality. This was her chance! Just as he released the second ankle, she used all the force she could muster and kicked him as hard as she could in the face.

  He bellowed loudly. Though he was caught off-guard, he was fast to react and had secured her ankles again before she could even begin to think what to do next. The entire time he was knotting and triple-knotting her ties, he was swearing under his breath in Spanish. He pulled the last knot too tight and Olivia gasped. He emitted another naughty word in his native tongue.

  “You spiteful vixen!” he shouted at her while holding his eye. She couldn’t be sure exactly where she had hit him, but it seemed he wasn’t permanently harmed, just injured. “It will be a long time before you are allowed any latitude,” he barked at her slamming the door behind him.

  Olivia was relieved that she was still mostly unharmed, but was feeling extremely vulnerable, completely trussed up and unable to see. Her ankles were chafed and though she tried to be brave, a whimper escaped her lips just before a stream of tears began to flow down her face.

  She laid immobile, sniffling and taking in small gasps of air trying to focus on the positive. She was sheltered, she thought she may be fed at some point, and she still had her virtue, if not her freedom. Corazón Oscuro’s words echoed through her mind, So you are going from one imprisonment to another.

  It was at that moment that she realized that there was no way out for her. Even if she were able to escape her binding and her cabin, where would she go? What would she do? Who knew where they were in the ocean? She had no rescue ship and no way to contact her father. Even if she managed a way out of this mess and was able to get to England, what awaited her there? Parties with society’s finest families, yes--but all would culminate with her being married off to a stranger. She sobbed and sniffled as her situation seemed hopeless.

  What she didn’t know was that Corazón Oscuro had been standing outside her door. He held his injured eye which was beginning to swell and would eventually blacken. He could withstand most forms of torture, his pain threshold was impressive, but one thing he could not endure was a woman crying. He grumbled under his breath, “I must be mad,” He unlocked the door and entered.

  Instantly, Olivia stopped crying and pointed her chin in the air to try and see who had entered her room. “Richard?” she asked hopefully. When there was no response she continued, more tentatively. “Corazón Oscuro?”

  He grabbed a scrap of fabric and silently blotted her face and nose and dabbed under her blindfold. Then he spoke in a calm, but stern tone, “I am going to untie your hands so you can properly blow your nose. If you touch your blindfold or try to escape you will be punished. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said meekly, still feeling the gravity of her situation. He slowly and gently removed the ties at her wrist and then thrust the makeshift handkerchief into her hands. She dabbed her face and then delicately blew her nose. The small kindness broke something within her and she placed her arms out in front of her until she felt his broad chest. Without thinking, she grabbed his arms and pulled herself into his body, sobbing against his chest.

  He was utterly confused; he couldn’t remember the last time someone had trusted him so implicitly and demonstrated such vulnerability in his presence. He paused for a breath, and then took her in his arms and let her cry herself out. As she absorbed the warmth and strength of his body, her sobbing slowed to a sniffle. Eventually, she pulled away, and with the blindfold still in place said, “Thank you.” Then she bit her lower lip, and continued, “What is your name--I mean, your real name?”

  “Juan.” He responded without thinking; she just seemed so earnest and fragile. At that moment he would have done anything to keep her safe.

  “Thank you, Juan,” she said with a small smile.

  Juan knew her face was beautiful, but at even that hint of a smile, she became positively exquisite.

  “I’m sorry for kicking you,” she apologized. “I didn’t think...I--I just reacted.”

  “I’ll survive,” he replied, touching his eye. “I’m sorry for having to blindfold and restrain you. Truly, the blindfold is for
your protection,” he stated emphatically.

  “I understand,” she said, resigned to follow his rules...for now. “I promise I won’t fight you, or try to escape. But, may I please have some water? I’m very thirsty.”

  He took a glass from the side table and poured rum from a bottle. She heard the glass fill and licked her lips in preparation of the soothing liquid. “Here,” he said, his accent heavy. Watching her lick her lips did not go unnoticed and he found himself drawn to Olivia. Instead of taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately, as he found himself wanting to do, he thrust the glass into her outstretched hands.

  She raised the glass to her lips and drank deeply, choking as the warm liquid caught her off guard. She took in some air with her gulps and began to cough. Juan patted her on the back and she regained her normal breathing, “Not water,” she stated quietly.

  Juan took this opportunity to gently take her hands and retie them to the bed frame. He needed to leave her cabin before he did something he might regret. “I will send Richard in a moment with some food and he can untie these and remove your blindfold.” She nodded as he closed the door silently behind him.

  Chapter Four

  Juan was true to his word and sent Richard in after he had left. Richard immediately removed her eye-cover and undid her wrists. He then placed a tray with food on her lap. Olivia caught the questioning look as he eyed the restraints on her ankles.

  “I tried to escape,” she replied shrugging while sitting up and starting to pick at her food. “Thank you for this,” she said, nodding toward the tray.

  “You must have done a number on the captain,” he said shaking his head in disbelief.

  “What do you mean?” she asked nibbling at some bread and sipping tea.

  “He said no one is to go near this cabin except for him and me. He threatened death if anyone lays even an eye on you.” Richard sat down in the chair across the room.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” she said, taking another sip of the soothing tea. “He must trust you a great deal,” she postulated with a raised eyebrow.

  “I hope so. Though I’ve only been on The Diablo for about a year,” he stated, seeming to enjoy her company and resting his feet on the edge of her bed.

  “Well, I realize that he has little reason to trust me, since I kicked him in the face...but I gave him my word that I wouldn’t fight or try to escape,” she said stoically.

  Richard was trying to hide his laughter. “You mean that blackened eye is from you--not the mainmast line as he claimed?” he continued with a boyish chuckle.

  “I--I, well, I can’t be entirely sure it was my doing, I was blindfolded at the time,” Olivia quickly retracted.

  “You got him in the face while blindfolded?!” Richard bellowed. “Oh, I can’t wait to inquire again about that injury.” Then he mumbled to himself, “But I probably shouldn’t.”

  Olivia looked concerned, “He’s not permanently, eh, damaged, is he?” she asked hesitantly.

  “No, Miss Clairmond. It’s just a blackened eye, it’ll be fine in a few days. I’m sure it just hurt like hell--oh, pardon me, Miss. I am not used to a woman’s gentle sensitivities,” he said feeling guilty. Then, he noticed the look of sorrow on her face. “Don’t fret, the captain can certainly take a beating. He has scars all over his body to prove it. But, usually they aren’t from females...and a petite one at that,” he finished eyeing her slight size while still laughing to himself.

  They spoke for a few more minutes and then Richard rose from the chair. He looked apologetic as he said, “I’m sorry, Miss. But I was told to allow you to use the….well, to allow you to...” he trailed off and nodded toward the small door in the cabin, “and then to replace your restraints and blindfold before I leave.”

  Olivia looked aghast, but she most definitely needed to use the privy. She rolled her eyes and then finally nodded at Richard. He then undid the knots at her ankles and shrugged, embarrassed, as he stated, “I’ll just wait outside the door, Miss.”

  Olivia attended to her personal needs and then freshened up a bit before she opened the door and nodded for Richard to come back in. While she peered into the hallway, she noticed that there were about five more doors to her right and a dead end to the left. She reasoned that she must be at the stern of the ship and found herself wondering how close in proximity she was to Juan’s quarters.

  Richard was standing at the edge of the bed holding the restraints and looking very guilty about having to redo them. “Are you sure there is nothing else you need, Miss?” Richard asked, trying to sound very grown up.

  “Just safe passage back to Barbados,” she muttered under her breath.

  “The captain is just doing what’s in your best interest, you’re safest if--”

  “My best interest?!” Olivia responded incredulously. Her fury began to gain momentum as the events collided in her mind and made her livid. “It is in my best interest to be returned to my home and my father back in Barbados! It is in my best interest to not be tied down to a bed and blindfolded. It, God help me, is even in my best interest to continue to England to my aunt and find a proper bloody match...but it is most definitely not in my best interest to continue being held hostage by a tyrant who is too cowardly to even show me his face!” she finished, breathing hard and flushed in the face.

  She stood her ground another moment and then said, “To hell with my bloody promise, I will find a way off this ship and back to Barbados on my own!” With that, she grabbed the bottle of rum and threw it towards Richard and then bolted out the cabin door to the right leaving him ducking by the edge of the bed still holding the ties.

  She ran down the hallway and was climbing the ladder to the upper deck, when she felt a strong hand around her ankle. “What do we have here?” asked a sinister voice with neither Richard’s nor Juan’s familiar tone. She tried to kick him off but ended up tangling her foot in the bottom of her dress and stumbling off the ladder.

  “Take your hands off of her. Captain’s orders,” Richard’s voice cracked as he came through sounding more stern than ever before.

  “What are you going to do about it, Dick?” asked the other man. “The captain’s not here, and now I think I have dibs on the little lady,” he sneered.

  Richard pulled a flintlock pistol out of his coat and aimed it directly at the other man, “Miss Clairmond, please step towards me,” he said meekly.

  She nodded and started to inch towards Richard when the man grabbed her around the waist, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” he said into Olivia’s neck, she could smell the stale liquor and smoke lingering on his breath. “The little bitch stays with me until I get what I want, then you can have her,” he spat at Richard. The man started running his hand up and down her thigh. Olivia squirmed and tried to turn away from the brown, rotting teeth as he tried to kiss her.

  “Miguel, this is your last warning,” Richard said, holding his gaze, the pistol a little shaky, “let her go, or I’ll shoot.”

  Miguel slowly licked the side of her face and she whimpered. “I think she might be worth the threat--I’d bet this one’s a virgin. She sure is struggling like she hasn’t felt a real man in her tight cunt.”

  Olivia tried to scream and Miguel covered her mouth with his and thrust his tongue in her mouth. She bit down as hard as she could on his tongue and he reeled and released her. Then, Miguel regained his senses and his anger flared. He took a step toward her, “You bitch!” He back-handed her and she flew to the ground, sharply hitting her head on the deck.

  She struck the planks with such a strong force that her cheek bone felt shattered. She saw starbursts behind her eyes and her head was pounding. Olivia knew she needed to move, but couldn’t seem to get her body to budge. She heard a commotion near Miguel, but only caught fragments: What happened?...Is she okay?... Then she heard a pistol shot. Then, Olivia thought she heard swearing in Spanish.

  Next, she was being lifted by a strong pair of arms. She began to struggle, but
the arms protectively encasing her felt familiar and it was useless, all of her fight was gone. Her head lolled to the side and she tried to get her eyes to focus. All she could make out was dark hair and eyes, skin with a deep tan, and stubble along the chin.

  Juan eased her through the doorway to his cabin and gently placed her on his bed, “She doesn’t leave this room. No one enters. Stay with her until I return,” Juan barked at Richard.

  Olivia was going in and out of consciousness. She felt like she was spiraling down into a black void. A few minutes later, Juan burst back through the door and Richard jumped, ready for action. “At ease,” Juan smiled at his reaction. “Has she come around?”

  “No, just in and out. She hasn’t opened her eyes, but she mumbled something a few minutes ago, though I couldn’t tell what she was saying,” Richard said apologetically.

  Juan was examining the mark on her cheek and winced when he turned her face toward the light of the candle. “How did she get out? What happened?

  “I--well, you see--” Richard started, but was fumbling through his words.

  “You couldn’t keep her in her cabin, so I will keep her in mine. Leave.” Juan said to Richard, not leaving any room for discussion.

  “Aye, sir,” Richard replied and closed the door of the cabin behind him.

  Juan turned his attention back to Olivia, who was still struggling. Her breaths had become more shallow, and Juan looked on feeling helpless. He noticed how tight her corset was laced and began to loosen them. Her breathing eased a bit. So, he shrugged and undid them altogether, assuming that breathing was better than modesty.

  When she seemed to be resting more easily he laid down next to her and watched her for as long as his eyes could remain open.

  ********

  Juan had woken up to Olivia breathing easily and snuggled into the crook of his arm. Instinctively, Juan had a solid arm around her small body. When he determined that she was resting comfortably he slid out from under her head and placed a satin strip over her eyes and tied her wrists again, securing her to his bed. She didn’t even stir, and he took a moment to reflect on how much he enjoyed seeing her trussed to his bed. He left her legs untethered, thinking that may be too much for her after the last night’s events.