Forbidden Desire. Tina Donahue

trees? Tall? Short? Those with large leaves? Others with small ones?”

      Follie had said Heath needed wood to build cribs for the coming infants. A task Royce had set him to do. “The sturdy ones.” What other kind could he use to make a bed?

      Netta gestured to the trees surrounding them. Sunlight streamed through the heavy canopy and left bright dots on her palm and hair. “These look sound to me.”

      “They have no berries nearby. We need to search for the bushes that do.”

      “Where?”

      “There.” Aimee pointed. Once they roamed that area, they could try another. Eventually, they’d come upon Heath.

      She wandered through the woods, neck craned, alert to every sound.

      Birds squawked and sang. Lemurs or other animals bounced the branches and shook leaves. Spotted butterflies took wing. Ones bluer than the sky joined them.

      “Wait.” Netta inclined her head. “The red berries are over there. Enough to fill our sacks.”

      “Those are the wrong ones.”

      “How can you tell?”

      She asked too many questions. “Because I can. Over here.” She avoided leaves and twigs that might mask other sounds.

      Netta wasn’t as careful. Shuffling and crackling noises announced her steps.

      Aimee stopped. “You need to be quiet.”

      “Why? Will the berries hear us and run away?”

      “You may coax out a snake.”

      Netta chuckled. “Noise frightens the creatures. It never causes them to strike.”

      “If you stand near one, it might.” A yellow snake slithered back into the foliage.

      Netta shuddered. “I promise to take care.”

      “While you follow me, you should look at the ground to make certain we avoid anything that might hurt us. I can search for the berries.”

      They prowled through the vegetation. The air grew warmer, the breeze died down, and animals quieted, already sluggish from the increasing heat.

      Perspiration clung to Aimee’s throat, intensifying her flowery scent. She ached to smell Heath’s. Fevered and wanting, she rushed through the vegetation.

      Netta trotted to keep up. “Why are you running?”

      Aimee halted.

      Netta bumped into her and sucked in a breath.

      Before Netta could flee, Aimee grabbed her arm.

      Heath stood within a stand, his back to them. A large blade hung from a loop in his waistband. He ran his palms over a slender trunk and shook it.

      Birds squawked. One left a nest and dove at him, its wings flapping furiously.

      He covered his head and ducked. The thing persisted, trying to peck.

      Netta pulled away from Aimee. “Take care!”

      Heath twisted to her. The bird followed him. He staggered back.

      Aimee waved her arms to frighten the thing. “Shoo. Go away.” Netta threw a rock.

      The bird shot back to its nest.

      Netta reached him first. “Are you hurt? Did it peck you?”

      “I don’t think so.” He ran his hands over his face and naked chest. “Is there any blood?”

      “No.” Aimee cradled his freshly shaved cheek, her thumb on his bottom lip. Never had she felt anything as silky and warm.

      Netta touched his chest. “The mama was only trying to protect her brood.” Tiny chirps sounded. “You need to be careful.”

      “I shall. I didn’t know they were there. I…ah…I…”

      Aimee leaned in. “You what?”

      He made a frustrated sound and pulled them into his embrace. He kissed Netta hard and long then Aimee.

      She accepted his tongue willingly.

      He tore from her too soon and returned to Netta. Back and forth he went, his passion deepening, their lips and mouths molding. They fought to get closer. Netta moaned. Aimee couldn’t find enough air to produce a sound.

      Heath pulled away and backed into a trunk. Longing blazed in his eyes. Fear too. “Go to the courtyard. Now.”

      Netta took Aimee’s hand. Together, they approached him, both of them brave.

      Aimee spoke first. “Why do we have to go?” No one was around. If they had been, she would have chased them away. “We want more of your kiss.”

      Netta squeezed her fingers. “Far more. Everything you have to give.”

      Sadness replaced his previous emotions. He spoke to Netta. “I want to apologize for the other night in the storage room. I didn’t mean to hurt you because of your…”

      She turned from him.

      He slumped. “Please don’t do that. You have no reason to hide from anyone. You and Aimee are the loveliest women I’ve ever seen. You’re both perfect. Exquisite beyond compare. You need men who’ll protect and love you.”

      Netta stiffened. “Other men. Not you.”

      “Never me.”

      “Because of my hand.”

      “I didn’t say that.”

      “I know what’s in your heart. I can see it in your eyes. Refuse me, if you must, but take Aimee. Make her yours. Love her.”

      “No.” Aimee wrapped her arm around Netta’s waist. “Love us both.”

      “I can’t.” His face reddened, neck muscles corded. “Netta, hear me out. What I’m saying has nothing to do with your hand. You’re beautiful. Always will be. Even if the pirates hadn’t done any harm, I can’t let either of you near me.”

      Aimee’s hope sank. “Because our skin is brown not white?”

      “Damnation. None of that bloody matters. The most enchanting Englishwomen can’t compare with the two of you. You’re too good for me. I’m nothing. I don’t deserve you. You need good men. Not—”

      “No.” Netta stamped her foot. “Never say those words again. No man is finer than you.”

      “I’m leaving the isle as soon as the other natives come here to trade or your people sail there to do so. Surely no more than a few months, hopefully in a week or two. Before long, I’ll be gone and won’t return. Ever.”

      Netta covered her mouth.

      Bile rose to Aimee’s throat. The world kept spinning and she couldn’t make it stop. “You want to leave because being with us makes you unhappy?”

      Heath growled. “Don’t you understand? I want you both too damn badly. It’s all I think about and dream of. I can’t—I won’t take either of you, alone or together. Matters are already settled. If you refuse to leave here, I will.” He sprinted into the forest.

      * * * *

      Canela hadn’t kept her word to speak to Vincent. She liked toying with him as he’d done with her. Let him think she’d forgotten what they’d discussed. Let him worry that she’d told their captors about his plan.

      More than once, he’d tried to catch her eye by whistling, waving his hand, or bouncing in place like a foolish child. She pretended not to notice. His scowl faded to concern then panic. The same as hers after his betrayal.

      Today he tended the hogs. His bony frame was no match for their bulk. Their snouts poked him. Their grunts and squeals demanded food. Snarling