The Pirate Bride's Holiday Masquerade (Available as an Ebook Now!)

Chapter 1

"I want to spend Christmas in la Nouvelle-Orléans, mari."

Bloody hell. Where had this brainstorm come from? And, even more importantly, why? Captain Andre Dubois, most fierce pirate of the Caribbean, stared at his beautiful wife of three years, and wondered at her sentiment.

From what he could remember, Christmas in the Vieux Carré was typically loud, smelly, and often bawdy. Which wouldn't faze him normally. The wilder, the better. But seeing it now from a happily married man's viewpoint, he couldn't understand his wife's desire. Running around the Quarter chasing whores and drinking himself unconscious didn't hold the same appeal it once had. And he couldn't see any appeal in it for his wife. In fact, he hadn't spent la saison de Noël within the city in years. It dredged up memories better left forgotten. No, his best Christmases had been spent shipboard, or in other, exotic locales, traipsing after a father fleeing his own seasonal ghosts, and later, escaping his own personal demons.

Sophie Bellard Dubois posed a strong argument, however, sitting at the edge of their bunk, delectably nude and pleading. She swayed his distaste for the holiday with just her feminine charms. Long, dark hair waved over creamy white shoulders, while sable lashes fluttered over mesmerizing, sapphire eyes now locked onto his brown ones.

Bloody, buggering hell. Andre heaved a heavy sigh. His love and desire for her knew no bounds. Already he wavered, his blackguard heart beating within his chest turning traitor at just the sight of her begging in her bare skin.

Begging? Sophie never begged; nor did she whine. Yet here she sat, doing both, and mighty prettily, he might add. Feeling that familiar thrum of desire begin to throb in his veins, Andre could almost ignore the reasons for her supplications. Almost. But, here came that blasted good streak, that kind streak, raising its perfidious head amongst his lack of morals.

Her continued argument interrupted his weakening spirit. "We've been at sea for months, Andre, only stopping in to see Limey and Ting's new baby. I want to feel solid ground under my feet again. I want to see Christmas candles, sing carols. I want to be home for the holiday."

Home? He narrowed his eyes on his wife's face. Didn't she consider the Jade Princess her home? It bloody well was his. La Nouvelle-Orleans was his father's home, not theirs. Only old seadogs, who had long been retired, called terra firma their home, and, Andre knew damn well he didn't fit into that category. There was a lot of sailing and looting left in his bones. Looking closely at his naked and waiting wife, he amended that thought. There was a lot of sailing, looting, and lovemaking left in his bones, the last being the first he wished to act upon.

Shifting his now-aroused, equally naked body against the pillows and resting his head against one bent elbow, he exhaled again. He already knew he'd be acquiescing, drat his soul. Saying no to Sophie Dubois wasn't in his vocabulary, especially not when she looked as she did now, all soft and pink and willing...However, it didn't mean he couldn't make her work for his capitulation, did it?

Allowing a calculating smile to cross his face that his wife couldn't fail to recognize, he crooked a finger at her. "Come here, ma trésor, and explain to me exactly why Christmas on the Princess is no longer satisfactory. We enjoyed this same holiday in the islands last year, and you did not complain. In fact, you said you never wanted to be anywhere else than sailing the high seas. What is the difference this year, hmmm?" His voice, which usually struck fear in the unsuspecting, had no effect on his wife whatsoever.

Instead, the lovely extortionist began to crawl up the length of his body, her two most valuable bargaining chips capturing his attention with every sway. But Andre could maintain self-control when needed, and this moment demanded explanation. So, swallowing a whimper at what he must ignore, he snared Sophie's troubled gaze while remaining uncharacteristically silent.