A Kiss in the Wind by Jennifer Bray-Weber Page A

clumps of men fighting in the streets, drawing fists and drawing blood. Women dashed in directions of safety, fleeing from the horrors of rape and death, cradling their children and meager possessions to their breasts. Shouts and screams carried over the crackling, hissing sounds of burning wooden buildings, dying in the bright orange glow.
    Blade had to extinguish the urge to join in the affray. ’Twas hard to turn his back on a chance for a good fight. But he had other dogs to whip. Although he now had the information to continue his mission, he still was without his cameo. He figured he would be long tired of whipping before that wench stopped toying with him and returned it. Enough. When he got her back to his ship, he would spare no time stripping her for it. No more distractions. He would get his cameo back.
    They crossed the square, Blade heading them to the long street leading to the quay. The raid was at its densest here.
    This had to be Carrion’s doing, no doubt. But why would he choose Puerto Plata for a raid? This port served little more than to replenish ship provisions and perhaps dally in amber trade. Carrion wouldn’t be interested in amber—there was simply not enough profit. Something didn’t make sense. It didn’t feel right. He cursed to himself. Searching for Marisol instead of meeting with Carrion like he had intended had cost him time. If not for her…He ground his teeth.
    He stopped them at the other end of the square and clapped Lansky’s shoulder. “Good luck to you, my friend.”
    Lansky nodded and hurried away into the night toward The Harpy Wineskin on the other side of the bay, a flour cloud swirling behind him. If he made it, Kate would take care of him.
    Beside them, glass burst and a chair crashed through a nearby mercantile storefront window. They needed to keep moving. Blade pulled at Marisol to follow, but she stood steadfast, staring at the broken window. He pulled again and she refused to move. She kept staring at the window, beyond the window. Her eyes seemed sad, and the look of pain unexpectedly moved him like a glancing blow.
    A tall, young man stepped over the broken pane, his boot crunching on tiny shards of thin glass. He clutched a sack full of stolen goods in his hand. Curly brown hair just covered his eyes as they met Marisol’s in stunned silence. He took a crushing step forward onto the glass-littered sidewalk.
    “No,” Marisol mouthed.
    That was all Blade needed. He tugged her along as she continued to look over her shoulder at the man beginning to follow.

Chapter Four
    Blade shoved Marisol’s arm to Sam. “Take her on board,” he ordered. He only just caught the look of trepidation flitter in Sam’s ever-deepening frown. He swung around with his pistol raised to meet the man following them.
    “I think it unwise to come any farther,” he warned.
    The young looter stopped dead in his path. His brow knitted in anguish when he spoke. “But…but that’s my sister.”
    “Well, well.” Blade snorted. “It seems thievery is a family affair.”
    “You have my sister.” He dropped his sack, reaching for his rapier.
    “Do you wish to engage me, son?” Blade glared at him. The man’s fingers twitched over the sword’s handle as much as the indecision flickered in his eyes. He must be handy with the weapon to think he could incapacitate Blade while staring down the barrel of his gun. Either that, or he was extremely stupid.
    He watched Blade’s trigger finger for a moment then met his stare. “What do you want with Marisol?” he asked.
    The way the young man pronounced her name caused a lurch within Blade’s chest. He said it with such love and it sounded so musical. Ugh. He hated having a conscience. Made it hard to be ruthless. More so since it involved a woman. He was not used to acting fierce with the fairer sex. Unless, of course, it involved a bit of play acting between the sheets.
    Blasted wench.
    He shook his head. “You can have her back as