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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Captured
Copyright © 2006 Celia Jade
ISBN: 978-1-55487-379-1
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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DEDICATION
To my wonderful husband Nikita, my loving parents and my sister for believing in me. A special thanks to eXtasy books for making this my very first conquest in writing.
Chapter One
Carthagena, 1655
Ramon Janez’ residence looked more like a fortress than any typical, flat-roof Spanish home. It was discreetly guarded by armed men who held various posts outside the massive building. The building itself was not unattractive but strangely looming with its high, tan and gray stone walls, and great arches flanked by pillars. It stood proudly within a good expanse of land dotted by hundreds of olive trees and a lush vineyard.
Ramon was a navigator and captain of his own impressive ship, La Alegria, named after his mother who died when he was young. His father was lost at sea when Ramon was twenty. He promised himself then that he would realize his father’s dreams and cross the great ocean for the western world. Life for him after that was not easy as he lived with the ill-reputed brother of his father and his disagreeable family. Not long afterwards, Ramon broke away from that family on rather bad terms and was shunned by them ever since. He grew into a strong and determined young man who strove to make worthy connections with noblemen and generals over the years and managed to gain a good measure of support and backing for his future trips. And lately, he had been very successful, even managing to secure a meeting with King Philip himself concerning the Armada’s voyage to Mexico. But after a brutal attack on his men only a month prior to the voyage, his chances of joining the fleet were practically eliminated.
His men brought the girl to him one evening after having kidnapped her in the main market of Murcia. A bitter taste entered his mouth as he sat in his study and waited for Sergi to bring her in. He sat at his desk when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Ramon answered in a deep voice and the door opened to admit his personal assistant — Sergi, and the girl. Sergi had her by the upper arm and led her into the room, closing the door behind him.
Ramon inspected her appearance briefly. He noted her slightly disheveled look from the long trip to his home. Her long, tousled hair had come free of its clip and several wisps hung loosely about her face, the latter sprinkled with tiny flecks of dust. She wore a rather casual, brown linen dress with minimal flounce, its neckline round enough to reveal flawless skin and delicate bones. Her bust was firm and rose proudly above the dress, whose sleeves stopped at the wrists, the material tapering becomingly at her narrow waist to end in a long flow at her ankles. She was of average height and would probably just reach his chest if he stood next to her.
The girl looked about twenty, he gathered, and was obviously stressed since her eyes were wide and her chest heaved as though she had been running. Ramon paused and stared for a moment, slightly taken aback by her striking beauty although his face didn’t reflect this. This was a product of his enemy, he thought and frowned.
“Miss Marquez, what is your given name?” he asked her.
The girl was quiet and Sergi tightened his grip on her arm. “Speak up,” he ordered.
She swallowed and replied in a small voice, “Alina.”
Ramon stood up and approached the girl. “Alina, do you know why you are here?”
She was silent again.
“Let me tell you,” Ramon continued. “Quite recently dozens of my men—my good sailors who had been preparing for a significant voyage, were attacked and beaten, some even killed in Carthagena, by your father.” He managed to keep his voice steady although he was incensed. He towered over her for a short moment. “Through you, I will get my revenge. Your father has chosen the wrong man to cross.”
Alina stared fearfully up at this tall, rugged man, stunned by the hatred mirrored in his dark gray eyes. She couldn’t begin to understand the meaning of this, let alone imagine her father killing innocent men. She watched as he moved to the window, the low heels of his botas beating against the wooden floor.
“Your father may have cost me the trip to the New World.” He stated and stared out at something quietly for a moment before returning to his desk. He took out a piece of paper and placed it on the hard surface. “Sergi, take this message for me.”
Sergi released her and took a seat at the desk, feather quill in hand. Ramon traced an invisible pattern on the heavy wood as he spoke. “Duardo Marquez…I have your daughter. She will be kept prisoner here because of your cowardly attack on my sailors…Unfortunately, she shall carry the burden of your acts as my personal punishment to you and a future warning…”
The man’s voice trailed off as he looked at Alina, who stood rooted to the floor as if in a trance. Again, his eyes ran the length of her slender body almost branding her with their intensity. She swallowed, feeling her mouth dry and her stomach clench. She wanted to flee but her legs wouldn’t budge.
He went on: “I wonder how you must feel knowing that your poor daughter shall suffer because of you. I think a meeting, man to man, is expected, if you ever want to see your Alina again.” He pulled his stare away from her and signed the bottom of the paper, his dark hair brushing the top of his shoulder as he leaned forward.
Alina’s gaze moved to his casual white shirt and the open collar that dipped to reveal the beginning of a solid, tanned chest, then lower to his trim waist and snug trousers that encased lean hips and muscular thighs.
“On second thought, Sergi, it would be quite disturbing to have Marquez come for his daughter too soon. I think I shall enjoy the pleasure of her company for a while,” he stated suggestively, making Alina’s heart jump nervously in her chest. “We’ll send the message in due time. Take the girl to her quarters and see to it that Maria is there. She already has instructions.”
“Yes Ramon,” Sergi replied and motioned to take Alina by the arm again but this time she retreated from the bald man’s hand.
Somehow she found her voice again. “You— you can’t do this— it’s kidnapping and— and—!” She couldn’t voice the word that meant what he had implied so she merely stared up at her captor condemningly.
To her shock he gave a brief laugh. “I’m afraid your fate has been stamped, my dear. Take her away—I don’t have any more time for this.” He motioned to the assistant with his large, tanned hand, and the next thing she knew, Alina was ushered away, through the door onto a large landing on a high floor that squared itself over some kind of workstation about fifteen feet below. She caught a glimpse of maps and linear drawings of sorts splayed out on the table and she turned to stare at the man who had stepped out onto the landing, watching as she was taken away.
“This is unjust—do you hear? I’ve done nothing wrong! My father will come for me—you’ll have to answer to him!” she shouted back at him but he remained silent, unmoved, no particular expression on his face, which infuriated her further.
She was taken down the landing and tried to pull out of the man’s grip but it only tightened, making her wince. He stopped to open a door. They went through to an adjoining corridor to the left, softly lit by several arched windows. She glanced out of one of them and caught a glimpse of olive trees as the sun began its descent.