Mary Rose cuffed her son's head. "Did you enjoy your evening?"

"She is something."

"Much like her father, I assume. Did you know she was his daughter?"

"Not until she mentioned it."

Mary Rose brushed some lint from her son's black jacket and fingered his collar, which had a red smudge on it. "When did you have time to talk?" she asked with a grin. He looked so much like his father, and probably had that Mediterranean sexuality as well, even though she never wanted to think about it.

Anton covered her cleavage with her shawl and said, "I could ask the same."

"Oh, please. I am too old to for such things."

"Yes, you are," Anton said. She turned abruptly to him to see he was serious. He didn't need to agree with her! He told her, "You are my mother, after all. Act like one."

"Excuse me?"

"He is not for you, mother, and you invited him to our home? In order for him to take inventory?"

"Do not be ridiculous," she admonished. Sure, the thought had come to mind, just after she had invited the Captain, but he wasn't like that at all, she had found out. He didn't play fast and loose with women...did he?

She watched Mazar hold the door of the hotel open for his daughter, and look in their direction. After another wave, he was gone.

Mazar and his daughter had arrived in a plush leather and velvet carriage complete with gold lanterns. It was driven by the hulking brute that Mary Rose had assumed was Mazar's right hand man when they first met. She wondered if he was also a bodyguard. For a pirate as egotistical as Mazar, he had to have many enemies, and that man was just large enough to fend them off. But why did he think he had to bring him to her hacienda? A show of force? Did he need protecting during the long ride from the coast? There was so much about that man she needed to find out, and the prospect of it excited her.

Mary Rose's help had worked overtime making sure the pork was roasted to perfection, the best bottle of wine in her cellar was opened to let breathe, and fresh flowers were set in every room to sweeten the air of her hacienda, which had been cleaned from top to bottom.

The carriage stopped and the door opened. Lust kicked Mary Rose as Mazar's long leg appeared from the back. He was dressed to the nines for their dinner date. The smart, black suit gleamed silver in the moonlight, his hair was tied neatly at his nape, and it looked again as if he had shaved carefully around his mustache and goatee. He stood outside the carriage and held his hand out to help his daughter down the step and to the ground. She was wearing a demure, empire-cut pink gown with matching silk shawl. Her long black hair had been swept up with ringlets caressing her shoulders. Her smile was wide and friendly, as father and daughter met Mary Rose on the porch.

"You look beautiful, Seņora," Mazar said as he bowed. "May I present my daughter, Carlotta. Carlotta, this is the legendary Mary Rose Guevara."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Seņora," Carlotta replied demurely as she extended her hand. "Thank you for inviting my father and me into your home."

"You are quite welcome."

Mary Rose shook the girl's hand and then felt her son's hand on her back. She moved aside as Anton took Carlotta's hand and said, "It has been too many hours since I have seen your lovely face."

"Down, boy," Mazar warned, and Anton stood straight with his eye on him.

"My son sometimes forget his manners in the presence of lovely seņoritas. Forgive him. He really is a gentlemen," Mary Rose said, as she nudged Anton. She knew he was overacting for some reason. "Right?"

"Of course." Anton shrugged, but smiled at Carlotta, who laughed. The short time they had had together before might have been long enough for her to see how unmannerly Anton could be.

There was an uncomfortable silence between Mary Rose and Mazar. To break the ice, she said, "You clean up well. I forgot to tell you that last time."

"Are you sure you forgot, or do you have nothing better to say?" he chided her. "I gather that compliments usually do not roll off your tongue."

"I have plenty to say, such as 'come inside, would you like some wine, do you like pork, stolen anything recently?'"

"Yes, to all of the above."

Anton offered his hand to Carlotta, who took it and was escorted inside. Mary Rose indicated the brute at the reins of the horses. "Is he coming as well?"

"Fox? No, he barely speaks Spanish."

"What nationality is he?"

"I am not sure."

"You have not asked him?"

"Why would I? I pay him, he is happy, I am happy." Mazar yelled out to Fox, who was just getting down from the buckboard, "Water the horses. We will be inside."

Mary Rose offered, "I could have a plate of food sent out for him."

"That would be nice, Seņora. Just do not let him use your best silver. You may not see it again."

Mary Rose turned to the house and felt his hand on the small of her back. She turned back to the pirate in order to make it known that it was not right, but at the same time felt a pleasant tickle sweep up her back. She watched Lorenzo Mazar in her home. Either he was good at covering his motives, or he wasn't in the least interested in her possessions. His eyes were mostly on her. She had invited him so fast, she hadn't taken his profession into consideration. As Anton had suggested earlier, Mary Rose had put her most treasured possessions away, just in case Mazar's eye fell on something he would decide he couldn't live without. Just to be on the safe side.

His eyes drank in the room with a quick glance, which didn't surprise her. Not that she was more interesting to look at, though she was, but the rooms were sparse. Mary Rose was at home on the sea and was only at the hacienda a few days here, a few days there all during the year. Why bother decorating to the hilt? Ever since Andres had died, Mary Rose spent even less time at the ranch, only coming to shore to see if her workers were, in fact, working. Ever since her right hand man, Geraldo, had been killed by Maria Teresa Alvarado, it had been hard to find someone she trusted as much to manage her affairs in her absence. She had been lucky after Geraldo was killed. She was able to find a married man, Manuel, who was doing a fine job of overseeing her land holdings and livestock, and whose family lived on her land. It was nice to have someplace to go on dry land, but she still had thoughts of selling the property to Manuel for a fair price.

Mazar produced a bottle of wine from under his coat, and Anton proceeded to pour it for the four of them as the cook entered to softly announce that dinner was ready. Mary Rose told her, "Keep it warm. We will be in to dine when we are ready."

"I see you do not beat around the bush with anyone, Seņora," Mazar said, as he made himself perfectly comfortable in a wingback chair in the parlor. "So, I shall not take your directness personally."

"Me? Direct? As opposed to you?" Mary Rose lightly laughed as she took her glass of wine from Anton. "You, Captain, are the most outspoken boor I have ever met. What you are doing in my home is really beyond me."

Carlotta spoke up. "Do not think he has not heard that before." Father and daughter exchanged a glance and smile. "She has you pegged, Papa." They clinked glasses and drunk their wine. "Thank you, Seņora. It is not every day a land owner invites my father and me to dinner."

"You usually enter through the back door, under cover of night, when the owners are asleep or away?" Anton asked, without hiding his disdain for the pirate.

Mazar looked down his nose at the youngster and scoffed. "If that is what you choose to believe. I will have you know, your father was no different than I."

"Oh, he was different," Anton argued, but held back his fury at what he must have imagined was an insult. "I have heard stories about you, Captain. Or should I say, AWOL Captain. Either the military would not have you, or you just fled."

"Or, I walked away from the violence," Mazar suggested.

There was a pause, as Mary Rose looked at the pirate in a somewhat new light. He couldn't take the killing, so he left the military to forge a new life? Just the thought of it made her chuckle, as she had, of course, heard stories of his pillaging ships and colonies on three coasts. Pretty soon, the whole room was filled with laughter.

Mazar said, "Anton, it was something between those two assumptions, as with most things in life. I will not provide easy answers for anything you wish to know. Now, if you do not mind, I am famished. Can we go eat that pork I smell?"

Dinner went well, with Mazar and Carlotta being gracious for the abundant food and hospitality, while Mary Rose tried to make them feel more welcome, aside from Anton's occasional, well-masked put-downs. Lorenzo Mazar acted much differently in the company of his daughter. The spark she felt for him when she had invited him to dinner, was nurtured as each passing moment showed more of a passionate, and even romantic, side of his initial boorishness.

Anton, stomach full, slid back his chair, took his gold pocket watch out and clicked it open. Mazar's eyes fell upon it immediately. "What an interesting watch," he said. "May I see it?"

"It was my father's," Anton told him as he held it so Mazar could see the Spanish flag etched on the front. Andres had that watch for years, and after he died, Mary Rose had gifted it to Anton as a remembrance of his father.

"Very nice, indeed," Mazar concluded, having not tried to touch it. "Where did your father get such a watch? Only military men were given them, after years of service. Andres was in the war?"

Anton closed the subject when he pocketed the watch and asked Carlotta, "May you allow me to show you the horses?"

"You have talked them up so much," Carlotta said, as she giggled. "I am expecting nothing less than horses fit for a king."

"You be the judge of that." He took Carlotta's hand in a gentlemanly manner, helping her from her chair.

Mazar said, "Fox is right outside." Mary Rose didn't know if that was for Carlotta's benefit or Anton's.

Carlotta grimaced and sighed. "I know, Papa. I will be fine. I do not need a chaperone."

"Let Fox be the judge of that," Mazar said, with humor, as they left.

After the young couple had gone, there was an embarrassing pause between them, with only the sound of the grandfather clock's ticking. Mary Rose fumbled with the lace on her dress as she watched Mazar out the corner of her eye. It was best to see how a man acted if he didn't know he was being scrutinized. He seemed casual as he sat silently, and then she realized he was doing the same with her. "Would you care for some brandy?" she asked, her voice cutting the silence.

"Yes, please."

She escorted him from the dining room to the salon and poured them both snifters of brandy as he slowly paced the room, his hands hooked behind his back. So mannerly. Not at all interested in taking or even touching anything. Mary Rose smiled and shook her head. Who was he kidding? She couldn't let the thought that he wanted something out of her head. Something more than just her. She handed him the snifter, and his finger brushed against hers. His dark eyes twinkled in the soft lantern light, indicating that he was thinking. What he was thinking, she could take a guess, when his eyes drifted down to her cleavage. Maybe all he wants is me after all.

She opened a humidor and offered him a tiperillo. He bowed gratefully when he accepted it and took the flint from the box to light it. He laughed when she held another cigar in her hand, to her lips, and wanted a light as well. She inhaled the sweet smoke and exhaled it away from him. She swirled the brandy in the glass as she took a seat on the settee.

"You never cease to surprise me, Mary Rose. You command a ship, you drink like a man, smoke cigars. Will there be no end to your talents?"

"I am just a woman who knows what she wants, and usually gets it."

"How do you get men to work for you onboard ship?"

"It is not easy. Most men are pigs and think they must only take orders from other pigs. I have to pay my men more than you do."

"Is there gambling, drink and women on board your ship?"

"That is why there is shore leave."

"When will you be setting sail once again?"

"Right now, my men are careening my ship and repairing a few sails."

Mazar stretched out on the lounge he was sprawled upon and loosened his coat. "My crew is finding fresh supplies of water and food for our next voyage. Why do you do it? It cannot be easy for you. What is the attraction of life at sea when you have this home, the land, and horses?"

"I was born for it."

"It is weeks of boredom searching for prey, then short bursts of excitement as a ship is overtaken. Hopefully, it is not your own. During the dry spells, it is hard to keep the men under control. I do that by fear. What means do you use?"

"Respect. They know they will get more reales from me than from you or any other man out there."

"Ah, yes. The code. My men live and die by the code, how about yours?"

"Of course. Sailing men together in close quarters for months on end, they have to find a way to get along, and how the bounty is split fairly."

"Out of twenty shares, I take one and a half, what do you take?"

"Why? You are wondering if you are taking too much?"

"Or too little. You are successful. Tell me this, have you ever had to maroon one of your men?"

"Heavens, no," Mary Rose replied, shocked at the concept.

"Last year. I had to leave my boatswain on an island in the Caribbean."

Reacting to her shock, he said, "Not alone. I left him a bottle of powder, a bottle of water, and a dagger. He was using my ship as a sideline for his own smuggling operation. I was going to go back for him after he learned his lesson, but I forgot where I left him."

"Did you decide to do that on your own?" He was arrogant enough to have made that dire decision without the vote of his crew. But then again, it was quite a statement to his men that if they tried anything like it, it could happen to them.

"Of course not." Mazar sipped the rest of his brandy and set the snifter on the side table. "All my men have an equal vote in all things. The crew were angry that they were not getting a percentage of his take as well. It was a pity, really. Ricardo had sailed with me for over a decade."

"Friends be damned, huh?"

"There are no friends at sea. There are mates, and there is prey."

"Is that what I am?"

"Sure," he said but didn't expand on it until she was about to throw him out on his ear. "I was hoping we were mates."

"What do you have in mind? What do you want from me?"

"The same as you want from me."

Hoo boy. As much as she wanted to hate the man, she couldn't find it in her heart and loins to do so. Stranding a man who had sailed with him for so long on some uninhabited island seemed extreme, but at least he didn't make him walk the plank in shark-infested waters or 'dance the hempen jig', slang for being hung in public.

"What do I want, since you know me so well?"

His eyes covered her whole body. If he admitted it was her, she would lower her guard and try to find a way to tactfully ask if he intended to spend the night, which would be all right with her.

Carlotta stomped into the house and slammed the door behind her. "Papa, it is time to leave."

Anton hurried in and just hovered by the door, as Carlotta was boiling. "I know you are a cad, Papa, but I do not have to endure another moment of Anton asking me how I could possibly be your daughter, and he will not stop asking me about how my mother died."

All eyes went to Anton, who just shrugged. Mary Rose was shocked that he would needle Mazar's daughter about something she had told him in private. He explained his behavior only with, "There is a story there, mother."

"Only if it is told. Do not pry where you are not welcome, Anton."

Mary Rose had not asked Mazar about why Colonel Alfonso had killed his wife, his mistress, but hearing about the handsome man's wife and demise might only dredge up thoughts of her own beloved husband's murder. Anton was so like his father. He had to know everything about anyone who was let into their home, business dealings, and most of all, heart.

Mazar stood and took her daughter's hand. "Can we leave now, Papa? I know you are enamored by that woman, but I find Anton a terrible bore. I would like to go back to the hotel."

Carlotta pretty much dragged her father out of the house. On the porch, Mary Rose was sorry to see Fox bring the carriage up and Carlotta hurriedly enter it. Mazar had given her a long look, and smiled. "Thank you for dinner, and I am sorry about the brashness of my child."

Carlotta grumbled something from the carriage, and Mazar laughed. Mary Rose could see Carlotta's gloved hand reach for her father's arm. He said, "I bid you a good night, Seņora Guevara. Anton." Mazar just sighed to her son. She had felt a bit rushed and let down that he was leaving so soon as well. The smug look on Anton's face didn't bode well for her either. Had he planned to get rid of them and needled the poor girl to want her to get away? Instead of using the method of kissing her or worse, he had just used the tactic of putting down her father. It worked; he should be proud. Mary Rose, on the other hand, felt a bit sick in the stomach as the carriage rolled away.

Continue to Part Five

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