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  “I’m more than worth it. Let me prove it to you.”

  Christien uttered the daring words and deftly untied Tally’s robe.

  “I, uh—” The look in his eye and the way the material slid through his fingers stripped her of every chance of a witty comeback. The very idea of both silk and those rough and rugged hands caressing her skin at the same time left her speechless.

  He pushed the robe off her shoulders and it floated to pool at her feet like liquid passion. “You look real good in red, Tally, but I’d bet you’d look even better in nothing, cher.” His Cajun accent rang in her ears. His eyes were full of mischief.

  “You don’t play fair, Christien,” she said, trying to regain her control. Something about his cocky smile stirred her tongue. She moved her hand to the belt of his jeans. Working the leather loose, unfastening the snap, she carefully lowered the zipper.

  “You’ll thank me later,” he said.

  Dear Reader,

  After introducing Jack Castille’s sexy brother Christien in the novella “Deliver Me,” part of the Red Letter Nights anthology, I couldn’t resist telling Tally and Christien’s story. When I told my fellow anthology author Jeanie London my idea, she decided to join me, and so we’ve collaborated on the twins’—Tally and Bree—books. Both feature Gabriel Dampier, a sexy pirate ghost cursed by Belle Grand-mère for all eternity.

  Our cursed pirate is tired of haunting Court du Chaud, and when he realizes that the twins are the key to breaking the evil spell governing his existence, he sets out to give them each a nudge into love. Come back with me to the coolest and the hottest place in the French Quarter and indulge yourself in Tally’s journey, which leads her to ghosts, treasure and true love.

  I hope you enjoy! I love to hear from my readers, so please drop me an e-mail at www.karenanders.com.

  Karen Anders

  Books by Karen Anders

  HARLEQUIN BLAZE

  22—THE BARE FACTS

  43—HOT ON HER TAIL

  74—THE DIVA DIARIES

  103—HERS TO TAKE*

  111—YOURS TO SEDUCE*

  119—MINE TO ENTICE*

  154—MANHANDLING

  193—ALMOST NAKED, INC.

  GIVE ME FEVER

  Karen Anders

  To Lyn and Darlene.

  May all your dreams bring both of you

  all the riches in the world.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  THE MOON WAS OUT, full and yellow like a feral cat’s eye. The wind blew gently, but it didn’t touch him as he walked across the courtyard of Court du Chaud.

  Court du Chaud would always be associated with his name, since he’d financed the building of the four rows of French colonial town houses that boxed in his very own mini-town within the city of New Orleans.

  He passed the piazza where a woman’s soft, sultry laughter sent his thoughts back to another moonlit night—a night full of drunken laughter and debauchery.

  A mature, attractive woman flipped up her coat collar as he passed, the eerie sound of his boot heels echoing sadly.

  He made his way up the stairs to the café where the pretty owner was closing up for the night. Taking one of the nearby chairs, he sat. She had a gorgeous aura, all pure-blue light, like the aching blue of a summer sky. She glowed with copper-rich, earthy power.

  The man came out of the kitchen, the one whose aura used to be black with despair, like dark soot. It was now as pure blue as the café owner’s, but pulsing with the golden light of a warrior, strong of heart, sure in battle.

  “Stronger than you could ever be.”

  He turned to see his nemesis standing next to his chair. White hair, the color of bleached bones, lay thick and lank around her withered face. Her eyes, like dark wells of desolation, stared at him without emotion, except for the deep hatred that now seemed as much a part of her as the shawl that covered her stooped shoulders.

  “I despise when you sneak up on me, Belle Grand-mère.”

  “It is for that very pleasure that I do it.”

  “There is not much more that can be done to me that has not already been done.”

  “You blackguard,” she hissed. “Your suffering is like manna to me. I love to watch.”

  “You are a bloodthirsty, bitter old woman. Very bitter.”

  “And why shouldn’t I be? My granddaughter lost everything, including her life. You never loved her, nor anyone or anything except gold and whoring.”

  He closed his eyes at the old woman’s words, knowing in his heart that they had been true. But he wasn’t that man anymore. Out of a dusty and dead past, the thought of young Madeline flowed with color and energy. He could see her, just as she’d been the moment he’d met her at the Celebration Ball.

  Madeline had been draped in peach silk—a contrast to her ivory skin that would feel so very silky beneath his fingertips. Touch, a half-forgotten sense, bloomed to life.

  For a fierce minute, he could almost taste her luscious lips, so real she was to him in the crucial silence. The sensation of her flowed over him and then was quickly gone. The ache that it brought remained.

  “I may not have realized it until too late, but I loved Madeleine. Nothing you say or do will change that fact.”

  “You broke her heart and her spirit.”

  “And you punished me for it.”

  “Yes! You are doomed to walk the cobbles alone. I made certain of that in the voodoo curse I placed upon your soul. I also made certain your soul would remain here in Court du Chaud where you defiled my granddaughter, left her with twins in her belly and made her a pariah from society.”

  “But old woman, you tied your fate to mine.”

  She shrugged her thin shoulders. “Everything comes with a price.” She looked away and whispered, “Everything. I am sure my precious Madeleine discovered that too late.”

  “Her descendants—our descendants—have had to pay the most terrible price of all.”

  “You speak in riddles, pirate.”

  “You cursed our descendants with ambition, and forever robbed them of the chance for love.” Even now, the words felt hollow and heavy on his soul.

  “I blessed them so that they would not follow in Madeleine’s footsteps and make fools of themselves in the name of love.”

  “Curses. Blessings. All a matter of opinion.”

  “I am connected to you through eternity.” She sneered. “But since it is for revenge…it is worth it.” Her voice echoed in his ears and then she disappeared.

  Belle Grand-mère might derive great pleasure out of his pain, but he believed there was hope. He turned to look at the twins, Tallis and Breanne Addison, who had emerged from their respective townhomes.

  He watched them walk toward the café. Their auras were lifeless pewter-gray, a gray heralding the sad fact that true love had never touched their beautiful souls.

  These were the first twins born in their family in two hundred years. It might have signified a way to break the curse. The crone would never tell him outright, but he could speculate. He had watched his descendants for a very long time.

  There must be a way to break the curse.

  He turned his attention to the wall behind the counter. The full-length mural was painted with vibrant colors, depicting a pirate dressed in a rakish hat, a long plume of a feather stuck jauntily in the brim, his expression cocky and
invulnerable.

  The pirate’s scarlet waistcoat with white piping and black velvet accents was meant to poke fun at the redcoats he and Jean Lafitte had defeated at the battle for New Orleans.

  The pirate had also risked life and limb to smuggle in the folderols and trappings for the society of which he longed to be a part. What did he get for it? A boot in the face. Thumbing his nose at them, the pirate had built the elegant Court du Chaud—the “hot” court—right in their midst on prime property gifted to him by Lafitte.

  But the tough, rakish man in the mural had learned nothing. Society would never accept him, not even after he had claimed an upper-class miss. Defiant and scorned, he’d sailed his flagship, The Crescent, to Texas to lick his wounds.

  Off the coast of Texas, the pirate had finally found an enemy he could not fight.

  Death.

  He’d died looking up into the moonlit sky, the sounds of his breathing harsh, the noise of battle fading from his ears as his vision had dimmed.

  Madeleine.

  As his life had ebbed, he’d been given an epiphany. But cruel fate had robbed him of the chance to change, to make things right. His blood had seeped into the wooden deck and he had died with a curse upon his soul.

  Gabriel Dampier gazed up at the image of himself, then out the window of the café to the twins below.

  He’d been dead over two hundred years.

  But was his salvation now upon him?

  1

  “TALLY, DO YOU HAVE a moment?”

  Tally Addison turned at the sound of the man’s voice. The owner of the Blue Note, where Tally sang four nights a week, stood in the doorway of her quasi-dressing room, looking more uncomfortable than usual. A tall, lanky man with a shock of carrot-red hair, Chuck Sommers was a kind, unassuming guy. Singing at the Blue Note was her passion, but didn’t pay the bills. For that, she worked full-time for Chloe Matthews at Café Eros in Court du Chaud. “Hey, Chuck, sure.”

  Chuck came in and closed the door to the tiny room. He sat awkwardly on a stool close to Tally’s dressing table. Even three days after Christmas, the Note was packed to capacity and Tally still had one set to sing.

  “I’m selling the Blue Note,” he said, his eyes shifting away from hers.

  For a moment Tally couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was too early. She made an effort to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I thought you said you’d be here for another three years.”

  “I know what I said, but my daughter is going through a divorce and she lives over in the Florida Panhandle. I’m going to open up a restaurant there and she’s going to manage it for me. I know how much you love this place. I thought I’d give you first crack at it.”

  “What is your asking price?”

  When he told her, she felt her heart sink. “I appreciate that, Chuck. How much time do I have?”

  “I can give you two weeks, and then I’ll have to put it on the market. I’m sure sorry, Tally.”

  She was devastated. She couldn’t lose this place before she had the chance to realize her ambition. “It’s not your fault, Chuck. Your daughter needs you and you have to do what’s right for your family. I fully understand.”

  After Chuck left, Tally sat in front of her mirror for a long time. She did fully understand what Chuck was going through. Tally and her sister Bree had dropped everything to care for their brother when their mother had abandoned him at fourteen. Family always had to come first.

  It didn’t help that her plan of owning, managing and singing at a place like the Blue Note would never be realized if she couldn’t come up with the cash to meet the asking price.

  Unless she found Captain Gabriel Dampier’s treasure.

  Sure, she could work elsewhere then hopefully purchase some other club, but this opportunity had fallen into her lap—now.

  She’d been searching estate sales, pawnshops, junk shops and antique stores for anything and everything that had to do with the captain. She’d found so much stuff, her attic was filled to the rafters, but, unfortunately, no treasure map.

  As a direct descendent of the infamous pirate captain, Tally had firsthand knowledge that a treasure did exist. The information had been handed down through generations. For as long as Tally could remember, her mother had talked about Dampier’s treasure and the pirate himself.

  In fact, her uncle Guidry Addison had willed his Court du Chaud town house, the very house where Gabriel had lived, to her and Bree. She and her sister had renovated the large town house into a duplex with both girls living side by side and sharing a porch.

  Before her uncle had died, he’d told her many tales about the treasure, the voodoo curse on the pirate and the fact that he haunted the court, trapped there for all eternity.

  She had two short weeks to find the map or the Blue Note would go to someone else.

  She wasn’t about to let that happen.

  TALLY SURVEYED her little compact car stuffed to the top with Captain Dampier paraphernalia that she’d just picked up at an estate sale. She’d found tons of books and journals in the old mansion’s library that she wanted to go through along with a compass and spyglass reported to belong to the pirate.

  In life, the captain had never been given his due. She hoped that she could rectify that by setting up a society and museum to showcase and honor him. If she ever found the treasure. If she ever managed to buy the Blue Note.

  Late for her shift, she had no time to unload her car. She locked it and headed for the café.

  Café Eros was located in a two-level town house at the mouth of the alley that served as the entrance to Court du Chaud. With an intimate atmosphere, it comfortably seated about thirty people with a decadent lounge at the top level and a café on the lower level that included outside seating situated around a small nonworking fountain full of bright flowers. The inside and outside tables were still decked out in red and green as the Christmas holiday had just passed.

  The court itself was graced by a piazza, a large square of tumbled stones purportedly handcrafted and built by the notorious pirate Captain Gabriel Dampier. It sat in the middle of the court complete with park benches and greenery to give the tenants some measure of peace on a hectic day.

  The huge Christmas tree was still situated in the center of the piazza and wouldn’t be taken down until after New Year’s Day. It was also the spot they shot off the spectacular fireworks display that was a tradition every year since Tally could remember.

  She went upstairs to the kitchen and grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist. Picking up a pad and a pencil, she headed out to start her shift.

  By scrimping and saving for a few years, she’d been singing at the Blue Note and had amassed a small amount of money. But she knew it would not be enough to buy the club and no bank was going to take a risk on a twenty-three-year-old waitress with no credit. She couldn’t even mortgage the Court du Chaud property, since she and Bree had already done so to make the needed renovations.

  Everything hinged on the treasure.

  Through the open window of the café, Tally watched Jack Castille approach with Chloe on his arm. They were laughing, lost in each other. For a brief moment, Tally wondered what that feeling would be like, and then it faded.

  Love was the watchword for the whole court, it seemed. Chloe and Jack weren’t the only victims of the Court du Chaud love bug. Frequent patrons to Café Eros and residents of the court had also succumbed over Christmas.

  The week after Christmas only seemed to strengthen love run rampant. Love. Ha. Tally didn’t believe in fairy tales and happily-ever-after. She believed in cold hard cash and getting ahead. She didn’t label her plans as dreams; she thought of them as goals. Dreams were elusive and insubstantial. Dreams were for suckers.

  CLOSE TO THE END OF HER SHIFT, Tally walked into the kitchen where Chloe was busy making a dessert. Etta James’s smoky vocals filtered through the café from the café’s state-of-the-art sound system and hung in the air.

  “Chloe,
can I borrow Vincent at the end of my shift?” Vincent was the eighteen-year-old homeless boy Chloe had hired over Christmas. “I need his help in moving some boxes from my car to my town house.”

  “Sure,” Chloe said. “He’s delivering some croissants to Madame Alain right now.”

  “Great. Did Jack leave?” Tally asked, looking around the kitchen.

  “Yes, he had errands to run.”

  “He spends so much time here you should put him to work,” Tally said.

  “Yeah, about as much time as Christien.” Chloe gave Tally a sly look.

  Tally shrugged. “Christien likes your gumbo.”

  “It’s not my gumbo he comes here for, Tally, and you know it.” Chloe drizzled caramel sauce over a slice of praline cheesecake.

  “It won’t do him any good. I’m not interested.”

  “Yeah, right,” Chloe said, turning to look at her. “I may not be able to read minds, but I can read emotions and yours are pulsing a vibrant red right now.”

  “Okay.” Tally threw up her hands. “He is hot. His accent is so smooth it curls my toes. And he’s got the finest ass to ever fill out a pair of jeans—his brother should arrest him because it’s so criminal. In fact, I want him to make me scream out his name. Satisfied?”

  “Name the time and place, chère.”

  Tally closed her eyes at Christien’s soft, sexy voice. Opening them, she glared at Chloe, but she only looked at Tally with laughing eyes.

  Chloe picked up a plate and breezed past her, forcing Tally to turn around and face Christien.

  “I need to deliver this dessert,” Chloe said.

  “Chloe…”

  “I’ll be right back.” Chloe flashed a wide-open perky smile. But her eyes glowed like one of Satan’s helpers. She raised her brows a couple of times then exited the kitchen. That left Tally standing in the middle of the room, ogling the Cajun stud who was leaning against the door frame as if he owned the airspace.