by Tamara Gill
Sarah forced a swallow. Her pulse increased. Had they identified him wrong? She refused to see him any differently, regardless of his skill in kissing.
“There are many pirates, Miss Covington. Some will give up any man’s name to throw off suspicion.”
Her heart fell into her churning stomach. If that were true…well, she couldn’t think beyond this moment. “But you are the one here, and kill you I will.”
“Ah.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “And we’re back to me which, from that admission, means you do not care overly much for the correct culprit.”
“You are he.” Then why the small streak of doubt? She shook her head. He had to be the criminal, for if he wasn’t, she’d killed an innocent man for nothing. Sarah stifled the urge to sob in frustration and fear. “I’m certain.”
Please let it be him. Somehow, she suspected God wouldn’t answer this prayer.
The pirate held her gaze, his blue-gray eyes simmering with contempt. “For argument’s sake, let’s say I am the pirate you want. Do you have proof I killed your father?”
Did she? In light of his questions, she wasn’t sure she did. The details were a bit hazy. “I…” Damn his eyes. Why did her circumstances seem so murky?
“Ah, now the doubts creep in. Little buggers, aren’t they?” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “Surely this has more to do with than just your father’s untimely death?”
“His death must be avenged.” She continued her glare, her chest heaving from her tumultuous emotions. She hated this man with his dirty, greasy hair and his stormy eyes, hated that his sweat and slight citrus scent filled the close quarters of the carriage to tease her nose. Every whisker on his chin mocked her. “Do you care about the truth, or do you merely make conversation to pass the time?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps both, but more so the truth, as my life and its ills are based in it.”
“I rather doubt a pirate is concerned about such things.” Yet a spark of interest lodged in her mind to further drive home the fact he might be innocent.
The captain sketched her an abbreviated bow from his seat. “Time is money, my dear Miss Covington, and the docks are nearing. Share your story or don’t, it makes no difference to my plans, all of which have been carefully orchestrated, as you can see from my escape.”
Tremors of panic skated over her skin. They’d passed the Mission without her realizing it. Her hope for escape now lay at the port and the transient kindness of the workers there. She shrank as far away from him as she could go, even went as far as to pull her skirts aside so his boots couldn’t touch her. He represented everything she’d never been allowed—freedom, adventure, and a sense of self—and he’d dance away without recourse for his crimes. It was unconscionable. “You took my one chance at happiness—at living—when you killed my father.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Please explain.”
“My intended was on the ship you gutted then sank. He was murdered with my father for the mere fact he was a witness to your tyranny.”
His renewed chuckle grated on her sensibilities. “Oh how fun. You’ve added tyranny to my list of crimes.” He shoved a hand through his ratty hair. “Did you lose your ability to be courted by another, or did your dear, departed fiancé, as they say in the storybooks, take your heart with him?”
Indignation choked her. She sputtered but said nothing.
“Quite frankly, I still fail to see how any of these unfortunate events are my fault.”
She clenched her hands into fists. “I am destitute and my reputation is in tatters.” And a murderess to boot. He could well be blamed for the last.
“Ah, then you gave up your most valuable gift to him?”
Warmth seeped into her cheeks. “Absolutely not. It is…complicated.”
“Most stories involving family are. And of course your loved ones are dead.” Again the eyebrow inched upward. “How very…literary.”
Annoyance burned in her throat. “I want one thing only from you—your death.”
The pirate captain laughed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Good luck with that. Many people want me dead, many of them more powerful than you. None have succeeded.”
“It only takes one, pirate.”
“Perhaps, but not today.” He snaked out a hand and stroked her knee. She couldn’t move further away as she was already crammed against the wall of the carriage. When tremors of a different sort shot up her leg, she stopped trying. How long had it been since anyone had touched her with a modicum of compassion or even interest, no matter how it came to be? Despite the fact he was a pirate, she found the gesture… nice. “What was the name of the ship that I allegedly captained when I took these men’s lives?”
“The Independence. I will never forget it.”
Again, his deep, velvety laughter echoed around her. It was a pleasant sound and one she could easily become used to hearing… if she didn’t hate him. “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Covington. The name of my ship is the Lady Catherine. For seven years at sea, I have never captained another.” The carriage jerked to a rocking halt. The pirate pulled the curtains aside and glanced out the window. A smile graced his lips. “You do indeed have the wrong pirate.”
“No.” She shook her head. It cannot be true.
“Yes, and on a side note, the man who killed your loved ones did die—by my hand actually. So, really, I would say, you owe me an apology as well as your fidelity.”
A myriad of emotions welled inside her. She bounced from relief that the perpetrator was dead to anger that she’d been cheated of avenging her father and fiancé herself to denial that the man she currently conversed with was quite innocent in this crime. She hadn’t expected this turn of events. In the end, she settled for anger. It was familiar and quick to respond. “How convenient. Let me out. Now.”
She refused to allow him to treat her as her father and her fiancé had done. Never again would she allow a man to order her about or expect her immediate obedience. It was worse than the people who treated her like an infant, and she’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.
“Leaving so soon, kitten?”
She ignored the tremors running through her body at his endearment. Perhaps in difference circumstances she could be persuaded to stay… or a different lifetime. Hers was muddy now at best. “I would rather die than thank you.”
“Oh, you will thank me eventually, and no, I won’t set you free.” His smile died and in its place fell a mask of ice. “From this point forward, you belong to me, a prize of sorts for escaping the noose once again. It was fate, after all, that placed my men by your side while I stood on that platform, able to look my fill at you.”
“No.” Cold fear blanketed the hot anger. Succumbing to the pirate would mean the loss of the tiny amount of freedom she’d gained when her father died. She’d fought too hard for personal independence to lose it to a man with no morals.
“In fact, you can blame your circumstances on your own actions. Had you not interfered with today’s events, you would most likely not have garnered the attention of my men. Plus, your side show detracted attention from my escape from the gallows. So thank you for that. Such an action will go a long way into gaining acceptance on my crew. We’re all a rather bloodthirsty lot.”
“I—” Her heartbeat raced as if trying to escape her chest. “I didn’t want their attention, or yours.”
“That may be so, but you received it just as well. And you’ve killed, the same as I. It would seem you and I are well-matched and possess the same sort of black hearts.” With efficient movements, he hauled her into his lap, chuckling when she struggled. “Welcome to your new life, my dear Miss Covington. I do hope you’ll find it a pleasant endeavor.”
“Nothing about you is pleasant.” Yet curiosity blazed strong within her. In a way being tied to a pirate would be a means to an escape—if she could survive. From one prison to another, but freedoms nonetheless. Yet Sarah whimpered as he tangled a hand in her h
air. But at what cost would that freedom be won?
He forced her head forward.
“Please do not—”
A hard, punishing kiss drowned the rest of her plea.
Chapter Two
Adrian’s kiss was meant to punish and claim ownership, to tell this headstrong woman exactly who was in command as well as to break her will. She’d spurned his attention earlier. She wouldn’t do so this time. By her own admission, she had no one in her life. There would be no loved one left behind to mourn her loss nor would anyone chase him for kidnapping her.
I’m doing her a favor.
He’d been shanghaied years ago, and he returned the favor as often as he could. Such was the life of a pirate.
As if it was something to be proud of. A surge of old bitterness filled his chest. He ignored it in favor of concentrating on the spitfire.
She was his property, to do with what he pleased—and right now, it pleased him to explore her body. He’d been too long without a woman, and the lush curves hidden beneath her clothes were a temptation.
Even pleasure came from the whim of another. Depending on how long he decided to keep her, he’d teach her that too.
Sarah squirmed, pushing at his chest with her hands, while kicking at his shins. He tightened his grip in her hair, holding her steady and not giving her any quarter. Oh, she could fight all she wanted but eventually, she’d realize she had to accept her fate. He shifted her until she sat sideways on his lap. He shoved the skirting away from her lower limbs with his free hand. Smooth skin warmed his palm. A faint floral scent wafted to his nose. She clamped her legs together as tight as her lips locked against his. Tremors racked her body and fueled his ardor.
Adrian grinned over her uncooperative mouth. The woman had spirit—one he’d enjoy breaking, if for nothing else than to see how long it would take. A challenge for the upcoming voyage. He probed the seam of her lips with his tongue while he stroked the tops of her legs. She froze as if trying to guess his intentions—or plot her next attack.
What was her level of sexual experience? Light skirts he’d had before, but an untried female? That would be a novelty and a luxury he’d not had the pleasure of sampling. He softened his kiss, coaxing her lips. They went pliant and soft beneath his, framing his mouth with their pillowy perfection. At the same time, he caressed her skin, easing his fingers between her quivering thighs. Little by little her resistance on both fronts lessened. He stroked her skin, and as she trembled, he traveled upward. Her quick intake of breath when he brushed at her feminine curls caused an answering groan in him followed by a robust chuckle as she clamped her thighs together on his fingers.
A virgin, definitely. An experienced female would have done the opposite or pulled him closer for a more intimate embrace.
Never had he claimed such a naïve woman. Damnation. He’d have great fun deflowering her, teaching her, exploring her body, yet the carriage was neither the time nor place, and there were many lessons she’d need to learn before either of them reached his bed.
Just the same, he liked the fight in her. Best not to tempt fate when there were much more pressing matters to attend to. With another pet of her curls that were just beginning to dampen from her arousal, he released the woman then unlatched the door and shoved her outside—into the waiting arms of his second-in-command, Brax.
He’d met the burly man years ago when he’d been taken aboard his first ship. Together they’d worked their way through the ranks, learning the ropes so to speak, until they’d gained their current positions. He trusted Brax with his life—the only person he’d given that honor to. Trust was difficult to come by on the unforgiving sea. “Put her in a longboat and take her to the Lady Catherine. We’re sailing immediately.”
“No! I’m not leaving St. Augustine!” Sarah struggled in Brax’s grip. Her eyes went wide with fear as she clawed at Brax’s face.
Adrian and Brax exchanged a glance. This was the reason he hated abducting females—too much noise, way too overly dramatic. He preferred his women content to remain on their island homes and available whenever he chose to visit, but since Brax had apparently seen a redeeming quality in Sarah while in the gallows crowd, who was he to argue? His friend never intervened in his life or decisions regarding companions and had certainly never chosen a woman for him before. “Are you sure about this one, Brax? She’ll be trouble, mark my words.”
“Aye. I gots me a feelin’” His big hands easily encircled the female’s wrists, subduing the worst of her struggles.
So do I. “Very well.” Adrian nodded. She interested him beyond a potential bed partner. The woman held a lifetime of stories he was curious to hear. “She’ll come with us.” He jerked his head toward the harbor. “Assemble the crew. Fly the flag. As soon as I’m aboard, we shove off.”
“Aye, sir.”
The woman renewed her fight for freedom. “You cannot do this! It’s kidnapping. I shall report you to the American navy. They’ll have your head.”
Adrian uttered a soft laugh. “Indeed, and they are quite familiar with me, but first they’ll need to catch me. My ship is fast for its size and my crew adept at eluding pursuit.” He merely stated facts. “We’ve do so many times before. Plus, you’d need to report me, but you won’t have the opportunity aboard my vessel. It would seem we have a bit of a problem.”
“Bastard.”
Why must she make this so difficult? Adrian gestured. Brax turned her until he looked into her flushed face. “There are many things to learn while in my company, Miss Covington. One, I take orders from no one. Ask my crew if you doubt this. Two, I never allow another person to have the advantage. I cheat if I have to and shoot first when need be. If I kill, I have a damn good reason. Three, there is a second side to every tale. I would caution you never to judge until you’ve received an in-depth understanding as to the story. And four, never think you know me. Many have tried. Equally as many have failed. I do not trust lightly.”
“Bastard.” She kicked out but fell short of touching him.
Adrian stared hard at Brax, for the moment dismissing Sarah from his priority. “A few hours in the brig will sap the fight out of her, and by then, we’ll be well to sea so her ire won’t matter.”
“Aye, Cap’n.” Brax threw Sarah over a wide shoulder and loped toward a longboat that bobbed peacefully off a pier. Though she kicked like mad, Brax appeared not to notice.
Silly chit. She’d learn. Everyone did.
Adrian put the woman out of his mind. There’d be plenty of time in the next three days to puzzle out her mystery. As he shaded his eyes against the sun’s glare, a man walked toward him with a steady gait and determined set to his jaw. When the newcomer drew abreast, Adrian flicked his gaze to another gentleman, still a few feet off, dressed in Spanish military garb. “How goes it, Elmwood?”
The short man, wearing a dark British-style suit, gave a brief salute. Adrian graciously overlooked the man’s penchant for formality as Elmwood was the best quartermaster he’d ever employed. “Reporting for duty, Captain. I have also acquired the governor’s emissary, one Mayor Ortiz.”
“Excellent. You’ve pulled him from hiding.” He waited for the Spaniard to join them before speaking again. “Mayor Ortiz, I am grateful you made time in your schedule for me. Thank you, as well, for the loan of your carriage. We were away without incident.”
“How could I not, when you have promised the governor a huge favor and I arranged for your escape from the gallows?” The lyrical accent common from the people of Spain coated his voice. “You have received your orders?”
Adrian nodded. “I did. I have it on good authority your target, the French ship Casabianca, has docked somewhere in Bermuda, albeit briefly, for repairs and trade. I am heading there straightaway and shall bring her cargo back with me within the month.”
“Excellent. And the crew?”
“Do you wish there to be witnesses?”
“What do you think, Captain Westerbrooke?” Ortiz lifted a
dark eyebrow. His brown eyes reflected deadly intent, the same emotion he’d shown when throwing Adrian into prison days before.
The implied request to execute the Frenchmen seemed odd. Ortiz wouldn’t be on board, and there was every chance the Frenchmen would know nothing of Spain’s involvement as it would be Adrian’s ship and crew that would do the deed. What else did Ortiz plot that he wanted hidden? “I’m afraid killing a crew will command a higher prize.” Let’s see how far Ortiz will play the game.
“It might, had I not helped your escape from the noose. We are even, you and I. If you want the job and the gold, you’ll take what I offer and do what I say.”
Adrian glanced at Elmwood. The man shrugged, clearly as baffled as he. In the end, Adrian nodded. “I will send word when we have completed the mission.” He tapped his chin with a forefinger. They’d need to be wary of Ortiz in future dealings. “That leaves the small matter of payment we had agreed upon. I do like a bit of motivation to ensure optimum performance, though it’s a paltry sum for the additional work.” He’d dealt with the governor of St. Augustine before, and the man was a cheap bastard. Demanding payment upfront was a necessity.
“You are a shrewd businessman—for a pirate.” Ortiz reached into a pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small leather pouch. “This is half of what the governor promised. The rest can be redeemed upon delivery of the cargo.” He tossed it at Adrian, who caught the pouch then tucked it into the waistband of his trousers.
“Privateer, Mayor. There is a difference.”
“I have my doubts, but I wish you luck just the same.”
“Both skill and luck are a privateer’s friend. Do I have your word the governor will not send a frigate or two after us? After all, I’m putting my neck on the line tracking down your merchant vessel as it is. We’ll have a hell of a time avoiding patrols. Both England and the new America have top-notch navies.”