by Eliza Knight
“Ye’re a pig.”
“Aye, perhaps I am. But at least I mean to give more than I receive.” There was humor in his voice that made her smile.
“Go to sleep.”
“As ye wish, my wee rat.” He tickled her belly, making her draw in a breath she wished didn’t show how much she actually liked him touching her.
“And stop calling me a rat. And stop tickling me, too.”
Thor rolled onto his back, tugging her with him so that her face was now plastered to his bare chest. He smelled good. Felt wonderful. It was a wonder she was able to keep herself from drooling and hold on to her conviction to not kiss him, to not allow him to pleasure her.
“Goodnight, Miss Baird.”
“Goodnight, pirate scum.”
He chuckled, the rumbling doing things to her insides that seemed impossible. But still, she didn’t pull away. She snuggled closer and closed her eyes, feeling more relaxed than she had in days. At the same time, she felt like her limbs would come alive, forming a mind of their own.
This was going to be a very, very long night.
Chapter Eleven
For the next three days, Thor met behind closed doors alongside Shaw and Con. Lachlan, Kelly and Lucifer acted as messengers between them and the Spanish, using an informant that their brethren had acquired over the years to deliver messages to Santiago. Their go-between was a witch doctor on the Azures Islands that the Spanish pirate captain sought out for the strange pains in his head. And whom Lachlan had once beheld as a lover.
Secretly, Thor thought Lachlan might still harbor feelings for Mari. When this business with Santiago was over, Thor was going to suggest Lachlan give it another go.
Finally, it was settled upon that in two days time they would meet at dawn at a specific latitude and longitude coordinate, roughly equal distance from Santiago’s home base as it was from the Devils of the Deep’s home base of Scarba—as they didn’t want the men to know of their hideout in Cruden Bay.
Once there, they would make the exchange. Alesia for a chest of gold. Though that wasn’t truly the goal, only the surface plan that Santiago was aware of. Once they’d attached their grappling hooks to his ships, Thor would let out a call to battle. He would take the man down for what he’d done. Take his life, his gold and his daughter.
Every night, rather than come up the stairs, he climbed through the window of Alesia’s bedchamber and curled up beside her on the floor to keep her warm. He didn’t try to kiss her, didn’t try to touch her in a way that could be misconstrued as anything other than protector. They shared warmth and comfort. And even when she was asleep, she snuggled closer to him.
It was a torment to pull her into his arms and not kiss her, but he’d made a promise not to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling something fierce with his desire to both protect her and give her the pleasure he so very much wanted to share. He’d teased her before, played with her, but he did indeed desire her.
More than desired her. For what other woman would he ever have treated thusly? None. There had never been anyone like her. And he believed wholeheartedly that there would never be another as fine.
Aye, she was a hellion to be sure. Perhaps even slightly mad. But weren’t they all? Wasn’t he?
She was perfect for him in every sense of the way. He only wished that she would open up to him more. To tell him what it was she truly desired. He could sense that though she remained with the brethren, there was only a thin thread keeping her in place. Alesia was used to running, used to having to protect herself, to take care of herself no matter the cost. Hell, that was why she had a price on her head in Edinburgh.
That was why she’d challenged him and every swab aboard the ship to a fight. He was fairly certain the only reason she hadn’t challenged those at Cruden Bay was because she wanted to make a good impression on Jane and Gregg, which meant she must have respect for the two women. Liked them, even. He might even go so far as to say she’d made friends. Surprising, truly, for Thor would have bet a chest full of gold that she respected no one, and only half-heartedly respected herself.
Lying beside him now, the even breaths of sleep he’d grown used to gave off a subtle shift as she woke.
“Ye’re still here,” she teased, the same thing she said each morning when they woke.
He glanced down at her where her head rested on his shoulder. Beautiful, brilliant green eyes shone up at him, and a sleepy smile curled her lips.
“Ye threatened me in your sleep,” he jested back, letting his hand fall from her back as she sat up.
“Ye did well to heed my threats, pirate. I am feared in some parts of Scotland.”
“Aye. And perhaps even on the high sea.”
She turned to look at him quizzically. “What do ye mean?”
“Ye did come at me, fists of fire on my ship. It’s a wonder my men still follow me, as I should have decked ye, tied ye to the mast and beat ye for your insolence.”
She laughed, relaying to him the truth he’d known since he’d first spied her in his cabin—she wasn’t afraid of him in the least.
After standing and splashing water on her face, she gestured toward the door. “Go on now. I need to make use of the chamber pot.”
Thor studied her for a moment, taking in the bare toes and the billowing white night rail tied all the way to the neck. Even looking like she wore a ship’s sail, he could watch her all day. He cleared his throat. “When ye’re done, prepare to leave. We board the Leucosia today.”
She paused, wiping her face on a strip of linen. “Not The Sea Devil?”
“Nay. Kelly will captain my ship for the interim.”
Alesia set down the damp linen and started to comb her fingers through her unruly hair. “Where are we going?”
“Deep into nowhere.” Thor stood and began folding up the blankets and tossing them onto the mattress.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Ye like a bit of danger.”
“I do. So I am to come?” A hip popped out to the side, giving him a momentarily silhouette of her figure.
Thor forced his eyes back to her face. “Aye. We are meeting Santiago.”
Her pallor faded, and she nodded, no longer having anything to say, her jaw gone tight.
Thor wanted to comfort her, but what could he say? For all she knew, he was going to present her to her father, a man he’d told her was a vile heathen, before walking away.
But there was no way in hell he could leave her. How to tell her that though? How to ask her if she wanted to remain with him? So he nodded, lips clamped closed because he didn’t know how to form those words in a way that would make sense.
“I’ll see ye below stairs,” he muttered and then quit her chamber.
In the tavern below, the swabs had formed lines as they carried supplies to the various ships. All the joviality of the days past had ceased as they readied themselves for what could be an epic battle upon the high seas.
“I want Shaw’s rum,” Con was shouting. “Not whatever you have in those barrels.”
Shaw chuckled and waved at the men to do as Con instructed, which had Thor wondering if he’d known that would be the case all along and had tainted his own rum, or if Con was simply paranoid about the last barrel he’d drunk.
“I want to join ye.” Wee Xander approached, his dark hair having grown long and a faint, youthful mustache feathered on his upper lip.
“Nay.” Thor took a stone to his sword, sharpening the edge as he watched Edgard give orders to his men.
“But why not?”
“Ye’re with Shaw, lad.”
“But Savage is so…strict.”
Thor leveled a glower on the lad as he ran the stone down the length of the sword hard enough to create sparks. “What makes ye think I willna be just as strict?”
Xander tapped his chin and rolled on the balls of his feet, a smile of triumph on his face as he said, “Because ye’re Thor.”
“And?”
Xander frowne
d. “The men on your ship are allowed to walk around in any state of dress they please. With the lady on board, I have to wear breeches. I’m not even allowed to wear a plaid.”
Och, leave it to a green-faced lad to bring leadership down to such a low level as his state of dress.
Thor glanced over to where Shaw stood with his wife, Jane. The lady smiled up at Shaw the way Thor wanted a lass to smile at him. But not just any lass—Alesia.
“Why are ye not allowed to wear a plaid?”
Xander’s face reddened. “On account of me accidentally mooning the lady when I meant to do so to one of the swabs.”
Thor held back a chuckle as he imagined Xander tossing up the back of his plaid and his arse turned in Lady Jane’s direction. Och, what he wouldn’t give to have seen Shaw’s reaction.
“Besides, Savage never shares his haul of crab, and I am fond of crab.” Xander turned to the sea, perhaps pondering whether he might go down to the rocks to find a crab or two crawling between the crevices.
“Do ye want all the crab, lad?” Thor bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he asked.
“I do.” Xander nodded resolutely.
“Then ye’d best stick with our prince, for he is grooming ye to follow in his footsteps. Then ye shall have as much crab as ye wish.”
“Aye. That is why he is so strict, I suppose.”
“I will not be any less strict. And I’ll not have my arse handed to me for catering to your adolescent quibbles. Go away.”
“Aw, come on, Captain Thor.” The lad ducked his head, shuffling his feet. He was perhaps fifteen summers and feeling the barriers of his seclusion. Since he was a wee bairn, he’d been hidden away from view, the threat of death over his head never vanishing. Born a prince—the rightful heir to the Scottish throne—and presumed dead, he’d been hunted until just this year when Shaw swept him right out from under the noses of those who might be looking for him. And now Xander could likely taste freedom, although it wasn’t his to grasp just yet.
“I canna go against our prince, and ye shouldna be asking me to. I’ll keep this between us, because I know what ’tis like to be your age and conforming to the rules, but if ye ask me to go against Savage again, I’ll be forced to tell him.”
The lad’s face went white. “I willna, I swear it.”
“Good. If ye’re looking for change, ye know the prince is always willing to lend an ear, aye?”
Xander reluctantly nodded. “Run along then, and do as he bid, else we both incur his wrath.”
The lad ran off, leaving Thor to think about another person who wished for freedom.
Alesia stood at the bow of the ship, watching the pirate’s cove slowly disappear into the distance. The vast sea, wide and terrifyingly unfamiliar, lay sprawled out to her back. The only home she’d ever known had been Edinburgh. Now, in the span of a sennight, she’d been to the northeast of Scotland, and was now headed to the middle of nowhere in a vast expanse of water. Nowhere to swim if their ship should sink. Nowhere to escape.
Nay, the time for escape had passed as soon as she’d climbed the ladder from the skiff onto the ship. What had made her do it?
Every night when Thor climbed into her window with ease, he’d shown her how simple it would be to escape, and yet at the same time, he’d shown her something else—protection, kindness, companionship.
Had she not escaped because she hoped there could be something between them?
She liked to believe she wasn’t so naïve. But here she was on his ship, anticipating the night when he would once again curl himself around her while they slept.
And would he? When she’d slept on the ship before, he’d not come to her. She had no idea, in fact, where he’d slept, or if he’d slept at all.
The quartermaster was shouting orders, and the men were leaping about the ship, tugging at the rigging. They started to sing a song she’d heard many a time at the wharf. A sailor’s song that made her smile.
They were so excited to be heading back out to sea, none of them seeming to experience the angst she felt so deep in her bones.
“What are ye thinking about?” Thor slid up beside her.
“Shouldna ye be at your helm?”
“Edgard’s got it.”
The Leucosia had much the same layout as The Sea Devil, although it was slightly smaller and the wood a little more worn.
“Ye take good care of your ship,” she mused.
“Aye. Kelly will take good care of it, too.”
She skimmed her fingers along the wood of the rail, and stared over the side at the way the water foamed as the ship pushed through it. “Ye’re lucky to have men in your life like Shaw, Con and Kelly.”
“I’ve more than that. There’s Lachlan and Lucifer, and all the others, too.”
“A family.” Her shoulders sagged. That was probably one of the biggest reasons she’d found it hard to run. The people she’d met, the friendships she’d formed, were the closest thing to a family she’d ever had.
“A brethren,” he corrected.
“Are they not the same thing?”
He crossed his arms over his massive chest, drawing her eye to the thick muscles beneath his shirt and the V of skin that showed where his lacings had come loose. Thor was bronzed with a sprinkling of light hair on his chest that matched the long locks on his head. She longed to reach forward and press her palm over the exposed skin. To lean in close and smell the salt on his skin. To lick that dip at the base of his throat and find out if he tasted as delicious as he smelled.
“I suppose they are.” There was a change in his tone.
She jerked her gaze from the strip of exposed skin back to his ice-blue eyes. “I hate to admit it, but I am jealous.” She laughed softly at herself and flicked her eyes back toward the water.
“Soon ye shall be reunited with your father.”
A shiver of trepidation and true fear slithered over her spine. She had no idea if Santiago Fernandez was her father. He would likely ask her the name of her mother, and as soon as he found her to be a fraud, she’d be cut from stern to groin, the divided pieces of her fed to the fishes.
“I am nay certain I…” She swallowed around the hard lump that had formed in her throat. How could she tell Thor she didn’t want to go through with it? He’d arranged this entire thing. He would never forgive her for lying, for making a liar out of him…
“I understand your hesitation,” he started and touched her hand where she held firmly to the bow when she tried to interrupt. “But what reason could he have to seek ye out, to pay a reward for ye, if not because he wanted to be reunited?”
“What if he doesna accept me?” She couldn’t look at him for fear he’d see the truth in her eyes. What if he kills me instead?
“Why wouldna he?”
Oh, she had plenty of answers she could give him for that. All of which might see her to a more timely death than the one she was drifting toward.
Oh God…
Her knees buckled. She was probably in jeopardy of fainting, or at least of tossing up her accounts.
“I need some…water. To lie down.” She pressed her lips together, holding back the nausea.
Sensing her sudden illness, Thor scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the cabin, shouting for ale and sweet almonds.
“A little spirits and sweets ought to help perk ye up.”
She buried her face against his chest. Oh, but he smelled just as she’d known he would. That familiar, comforting sea salt and spice.
The right thing to do would be to confess now, before they got too far away from port. To give him a chance to turn around with his men and call it off.
But she was a coward.
For the first time in her life, she couldn’t fight this. She couldn’t protect herself. Couldn’t protect Thor, or his brethren. They were all in grave danger. And it was all her fault.
She’d gotten herself into this mess and she had no idea how the hell she was going to get herself o
ut…
Chapter Twelve
Thor might not be as connected to his emotions as some men, and perhaps there were more than a few people in his past that would say he had a lump of steel where a heart should be. But when it came to Alesia, he found himself in tune with her. However odd or out of place it was, he couldn’t deny it.
Clutching his shirt, she trembled in his arms as he entered his cabin. He shut the door and leaned against it with her still curled into his chest. The way she clung to him was not unlike the way he clung to her.
There was no denying it, the moment he’d first seen her running on the dock, he’d known there was a matching spirit inside her. One that spoke to his own.
And she was hiding something. He could feel it. At first, it had been a tickling inside his brain, and now it was a full on assault.
“What are ye hiding, lass?” His voice came out low, gruff.
She jerked against him, but he’d been expecting that, so he held on tightly, walked to the nearest chair and sat in it, the wood creaking from his mass. He arranged her over him, not letting her go, and pressed his nose to her hair. She smelled like sunshine and flowers.
“I’m not hiding anything.” But even as she denied it, he could hear the lie laced in her words.
“Let us not bandy about with words, Miss Baird.” He twirled a tendril of her hair around his finger. “There is one thing I know, and that is when someone is lying. And ye…well, I seem to know how ye feel even when ye try to hide it.”
Their eyes connected, both of them serious. “Then stop looking.”
“I confess I’ve tried, but I canna,” he whispered.
She tucked her face back against him and then suddenly shoved away with a growl under her breath. The struggle within her was intense, and he wished more than anything he could help her alleviate it. With his arms wide, he waited for her struggle to end, for her to decide whether she wanted the comfort of his arms, or the solidness of the floor.
Evidently, she chose to remain on his lap.
Eyes on her, no judgment in his tone, he said, “I’ll not be angry with ye.”