Captive to a Pirate

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by Lilith T. Bell


  “Tonight.” Her voice lacked inflection, cautious about showing emotion after what they’d shared. “I want to get there as quickly as possible.”

  “Then I’ll pack a bag. I’ll meet you on deck in a few minutes?”

  Brigid gave a small nod, then fled. Confusing ideas crowded her head, torn between kissing him and stabbing him as soon as she knew he had the map on him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BED OF ROSES

  LIAM waited until he was sure Brigid was gone to get her things. She had the presence of mind to snatch up her lantern as she went, but the absence of light didn’t bother him at all. He simply shifted his eyes to enhance his night vision—the pale blue darkening to solid black orbs—then turned back to the furthermost corner of the bed and grasped the bedpost there. As he twisted it around, a hidden cavity he’d carved into it was revealed and he pulled out a rolled up piece of leather. The first time he had seen it, he assumed it to be a useless scrap, maybe meant for patching things. That had likely been just what Donny had wanted others to think, though.

  Once the leather was shaken out flat on the bed, he traced the markings on it with his finger. Instead of ink or paint or anything like that, his late friend had burned the lines into it. The island was clear enough, but there were strange markings he couldn’t decipher, as well as some writing in a language he was fairly certain was Irish. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a language he had ever spoken fluently and had never learned to read it at all. It just looked garbled and impossible to pronounce to his eyes.

  “Your girl’s going to get herself killed. You should be glad I wouldn’t give her the map,” he said as his finger followed the curve of the shoreline. Even if he couldn’t decipher what the map said, he had spent over a decade working alongside Donny O’Cullane. His hand was so clear in its design that Liam almost felt as though he was speaking to his old friend again.

  “Well, all right. You wouldn’t be at all glad about what I just did.”

  He glanced toward his door with a frown, trying to ignore the pang of guilt tormenting him. That he had hurt her seemed clear, but he wasn’t sure of how to deal with it. Warmth and gentleness had never factored in his life at all. He shook his head, then got up to start packing his bag. He would need his navigation tools, of course, and he didn’t keep much else beyond clothes and some books.

  “You can’t blame me, though, Donny. How was I to know?”

  He grabbed the map to fold it up again, stuffing it inside a hidden inner pocket in the bag. “I can’t imagine one of our kind living that long and staying a virgin.” She possessed the violent tendencies of a kin female, though. There was no doubt about that. It had been far too long since he’d had the pleasure of a half-naked woman trying to kill him and then screaming in ecstasy for him.

  As he was tossing things into the bag, he picked up a pair of manacles, then shrugged and packed those as well. The girl had a temper on her, after all. It was going to take some effort to tame her.

  ***

  HE felt no guilt over abandoning the ship. Loyalty was one of the most important traits among sailors and it was the only way pirates could ever hope to work together, yet he had never felt much of a need to practice the virtue himself. Of all the people he’d known, Donny O’Cullane had likely been the only one he really felt much loyalty for since his parents had died. That loyalty didn’t extend to the man’s widow and daughter, which was why he had kept Donny’s personal affects for himself, but now guilt had him accompanying Donny’s only child.

  The sound of footsteps behind him brought his attention away from the night sky he had just been contemplating. Ol’ Paul the lookout was still passed out on the deck of the ship and Brigid O’Cullane had come up from below. The torn boy’s clothing he had seen her in last were gone, replaced by a dress that must have been taken as bounty from a ship. He guessed it had been hard to lace up her corset herself, but he appreciated the effort all the same. Those lush curves that had been so well hidden before were now on full display. He looked her over hungrily as he mentally stripped the dress off of her and thought of all the things he could do to that beautiful body once he really had time to devote to it.

  It wasn’t guilt alone that had driven him to capture Brigid and refuse to let her go treasure hunting alone, he admitted to himself.

  “I don’t care if you wench, but while we’re traveling together you’re to treat me as your wife and protect me from other men,” she said, her voice tight around the words. All of the passion he’d seen in her earlier was bottled up tightly now. He guessed it was because he had hurt her and she wasn’t one who showed her vulnerability easily.

  “Wife?” he asked, a hand automatically moving to touch the gold ring he wore on a chain around his neck. Liam had no objections to keeping up a charade while they went treasure hunting, but he felt a twinge of caution at what she might demand to keep up the act.

  “Aye, your wife. Are you deaf now?” she snapped. Brigid held up her hand to show him the simple ring she had slid onto her ring finger. Another stolen object from a ship they had attacked, he guessed.

  “Just making sure, luv. I’d hate to assume things about your plans.”

  In the dark, Brigid’s blue eyes looked nearly as black as his did when he shifted. Despite the darkness, he could see some emotion swimming behind their surface. Pain, possibly. Or distrust. She turned away before he could be sure and gave her red curls a toss. They were still a bit short for a woman, but he imagined they were absolutely wonderful to nestle into.

  “We’re going to spend the night at the Bed of Roses Inn and then take a ship to New Providence in the morning. I’ll give you the coin to pay for our night, but don’t you even think of taking my purse,” Brigid said.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He stooped to pick up her bag, then slung it over his shoulder along with his own bag of belongings.

  There was little talk between them as they walked through Tortuga. Dressed as a decent woman and walking closely with him kept Brigid from being accosted as most women would be at night in a pirate infested port. Every time he glanced at her she avoided his look, much to his frustration. Had he left her to her own devices, Liam was sure she would have been raped and murdered. Disguising herself as a pretty young lad would do no good when there were men just as happy to victimize boys as young women.

  Once he had paid for their room for the night and requested water be brought up for a bath, he discreetly slipped her change back into her hand. Taking her purse was the furthest thing from his mind, but he was somewhat curious about how long she would insist on paying for everything in their journey. It certainly wouldn’t bother him to not have to spend anything, but it was hardly what he’d expect of a woman. Especially not one who now acted as though she hated him.

  The room wasn’t very large, but clean and comfortable and far larger than what he’d had on the ship. The bed was more than twice as wide as the bed he had been using and he looked forward to sleeping on a mattress that didn’t sway with the sea. Liam dropped their bags and shut the door once the girls from the inn’s kitchen were done filling up the bath in the corner of the room. Soaking in a hot bath would be even more enjoyable than the bed, he thought.

  “I’m taking the bath first,” Brigid said.

  Before he could protest, she crossed the room and grabbed a folding dressing screen to move it between him and the bath, then disappeared behind it. He stared after her for a moment, then sighed heavily before settling on the edge of the bed. Her actions had made it clear enough that she had no interest in sharing the bath. He focused on taking off his boots for the moment, then flopped back onto the bed and groaned in pleasure. It wasn’t the finest bed he had ever laid on, but it was still quite nice. He closed his eyes, letting himself relax into the soft surface and idly fantasize about just how much treasure Donny had squirreled away.

  The quiet sound of sobs made him open his eyes. Liam pushed himself up into a sitting position again and cocked his ear toward
the screen and the bath beyond it. She was doing her best to stifle the sound and maybe human ears would have missed it, but for him there was no mistaking the fact that Brigid was crying.

  He stood up and crossed the room toward the bath, then hesitated. Emotions were difficult for him, confusing and uncomfortable both. There were some things that were best kept private besides, and had she wanted him to know she was crying she wouldn’t have hidden herself and done everything she could to stay quiet. It sounded like she could barely breathe for how hard she was fighting to silence herself, which made him wince and turn his head away. There was an unfamiliar pain in his chest that went down to one palm, where it felt as though he’d been stabbed. It had been a long time since he’d been tormented with empathy and he didn’t care for it at all.

  There had to be something he could do to set things aright between them. Traveling together if there was that sort of tension wouldn’t do, he rationalized.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE NEST

  BRIGID rubbed wet hands over her face, hoping the scrubbing and hot water would make all of her skin look equally pink, instead of just around her eyes from crying. Her mother had always told her that there was no shame in giving in to one’s emotions. The only thing to be cautious about was to whom they were shown. She had little reason to trust Liam after he kept her father’s things from her family and then threatened her with the brig. Letting him know how upset she was would only give him further leverage.

  She had taken what opportunities she could on board the ship to keep herself clean and certainly hadn’t been filthy when Liam had found her, but being taken against the wall and then having him start in on business talk before they had caught their breath had left her feeling dirtier than a pigsty. The retirement her father had hidden on the island would have helped before, but now she knew she would absolutely need it to survive. She had given away her chastity to a pirate. A proper marriage to a decent man would never be a possibility, not if she was honest and she’d have to be.

  After she rinsed herself off one last time, she stepped out of the water and picked up a towel to dry herself. She had brought a long nightshirt from her bag, which she pulled on, glad it covered almost to her ankles. Brigid paused a moment behind the screen to take a deep breath. Now that he’d had her once, would Liam expect her to warm his bed throughout their entire journey? She supposed it couldn’t possibly do any more damage to her honor and she would be lying if she claimed not to want him. Still, she felt concern at giving him too much control over her.

  When she finally stepped around the screen, she saw that he was lying on his back on the bed, still fully clothed save his boots. He picked his head up to look at her and she saw his brows furrow slightly at the nightshirt. Had he expected her to be naked? The thought made her face flush with anger and she walked stiffly across the room.

  “The water’s still warm,” she said.

  “All right then.” He stood up off the bed and stretched, groaning a bit as he arched his back, then took hold of his shirt to tug it over his head. “I’d been thinking. I…I think I’d be willing to take my share down to twenty-five percent. Since you paid for the inn and know the way to the island, after all.”

  She glanced over at him somewhat suspiciously, just in time to see him unbuckling his belt. Her eyes widened at the sight and she glanced away again. Nudity hadn’t been entirely uncommon on the ship, but it was quite a bit different to see a man naked when she was alone at an inn with him and they had already been intimate.

  His offer was difficult to believe after how he had acted before. “You’ll really let me keep the rest?”

  “Aye. Donny clearly meant for you to keep most of it.”

  Her eyes flicked back toward him. He had stripped entirely and was standing there, nude and perfect. His dark brown hair was kept short and neat, matching the thin trail of curls that began at his navel and wound down to a thicker patch. She hadn’t seen his cock clearly before and had to wrench her eyes away from it. He looked large to her inexperienced eye, though it hadn’t been as painful as she had expected when he had taken her. Perhaps because of the gentleness of his touch. She had assumed the tan of his skin was from being in the sun, but it extended over his entire body, only being a little darker on his arms and face where they were always exposed to the sun. He was just naturally dark, then. The way his tan skin and dark lashes contrasted with those pale blue eyes made him far more striking than any man had a right to be.

  “He meant for me to keep all of it,” she said.

  “Maybe.” He shrugged, not looking particularly concerned over that, then stepped behind the screen to take his bath.

  Brigid hugged her knees to her chest, wondering if she could find the map while he was in the bath. Surely he had it in his bag or his clothes, after all. Then again, he had been alone and unwatched while she was in the bath herself. He might have hidden it. The thought of having to deal with the agony of his company until they found her father’s treasure and then not even being entirely sure she’d be able to keep it was terrifying. His offer to only take twenty-five percent was no more believable or trustworthy than Liam himself was. He had gone from privateer to pirate without batting an eye. He had stolen his dead mate’s belongings. Putting any faith in him was an exercise in stupidity.

  She had crawled under the covers on the bed and scooted as close to the edge as she could when he finished with his bath. Brigid glanced over at him to see that he was still nude. He walked over by the bed and looked mildly confused.

  “Are you going to sleep like that?” he asked.

  She pulled the covers up higher to her chin. “Like what?”

  “All…straight up and down and dressed. Makes it a bit hard to get the bed comfortable, don’t you think?”

  She stared at him in confusion for a moment, then vaguely remembered how her father would sleep. He would pull all of the blankets and pillows to the center of the bed to create a sort of nest, then burrow down inside of it. Her mother never slept that way when he was gone, so she was sure it was entirely his own affectation. It had always looked comfortable to Brigid, but her mother didn’t consider it proper and only tolerated it out of love. Perhaps it was something he had picked up from her father when Donovan had mentored Liam.

  Or he was just trying to get her naked, she thought.

  Reluctantly, Brigid slipped out from under the covers to stand beside the bed. “How do you want to sleep, then?”

  He gave her an odd look, raising one brow, then grabbed onto the blankets and sheets to tug them down toward the center of the bed. So he did want to muss the bed the same way her father did, she mused. Having seen her father make his strange little nest to sleep enough times, she took hold of the pillows to help Liam. It looked more fit for a beast to sleep in than a person, but Liam seemed satisfied and crawled into the completely unmade bed.

  She waited a moment, to see if he would complain about her being dressed again, but he said nothing. Brigid pulled back the rumpled covers to insinuate herself beneath them, then curled up with her back to him to try to sleep.

  Rest wouldn’t come easily. Her body remained stiff, still anticipating him touching her or making demands. After a few minutes had passed, she could hear his breath had taken on the steadiness of sleep and she sagged against the bed. Disappointment at him not touching her was completely illogical, but she felt it all the same. She inched backward on the bed until her body brushed his. Though he still seemed to be asleep, one of his arms automatically draped around her, then pulled her close to his chest and he curved his body around hers, nuzzling into the back of her neck.

  Though she couldn’t explain the reasoning behind it, that touch finally let her release the tension she had been holding and she soon fell asleep in his arms.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BOUND

  THE ship they found to take them to New Providence was almost entirely crewed by men fresh from England. That didn’t sit well with Liam, knowing how da
ngerous the waters were around New Providence even to those who had spent their lives sailing the Caribbean. One of the primary ways the inhabitants made their living was as wreckers, collecting goods from ships that sank after striking rock and coral. The storm that had cost Donny his life had been near there. Even with all the skill of that crew and Liam’s navigation, they hadn’t been able to keep from damaging the ship and losing the first mate. If he couldn’t trust himself to keep people he cared about safe, trusting strange Englishmen to keep him and Brigid safe seemed absurd.

  “She’s awful red, isn’t she?”

  Liam had been leaning against the rail on the ship, but his head turned toward the voice of the crewmen. They were talking among themselves, far louder than they should have been. Their eyes were on Brigid, who had come up from their cabin for some fresh air. He could tell by the stiffness in her body that she had heard them and she turned away, raising her chin defiantly. She didn’t retreat back below as he might have expected. She simply refused to look at the men and acknowledge them.

  “Wonder if she’s as red below deck as she is topside,” one of the crewmen joked. He was answered with bawdy laughter and their discussion grew more graphic as they talked about what they’d enjoy doing to the pale redhead.

  “Quit your clatterwacking,” Liam said sharply. “Hold your tongues while my wife is on board.”

  There were a few mumbled apologies and then the men went back to their work. If they said anything more about Brigid, he couldn’t hear them. More importantly, she couldn’t either.

 

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