“Thank you,” Brigid said quietly when she came to stand beside him.
“You’d think the idiots had never seen a beautiful woman before.”
A touch of pink showed up in those pale cheeks and a small smile tugged at one corner of Brigid’s mouth. “You think I’m beautiful?”
He gave her a shrewd look, wondering where she came up with these questions. It was like her odd questions about making a proper nest in the bed at the inn. Couldn’t she tell he found her absolutely breathtaking? “Of course.”
She was quiet for a moment, but leaned in closer to him, letting one shoulder brush against his chest. He smiled at the light contact and moved an arm around her to pull her closer to him. The fighting and trying to kill him when he’d caught her in his cabin had certainly been invigorating, but the contrast with a more gentle moment was appealing as well.
“Thank you,” she said again.
He leaned in to bring his lips next to her ear, so he could murmur to her. “No sense in calling you my wife if I don’t defend your honor, is there?”
She gave her head a small shake. “I don’t think there’s much to defend.”
He scoffed at that, but didn’t quite know what to say in response, so just pulled her closer. He felt as she relaxed against him, molding herself to his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. They stood companionably like that for several moments before she began pulling away.
“I don’t like the way the men look at me, so I was going to see if the cook might have dinner done early and I could take it in our cabin. Do you want to join me?” she asked.
“Aye, that sounds good. Do you need me to go with you to the galley?”
She smiled, but shook her head again. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He wasn’t as sure of that with how coarse the crew was, but he didn’t argue with her. As she walked back below deck, he had to watch her in silent admiration. Delicate women who couldn’t care for themselves didn’t last long in the harsh world Liam inhabited, but there was something more to Brigid. While many of the women he’d known took care of themselves through their feminine wiles and finding men to protect them in exchange for sex, Brigid showed no interest in manipulating him. She was grateful that he’d spoken up for her, but hadn’t acted as though she expected it. He still worried about her, but that fierce temper he’d seen before was only the beginning of the strength she hid.
The deck held little appeal once she was out of sight, so Liam went below to their cabin. Because they were traveling as passengers instead of crew, the cabin was far nicer than he could have expected on a ship like this. It would be cramped to share with another person for the entire journey, though. He sat at the small table in their cabin as he considered that and how better to heal the rift between them. His offer of taking less money had been the first thing that had come to mind, but now he saw how futile of an effort that was. She hadn’t acted as though it was generous or that she was happy to know she’d have more of her father’s gold.
While he was still considering his options, the door was pushed open. Brigid nudged her way through using one hip to keep the door open as she stepped through with a platter holding bowls and flagons. Liam came to his feet to take the tray from her and set it on the table. She flashed him a grateful smile before she turned back to the door to secure it.
“I’d been hoping their rations might be better than what we’ve had, but I’m afraid not. The beer is probably all right, but it’s hardtack, salt beef and…sour crowd?”
“Sauerkraut,” he corrected absently. It wasn’t the worst he had ever eaten on board a ship, but it wasn’t particularly satisfying either.
“Sauerkraut,” she repeated.
Once she settled herself into a chair, she picked up the hardtack and tapped it against the side of her bowl. The dense, dry bread was useful for long sea voyages, but nearly impossible to eat on its own. Both of them dropped their hardtack into the broth that held their salt beef and fermented cabbage, staring down at the meal in dejection. The sauerkraut would stave off scurvy, which was always important on long sea voyages, but in a land of tropical fruits with islands clustered closely together some of the methods used in Europe hadn’t caught on. The Black Pride had included limes in their rations, so he wasn’t surprised that Brigid was unfamiliar with sauerkraut.
“Wait, I have something that might improve this meal,” Liam said. He got up to check his bag, then pulled out a small, wax covered cheese wheel and a knife. He glanced up to see Brigid’s eyes alight with pleasure and he had to grin.
“Oh, cheese. That does help,” she sighed.
“If we’re careful, it might last us until we get to New Providence. It’ll keep us from going mad on this food, at least,” he said as he peeled off the wax, then sliced the cheese into small wedges. He divided them up evenly between the both of them.
She took one of the pieces and gave him another smile before she nibbled at it, then swigged from her beer. “I’ll be happy to get home again and have fresh food from the farm.”
“You have a farm?” he asked, trying not to let too much surprise enter his voice. Donny had always kept his cards close to his chest about his home life, keeping his life at sea and his family as separate as possible. It made him wonder how much about his old friend he had never known. Picturing Donny as a farmer seemed incredibly strange.
Brigid nodded as she ate. She chewed and swallowed the bite of beef she had just taken, then answered him. “Just a little one, south of Port Royal. We have a few goats and chickens and grow enough crops to feed ourselves and sell a bit on the side.”
“Huh.” He stabbed a piece of the salt beef on his knife to eat it, considering that. “I always pictured Donny as having some huge house on a hill. He was a smart man. Didn’t spend his coin foolishly like most.”
“A farm is a smarter thing to own,” Brigid said with a shrug. “I think a lot of what he collected over the years was saved for when he retired from privateering. That’s what the map is for.”
There was no barb in her voice, but Liam felt unexpectedly guilty at that even so. Still, if Donny had wanted his daughter to find his stash alone, he would have kept a copy of the map with her instead of with himself when he knew he ran the risk of dying at sea. Donny had sense. He’d known his headstrong daughter would go and get herself killed if she’d had the map. It was a good justification to keep it, Liam decided. He wasn’t being selfish. He was carrying out his old mentor’s wishes.
“Is that what you want to do? Buy up land for farming?” Liam asked.
Brigid wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Not really. I like it well enough, but now all of the farming is being taken over by slave owners and it’s becoming impossible to make a living at it without doing that. I refuse to be a part of it. I might expand the farm when I can afford to, but we’ll see. It might make the most sense to buy up as much land as I can and then sell it off as it gets harder to find.”
Liam raised his beer at that, grinning. “Now you sound like Donny. That’s the kind of thinking that made him so good at what he did.”
“Was he good at it?” Brigid asked, leaning forward slightly. She braced her elbows on the edge of the table and propped her chin in her hands, looking to him curiously. “I always figured he was, but I think every little girl imagines her father as the greatest man alive.”
Liam paused to take a bite. It was odd to discuss Donny with someone who had known him all of her life when he had known him for nearly half of his own, but neither of them had ever known him in the same way. “Aye, he was good. He taught me everything I know. Like if you’re going to fight, never be the captain. A merchant captain is fine enough, but a pirate or navy captain is just asking to end up dead in these waters. First mate is safer, but quartermaster—in charge of navigation and leading boarding parties, like me—is the safest and with the greatest power should mutiny happen. It’s easy enough to cut your losses and leave if things turn sour, but a captain can’t do that.”
That made Liam hesitate. It seemed an innocent enough question, but he sensed there was some greater meaning behind it. “Only when I think it’s necessary.”
"Was it necessary after my father died?"
Now he understood. He sighed and reached across the table to touch one of her hands, but she jerked back out of his reach, making him frown. “For me? Aye, it was. I’d known Donny for eleven years. He was almost like a second father to me. That ship carried too many damn memories and too much guilt. I’d done my best, but it wasn’t good enough. He went overboard and that wasn’t something I could ever forget. But I could leave the ship and try not to be reminded quite so much.”
“Oh,” she said softly. No more questions came after that. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with her silence, though he usually didn’t mind a lack of talking. If anything, he often longed for it when surrounded by overly chatty people. He wanted to know what she was thinking. Nothing could bring Donny back, but having his daughter understand and forgive Liam could silence some of the demons in his own head.
Brigid finished eating first and rose from the table to sit down on the bed. She pulled out a brush from her bag and began carefully working it through her curls. Liam leaned back in his chair with his beer, sipping it as he watched her. Finally, he knew what he could do to help things between them. He knocked back the last dregs of his drink, then got up from his chair to sit behind her.
“Let me?” he asked, covering her hand with his own.
She released the brush to him, then settled her hands in her lap. “I don’t really need help. There isn’t much left of it now.”
“Maybe you need things you haven’t recognized yet,” he countered softly.
He worked the brush through those enticing curls slowly, watching as they bounced and exploded into fluff after the brush passed through. She was right that there wasn’t much to brush with how short she had cut it, but it was still lovely. He leaned slightly to see her face in profile. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. Tension that she’d been carrying since he’d found her in his cabin was finally melting away.
He set the brush side, then slid his fingers through her hair, combing it out and admiring it, before he gave into temptation and nuzzled into it, inhaling her scent deeply. He felt her shiver and gasp softly, making him smile. One arm slipped around her to cradle her back against his chest.
He used his free hand to brush her hair away from the back of her neck. He kissed there softly, feeling the tremors rushing through her body at the soft contact. Another gentle kiss and then he scraped at the delicate skin with his teeth. He was rewarded with a quiet moan from her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
FREELY CHOSEN
“WHY didn’t you touch me last night?” Her voice was quiet, with a touch of what he thought might be distrust in it. Grooming and touch was important to their kind and could smooth over many problems, but maybe he’d waited too long to try to do things right.
“I heard you crying. I worried you didn’t want me touching you.”
Her head turned toward him and their eyes met before she leaned back and brushed a kiss against his lips. Liam closed his eyes and held himself in check, letting her control the kiss for the moment. Her lips slid over his tentatively; her inexperience was obvious and he mentally kicked himself for not recognizing that their first time together until it was too late.
“I wanted you,” she said when she drew back from the kiss. “It’s all just been…confusing.”
“I suppose so. I didn’t do things right with you before and you deserve better.” He ducked to kiss at her neck again, then nuzzled around to the side.
With a shuddering sigh, she relaxed back against him, resting her head over his shoulder, her head tipped back to expose more of her throat to him. “Do you really think I’m beautiful or did you just say that earlier because it’s what men say to get under women’s skirts?” she whispered.
He drew back to look down at her incredulously. “Why would I want under your skirt if I didn’t find you beautiful?”
“I’ve heard the way sailors talk about wenches when they’ve had their fun. They’re not very kind.”
His hand came up to gently turn her face toward him before he slid his lips against hers. “Did you ever hear me talk like that?”
“No.” The word was soft, making her lips brush against his.
“The ones who brag and insult women are fools and the world would be a better place if all women knew it and let those men die alone and unwanted.”
He felt Brigid pull away and opened his eyes. She was giving him an incredulous look with a faint smile. “Women know all sorts of things, but they also don’t always have a choice when it comes to trying to survive.”
Liam shrugged, not quite knowing what to say regarding that. He knew women were forced to take husbands or sell themselves or become mistresses in order to survive, but it was difficult for him to wrap his mind around that lack of power. Some men saw women as barely human, just objects for their pleasure and birthing children, but he liked to think of himself as more enlightened. True, he had no thoughts of marriage or taking a partner in life and went from woman to woman as the sea carried him to new ports. Yet he cared about their desire for him, didn’t he?
“Are you choosing my bed?” he asked, before leaning in to brush soft kisses along her throat.
He felt her sigh and melt against him once more. “Yes.”
That was answer enough for him. Liam moved to capture her mouth with his once again and slid his hands between them to find the laces keeping her bodice closed. His lips stroked over hers slowly, his hunger for her smoldering beneath the surface. Holding himself in check to take her slowly and introduce her to everything he’d rushed through before would be difficult, but worth it. He owed it to her. When he felt her lips part to his, his tongue darted between them to stroke just inside her lips, then seek out her tongue with his. Her quiet moans were swallowed up into the kiss as she gave herself over to it, but there was no submission in her this time. Their tongues met and wrestled for control, making him groan in pleased surprise at her boldness.
Once he finished unlacing the bodice, she shrugged it off along with the stomacher—a decorative panel that sat beneath the lacings of the bodice. It left her upper body still covered in her corset and chemise. His hands moved down to release her overskirt and the petticoats beneath, before taking hold of them and pulling them down her legs. She broke off the kiss and scooted back on the bed away from him as she kicked her legs free. His eyes rose to take in her flushed face, her lips parted slightly and looking swollen from the kiss. Nudity had never been a particular concern among his kind, but seeing her there half-dressed was more arousing than the most wanton display possible. His hands slid down her calves to pull off her shoes, then inched their way up beneath her chemise to find the laces holding up her stockings.
“You have excellent taste in the wardrobes you steal,” he said wryly before his lips found hers again. She laughed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him in closer.
It took more effort to get her corset loose and once her full curves were finally released from their bondage he groaned appreciatively, his hands automatically moving to cup her breasts through her chemise. He kneaded them slowly, then moved down over her soft stomach and generous hips. His teeth scraped at her bottom lip, his hands tugging her hips up against him, and he rolled his body to hers, letting her feel the aching need for her he suffered. His hands slid lower to get under the chemise again, then pushed it upward. She tipped her head back to break the kiss with a gasp and helped him slide the chemise over her head.
The necessity to touch her was overwhelming, but there was a more pressing need first. He pulled back from her to rise to his feet and stand beside the bed, so he could finally drink in the sight of her fully nude. Her pale, soft body was arranged on the bed as if she were posing for some
painting of an ancient goddess; her midnight blue eyes watched him through a fringe of red lashes.
“’Tis a crime to keep that splendor covered, luv,” he told her before he pulled off his boots, then followed them with his shirt.
She laughed quietly and he could see her cheeks turn bright red as he began unbuckling his belt. With that pale skin, there wasn’t a thing she could hide. The blush even extended down her chest to those ripe breasts tempting him beyond all reason.
“I suppose I’m a criminal with everyone but you, then,” she said.
“I can live with that.”
He stripped off his breeches and drawers beneath, then stepped closer to the bed again. Before he could move back onto it, one of her hands slid against his stomach. He stilled himself, surprised by the touch. Liam watched as Brigid shifted onto her knees, then leaned forward to kiss at his throat. Her lips were soft there and he felt the flicker of her tongue tracing against his stubbled skin.
Her kisses moved lower over his chest, nuzzling against the hard muscle there and he groaned quietly under her attention. One hand moved to bury his fingers in her hair, stroking through her curls as she moved down his body. His eyes slipped closed when he felt her nuzzling over his stomach, but flew open in shock as she moved further down his body.
The hot brush of her breath against his cock made him exhale shakily and the sight of her pink tongue darting against his head was just as much of a pleasure as the sensation. Her eyes rolled up to look toward his face, locking with his eyes as she kissed against his shaft. Her tongue slowly dragged along his length, following up to his head again. He was possessed with the need to push her back on the bed and bury himself inside of her, to take her roughly with all the hunger she stirred in him.
It wouldn’t be right, though. He had to do things right with her, no matter how agonizingly tempting she was. Liam gave her hair a gentle tug as he pulled his hips back from her kisses.
“I’ll let you explore to your heart’s content some other time, but this is my turn,” he said before moving back onto the bed.
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