by Lisa Kessler
She definitely made the right decision.
Better to end things before the connection with him got complicated and painful.
One-Eyed Bob approached with a brown bag in hand. He wore a worn leather eyepatch and a grin as he offered the bag to her. “Brought you some hush puppies to go.”
The bag was still warm. Her stomach growled, and she laughed. “My belly says thank you.” She paused, gesturing to the eyepatch. “On your legacy wall at the restaurant, I thought you had a…prosthetic?”
“Aye.” He flipped up the patch, exposing his beautiful green glass eye. “But I prefer my patch when we sail.” He shrugged. “I have to change things up for the folks in town. Next time I have to inherit the restaurant again, I think I’ll have a beard and a patch.”
She shook her head. “You don’t think anyone’s ever going to find out your secret?”
“I think some already have, but when the truth is ‘impossible,’ most people find it easier to believe the lie.” He pointed at John. “Our boatswain has taken a shine to you.”
Skye’s earlier warning about Bob playing matchmaker flashed through Harmony’s mind like a red alert. She forced a smile. “I made your crew a million in gold tonight. Why wouldn’t I be at the top of his list of favorite mortals?”
A silver brow cocked in her direction. “A million is a drop in the bucket for our crew. This has nothing to do with money.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know why it would be anything else. I’m on track to get old and die, and you guys have…found a loophole.”
Bob crossed his arms. “Are you saying you’d rather spend your life with a lubber who is going to end up an old barnacle like me?”
Harmony laughed, surprising herself. “Maybe I’m choosing no man at all. If you don’t depend on anyone, then no one can ever let you down, right?”
Bob glanced up at the mast and back to Harmony. “We couldn’t sail the Sea Dog alone. It takes a crew. The trick is finding the right one.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Enjoy the hush puppies.”
He headed for the galley, leaving his words behind to sink in and screw with her head. Crafty old pirate. She stared up at the massive mainsail. He was right about sailing. Her one-man skiff was much smaller in scale than the Sea Dog.
John approached, giving her a reprieve from her inner turmoil. “Can I take you back to your car?”
She wasn’t sure what she expected, but this wasn’t it. Suddenly she was tongue-tied.
John shifted his weight. “If you’d rather, I can ask someone else to—”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, you don’t need to do that.” She cleared her throat. “I was just…didn’t expect you to offer.”
“I’m a pirate, not an asshole.”
A smile crept up on her. “I know, I just thought after…”
“I’m capable of respecting your wishes. We still work together, and you’re still getting the promotion.” He waved at Colton and started to reach for her hand before he stopped himself and rubbed his chin instead.
She hated herself for wanting to take all her earlier words back.
Her focus needed to be on selling the replica of the box, not dating an immortal pirate who also happened to be her boss.
My life is so weird.
They walked across the gangplank and onto the dock. The solid ground seemed foreign for the first few steps, her sea legs struggling to compensate for a current that was no longer present. She’d forgotten this part. More proof she’d been away from the water for far too long.
John popped the locks on his car, his eyes falling to the bag in her hands. “Bob likes you.”
She shrugged, smiling as she got in the car. “Or he wanted to get rid of the leftovers.” She buckled her seat belt and blinked. Suddenly they were back inside John’s garage. She frowned. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Apparently your nap earlier wasn’t enough to make up for the sleepless night.” He pressed the button to close the garage door. “You might as well spend the night here. Drake is bringing the replica of the box by in the morning. You’re welcome to use my computer if you need to make arrangements for the drop tomorrow.”
She rubbed the back of her neck, exhaustion hanging like a millstone, but even dog-tired, this was a bad idea. “I can make it back to my place.”
He sighed and finally glanced over at her. “You were perfectly clear on the ship. I’ve got guestrooms upstairs. This isn’t a game. If you’re meeting a buyer tomorrow, you have to be alert.”
She bristled. “I’m well aware it’s not a game. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“I wasn’t implying it was.” He rolled his eyes and got out of the car. “Do whatever you like. Drake will be here by ten o’clock in the morning with your box.”
He jogged up the cement stairs and into the house. The door closed behind him. She stretched and wrestled to clear her head. As much as it pained her to admit it, John was probably right. It was stupid to drive across town, exhausted, only to turn around and come back for the box in the morning.
She plodded up the staircase and opened the door.
John stood by the kitchen sink, sipping a glass of rum. “You decided to stay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, keeping her chin high. “Thanks for the offer.”
“You know where the study is. My computer password is Davy Jones, all one word.”
She raised a brow. “You’re giving a thief with hacking skills your password?”
“No.” He shook his head with a smirk. “I’m telling a fellow pirate and a trusted employee my password.”
Hearing him call her a pirate made an empty spot inside of her, the part of her aching for approval, swell with emotions she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
She rubbed a hand down her face. “Why are you being nice to me? I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“There isn’t one.” He knocked back the rest of the amber liquid and set the glass on the counter. “Am I disappointed? Yes and no. In the long run, it’s probably safest for me to continue my tradition of no emotional attachments to mortals. But I was willing to face the pain if it meant I got a lifetime of hearing you laugh.”
He swiped the glass off the counter and placed it into the sink. “Will I be able to go back to being your employer and nothing more? Probably.” He faced her again, his intense stare pinning her in place. “Will I enjoy it? No way in bloody fucking hell.”
The fire in his eyes warmed her all over. Dangerous.
She crossed her arms, hoping it would keep her from surrendering to the temptation to touch him. “If you think I won’t be imagining how it felt to be in your arms, or wondering who might be taking my place there, you’re wrong.”
He raked his hair back from his forehead. “Then why are you pushing me away?”
“Because right now, this very second, I’m wishing I could fall into your arms and forget about everything else.”
Confusion lined his eyes. “This makes no sense.”
“John, can’t you see? If I stay here with you, I’ll lose myself. You have the resources to make my wildest dreams come true. If I accept it, this hunger in my gut to change the world, even if it means breaking a few laws, will fizzle out. People will die.”
He leaned against the counter, his hands on either side. “You think I’ll tame you? Please. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He stared up at the ceiling. “If I wanted to give a woman a bottomless credit line and keep her locked away in my house like a princess in a tower, I could choose any social climber in this city.”
“Then why don’t you?” Her exhaustion was magnifying her emotions. She gritted her teeth, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay.
“That’s not what I want.” He shook his head and came closer, but he didn’t try to touch her. His voice was low, a raw rumble. “I want you.”
Her breath caught, her heart melting in spite of her attempts to harden it. “I’m not a princess for you to take care of or a treasure to
protect.”
“No.” He lifted his hand, slowly caressing her cheek. “You’re a pirate, love. An equal in your own right. And just so you understand. I would never clip your glorious wings.”
He dropped his hand, taking a step back. “I’m sorry that you think I make you weak. I have no doubt, although you make me frustrated with worry sometimes, that being near you makes me strong.”
He turned and walked out. His footfalls echoed down the hallway, followed by the click of his bedroom door. It took every ounce of her control to keep from chasing after him. She reached for her phone, before she remembered it falling down the stairs. She’d have to replace it before the meeting tomorrow afternoon. If she’d had it in her pocket, it would’ve been ruined in the storm anyway.
She went to John’s computer and logged in, then set about opening her encrypted email server. After skimming the emails, she sent a message to Tuck.
My wingman isn’t going to work out for the drop tomorrow. Will you come with me? I emailed the buyer to meet us at Oglethorpe Square at two o’clock.
Next, she emailed Trumain and firmed up the details of the exchange. The days were blurring together. It seemed like an eternity ago that John threw a dagger at an intruder and took a bullet to save her life.
He’d referred to the man in the robe wearing a snake ring as a member of the Serpent Society. They were the same group she’d tracked down when the Holy Grail had been on the black market. She wasn’t sure of their motives, but if John hadn’t put himself between her and that bullet, she’d be dead.
So, the Serpents were willing to kill to get their hands on that box.
She was a thief. She wasn’t a killer.
As soon as the Digi Robins got the cash for the replica, she was going to need to lay low, or leave town for a while. If the Serpent Society somehow discovered she’d sold them a copy, John wouldn’t be there to stop the next bullet.
She’d worry about that once the money was in the Digi Robins fund.
Tuck sent her an email confirming John’s transfer of funds came through and he was already configuring the new software. She skimmed the details, but it sounded like they’d be ready for the transaction tomorrow. Good enough for now.
The stairs to the second floor seemed massive. Her legs ached by the time she reached the landing. She went into the first door and turned on the light.
It was like she’d stepped back in time. The bed, dresser, and small wooden rocker were all antiques, the quilt on the bed was definitely handmade, and the books on the worn shelf were leather-bound and well-loved.
She dropped her bag and went to the books. Running her finger along the spines, a smile tugged at her lips. He had first editions of Moby-Dick, Treasure Island, The Old Man and the Sea, and many nautical titles she’d never heard of, like A General History of the Pyrates.
Carefully, she slid that last title free from the shelf and carried it over to the bed. When she opened the cover, yellowed newspaper articles fell onto her lap. She laid the book aside, examining the snippets.
One commemorated the opening of Privateer Capital in Savannah. The tiny black-and-white photo of John made the hair on her arms rise. Yes, he’d told her he was immortal, and hell, she’d even seen him heal from a bullet wound, but something about seeing his handsome face in a yellowed paper, in period clothes—it shook her.
She set the article beside her and unfolded the next one. This one was dated 1839. The Savannah Historical Society was founded in large part by an anonymous donation of antique gold coins and nautical “weapons and accoutrements” left behind by long-ago pirate crews. She lifted her head, staring at the open door.
John gave them some of his things. Had to be. Why else would he have kept the article?
She unfolded the next paper, skimming the faded text. An obituary for…Anne Bonny. Anne had a colorful life as a pirate sailing with Calico Jack, but it ended as a respectable woman with twelve children and a home in Charlestown, South Carolina.
Why would John keep this, unless—she checked the dates again. Could John be one of her twelve children? Not likely. He’d told Harmony he was forty when he drank from the cup the first time. Anne Bonny would’ve been fifty-ish when he was born. Not impossible, but highly unlikely.
Unsure what to make of it, Harmony set the article aside, inspecting a couple of faded, sepia-toned photos that were mixed in with the newspaper clippings. One was John with a younger man in a confederate uniform. She held it up toward the light for a closer look. Eli. The young gunner on the Sea Dog. She’d met him briefly in passing tonight.
John wasn’t wearing a uniform in the photo, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get involved in the war. Her head was swimming with questions.
This wasn’t helping her sleep.
She gathered up the papers and photos to put them back inside the book as she skimmed the names of the pirate captains featured. Then she noticed the publishing date was 1724. Probably before Captain Flynn and his crew had even piloted the original Sea Dog.
She got into bed and opened to the chapter on Anne Bonny. She supported the spine, gently turning the pages, and promised herself this was just curiosity, not an attempt to learn more about John’s swashbuckling past.
Chapter Seventeen
John woke with the sun and went to the kitchen to start the coffee. He opened the door to the garage, half expecting his Porsche to be gone, but it was still parked. Harmony must’ve stayed overnight. He wandered down the hallway to the stairs, staring up and wondering if she remembered to set an alarm on her phone. The clock on the wall confirmed he had almost an hour before Drake would arrive with the replica. He didn’t hear the shower upstairs, either.
He jogged up the carpeted steps and turned the corner at the landing to find the door to the first bedroom open. Harmony was sound asleep with A General History of the Pyrates lying beside her. He blinked, unsure why his heart stuttered.
It wasn’t the book that had him on edge.
It was what was tucked in the cover.
He moved quickly, careful not to rouse her as he retrieved the volume. He peered inside. The yellowed articles and photos were still there. He slid the book back in its place on the shelf as Harmony stirred behind him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to leave it out.”
He turned around with a shrug. “I wasn’t upset.”
“You didn’t tell me the Sea Dog crew fought in the Civil War.” She rubbed her eyes.
He stiffened. She’d seen the pictures and clippings. He cleared his dry throat and shook his head. “Only Eli. We all tried to talk sense into him. We were privateers, not soldiers. We served no kings or presidents.”
“But no one could kill him.”
“Aye.” He nodded, trying to keep his focus on the bookshelves instead of her tousled black hair and taut nipples teasing him through the sweatshirt as she stretched. “But we learned from One-Eyed Bob that the Grail healed wounds, but his missing eye didn’t grow back. Just like the scars on my back. The whip took bites from my flesh, but the Grail didn’t fill in the missing pieces. It stood to reason if a cannon took off Eli’s leg, the wound would heal, but he wouldn’t get a new leg.”
He’d never shared any of these secrets with another soul. Why was it so blasted simple to open up to her? And why the hell did he want to? Fuck.
She didn’t want a relationship. He shouldn’t, either.
John turned for the door. “Drake will be here with the box soon. Do you have an appointment for the exchange?”
She finally lifted her head. “Yeah. I should have time to swap for a new phone and run home to change clothes, too.” Her dark eyes rose to his face. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned on the doorframe. “Did you find someone to go with you?” He put his hand up before she could speak. “I’m not doubting your abilities. Just curious and concerned for—my best broker.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Tuck is coming with me.” She sat up,
dropping her feet off the edge of the bed. “I’ll totally understand if you say no, but—” She stood, taking a couple of steps toward him. “Maybe we could have dinner later?”
He raised a brow. “I thought I made you weak?”
She wet her lips. “You also make me curious.”
He risked another step closer to her, aching to touch her soft skin. “About?”
“Your life—before the Grail came into it.”
He crossed his arms. “If I agree, I have conditions.”
“All right.” She chuckled.
The sight of her smile warmed him. “I want to know about your life before you came to work for me, before you found your cause.”
She sobered with a sigh. “This is a bad idea.”
“You’re wrong.” He closed the distance between them and took her hand. “Enough games.” He searched her eyes. “You thrive on taking risks. I could be your biggest yet.”
She reached up to cup his cheek. “I’ll drive you insane. You’re all order and well-thought-out plans, and I need to push boundaries. I won’t let anyone put me in a protective cage, not even you.”
He turned to press a kiss to her fingers, his gaze never leaving hers. “No cages.” He smiled. “But I should warn you, if you walk away now, you’ll be missing a potentially orgasmic risk.”
“You play dirty, John Smyth.” Desire flickered in her eyes as she wet her lips.
“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” He bent to kiss her and scooped her up into his arms. She hummed into his mouth as he carried her toward the bed, but the doorbell rang.
“Fuck,” he growled.
“Agreed.” She grinned, stealing one more kiss. “Maybe I can shower here and buy some clothes before the meeting.”
“I’ll go let Drake in. The bathroom is down the hall.”
…
David jogged up the steps to Heather Storrey’s door and knocked. He’d already sent her a text and left a voicemail, but she hadn’t answered, and he was running out of time. Now that he had Pandora’s box in storage, he needed to move in on the Digi Robins before they detected King’s digital infiltration and vanished again.