“Yeah, really!” A few seconds later, the lie was gnawing at her. “Okay... not really. I'm twenty-six. But twenty-six is considered old for a whore in Bordeaux, so I'm encouraged to lie about my age.”
The prince's eyes swelled at her words. “Wait... you're one of the prostitutes?” Mary Melissa Mae had the face of an angel. It was a difficult thought to digest.
“Oh god. Did you really think I only served drinks?” Mae tossed her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at his naivete. Not far away, an intoxicated Kieran McCray was pounding his table, demanding more whiskey. “Well, I guess I better tend to him before his head explodes. I'll be right back, Nico.”
Nico pouted as he watched her go. For some reason, he felt crushed. Mae was too pretty and too sweet to be touched by random men. Just like him, she was trapped in The Velvet Dame. She wasn't allowed to leave. He barely knew her, but he already wanted something better for her.
More importantly, Nico wanted something better for himself. Somehow, he needed to escape the brothel and make his way back home.
Ten
“Is there anything I can get for you, Captain?” Jared asked with a frown. Despite being one of the most capable fighters in Julian's crew, he had to suffer the indignity of being the captain's personal serving boy.
Julian was lounging on the deck, watching the clouds as the airship cruised. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of obnoxiously large sunglasses, and his billowy white shirt was entirely unbuttoned. In his hand, he held a huge glass of lemonade, which he sipped through a curved wooden straw. As soon as Jared appeared in front of him, he raised the glass. “This isn't sweet enough,” the captain complained. “Do you think you could add more sugar?”
“Of course, sir.” When Jared accepted the glass from Julian's outstretched hand, he expressed his irritation with a sigh. “Is there anything else?”
“More ice,” Julian requested. “It isn't nearly cold enough.”
“Alright.” Even though he was vexed, Jared hoped his face wouldn't betray him. After all, he was speaking to the captain, and he wanted to sound as accommodating as possible. “Anything else?”
“I could really use a hat, especially a hat with a wide brim. I need to protect my face from sunburn.”
“Uh huh.” Though Jared took a step backward, he asked again,“Is there anything else you need, or will that be all?”
“I think I'm good, Jared. Thanks.” Julian leaned forward and patted the younger man's arm. “Your captain appreciates you!”
When Jared was gone, Julian heaved a contented sigh. For the moment, everything was perfect. His crew was obedient and skilled, women loved him, and he recently acquired a gorgeous new airship. Life was good. Of course, he would have to return to the palace eventually, at least before Princess Isabella's birthday. He didn't look forward to discussing the topic of Prince Nico's disappearance. Abandoning the prince wouldn't earn him any merits.
“Who knows,” Julian whispered to himself. “Maybe the lad made it back to the palace on his own? Maybe I'm worrying for nothing?”
“Captain!” Jolly's booming voice suddenly shook him from his thoughts. “I found Miss Letitia, as you requested.” When Jolly dragged her forward, he gave her such a hard push that she nearly fell on top of Julian.
Captain Featherstone pushed his sunglasses to his forehead and smiled ineffectually at Lettie. His smile was wasted on her, since she was determined to detest him. “Ah, Letitia. And how are you today? Are you enjoying my ship?”
Lettie's reply was dryly sarcastic. “Oh yes. I'm loving it. It's delightful.”
There was a witty retort on the tip of Julian's tongue, but Jolly interrupted before he could speak. “We found this on her, Captain.” As he tattled on Lettie, Jolly lifted a huge machete. “I have no idea where she found it or what she intended to do with it, but I don't think you should give her free rein of the ship anymore. She's dangerous.”
A slight smirk snaked its way onto Lettie's heart-shaped lips. She liked to be perceived as dangerous.
“Damn, that is a huge knife!” Julian swiped the machete from Jolly's hand and studied its serrated edge. “Well, she's definitely resourceful. She's crafty. I like it.”
“I don't like it,” Jolly openly disagreed with his captain. “If you give her too much freedom, she'll cause trouble for you.”
“And what would you have me do, Jolly? Lock her up?”
“I would. Lock her up with the rest of her men. I don't care that she's a woman. That'd be the safest thing for all of us.”
Julian wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I'll bear that in mind. For now, however, I'd like to give her another chance. If you want people to treat you kindly, you have to show them kindness first.”
“Right,” Lettie spoke up. “And you must be well on your way to success, Captain Featherstone, since you've been so kind to me thus far! When you attacked me and stole my airship, I wanted to hug you!”
“Mmm. A hug would be nice.” Julian held out his arms. “Feel free to indulge yourself, Letitia.”
“Lettie. If you have to call me something, call me that.” When he started to reach for her, she slapped his arms away. “And I'm not going to hug you. I'd throw myself over the side of the airship before I'd let you hug me!”
Her remark had him chuckling. “Now you're being a little overdramatic, darling.”
“I'm not. I swear to God, I'm not!”
Julian yawned at her tirade. Every now and then, he enjoyed the company of difficult women because they posed an interesting challenge. When a resistant female finally let down her guard, there was no greater victory than that. Lettie, however, was a bit too difficult. Attempting to charm her would be a torturous task.
“So, uh... Lettie,” Julian began, leaning forward in his chair, “While you're not a prisoner, you're still a guest on this ship, and even guests are expected to work. Everyone must work.” He awaited her reaction with an inappropriately sweet smile.
“Everyone except for you.” Lettie kicked his lounge chair. “You don't look like you're working. You look like you're having a grand old time sitting on your ass.”
Lettie's argument was supported by the return of Jared, who carried the captain's lemonade. Julian's smile broadened as he sipped from the cup. “I'm a captain, dear. Sitting on the ass is what captains do best.”
“I was a captain,” Lettie reminded him. “And that's not what I did. I was very much a part of the crew!”
“You were a captain for a day, love.” When he finished speaking, Julian loudly guzzled through his straw. Lettie was stunned, so he continued, “Oh, are you surprised that I know that? One of your men told me. He said your captaincy was short-lived. He also had a very scathing opinion about women in leadership positions, but I defended you. I'm sure you would've been a perfectly capable captain if I hadn't come along.”
“You defended me.” Lettie rolled her eyes. “Am I supposed to thank you now?”
“No. But you can stop hating me,” Julian suggested. “I'm deeply sorry for taking your ship. I thought you were hostile.”
“If you're truly sorry, you can give me back my airship, and maybe I'll stop hating you.”
Julian chuckled at the thought. “My dear... that's not going to happen.”
“Then I'm going to keep hating you, if that's alright.”
“It's alright.” As he rose to his feet, Julian finished off his lemonade and handed the empty cup to Jared, who slipped away before the captain could ask for anything else. “Hate me or not, you have to work. I'm going to make sure you stay on task.”
“Will you please button up your shirt?” Lettie asked. She pointed at the gaping garment, which was pushed open further by a tremendous gust of wind. “I have less than no desire to see your disgusting chest hair.”
Julian granted her request, grinning as he buttoned it. “You're a fascinating woman, Lettie. I think I'm going to like having you around. Now, will you accompany me to the kitchen? I think the chef c
ould use a helping hand.”
“You're making me work in the kitchen? Really?” Lettie's fist clenched. She could scarcely resist the temptation to bury it in his stomach. “Are you one of those men who thinks the kitchen is a woman's place?”
“Not at all. The chef is short-handed right now. You'll go where you're needed. If the man who cleans the chamber pots was in need of a helper, I'd be sending you to him... but he's not. Luckily for you.”
As they headed in the direction of the kitchen, Jolly stayed at his captain's side. “Do you want me to come with you?” the first mate asked.
“No, Jolly, you're excused. I can handle her.” So his first mate wouldn't worry, Julian lifted his shirt and showed him the pistol that was holstered at his hip. Lettie saw it too, and she briefly thought about swiping it, but the risk was too great. She didn't want to test the captain's patience.
They reached the kitchen, where a solitary chef was working tirelessly to prepare a meal for many. So much sweat was streaming down the chef's face, he looked like he'd recently submerged his head in a bucket of water. When Lettie saw him swipe his fingers across his dripping nose, her appetite was lost for the foreseeable future.
“Raymond!” Julian jovially clapped the chef's shoulder. “Look. I've brought you an assistant. This is Lettie. Feel free to put her to work.”
The chef was a short, stocky man with a wide, moon-shaped jaw. As soon as he saw Lettie, his small, dark eyes were narrowed mistrustfully. Without a word of greeting, he lifted a sack of potatoes and shoved them into Lettie's hands. “Peel these,” he gruffly commanded.
“This is so demeaning,” Lettie complained as the captain handed her a potato peeler. “I was a captain yesterday... and now I'm a chef's assistant? Do you have any idea how insulting that is?”
“People need to eat, love,” Julian said. “At the end of the day, there's no job more important than this one.”
“If it's so important, why don't you help out?” Lettie waved the potato peeler under Julian's nose. “I bet you couldn't handle it.”
“Oh, I could handle it. I just don't feel like doing it.”
“You couldn't do it,” Lettie insisted. She pulled a potato from the sack and started removing its skin. “You wouldn't know the first thing about peeling a potato.”
“Of course I would!”
“No. You wouldn't.” She flicked a potato skin at him. “If you can, prove it.”
“If you're trying to manipulate me into working, you won't succeed. Need I remind you that I'm the captain of this ship? If my men saw me peeling potatoes, I would never--”
Raymond suddenly tossed a potato peeler at Julian, who barely caught it. When the potato peeler was in his hand, Lettie's challenge was harder to reject. He plucked a potato from the sack and delicately trimmed away its skin. Lettie started doing it faster than him, so Julian picked up his pace. He refused to believe she was better than him.
As the potato peeling race commenced, Raymond was the only one with a smile on his face.
Eleven
“So... Nico!” Vee coiled an arm around the prince's shoulders as she steered him through the plush curtains. In the rooms beyond the curtain, The Velvet Dame's seedier business was conducted. “I have a surprise for you... but I guess it's not really a surprise since I already told you I was going to do it.”
“Oh no.” Nico was already groaning and blushing. “I don't know if I'm really interested in, uh... that.”
“Come on. Don't be a baby. You need this.” Vee gave him an encouraging slap on the back. “You've been abducted, your life's been taken over, you lost a finger and you're here against your will. I think you need to work off some steam, boy.”
While his burdens were indisputable, Nico wasn't convinced. He preferred to think of himself as a decent young man with impeccable morals. He couldn't imagine throwing that away for the sake of one night's pleasure. “I... don't know.”
Frances, Vee's lover, emerged from another curtain. She took a drag from an opium pipe before handing it to Vee, who pulled her into a kiss. Nico averted his gaze as the two women pawed at each other. Finally, when their moment of passion subsided, Frances had a few things to explain to the prince. “I'll present you with five options, but you only get to choose one. If none of them are suitable, let me know, and I'll present you with five more options... for a small fee.”
“A small fee that I'll end up paying,” Vee pointed out. “So you better not be picky, Prince.”
“First, we have Sandra.” As soon as Frances called out the first girl's name, the curtain opened, and a young brunette gracefully flitted out. She was wearing a tiny silver skirt and matching brassiere, and she blew a kiss at Nico. “She's up for anything, really... except she doesn't like her arse to be touched.”
“I'll, uh... I'll try to remember that,” Nico said, turning a deeper shade of red.
“And then we have Hope,” Frances announced the second girl, who looked disturbingly young. Her heart-shaped face, dimpled smile and wide blue eyes made her look like a child. “Hope hopes to show you a night of pleasure, I'm sure.”
Nico had to express his concern. “She looks twelve.”
“Doesn't she? Her child-like face gets her a lot of attention, but she's eighteen, I swear,” Frances claimed. “But some of the men like to pretend she's younger than that, so I usually keep that knowledge to myself.”
Nico crossed his arms and groaned.
“Next, we have Allana. She's very good with her tongue.” When she saw Vee baring her teeth, Frances quickly added, “Or so I've been told.”
The third girl, a buxom ginger, exploded from the curtain, curtsied and waved at Nico. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and moistened her lips, as if to entice him.
“This is quite a nice selection so far,” Vee commended the merchandise. “If I wasn't madly in love with you, Frances, I'd be all over any of them.” She gently jabbed Nico's stomach. “You're a lucky man, Prince.”
“Uhhh...” Nico moaned. He didn't feel especially lucky. In fact, he felt ill. He didn't think the situation could get more awkward, until Frances continued.
“I believe you already know Mae.”
When Mary Melissa Mae came through the curtain, her hair was tied back in a sloppy braid. Had she not been introduced, Nico might not have recognized her. Copious amounts of makeup had been piled onto her face, especially her eyes. Her lips were cherry red, and her cheeks were the color of peaches. She was wearing a blue silk robe, which she tightened upon entering. Though she smiled at him, Nico thought her eyes looked sad.
“And lastly, if you want something a bit more... atypical...” Before Frances' introduction ended, the curtain opened again, and a man stepped out. He was tall, broad, dark and muscled—and he was wearing a lady's gown. His hair was immense and curly, his eyebrows were meticulously plucked, and his lips were full and glistening. “This is Malachai. He's Vee's cousin, so if you choose him, you better treat him nicely!”
Malachai waved flirtatiously. “Hi, handsome!” he shrilled.
“Um... hi.” Nico could hardly breathe. Everyone was watching him with expectation in their eyes, but he didn't know what to say.
“Now you have to choose, of course,” Frances prodded him. “Sandra, Hope, Allana, Mae and Malachai. I know it's difficult to make a choice, especially with this fantastic bunch... but no matter who you choose, you won't be disappointed. I can promise you that, at least.”
Vee handed the opium pipe to Nico, who politely refused as he passed it back to Frances. If she could see him now, what would his sister think of him? What would his dear, departed mother think? Nico should have put his foot down and refused to choose a lover, but he didn't.
And his answer came too easily. “I choose Mae.”
“Excellent choice,” Frances commended him as Mae stepped forward. “You be sure to show him a good time, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I will!” Mae was grinning as she took his hand. Before Nico could say a word, his chose
n lady dragged him away. After passing through the curtain, she led him to an excessively creaky staircase. “I'm flattered you chose me,” Mae told him. “I thought you'd choose Allana, honestly. She's so beautiful.”
“You're so beautiful.”
Nico's compliment made her coo. “Aww! That's so sweet, Nico! Do you really mean that?”
“I do.” He wanted to tell her she was way too beautiful to be stuck in such a place, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Nico turned and followed her down a hall. Beneath his chest, his heart pumped wildly. On the way to their destination, they could hear someone screaming in ecstasy behind one of the hallway's many locked doors. Nico looked shocked—but of course, Mae didn't seem to notice anything unusual.
Mae suddenly shoved him into a bedroom and locked the door behind her. She threw off the blue robe, revealing the red silk negligee beneath it. She pressed her palms against his chest, gently pushing him in the direction of the bed. “It's been a long time since I've been this excited about a client.” Before they reached the bed, she stroked his cheek and licked her lips. “You're so adorable.”
“I, uh... I... uhh...” While Nico's eyes were fixed on her heaping cleavage, his words were lost. He had to close his eyes to complete his thought. “I'm not sure about this, Mae. I like you. I don't want to make you--”
Mae shoved him onto the bed and leapt on top of him. “Are you really a prince?”
She asked the question while straddling him, so it took him a moment to answer. “I am.”
“You're really really a prince?” She jabbed his chest with a finger. “Don't lie to me, Nico!”
“I'm really really a prince.”
Mae's hands were covered by lacy red gloves. Using only her teeth, she tugged them off and tossed them aside. “You're a prince, you're gorgeous, and you're sweet. I'm really going to enjoy this moment.”
When her lips found his, Nico moaned. She kissed him again and again, feverishly, as if she had been craving his kisses for ages. As soon as he felt her pulling off his shirt, Nico sat up.
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