A Pirate's Curse (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix)

by ML Guida

  He picked out a small cutlass. “I think this is a good size. Let me sharpen it for you.” He took out a dagger secured in his belt and slid it up and down on the cutlass.

  She frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “Sharpening the blade.”

  He licked his lips, those same ones, she wanted on her body. She lowered her gaze, afraid if he kissed her one more time, her lesson would be forgotten. Or at least the one learning to fight. Instead, she may learn the other lesson. Kane had promised to teach her—she panted at the shameful image in her mind, heat rushing over her cheeks.

  He grabbed her hand. “Com’ on, let’s get out of here before I do something stupid.”

  She swallowed back a retort. What if she made a fool of herself? Would Kane be disappointed in her?

  Men mopped and cleaned the deck. Some of them laughed and she hoped they weren’t jeering at her. Kane glared and they returned to their duties. William leaned against the mast with his arms folded over his chest. “You’re going to get her killed Kane.”

  “I have faith in her,” Kane countered.

  Hannah smiled and wanted to throw her arms around him, hugging him. This big rough pirate believed in her. Her feelings for him grew stronger.

  William shook his head. “I had faith in Sharon.” He dropped his arms and left.

  “What happened to Sharon?”

  He pulled out his sword. “Now take out your cutlass.”

  She frowned. Avoiding questions again. She decided not to push her luck and unsheathed her cutlass. “I’m ready.”

  Kane grinned. He pulled out his sword, a dashing pirate, with the wind blowing his hair and his shirt unbuttoned revealing his smooth chest. She pulled her gaze away and met his eyes, glimmering with passion. He clasped her wrist and pulled her along his side. “I want you to stand here, sideways from me. Turn your body toward me.” He leaned over and kissed her lips.

  “Kane.”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He grinned.

  She glanced over her shoulder and his men eyed them curiously, others were speaking quietly.

  “Hannah,” Kane said. “You need to pay attention.”

  She frowned. “You need to pay attention to teaching me.”

  He winked and kissed her on the cheek.

  Her cheeks heated and he laughed. Cocking his eyebrow, William leaned against the railing. Were these two brothers still at war?

  “Hannah, stand slightly to the side of your target. Now hold your cutlass like this.” Wrapping his hands around hers, he molded her fingers around the base of the sword. His grip was firm, but gentle. “You should hold it firmly but not so tight you can’t maneuver. That’s right. Your footwork is most important in sword fighting.” He stood with his feet firmly planted apart. “First, place your feet shoulder width apart.”

  “Now, you put your leading foot forward. Your leading foot is the one you put under your cutlass. Make sure your weight is evenly distributed. Bend your knees and keep your balance. Grand. Now with your weight evenly distributed, you can use your leg muscles to generate bursts of rapid speed and change directions with ease. The goal’s to control your adversary’s blade by cutting, thrusting or striking. ’Tis better to be on the offensive rather than on the defensive. Give no quarter.”

  William snorted. Kane glanced over his shoulder. Hannah glared at William, shaking his head.

  Kane returned to her. “Don’t pay attention to him. To cut your adversary’s sword, you make a chopping motion with the blade.” Kane moved his sword down hers until he reached the hilt. “Now, you do it to mine.”

  Hannah followed Kane’s instructions from fancy footwork to defensive and offensive moves. She imitated him and met his every maneuver.

  “Grand. Now, let’s engage slowly. En garde,” Kane said.

  They hit each other’s sword slowly. Kane would call out for her to cut his sword, strike, lunge, and thrust her sword. Sweat poured down her face, but she met him hit for hit. Her hand smarted from holding the cutlass, but she refused to give up. She wanted to prove she could wield a sword.

  For the next few hours, Kane showed her more footwork. Her fingers grew stiff and her arm ached. The hot sun beat down on her and perspiration dripped down her back.

  Kane lowered his sword. “I think ’tis time for us to take a break, love.”

  Her stomach growled. She sheathed her cutlass and rubbed her arm as he led her to the galley. The galley cooled her hot skin and she downed three glasses of water. She gobbled down cold meats, a banana and a piece of crusty bread.

  “You done well, love,” Kane rubbed her thigh.

  “Thank you.”

  Kane and Hannah took their time in finishing their meal. The rest of the crew wandered around them. Some murmured praise at her progress on learning how to use the cutlass. She had to admit she was pleased with herself.

  William ate his lunch in silence. He rolled his eyes whenever someone complimented her. She bristled at his insolent behavior. “Some men are not intimidated by a woman who can take care of herself.”

  “Hannah,” Kane growled.

  She tilted her chin. “Well, you’re not.”

  William glared. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “No I’m not,” she insisted.

  “William,” Kane warned.

  William pushed away from the table and stormed out of the galley. Kane spun his mug around in a circle. Sharon again. There was a moment of silence before the men began talking again. After lunch, Hannah resumed her lesson. The afternoon sun hid behind a bank of clouds, and her sweat cooled. She wiped her forehead with her palm and sighed.

  “Do you want to quit, lass?” Kane asked.

  “No, let’s keep going,” she said. For the reminder of the day, she followed Kane’s every command, ignoring her screaming muscles.

  The sun set and pink and orange clouds dipped into the ocean. Kane shielded his sword. “You’ve done grand, lass. ’Tis time for dinner. You can practice your cutlass tomorrow.”

  Her stiff muscles made her feel as if she were sixty years old, but she smiled. “Thank you, Kane.”

  When they entered the galley, the crew clapped. Heat warmed her cheeks.

  Cook left a feast of cheese wheels, fried dog-fish, coconut rice, plantains and ship’s biscuit. She sat at the table, cut a piece of cheese and put it on the biscuit. The cheese and biscuit whet her appetite. She piled fried fish, coconut rice and two plantains on her plate. After cleaning her plate, she gulped down two tankards of grog.

  “Hungry, were you lass?” William teased. “I’ve never seen a woman devour so much food.”

  She frowned.

  He laughed. “I’m just kidding, Hannah. Would you like to take a stroll on deck with me? Kane, do you mind?”

  Kane shrugged. “’Tis up to her.”

  She looked between them. “That will be fine.” What was she? The prize between two warriors?

  William stood and offered his hand. She glanced at Kane. He gave her a curt nod, poured some rum into his glass and turned away from her. He talked in a low voice to Amadi, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She ran her hand down his back as she left the galley and smiled as he shivered beneath her touch.

  William led her up the stairs to the main deck. The stars had replaced the sun. There was a waxing moon tonight. Lucky for Kane and his men. Only a full moon brought out Zuto’s curse. At least, Kane would remain a man.

  They walked in silence. William stopped and leaned against the mast. “So, lassie, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  “About?”

  “About this morning. I didn’t mean for you to think I didn’t approve of your…” he hesitated. “…ability or you learning to fight.”

  She gazed over the portside at the rushing water, splashing onto the side of the ship.

  He gripped her shoulders and turned her around. “I don’t want you to be in danger, Hannah. You need to be far away from the Fiery Damsel.”

/>   “You’re thinking of Sharon?”

  His eyes clouded. “Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous. I don’t want you to die.”

  He avoided her question, but she didn’t press him. “I promise I’ll be safe.” She tilted her chin. “You don’t think I should be with Kane.”

  “Aye.” He lifted her chin, his thumb caressing her skin. “Kane can’t offer you much of life, Hannah. Not until the curse is lifted.”

  She stepped away, his hands dropped. “I know, William, but I’ve made my choice.”

  He hung his head. “You never even gave me a chance.”

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong, William.” She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “I do have feelings for you as a friend. I’m sorry.”

  Hurt filled his eyes. “Fine. Stay safe.” He pushed her hand down his arm, turned and left.

  She stopped. What was she saying? What did she feel for Kane? Just admit it. She was in love with a vampire pirate.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hannah returned to Kane’s cabin and sat on the bed. Every muscle ached and she wanted a bath, but she didn’t even know if she could summon the strength to ask for one. Kane opened the cabin door. “What happened with you and William?”

  She jumped. “Nothing, why?”

  He slammed the door. “Well, he grabbed a bottle of rum and he’s sitting down at the stern getting stinkin’ drunk.”

  She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Kane. He just does not want me to end up like Sharon.”

  “And?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck. “Kane, I don’t want to argue.”

  He crossed his arms. “Then tell me.”

  Why did everything have to be a battle with him? “Telling you means that we’ll argue. I’m tired of arguing.”

  “I promise you that I won’t argue with you.”

  “That grim expression on your face says otherwise.”

  “What did William say?” he prodded, but softened his voice and relaxed the scowl.

  “Fine.” She sighed. “I’ll tell you, but that is the end of the discussion. Promise?”

  Kane nodded.

  “He told me I should not be with you. Happy.”

  “He did what?”

  She regretted her shrewish tone. “I’m just tired.” She patted the bed. “Come over here before you do something feckless. I told him I wanted to be with you. Curse or no curse.”

  His glower slowly disappeared, replaced by a grin. “You did?”

  She pushed away a lock of his hair from his face. “Yes, I did.”

  “So, is that why he’s getting drunk?”

  She grimaced as a knot crippled her hand. “I guess.” She rubbed her hand.

  He glanced at her hand. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

  She shook her hand, trying to loosen the knots. “Oh, ’tis just sore from today.”

  “Lie down on the bed.”

  He gave her a disconcerting smile. Too tired to care, she did as she was told. “Why? What are you going to do?”

  “Take your clothes off, and get under the covers. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The door shut softly. Her face heated at removing her clothes. She yanked off her boots and tossed them to the floor. Disregarding his order, she crawled under the covers. Soreness gripped her and she wanted to sleep. The blankets smelled of Kane. She clutched his pillow inhaled his scent, drifting to sleep. The door opened and her eyes fluttered open. Kane carried a tray with jars and bottles. She yawned, “What’s that for?”

  He placed the tray on his desk, opened a bottle and a soft sweet aroma of jasmine filled the cabin. “You’ll see.” He frowned. “I told you to get undressed.”

  “I was cold.”

  “Ah, ah.” He walked over to the bed.

  Hannah clutched the blankets tighter. “Kane.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “But this can’t be done with you fully clothed.”

  “What can’t be done?”

  He grabbed the quilt and leaned over, his hair brushing against her skin. “Hannah, let go.”

  She trembled. “What are you going to do?”

  “Trust me. I promise I won’t hurt you. Every man aboard this ship has indulged in this pleasure after a hard day of practicing with the sword.”

  “Every man?”

  “Yes.” Curiosity got the best of her and biting her lip, her fingers released the blanket.

  “Roll over.”

  She did, too tired to fight him. He held her gaze as he slowly undid her breeches and pulled them off her legs. His fingers sent chills down her spine. He moved up her body and undid her buttons on her shirt. He kissed her stealing her breath as his hands maneuvered her arms out of the shirt. Groaning, he muttered, “You better remove your chemise or I’m likely to rip it in half.”

  He got off the bed and hurried over to the desk. Disappointment filled Hannah as she removed her chemise. His kiss had her forgetting her sore muscles and his masculine taste teased her. She wanted more, but she sighed and covered herself with the blankets.

  “Roll onto your stomach.” He poured oil into his hands and rubbed his hands. His wicked look turned her core to a smoldering liquid. “Lay still.”

  She clutched the pillow tighter, every muscle winding into a tight knot, as he sauntered over to the bed. Any minute her muscles would snap like a whip. He climbed on top of the bed. “Relax.”

  She tried to relax, but when he pulled down the covers, his knuckles brushed against her skin. He straddled her naked buttock and she nearly jumped five feet. “Kane, what are you doing?”

  He gently pushed her down. Leaning over her, his hair caressed her naked back, sending chills to every tired muscle. “Trust me,” he whispered in a husky voice.

  He caressed her shoulders, working the sweet oil into her shoulder and the crook of her neck. His hands glided down to her slender back, pressing against the knots and tightness, stroking, kneading, manipulating each ridge of her spine, releasing the adjoining tension. She moaned as he worked the massage deeper into her body. She was a slave to his magical touch, wanting more, much more.

  Kane edged further down her body, sitting on her calves. His fingers slid down her thighs, moved up her buttock and pressed on her lower back. She groaned and clutched the pillow.

  Oil spattered on her back and she jolted. “What are you doing?”

  “Slowly torturing you.” His firm hand nudged her back, and he cracked every stiff bone along her spine. With each snap, she surrendered to him, powerless to move. Where did he learn this?

  Traveling to her buttocks and moving up her spine, he pressed down onto her flesh, molding her into a piece of dough ready to shape into whatever he wanted. Every place he caressed her skin grew hotter. Her pounding heart thumped blood between her temples. She was in a sultry steaming bath.

  He glided his hands down past her thighs and calves. She quivered when his fingers skimmed over her. He changed his rhythm from lightly tapping to harder drumming. Her muscles grew slack under his sleek manipulations. When he worked his thumbs into the arches of her feet, she moaned like a dying woman and shifted on the bed.

  She jumped as he kissed her leg, the soft feathers of his hair caressing her flesh, sending tremors up her spine. She sighed as his palms drove deeper into her sore muscles. Serenity filled her every core. “Mmm, nice.”

  His fingers brushed over the scratch on her thigh. She winced. Pain gripped her.

  He stopped kissing her. “What’s wrong?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Nothing.” She avoided Kane’s penetrating eyes. The memory of Jacques’ sneer and long fingernails haunted her and she shuddered. He had been so violent, not caring about how she felt, determined to violate her, punish her, rape her.

  He frowned and rubbed her lower back. “You cried out. Did I hurt you?”

  “No, no.” She bit her lip and laid her head down on her pillow. She tried to block out the memories
of Jacques, but her thigh throbbed and she couldn’t push him out of her mind. She tensed. “H-h-he hurt me there, and it hurt when you touched me,” she murmured.

  He stopped rubbing her back, his hand pressed down. “Let me see it.”

  Her face burned hot. How could he ask that? She wanted to curl in a ball and crawl under the blanket. “No, it will heal in a couple of days.”

  His voice hardened. “Hannah, show me where D’Aubigne hurt you.”

  He grabbed her hips and turned her, but she gripped the blanket, refusing to be turned around. “No! Stop.”

  He lay down next to her. “You’ve a choice. You show me what he did, or I send Doc in here.”

  She turned her head. “No!”

  “Fine.” He sat up. “I’ll send for him.”

  She slipped further under the covers and wrapped the blanket around her neck. “Kane, no, you can’t do this!”

  He rubbed her back. “Hannah, I’ll know what he did to you, one way or another. ’Tis me, or Doc. Take your pick.”

  She buried her wet cheeks onto the pillow. “Please don’t do this to me.”

  He patted her back. “I’ll send in Doc.” He moved away from the bed and put his hand on the doorknob.

  She sobbed. “Kane, stop.” Her heart sank at his grim face. There was no mercy in his look.

  “Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll show you, you bastard.”

  He strode back to the bed and gently pulled the covers down, chilly air rushing over her. He gripped her shoulder and rolled her onto her back, showing him the bruises on her thighs and bite marks on her breast. She closed her eyes unable to look at him.

  “Bloody hell!”

  She opened her eyes and shrank. His furrowed eyebrows and tight line of his mouth chilled her blood. He stormed to his desk. She grabbed the blanket and covered herself, curling into a ball. Kane grabbed a jar and tore the lid off. The scent of sweat heather filled the room, easing her tight muscles.

  Kane sat back down. He pushed her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I should have stopped him.”