“Wolf?” It was time to live by her own rules. “Where is your brother holding mine?” she asked.
Wolf grinned. “If I tell you, you’ll go after him yourself.”
“Someone has to.” It was her turn to grin.
“I’ve been searching for my brother for years.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “Joanna—you know her as Jolie—knows I will chase any lead I find that will uncover my brother’s whereabouts. I’m not about to let this opportunity pass.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” A mischievous glint filled his eyes. “And it just so happens I’m in the market, as it were, for a good cabin boy.”
Her mouth twisted wryly. “Oh? I happen to know one.”
“My last cabin boy turned out to be a claw-cat. I have actually decided that I prefer her to an impressionable yearling.”
She placed her hand on Wolf’s chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her fingers as she locked her eyes with his. “You do?”
“You shine up real nice, but if I was to be truthful—”
“Always.” She placed her finger on his lips. “No lies must ever come between us, Wolf.”
“As I was saying, I prefer the naked Selina sitting in a barrel in my cabin to the prim-and-proper one I’ve watched walk on glass.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The heat of his kiss was a potent, dizzying current rushing through Selina. He broke away, leaving her breathless, hungry for more of him. “Are you ready to join me, no matter where I go, no matter where I lay my hat?”
She glanced up at the top of his head, realizing he wasn’t wearing his tricorn. “Do you have a hat?”
“Lost it.” He shrugged. “I’ll have to get a new one.”
Wolf picked her up and cradled her to his chest.
“Your shoulder,” she protested.
“It’s nothing now that you are safe.”
Selina wrapped her arms around Wolf’s neck and placed a kiss on his lips. Just the act of being in his arms again created a tidal surge of welcoming heat and excitement inside her. Her heart hammered in her ears. Heat throbbed in places she’d only ever wondered about when in Wolf’s presence. She’d never experienced this kind of rapture with a man. Could it be that she truly loved Wolf?
Her pulse quickened. Being next to him made her feel alive. And without a betrothal or a wedding, that was enough for now. Her heart swelled in her chest, and her lips throbbed for more of his touch.
“Take me with you,” she said, her throaty voice breaking. She had no desire to return to her old life. She needed Wolf. He needed her. Together, they could blaze a trail of discovery that would rock the very foundations of their childhoods, building bridges where none were previously found, replacing old memories with stronger, newer ones.
He captured her lips with his own again, more demanding than ever before, and then buried his face in her neck. “Selina.”
“Wolf,” she said, hating the excruciating, thrilling punishment he gave her every time he drew away or said her name. She quivered, craving his taste and his heat, desiring more than he was willing to give her at the moment. “Let’s find our brothers.”
“Haul up the main sails!”
“Taut that line!”
Sea dogs scurried about the deck. A long line of men hauling rope hand over fist tightened the braces as the Sea Wolf cut through the swells.
A south wind plowed up the Channel. Canvas thundered overhead, a sail luffing in the breeze as yard ropes, buntlines, and clew garnets allowed topmen on the halyard to lug sheets into place.
Crowle monkeyed to a lanyard, tightened the braces, and waved. “Heva!”
Selina, who was stationed at the topmast cap, waved back.
Wolf wrinkled his brow, marveling at the way she had instantly connected with his crew, all of whom admitted to her that they’d known she was a woman all along. Crowle had taken an immediate liking to her and began teaching her about the sails, rigging, tack, and braces. Ike and Hawk fought over who was the better tutor, tempting Wolf to throw the two men overboard. Keegan, the cook, put on airs, producing meals catered to Selina’s tastes. Even Cyrus and Mr. Savage whistled and joked with each other during their watches.
According to his men, Selina was one of them, and Wolf couldn’t agree more. She belonged on the Sea Wolf—and with him—and could stay as long as she wished, displacing the men’s superstitions that having a woman aboard was bad luck.
To prove his point, they hadn’t had a mishap since they’d left Portreath and rounded Land’s End. Was Selina their lucky charm? She had certainly invigorated him.
Open ocean spread before them now. The Bay of Biscay and Cadiz were a sennight away. Soon he and Selina would find the answers to all their questions. Word on the docks was that the Constrictor was last seen headed back to Cadiz. Once they found the Constrictor and Wolf’s brother, they would find Owen.
Wolf had chosen not to go to London. Wellington and the men in his employ were aware of the promises that had been made to Wolf. And Wellington’s spies and the Legion could handle whatever was happening in London. They didn’t need him, not yet, but Owen had no one.
He had promised he’d never lie to Selina. He meant to abide by that promise. He was a man of integrity, albeit highly temperamental when he was pushed to the breaking point. His men knew it. Selina knew it.
He lived by Captain Charve’s code of honor, but his brother, who Wolf had been told was Captain Kearney Falchion did not. What had happened in Kearney’s childhood after they’d parted ways in Bristol that had led his brother into darkness? Had it been that moment when he’d cut off his brother’s finger? He meant to find out. He was responsible for the fact that they’d been forced to run away from home. After Wolf had killed their father, Kearney had protected him. He deserved a chance.
Wolf adjusted his wrist guards and glanced at the woman who stood beside him. Her curly hair was tousled by the light breeze, the strands longer than they’d been when they’d first met. Selina’s skin glowed as if kissed by the sun, and she squinted, looking into the distance.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
No longer the niminy-piminy woman her father had tried to mold her into at Trethewey, Selina turned to Wolf and regarded him with bafflement. “Our future,” she said as if he was daft. She pointed east. “It’s there. Just beyond reach.”
He glanced at the southern horizon where Spain and Portugal waited—and another stash of figuerados could be bargained for—and then returned his gaze to Selina. He adored every inch of her. She’d come into his life like a storm, earning his compassion and cracking open the emotions he’d buried deep inside. Long ago, he’d decided that emotion weakened a man and put any woman that man loved in danger. It had always been the case with Wolf. But Selina made him want to love again. She’d shown him that strength was not determined by the body but by a man’s resolve to live.
“The future is not out there, Selina,” he said, basking in her beauty as they stood on the topmast cap together.
“It isn’t? I must be blind.” She gazed at him curiously. “Where is it, then?”
He pointed between them. “It starts here, with us.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes stared back at him in wonder. “You are learning, Wolf.” Her laughter was music to his ears. “I shall teach you things yet.”
“Come here,” he said, drawing her closer. Cloaked by the Sea Wolf’s crisp, whipping wings, Wolf wrapped his arm around Selina’s waist and pulled her toward him. Her body melded to his. “There are still quite a few things you don’t know about me.”
She smiled up at him. “Such as?”
“I’m heartless.”
She shook her head and laid her hand on his chest. “I will make sure your heart is always full.”
His heart took a perilous leap, beating foolishly in his chest. “I won’t give up my cigars.”
“And I won’t ask you to,” she said, amusement dancing in her eyes.
�
�I still don’t have a cabin boy,” he complained.
“That is true.” Selina glanced out to sea and then buried her head in Wolf’s neck. She nipped at his skin, teasing him with a flick of her tongue. “I will be whatever you want me to be, my love.”
His composure snapped, and an ache unlike any Wolf had ever experienced gripped him, his blood rushing to places it shouldn’t when high above the deck. Distractions weren’t wise.
“I will never tire of hearing you call me your love,” he admitted with a smile.
She leaned back, grinning up at him. “I will make sure of it.”
“How?” he asked. “You cannot make me love you more than I do now.”
“No?” Her brows rose a fraction. “Careful or I’ll be forced to prove you wrong.”
“You little claw-cat.” The very thought of Selina’s nails scoring his flesh filled him with desire and an eagerness for privacy. “I have a cabin.”
“And I am quite fond of it.” Selina placed a series of slow kisses on his lips. “My life began there.”
He cupped her face and kissed her brows, her nose, and then gazed into her eyes. “That is a memory I will never forget.”
Author’s Note
No matter how diligent an author is, historical inaccuracies fall through the cracks. The Heart of a Hero Series was inspired by comic book characters being placed in the Regency era under Arthur Wellesley, who became the Earl of Wellington after the Battle of Salamanca. The Mercenary Pirate includes the British, Portuguese, and Spanish troops that routed the French, defeating Marshal Marmont and the Army of Portugal. Wellington’s 48,600-strong army suffered 5,200 casualties and inflicted 14,000 casualties on Marmont’s army of 50,000 men.
One of Wellington’s spies Colquhoun Grant was captured after the Battle of Salamanca but managed to slip away. Colquhoun, Andrew Leigh-Hay, and Major Charles Edward Somers Cocks, son and heir of the second Earl of Somers, were the eyes and ears of Wellington’s army. Cocks perished after Salamanca at the Siege of Burgos, while commanding the trenches outside the Castile. Wellington lamented his loss saying, “I consider his loss as one of the greatest important to this army, and to this majesty’s service.”
Selina’s home, Trethewey, is modeled after Chavenage House, near Tetbury in the Cotswolds. The house known as Trenwith in the PBS Poldark Series has been in the Lowsley-Williams family since 1891.
Lord Francis Basset, the first Baron de Dunstanville and Basset of Stratton (one of my family surnames) was awarded these titles for famously commanding six hundred Cornish miners, marching them to Plymouth to strengthen defenses there during the Franco-Spanish wars and to fortify Portreath. The king also rewarded Basset with a baronet “of Tehidy, County Cornwall” on November 24, 1779. The Bassets were generous figures near Portreath and lived an extravagant lifestyle while dabbling in the mining industry.
Richard Trevithick was the son of a mining captain and a miner’s daughter. He was, and is, a revered figure in Portreath, Redruth, and Camborne for inventions such as high-pressure steam engines, water-power engine pumps, and Cornish boilers. He built a steam-powered road vehicle called the London Steam Carriage and developed plans for the Thames tunnel in 1805.
Carn Brea is a high granite ridge with 360-degree vistas over Redruth and Camborne, boasting rail links to Portreath harbor. Carn Brea overlooks the highest concentration of historic mining sites in the entire world.
Acknowledgments
The Mercenary Pirate, Book Ten in The Heart of a Hero Series was great fun to write, me hearties! During my research, I found interesting stories of smuggling/pirating, and in particular, mining in Cornwall. I enjoyed imagining a character like Wolverine as one of Wellington’s spies during the political upset that occurred during the Napoleonic Wars (1795-1815).
Research, however, is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to producing a book that offers hours of escape. My books, especially this comic book–inspired pirate adventure, wouldn’t have the magical element I strive to include without the help of my brainstorming partner, author M.V. Freeman. Thank you for your input and afternoon teas, my dear friend!
Special thanks to the other authors in this series, in particular Cora Lee, Alanna Lucas, Aileen Fish, Vanessa Riley, Jillian Chantal, Susan Gee Heino, Ally Broadfield, and Heather King for their encouragement and support.
Behind every good book is a FABulous crew. Kudos go out to my editors at Double Vision Editorial: Danielle Poiesz, Lorrie McCann, and Shannon Godwin. Their guidance, suggestions, and fabulous talent take my books to another level. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Go team!
Special thanks to the brilliant Elaina Lee at For the Muse Designs for creating the beautiful covers for The Heart of a Hero Series. Elaina’s artistry really brought Wolf and Selina to life! Huzzah and hoorah!
Raising a well-deserved signal flag to my Rogues, Rebels & Rakes Street Team! You’ve been sailing on this voyage with me from the beginning, and I appreciate your support so much! And my heart is full. Thank you, Nicole Laverdure, for helping me make sure that the French in this book est magnifique! Merci, Madame!!!
Lastly, I owe everything I am and achieve to God and my family, whose love and support enable me to do this writing thing and help my books become richer and more enjoyable for it.
To my family and to you, dear reader, thank you for sharing my passion for swashbuckling heroes of yesteryear!
Katherine
About the Author
National bestselling historical romance author Katherine Bone has been passionate about history since she had the opportunity to travel to various Army bases, castles, battlegrounds, and cathedrals as an Army brat turned officer’s wife. Who knew an Army wife’s passion for romance novels would lead to pirates? Certainly not her rogue, whose Alma Mater’s adage is “Go Army. Beat Navy!” Now enjoying the best of both worlds, Katherine lives with her hero in the south, where she writes about rogues, rebels, and rakes—aka pirates, lords, captains, duty, honor, and country—and the happily-ever-afters that every alpha male and damsel deserve.
Katherine’s FAN Mail:
[email protected]
Katherine on the web:
www.katherinebone.com
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Thank you for reading The Mercenary Pirate!
Dear Reader,
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Keep reading for a sneak peek at the first book of The Heart of a Hero Series, No Rest for the Wicked, featuring Joanna Pearson Devlin and Michael Devlin, the Demon of Dublin’s Hell.
When Michael’s estranged wife appears on his doorstep with a summons from Sir Arthur Wellesley, both Michael’s worlds are turned upside down. What will happen to the Liberties if he obeys Sir Arthur’s command to meet in Cork? Can he even trust the woman who married him five years ago and then promptly left him?
No Rest for the Wicked
The Heart of a Hero Series, Prequel novella, Book One
by
Cora Lee
Chapter One
Dublin, July 1808
Joanna Pearson stood in front of the door deep within the part of Dublin known as The Liberties, trying to decide what to say to the occupant of the room beyond it and to quell the strange feeling in her stomach. Her previous missions had been straightforward enough: locate the subject, relay the invitation from her employer, and make arrangements for the subject to travel securely on the appointed day.
But none of the other subjects had been her estranged husband.
It had been five years since she’d last laid eyes on him, sleeping peacefully in their bed. Light from the
rising sun had illuminated his dark hair and long lashes, giving him a faintly angelic appearance that contrasted starkly with the scars on his body. Her courage had nearly failed her then, and she’d had to stop herself from lying back down beside him. But a spy didn’t get to choose her missions, and Joanna had slipped quietly out of the door without looking back.
If only this door was as easy to negotiate as that one had been.
She could hear his voice inside, ringing with the refined English accent of the educated. There came several muffled responses, a flurry of movement, then the door flew open and a knot of children rushed out.
Joanna jumped out of the way, listening to them chatter among themselves as they made their way down the stairs. She peered around the doorframe and, seeing no further traffic, quietly entered the room.
Michael Devlin was bending over a small table paging through tattered books, his back to the door. But before she’d completed her first step inside the room he straightened.
“Joanna?”
He spoke without turning around—he’d always been good at detecting her presence—so she addressed the back of his white linen shirt in the soft Dublin brogue she’d been practicing. “Michael. It’s been a long time.”
He thumbed the topmost book closed. “If you’ve come looking for your husband, I’m afraid he might need some convincing to speak with you.”
“I expect he would—and I owe him that much, at the very least. But it isn’t my husband I need today.”
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