“Oh, nothing important. Just about kittens and dogs, anchoring and harbors,” she replied smoothly. “Oh! And her going home and never seeing you again.”
Brendan spun, his heart beating from his chest.
“What do you mean? What did you tell her, Rose?”
He didn’t wait for her to answer. He pushed away from the rail and raced toward his cabin, completely jumping the steps in his hurry to get to Rio, to ask her what she meant, to make her change her mind.
Goddammit! She cannot leave me!
Without knocking, he burst through his own cabin door, stopping short at the sight that greeted him.
He nearly collapsed to his knees in awe.
Rio, his perfect Rio, the Rio who looked delectable in breeches and linen shirts, was wearing a dress.
“My God, Rio…” He lost the ability to speak when a sly smile slowly spread over her glowing features.
“Hello, la Bete.”
He was there, and the look on his face told her what she needed to know. He liked what he saw. The large man filled the doorway, his body taut, his expression hard, his eyes blazing. He was wearing black leather breeches and a white shirt open enough to show her glorious expanses of muscular chest. Her nipples hardened in response, her body remembering what it felt like to have his chest pressed against hers, sliding over hers as he thrust into her.
“Rio,” he growled, striding into the room and swinging the door shut behind him. It wasn’t until she heard the lock click into place that her moment of silent stupor was shattered.
“Brendan,” she rasped, her throat closing up on the word. When had it become so warm and heavy in the cabin? She tried to swallow, refocusing her thoughts to what needed to be said. What she needed to say to him. “We need to talk.”
“Talk? Aye, we need to talk,” he replied, his voice growing deeper until she could feel the vibrations through the boards at her feet. “What the hell does Rose mean when she says you will never see me again?”
Rio smothered a surprised gasp, grunting instead. “Why do you seem upset by that? It is not I that is planning to sail to Calais and get rid of me the first chance he can.” She hadn’t meant to let it all spill out like that, but it was too late now. Now she was in for a fight.
Utterly.
Brendan snarled, but Rio knew enough to realize that it wasn’t her he was angry at. The Beast was making his displeasure known, the only way he knew how.
“She told you that?” he snapped, raising his face to the ceiling, no doubt aiming his vitriol at his well-meaning if a lot peculiar cousin. “I am going to kill her.”
“Don’t you dare harm her. She only reported what she knew, and that was that we are sailing to Calais, and that you plan to take me home.”
Brendan swore and, in a flash, was standing before her, cupping her face in his hands.
“Aye, I plan to take you home—”
Rage flooded her, quickly followed by bitter humiliation, and she attempted to pull away.
“—but not to leave you there,” he finished, holding fast. He leaned in until Rio could look neither left nor right without meeting his gaze. “We are sailing to Calais so that we can make good on your promise to your brothers.”
Numbness made his words flutter around in her mind before they finally settled in coherent lines.
“The promise to return and take them off the streets?” she asked, confused. What could he mean? She daren’t hope…
Brendan dropped his face, kissing her forehead with a touch so soft, so gentle, she nearly cried.
“Aye, that promise. I wanted to take you and your brothers back with me, to Port Eynon Bay. To my home. With me.”
“You are not dismissing me from your service? You mean to honor our agreement, even though I have yet to serve even a full month on your crew?”
At her words, his careful expression faltered. A sliver of desperation made his green eyes sharpen before the emotion disappeared.
She asked again. “Do you mean to honor our agreement?”
He dragged in a breath so deeply, Rio could feel the air move past her head.
“Nay,” he answered, the single word a brutal slash to her stupidly hopeful heart.
Non, she could not believe him! Even the blind could see that he was attracted to her, that he felt—at least physically, for her. He couldn’t mean to dismiss her.
“You will not honor our agreement?” she asked, keeping her tone as light as she could despite the heaviness in her chest.
“I cannot honor our agreement as it stands, no,” he replied, his gaze roving over her features. “I do not want you as my cabin boy for a year. I want you as my woman for the rest of my life.”
A giddy laugh bubbled out of her before she could temper it with good sense.
Hang good sense! He says he wants me to be his woman! Her! The bedraggled street urchin who’d lived as a boy for more years than she lived as a girl. Her, the one who’d stolen his satchel and ended up with a stolen heart.
A sly smile playing at her lips. “Your woman?”
He smiled in return, though his was so wicked and heart-stoppingly sensual, her body came to life. In flames.
“Aye. My woman,” he growled, making that place between her thighs throb.
Shuddering against him, she slid her arms around his neck as he pulled her against his hard chest, the thickness of him pressing and throbbing against her belly.
“And what would a Beast know about pleasuring his woman?” she purred, her breasts aching. Heavens, she knew she was playing with fire, but she had never wanted to burn as much as she did now.
His wicked smile slowly turned feral.
“Your Beast knows his greatest pleasure will be spending the rest of his days finding out what makes his Beauty happy.”
Sighing deliriously, she melted into him, his kiss stealing from her all that she held dear. Replacing it with all that she could ever want.
Breaking their kiss, she murmured, “You make me happy.” When he leaned in to devour her again, she held a finger to his lips. She needed to say this, to give over that last part of herself that she never thought anyone would ever find.
“I love you, la Bete,” she declared, her heart in her throat.
His eyes turned black, his immense body trembling. “I would let you steal a million satchels if only to hear those words always.”
“It only took one,” she remarked, teasing him. He kissed her again, his mouth caressing hers with gentle nips and flutters, as though he were having a tasting rather than the meal.
This time, he broke the kiss. “I love you, Whelp. You did not just steal my satchel, you stole my heart. And unlike that damned satchel, I never want you to give my heart back. Keep it. It is yours.”
She laughed, her heart lighter than it had ever been.
“A skilled pickpocket never gives back her best loot.”
Brendan pinned her with a look that made her insides catch fire.
“And neither does a smuggler.”
Her first sight of Port Eynon Bay was underwhelming, it looked like any other port town along the coast. But once she entered their secret sea cave through the hidden sea entrance, she was spellbound.
“Welcome to Dwyn Twll!” Brendan declared, grinning brightly. The pride in his eyes made her heart jump.
“What is this place?” she asked, unable to hide the awe in her voice.
Behind her, Etienne and Remick began speaking to each other excitedly in French, which made Brendan smile at the boys lopsidedly. “They will need to learn some English—”
“Welsh!” an incredibly handsome golden-haired man called from the docks, just as the small skiff pulled up alongside the tie off. “The best smugglers speak Welsh.”
Rio laughed mockingly. “These boys will not be smugglers—they will be proper thieves, not the kind that have to hide in caves.” As she spoke, her gaze was still taking in the features in the enormous expanse of the cave in which she was standing. The ceili
ng was maybe a hundred feet high, high enough that there were at least two two-story buildings built on the floor of the cave. Those buildings, from what she could tell from the docks, were teeming with people.
Bruiser grumbled behind her—ever the wary pessimist.
“What is the lad scowling about?” the man on the docks asked, his familiar sea green eyes taking in the rag-tag group in the skiff.
“He is upset that he is to make his home in a place he cannot even pronounce,” Rio informed him, smiling apologetically.
The man threw his head back and laughed, the sound didn’t carry all that far.
Brendan laughed as well. “Dwyn Twll. In Welsh, it loosely translates to: the hole we stole.”
She snickered, the humor of the name not lost on her. “A family of smugglers named their hideout, ‘the hole we stole’?” When both the man on the docks and Brendan blushed, Rio couldn’t help but give them a wink. “Clever.”
The man on the docks blinded her with his smirk. “It is. About as clever as I am.”
Brendan snorted. “One thing you will learn about Lucian is that he has more arrogance than wit.” Brendan tossed the rope to Lucian and Lucian caught it easily before glaring at Brendan.
“The same could be said for you, Beast of Blades, Slayer of Men and Layer of Women—”
Brendan had the man by his collar in a blink, snarling down at him, but Lucian seemed far more delighted than fearful.
“Ah, I missed you, Cefnder.” Lucian turned to her. “That means ‘cousin’, an important word your boys will want to learn, now that they have many.”
Struck by Lucian’s open expression and heartfelt words, Rio’s eyes prickled with tears.
Brendan met her at the side of the skiff, having left Lucian to finish tying off the boat to the dock. Helping her up and onto the dock, Brendan gathered her into his arms, kissing the tears from her cheeks.
“Welcome home, Rio.”
THE END
About the Author
Rosamund Winchester is a determined and overwhelmed mother of four children. If she didn’t have writing to focus on, she’d spend all day staring into space and pondering the mysteries of the universe.
Rosamund writes emotional, thrilling, heart-pounding historical romance that draws the reader into the adventure, the passion, and the happily ever after. Rosamund also writes sweet historical romance as Lynn Winchester, so she offers books for all romance lovers.
When Rosamund isn’t writing sexy historical romance, or sweet historical romance as Lynn Winchester, she is reading whatever she is in the mood for, or watching crime shows on Discovery ID.
Visit Rosamund at her website or her social media pages.
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Also by Rosamund Winchester
The Blood and the Bloom
From Rosamund’s Alter-Ego, Lynn Winchester
The Dry Bayou Brides Series
The Brides of Blessings Series
The Dry Bayou Legacy Series
Bethel’s Garden Series
The Beast of Blades: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (The Ravishing Rees Book 3) Page 13