by Paula Quinn
“I appreciate ye both trying to protect me, but—”
“I’m simply keepin’ order on me ship,” Alex was quick to let her know. “I don’t want me men fightin’ over ya.”
She turned around to face him fully. He smiled at her, not giving a damn who saw or what they thought. “Pardon my initial assessment, Captain,” she said. “I hope ye dinna’ think me a foolish twit fer believing ye a man of honor.”
His smile widened while his skin grew tight around his bones. The slight arch of her brow and subtle flare of her nostrils made him ache to tame the hellcat lurking beneath her practiced smiles. But he didn’t want her tame for too long. He craved the fight she’d give him. He would never rape her. He simply wanted her surrender.
“I would not think ya a twit, Miss Grant. But why would ya ever think me a man of honor? If I gave ya that impression, I will do me best to correct it.”
His quick eyes noted her hands balled at her sides but she smiled as easily as if she just saw a school of dolphins when she spoke. “Dinna’ burden yerself with the needless task. I was being polite. I know what ye are.”
“Do ya, then?” he asked, amused, though he really wasn’t. A small part of him didn’t like that she thought she knew him. An even smaller part didn’t like the way she saw him. “Then ya know to expect little from me.”
He stepped around her and opened the door to his cabin. Why the hell did he just say that? Because he didn’t want to deceive her, though he was certain she was very masterfully deceiving him. She might be a thief or a spy but along with her fire she possessed an innocence the likes of which he’d never seen. Perhaps it was her huge blue eyes or the guileless curl of her dimpled smile that he thought innocent. He should be keeping his distance from her. But he found himself thinking of her after she’d left him at the helm, following her like a predator on the trail of its prey, but instead of devouring her, he attacked one of his own men…
That didn’t mean, when she moved past him through the door, that he didn’t want to kick out her cousin and devour her now.
He waited patiently for Kyle to enter and shut the door behind him. Alex was no good for her, not even for a night. He turned in time to watch her remove his hat. She winced and something inside him almost pulled him back to the deck to cut the ropes holding Jacques’s ankles.
“Take rest,” he told them both and crossed the room to a grand chest against the wall. He opened it and took out a jug of rum from Madagascar. “Robbie or Cooper will deliver our food soon. Hopefully, ’twill be free of bugs.” He winked at her and clapped Kyle on the back when the lad clutched his belly. “We may have to pierce yar other ear,” he said quietly, then, “Let’s share a drink while we wait on our supper.”
Caitrina let him pour the golden nectar into her cup but Kyle put his hand over it.
“None fer us, thank ye, Captain.”
“Why not, MacGregor?”
“Because I dinna’ want my cousin to be alone and drunk with ye while I try to prove my skill against yer first mate—and fail because I, too, am drunk. If that’s yer plan then I must confess I canna’ trust ye to be fair and honorable between yer men and me.” Kyle stared up at him from across the table, surveying him, watching his reaction. “I will have to remain defensive.”
Alex wanted to laugh… or clap the lad on the back a second time for showing such bravery in his honesty. Finally, he gave in and laughed, softly. Men of honor, eh? Honorable men could be trusted. He sealed the jug after pouring himself a cup, and put the rest back from whence it came. Who the hell raised these two to be so confident, and rash, and fearless?
“If I wanted ya rendered helpless from a spirit, I’d be offerin’ ya some of me special gunpowder rum.” He smiled when both his guests’ faces paled. “Tell me, MacGregor, should I be concerned fer Mr. Bonnet?” He sat between them at the small candlelit table. “How well do ya fight, Highlander?”
“Verra’ well, Captain. But this is only a show of skill to gain worth and trust among yer men. I dinna’ wish to harm Mr. Bonnet.”
The lad was a fool! Why would he give away his plan? Their plan? “Why do ya want to gain worth and trust among them, MacGregor?” So that when he stole the map, some of the crew might turn to his side?
“Because fer as long as I travel with ye, my sword is at yer service. ’Tis a good aid in battle.”
Hell, Alex almost believed him. His candor was as fresh and convincingly honest as his cousin’s. They were likable, these two. Dangerous, but likable. Alex downed his rum. “Have ya been to battle then?”
“Aye, my uncles and cousins made all their sons fight every day. My faither, ye met him in Camlochlin, Colin MacGregor?”
Alex nodded.
“He was once a general in King James’s army. He oversaw our mock battles, sometimes twenty lads on both sides. At first we practiced with wooden swords and then we moved on to metal. We all swung hard and with purpose, preparing for a day when true enemies came to Skye.”
Alex listened, understanding a little more about the place where Caitrina grew up, and the people who shaped her. “Who be yar true enemies?”
The lad shrugged his plaid-draped shoulders. “The English, and those who persecute us.”
“Aye.” Alex remembered the proscription. He would like to hear about it, but not now. Now he wanted to learn more about Caitrina.
“Did ya fight in these mock battles, too?” he asked her.
“When other duties allowed me time,” she told him. “We live in a peaceful vale in the midst of a cold, harsh world. I’ve never wanted to be helpless in it.”
He nodded, smiling at her because he understood and appreciated her spirit.
“But archery is my specialty,” she continued, emboldened by his smile. “Taught to me by my cousin, Will MacGregor, the most skilled archer in all of Skye, in all of Scotland, mayhap. And speaking of my skill, when may I have my bow and quiver returned to me?”
“When we get to France.”
He winked at her, ignoring her obvious ire, then returned his attention to MacGregor. “I will have a word with Mr. Bonnet before the competition to let him know ya don’t intend a fight to the death. If ya deceive me and he is harmed, I’ll have a blade through yar heart before ya finish him off.”
“Ye can trust me, Captain,” Kyle countered with a wry smile. “But if it is I who is betrayed, I will not go down as easily as ye think. I promise, I will take as many as I can with me to the hereafter.”
“Ya have balls,” Alex told him, wondering if the Highlander had ever considered a pirate’s life.
Robbie arrived with their food, which consisted mostly of overripe apples, dried figs, some dried fish, and water. No bugs.
“Food goes bad and grows scarce fast here, but we should have enough to get us to France,” Alex told them.
While they ate, Alex questioned them some more about their home life. They told him about Camlochlin’s history and how their grandfather Callum MacGregor had built his fortress after escaping Liam Campbell’s dungeon and the war he declared on the Campbells after that.
“And yet he wed a Campbell?” Alex asked while he ate. “She must be an exceptional woman.”
“She is,” both Trina and Kyle answered.
“She was raised on tales of honor and glory,” Kyle told him. “And she passed those ideals down to her grandchildren.”
Alex arched a brow and turned the smirk curling the edges of his mouth toward Caitrina. “Was it honor or glory that night we met on the beach that made ya suggest to yar cousins that they shoot me or set the dogs on me after I surrendered?”
When she set her full attention on him and smiled, he sat back in his seat to enjoy the view and ready his head for what she was about to bring him. Here was the thing that attracted him to her more than any other: that wide-eyed cherubic look changing into something far more threatening with a subtle tightening of her lips, a challenging spark in her eyes that promised a blazing fire if further passions were expos
ed.
He’d never wanted to kiss a woman more than he wanted to kiss her right now.
“’Twas honor, Captain,” she confessed with a hint of arrogance squaring her shoulders. “If ye knew anything aboot it, ye would understand that I was trying to protect my kin from an uninvited intruder. Ye would recognize what I did as loyalty, one of honor’s many codes. But since ye are a man who robs from others—”
“Plunders,” he corrected her. “I loot and pillage and plunder. Robbin’ is more civilized. A bit like boardin’ a ship to rob in secret and hopin’ to escape unscathed.”
Her smile cooled, proving she was trying to rile him and angry that she was failing. “There is nothing on this ship I want, Captain.”
“That will help me sleep tonight, Miss Grant.”
“Good. Now, as I was saying, since ye are a man who plunders, loots…”
She must have seen in his gaze his dark desire to do those things to her, for her words faded and a scarlet tinge crept across her cheeks.
She blinked her glorious eyes toward Kyle. Her cousin was busy eating and looking around the cabin and didn’t notice the silent exchange. He did, however, pick up the conversation between them.
“So, Trina,” Kyle teased, “ye did read a few of the books, then.”
“A few.”
“A few doesn’t make ya an authority, lass,” Alex pointed out to her.
“True.” She returned her attention to him, recovered. “But the little I know would take years to teach ye, pirate.”
“Neptune take me”—he laughed and rose from his seat when Sam entered the cabin—“if I ever find interest in learnin’ such useless values.”
“Cap’n?”
“Aye, Mr. Pierce?” Alex was reluctant to look away from her and miss the lightning shooting from her eyes.
She spoke about honor with some conviction, but judging from what he knew of her already, honor, with all its rigid codes—and he did know a few of them—had probably grown dull to her years ago. He doubted she cared one bit about propriety and custom.
Whatever she was doing on his ship, whether to rob him or to fulfill her sense of adventure, the fact remained that she had found a way to board in the middle of a loch. Once found, she never truly appeared overly frightened. And finally, the most telling thing of all that proved she wasn’t looking for a man of high moral standards was that knowing they were pirates, she’d asked him to let her stay with them beyond France.
She was a mystery to him. A mystery Alex wanted to try to figure out. He liked her but liking her was dangerous. “Mr. Bonnet is waitin’.”
Chapter Nine
Trina had watched Kyle practice and fight mock battles her whole life. But his opponent was never a pirate who wouldn’t hesitate to run him through and toss him to the sharks.
Mr. Bonnet fought well for a man with one eye. His vicious determination to inflict pain on Kyle made Trina close her eyes twice. But she didn’t think he would find victory against her cousin. The gold hoop in his ear seemed to help his seasickness, though she had no idea why it would. She worried about what the others would do when the pirate fell. The captain said he’d spoken to his first mate about not fighting to the death, but would Mr. Bonnet and the others obey?
“He parries and blocks well.”
She glanced up at the captain, standing beside her on deck, watching the contest. “He knows more than defense,” she countered, catching his meaning while his mate drove her cousin back. “Look. See how cleanly he jabs? Ye can almost see the air being sliced apart.”
The captain agreed, folding his arms across his chest. “Yar cousin deserves respect fer his fine precision with a blade, but his arm grows tired from wieldin’ a heavy claymore.”
She shook her head and crooked her mouth at him. He took enjoyment in trying to irk her. He was good at it, but she was learning to control the constant challenge and anger he sparked in her. “The weight of his blade strengthened his arm over the years. If ye pay closer attention to yer man, ye will see his gaping mouth, his puffing chest, the slower reflex to a blow. I fear if ye dinna’ call an end to this soon, Kyle will take Mr. Bonnet to his knees.”
The captain smiled and her lungs quit working. “Ya’re sure about that?”
“I am.”
She was stunned when he called an end to the contest, declaring it a draw. The crew booed and complained but Mr. Pierce reminded them that it was against the articles to hold contest aboard ship. They had allowed it because a guest and a stranger issued the challenge. If any had issue with the results they could take watch for the next five nights. None did.
With the contest over and feelings spared on both sides, the crew opened kegs of rum and sang songs to the setting sun in the western sky. Even Jacques was released and set on his feet to live another day. Trina watched while Kyle accepted a cup from Mr. Bonnet and they toasted in celebration of each other’s skill. She felt a bit queasy and refused to drink, determined not to spend a moment hanging over the side of the ship. This was what she wanted, what she’d ached for for years. To sail across the ocean, to feel the sea spray in her hair, to breathe in the briny fragrance of a world unknown to her. To sail upon a ship beneath a full moon and the heavens bathed in stars. She longed for adventure and excitement. She wouldn’t spend her time aboard the ship, too sick to enjoy it.
With that thought settled in her mind, her eyes found the captain across the lantern-lit deck, reclining on the stairs alongside his cabin, laughing with a group of his mates. He looked ridiculously sexy just sitting there with a cup clutched in his hand and one knee bent on the step below. She was tempted to go to him by the traitorous skip of her heart, compelled by nothing more than the eruption of his thick laughter and the sight of him beneath the stars. She should go over there and give him back his hat since the sun had set and its heat was no longer painful. But he looked so sinfully appealing in his bandanna, with his shoulder-length sun-streaked hair pushed away from his face and his golden loops dangling from his ears. She guessed countless other women thought the same thing when they saw him.
She knew of the desires of men and what woman did to please them, not from fulfilling any of them, but from banter spread around the table at Camlochlin, mostly about her brother Malcolm and some of her cousins. There were brothels and taverns, and even some stately halls where women flung themselves at virile men, tossing virtue to the four winds. Trina didn’t judge them, but she certainly wasn’t one of them.
The captain’s piercing dark eyes caught and held her gaze across the deck. Heavens, but he was the epitome of masculinity, a mixture of darkness and golden light, smoldering smiles and infuriating grins. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to stay aboard. Not with him. On another ship, mayhap, with a short, plump captain with one eye and no teeth. With a captain who didn’t tempt her to think about kissing his full mouth or running her hands, perhaps even her tongue, down his whipcord-tight belly.
“Good thing the captain didn’t fight your brother.”
Trina turned to look up at the giant Gustaaf. “My cousin,” she corrected. “Kyle is my cousin. And why is it a good thing that the captain didna’ fight him?”
“Your cousin would not have gained a draw, but more likely enough bruises to set him abed for a day or two.”
She smiled out of the corner of her mouth, about to set this man straight about how Highlanders fought.
“No one finds victory over the captain. He was taught to fight by the dark-skinned warriors of the West Indies. He’s quicker on his feet than any man I’ve ever seen fight.”
“Pity ye could not remain in Camlochlin longer to have seen our men practice. Yer mind would have been changed.”
The tall Dutchman laughed and shrugged his shoulders, blocking out half the dark sky. “I’m not speaking about practice, lady. Just before we set sail to your land, we took a ship off the coast of Boston. It got bloody when we boarded. Their captain foolishly did not surrender and decided instead to battle us. Captai
n Kidd cut men down like an angel of death bringing the wrath of God down on them. On some, he didn’t use a weapon.”
“Gustaaf.”
They both turned, startled to find the captain standing before them.
“First ya risk yar life to save me hat and now yar singin’ praises about me fightin’ skills.” Alex looped his arm as high as he could get it around Gustaaf’s shoulder. “Yar a true asset to me crew.”
“It’s the very least I can do after what you did for my family, Captain.”
“Hell, that was nothin’. Let’s not discuss it further.”
“Aye aye.”
Trina watched Gustaaf leave in favor of another cracked keg. When she stood alone with the captain, she turned to him. “What did ye do fer his family?”
“’Tis nothin’ that would interest ya. Are ya ready fer bed?”
Her heart fluttered, making her cough. “It would interest me and nae, I’m not ready fer bed.”
“If ya want to discuss things, then discussin’ me prowess in battle is more pleasin’ to me ears than me good deeds.”
“Are there many then?”
“There are enough.” He slid his gaze to her and smiled.
Trina knew she probably shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it and smiled back. Mercy, but the man was as prideful as a Highlander. Was it dangerous to like him? Of course it was. She wasn’t here for some tryst with a sexy, swashbuckling pirate. She didn’t need a man to love in her life. Her poor father could attest to that by all the suitors he had to turn down on her behalf. She loved her father for considering her wishes for as long as he had. She longed for the thrill of the unknown rather than the thrill of a man’s body. But Captain Alexander Kidd could change all that. She still wanted to dive into the unknown, but now the thrill of a man’s body sparked a whole new interest in her.
“Let’s discuss this ship ye took near Boston.”
“Proceed.”
He held out his arm, offering Trina an unobstructed path to the stairs.