by Sophie Stern
“What did you find?” Wade asked Rupert. He set his lantern on top of a barrel and crossed his arms. He wouldn’t look too anxious, but he also wasn’t going to waste time. If Rupert had discovered anything, Wade wanted every detail.
He had been chasing this treasure for so long that he had almost run out of leads, out of information, out of hope. Even the smallest detail, no matter how minute, could turn everything around for him.
What did Rupert know?
The first mate shift uneasily for a moment, then shook his head.
"Nothing," he said finally. "The lead was a mistake."
Wade stared at his first mate, the man he trusted more deeply than a brother, and knew that Rupert was lying. He just wasn't sure why. Rupert looked uncomfortable being alone. For the first time since he'd known him, Wade wondered what the man was thinking.
"Rupert?" Surely it was a mistake. Why would Rupert deceive him, especially about something concerning the treasure?
"I'm sorry," he said. Rupert's eyes look sad as he fumbled behind his back for a hasty second, then held up a small pistol. He pointed it at Wade. "I can't let you get to it first."
So this was how it was going to be. Wade "The Saucy Devil" Docherty was going to go down on his own ship, murdered in cold blood by his first mate. For a moment, he thought it seemed fitting. Wade had been a failure in so many ways, first as a child, then in marriage, now as a captain. He couldn't even find the treasure he'd been desperately searching for to end his pirate days. He couldn't even trust his first mate to help him with the task.
"What did he say?" Wade asked Rupert. He wasn't sure if he was trying to buy himself time or if he actually wanted to know. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Wade was unarmed. Though he was an excellent fighter, Rupert would fire without hesitation if Wade darted near.
When Rupert hesitated, Wade added, "You're going to kill me. Might as well let me know what you've found. What harm can a dead man do?"
Rupert pondered this for just a moment before telling him, "Old man Lester didn't know much, but he had this." Rupert patted his pocket.
"What did he give you?" Wade asked, curious, and more than a little frustrated that his death was near. He had always imagined he would die in a firefight or in hand-to-hand combat. Part of him hoped he'd be killed by a sea monster or some other mythical creature. He never imagined that he'd be shot in cold blood. He was a smart man. At least, he considered himself to be, and this was not something he saw coming.
He felt betrayed in ways he could never put into words.
"A map," Rupert said. "A map of trade routes. The reason no one ain't been able to find The Cursed Hangman," Rupert said with a shady grin, obviously pleased with himself. "Is that the ship wasn't on her regular route."
"What do you mean?" Wade asked, momentarily forgetting about the gun, momentarily feeling shocked. He had spent years pouring over routes and following them. He had spent years talking to people who knew crew members, trying to figure out exactly where they had gone. When he wasn't seeking the treasure, he would plunder and pillage like any good pirate, but the treasure of The Cursed Hangman was what really held his interest.
And this information changed everything.
But now Wade was going to die.
Rupert cocked the pistol and Wade fought the urge to close his eyes. No, he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't give Rupert the satisfaction. If his best friend wanted to betray him, he would have to do it in cold blood. He would have to be a man and look Wade in the eyes as the blood poured out of his body and onto the store room floor.
"It doesn't have to be like this," Wade said, his one last plea. He thought of his dead parents, his dead wife, and his dead children. He thought of the people he himself had killed. He thought of all the bad things he had done in his life and a few of the good things. He thought of the woman at the bathhouse. He thought that it was a shame he wouldn't get to see her again.
"I'm sorry," Rupert said.
Rupert's finger moved slightly, as if he intended to pull the trigger, but he didn't. At that moment, a noise sounded from behind the man and Rupert turned to see what it was. Wade heard Rupert screech, then cough and sputter. Then the man stumbled backwards and fell, dropping the pistol. Wade looked at Rupert lying on the floor. Blood poured out of his back.
Then Wade looked up.
Standing at the back of the room holding a bloody dagger was the woman.
The woman from the bathhouse.
"Am I dreaming?" Wade asked.
"Please don't hang me," she said.
7
Julianne stared at the man on the floor, the man she had just killed. She had never killed anyone before, didn't intend to, and was surprised that she had managed the courage to do so. Julianne was many things, but brave was not one of them.
Blood poured out of the wound on his chest and his body trembled slightly as he died. She had stabbed him right in the heart, as Nelson had told her to, should she ever find the need to kill someone. When Wade looked up at her, Julianne's heart beat faster. She knew he recognized her from the bathhouse, knew he would quickly have to start acting like a captain and not a lover.
"Please don't hang me," she said again. It was all she could say. Wade shook his head, then seemed to make up his mind and walked toward her. She didn't flinch when he reached her and gently took the knife out of her hands, though part of her thought she should be scared. She wasn't. He tossed the knife onto the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist. Then Wade pulled Julianne close to him and she could smell him: fear, courage, power, lust.
"You saved me, love," he managed to say. Then he kissed her deeply. For just a moment, the world stood still. For just a moment, she forgot that he was a captain and she was a stowaway. For just a moment, she was just a woman wrapped in the arms of a man. For just a moment, and then the moment ended.
Wade pulled away and looked at her questioningly. She bit her lip, waiting for the question, but it didn't come. Instead, he leaned down and pulled the map out of Rupert's pocket. Then he walked behind Julianne and peered into the corner where she had been sleeping. He took note of the blanket and the small parcel of food, and then he came back to her.
"Please," a tear slid down her cheek. "I know I'm not supposed to be here." Julianne thought of her brother, Nelson, and his bravery. She thought of his strength and courage. She thought of how he had risked everything to prevent her from becoming Vince's wife. She thought of the way he had always protected her.
"Tell me who you are," Wade said firmly. He did not touch her. Julianne knew that he was not asking her to tell him: he was commanding it. She couldn't give up Nelson. She couldn't tell Wade who her brother was. Even if she had to die, she wouldn't let her brother be forced into death alongside her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again. The tears came faster now, though silently. "I'm running away."
"From Darnial?" Wade asked, but Julianne shook her head.
"Gunthry," she squeaked out.
"You've been on my ship since Gunthry?" Wade raised his voice and his hand, as if to slap her, but as Julianne cringed and shrank away, he dropped it to his side. Instead of slapping her, he balled his hand into a fist, trying to calm himself down. The Dark Lovely had not been to Gunthry for several weeks. Julianne knew he was probably frustrated that he had been tricked for so long.
Julianne nodded.
"Why are you running away?" Wade asked her, his voice still stern.
"I was supposed to be married," Julianne told him. "My betrothed is evil."
"All men are evil."
"Not like this," she insisted, shaking her head slowly. "He's already had three wives and most people in my village believe he beat all of them to death. It was my only choice." Her eyes looked sad. "I couldn't let that happen to me."
Wade took a step closer to her and lifted her chin softly. Julianne sucked in her breath sharply at his touch, remembering the way he had plunged his cock deep into her, remembering the way he had kissed h
er when they were alone.
"Who knows you're here?" He asked, and Julianne bit her lip. She couldn't give up her brother, but Wade already knew. He had seen them together, earlier when he assumed that she was a whore.
"Nelson," he sighed, shaking his head.
"You can't kill him," Julianne insisted, grabbing Wade's hand in desperation. "Please."
Wade looked into her eyes again, and then he looked at the man on the floor.
"You saved my life," he told her. "So I will spare yours, but I cannot spare Nelson's. He betrayed me. He violated his oath."
Wade turned to go, but Julianne grabbed his arm, surprising Wade with her strength, and pulled him back to her. His eyes looked torn and pained as he looked down at her, watching her.
"Wouldn't you have done the same?" She asked him. "If it was your sister?"
Wade dropped her arm.
"Sister?" He asked. "You're not his lover?"
Julianne burst out laughing for just a moment, then bit her lip softly, remembering the seriousness of the situation.
"Definitely not," she said. "I may be adventurous in many ways, but not that one. We're twins."
Wade watched her face, studying her, as if trying to figure out what to do. Obviously unsure of the right choice, he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the storage room.
"Come, darling," he said. "The free ride has ended."
**
Wade yanked the woman through the deserted hallway and up a narrow ladder. He pushed her into his cabin and closed the door, locking it soundly behind him. She stood in the center of the room, hands gripping her skirts, knuckles white.
She looked terrified.
Good, he thought. Served her right. What the hell was going on? He was glad his men were either already asleep or drinking in their quarters. What would they say about the dead body in the store or the woman in his room? He poured himself a drink and tossed back the amber liquid.
It burned as it slid down his throat. He slammed the glass down on the desk and turned back to her. She had to know how beautiful she was. Though it had been mere hours since Wade was inside her, he couldn’t help wanting her again, just once more.
He knew she had to go: her and Nelson both. Though he should hang Nelson for betraying him, he knew Julianne was right. Wade would not have been able to deny his own sister passage on his ship, not if she was in trouble as Julianne had been.
Since when had Wade turned into such a softie? His family had died years before, killed while he was away on a merchant ship. The devastation had torn him apart, made him crazy, made him insane. He had turned to piracy almost instantly, seeing it as a way out. He had never, in all his years on the seas, felt the need to protect a woman.
Not since his wife died.
Not since Madeleine.
As he sank into his chair, he realized his legs were simply too tired to hold him anymore. He had a decision to make and it would have to be fast. A body wouldn’t last in the hold forever, and questions would be raised.
How much information should he give the crew? Who else had known about Rupert’s intention to mutiny? Had they all been in on it?
The fear of betrayal suddenly rushed back, thick and heavy. His stomach knotted and he thought he might be sick, but then he looked up.
At her.
The woman from the bathhouse was watching him, curiously. Her hands had loosened and her skirts hung limply around her body. She still looked fresh and lovely from her bath, and he fought back images of bathing her in the water after taking her body, after making her his.
“What is your name?” He asked her. He had never inquired, never thought it important, never thought she would tell him.
“Julianne Rye,” she said simply, and even in the dimly lit cabin, he could see on her face that she spoke the truth. He stared at her for a long minute, but she spoke again.
“Captain,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “If I may be so bold?”
He nodded curtly. Whatever she had to say, she should say it and be done with it. He had too much to deal with to play games. Not now. Not tonight.
“You have had a horrible evening,” she said. “And I cannot imagine what you must be feeling.”
He snorted. That was putting it lightly. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and chugged, not bothering to pour it in the glass. Who had time for such pretenses anymore?
“Perhaps,” she murmured softly, looking down demurely, almost blushing. “I can take your mind off of things.”
He raised an eyebrow. Was she joshing him? The little waif had saved his life and he was not afraid to admit it, at least to her, and maybe Nelson. Without Julianne’s dagger and bravery, he would be the one lying on the storeroom floor, blood pouring through his shirt, staining the wood flooring he was so particular about.
“Perhaps you can, maiden,” he said, making a sudden decision. He took another swig of the liquor. He wanted to see what she meant, wanted to see what she would do. He was suddenly curious about this one. She said she was running away from a man she did not love: a dangerous man. Here she was, though, running into the arms of someone just as dangerous, perhaps moreso.
Did she not understand this game she played?
Julianne carefully unlaced the worn front of her dirty corset. It pushed her breasts up and outward, giving him a delightful view. He should have noticed earlier in the day how dirty her clothes were, how unsightly her appearance was. A tavern wench would never have gone out wearing such faded clothes.
No, a paid woman would choose bright, brilliant colors designed to draw attention to her body. Julianne did nothing of the sort. Wade knew her clothing must either have been selected because it blended in with the average townswoman, or it was simply very old.
She finished unlacing and allowed the corset to fall to the floor. It landed softly and she looked at him, waiting, watching. Perhaps she wanted him to say something. The hardness in his pants, obviously visible to her, should say enough. She was beautiful and though he had already been inside of her, he wanted to see more.
He wanted to see everything.
She lifted her soft, ruffle-necked blouse and raised it above her head. He was surprised she wore no chemise beneath it, but she certainly did not need one. Her breasts were full and round, and, he delighted to notice, were currently sporting several marks from his kisses and bites earlier that day.
She was barefoot, he noticed, and realized she must have removed her boots earlier in the evening, perhaps when she had returned from port. The only things left on her body were her skirts, which she removed quickly and tossed in a pile.
Then she stood before Wade, naked and wanton, obviously wanting him.
Obviously ready to please him.
He took another sip of the liquor.
“Dance,” he commanded.
8
Julianne took a deep breath and began to move her hips. Though there was no music in the cabin, but she didn’t need any. The song of desire played loudly in her ears and she moved in tune with its urgent beat.
The captain sucked in a breath as her hands moved up and down her body. He had seen her before, but not like this. In the bathhouse, they had been rushed and desperate: two travelers urgent for the release only the other could offer.
Now, her dancing held more than simply a chance to feel good.
Her dancing held the opportunity to help him forget, for a little while, of what he had lost.
Julianne danced until her legs were sore, and then she knelt before the pirate captain. She was surprised he was not yet drunk. Though he had been enjoying a bottle of whiskey, his eyes were still alert, still mesmerized by her movements. As she lowered her body before him, he kept his gaze fixated on her.
She did not speak as she slid her hands up his soft breeches. They were thick and well worn, but soft beneath her hand as she gingerly moved them up.
She had been the aggressor twice now, and in only one day.
Her life was changing faster than
she could imagine.
Julianne slid her hands to Wade’s cock and gripped it tightly over his pants. He groaned, closing his eyes, silently lifting his hips. She slid his pants down and to the floor. He was barefooted, as most of the men on the ship preferred to be, and she lifted each foot as she removed his trousers and tossed them aside.
It was just the two of them now, with nothing between them, and anything could happen in the captain’s dark cabin.
A candle flickered, casting a soft glow on his body. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking her what she was going to do, and Julianne knew she had a choice to make. Would she be brave again? Would she be bold?
She had been taught her entire life that a woman should be silent and meek. She had been trained to understand that a woman’s place was to please a man in the kitchen and to endure his urges in the bedroom, but that was no longer what she desired, no longer what she needed.
Something had changed since Julianne had come to be on a pirate ship. She had changed. She was no longer a girl whose only duty was to take care of a house. She wasn’t expected to cook here or entertain guests. No, today she had a choice, and as the lord of the pirates looked down on her, she knew what to do.
Julianne pressed her hands on Wade Docherty’s thighs. She moved them up slowly, teasing his skin. Goosebumps formed on his thighs, and she bit her lip, excited she was having such an effect on him. His cock was hard and ready for her. By the time her palms reached his balls, he was breathing heavily.
She gently grasped him, feeling his weight in her hands. She ran her fingers over his soft skin before running her hand up and down his shaft. Julianne was fully focused on Wade’s dick now. Her gaze centered on his cock as she touched him, exploring his body. Soon, though, she wasn’t content just to touch him. She wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him pulsing in her mouth, so she leaned forward and slid her tongue over him.
Wade groaned, and a surge of feminine pride shot through Julianne. She had been excited about sleeping with him at the bathhouse, elated even. This was different, though. At the bathhouse, he had taken control of the moment. Although she had ridden his cock, she was very aware that he was in control of the situation. Now, this was different. Their lovemaking now was more intimate.