MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Romance: BETRAYED: (New Adult Motorcycle Club Navy SEAL Romance) (Contemporary Military Romance Thriller) (37 page)

Chapter 4

Drake led the way through the backdoor of the warehouse and down the dock, slipping down a hidden ladder that Charlotte had missed on her way in. It was completely rusted over and blended in with the wood planks perfectly.

“Impressed?” Drake asked, obviously proud of his hideaway. He made a funny move with his arm, as if he’d wanted to help her but thought better of it, leaving her to struggle with the slippery ladder on her own. It was as if he was showing her her helplessness, her completely inability to survive in his world.

She gritted her teeth and, determined to make it down, pushed herself off the ladder to land on a particularly flat rock. She planned her jump perfectly, making sure she’d make it onto the rock and not into the sea -- but she’d completely forgotten she’d been wearing a dress.

“Oh, confound it!” Charlotte yelled as her skirts sailed up above her head, revealing her undergarments for the whole world to see. Drake, who’d come in close to help her, got a front-row seat to her petticoat and stockings.

After a second of shocked silence, Drake doubled over and howled in the most uproarious, ungentlemanly laugh she’d ever heard. Charlotte, bright red, turned ‘round and started marching away in a huff.

“Li’l Duchess, yer goin’ the wrong way,” Drake managed to say in between hoots of laughter. Charlotte did a quick about turn and strutted past him as regally as she could, nose in the air. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from whispering, “You’ve got mighty fine legs hidden under those petticoats, lass” into her ear as she passed.

When Drake eventually caught up to her, her face was still the exact same shade of an overripe tomato.

“Where to?” she asked, still in the same regal tone she adopted to preserve a bit of her dignity. Drake took her hand gently and led her onto a small lone rowboat.

“Hold on tight, lass. This’n here’s gon’ be a rough ride.”

The tiny boat almost capsized no less than five times during their rather long journey, but Charlotte didn’t mind in the least. The rough winds pulled at her hair, slapped at her cheeks; the waves came to greet her and drenched her in icy water that sapped her heat away. It was cold, wet, tiring and dangerous -- Charlotte had never had so much fun in her life.

Drake seemed to feel much the same way: his eyes seemed to shine with a light that she’d never seen on land and he became less gentleman, and more of the rogue. With every pull of the paddle, he seemed to shed a bit more of his polished mannerisms until finally Charlotte finally believed that she was talking to the Gentleman Pirate, legendary scourge of the Royal Navy.

Everything about him seemed to be brighter, newer, tougher, larger. Even his old coat, so odd to her at first, seemed perfect on him, straining around his large arms and strong chest. She’d never seen a more good-looking piece of fashion in her entire life.

Eventually, the boat came astride a huge ship, though Charlotte had been aboard much larger ones belonging to the British Royal Navy. When she mentioned so, Drake seemed impressed at her observation. His gaze shined with approval.

“Yes’m, she ain’t a massive ol’ lady but she’s the fastest li’l thing in the whole seven seas.” Drake said. He grasped the rope ladder that fell from the ship and motioned for her to climb up. She eyed the ladder than grasped it, more excited than afraid.

Clumsy at first, she soon got the hang of it and scampered up the side of the ship as agile as a cat. It felt like she’d done this a thousand times. A million. As if she’d been born to run up rope ladders and balance on rowboats and brave the seas.

When they’d both climbed over the top, Drake’s gaze was locked on her with a mysterious, heated smolder. The intensity of it swallowed her, as if she could fall into those dark eyes and never find her way out.

Her skin prickled in anticipation and she just managed to bite back an involuntary moan at the way he seemed to undress her with just his eyes.

Drake seemed to feel the same way, and he’d taken a step towards her when someone cleared his throat from behind the two of them.

“What, Pietri?” Drake growled, the low rumble setting her aflame. Oh, to imagine that voice in her ear, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear as her gripped her waist and pushed his way into her, taking her…

A blush lit her cheeks and Drake’s hungry gaze ate up the sight, seemingly unable to tear himself away.

“Cap’n, the lads were wondering when we’d be pushing off. We’ve been here a couple days longer than planned and yesterday night you disappeared right before the big explosion...” The voice -- Pietri -- said lightly, almost unconcerned. “But I see you’ve had a reason for your distraction.”

Charlotte forced herself to turn around, walking past a rather lean golden haired man -- hardly older than her, really -- who watched her appreciatively as she explored the deck.

“Stop that!” Drake snapped. Pietri looked surprised for a moment, before shrugging in his light-hearted way.

“Hey, she’s gorgeous. I ain’t seen a classic English beauty like that in a long time.”

“She’s off-limits, ya hear? ‘n tell the men too.”

“Jeez, Cap’n, what’s got your knickers in a twist? She’s jus’ a girl. A fine-lookin’ one, but a girl all the same.” Pietri saw something in Drake’s face, and shrugged. “Though it seems this one’s got you bad.”

“I was thinkin’...” Drake started, then stopped. Pietri was a mighty fine sailor and an even better pirate -- hence why he was first mate even though all of Drake’s crew were talented and experienced. He was also Drake’s best friend; they’d both been nobles together, and when Drake had left he’d brought Pietri with him.

If there was anyone he could consult with about the crazy idea that had been eating him ever since he’d met Charlotte, it would be Pietri.

Drake watched Charlotte explore his pride and joy, heart singing whenever she found something new or figured out how to work the contraptions on deck. She looked so happy and vibrant on the open sea, her cheeks rosy and eyes shining with joy -- a complete contrast from when he’d first found her in the streets.

Although he never got involved in the business of others, he couldn’t help but make an exception for her. The girl had been pale with desperation and defeat but she’d still held her ground against the group; he couldn’t help but respect her backbone.

And backbone she had, something she’d proved to him again and again. In the heat of her eyes, the strength of her grip, the perseverance with which she looked for him, despite knowing he was a wanted criminal and a hardened pirate --

He couldn’t let her go. She reminded him of himself, back before he’d fled for the open seas -- she was of the same make as he and Pietri. If she stayed shut up tight within the stuffy cage of the
ton
she’d wither and die. Especially if she was forced to marry that abominable, corrupted, sham of a
prince.

Drake shut his eyes and breathed out through his nose, trying him to calm himself from the thought of Charlotte marrying another man -- nay, even
thinking
of another man.

Christ, had he really fallen that far already?

“What would you say about bringing her on board?” Drake asked Pietri as they both watched her climbing up the rope net to the crow’s nest.

It took a while for Pietri to gather his thoughts from the
complete
and
utter
foolishness Drake was spitting. “Sorry, what?”

“What do ya think. ‘bout bringing ‘er on board.”

Pietri spluttered, one of the rare times he lost his devil-may-care cool. “But...a girl? On a
pirate ship
?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’re just asking for bad luck.”

“You don’ honestly believe those old wives tales, do ya?”

“It doesn’t’ matter what I believe, it’s what the crew believes.”

“Then why don’t we ask them firsthand? I’m sure Charlotte will persuade them to change their minds.”

“Is this really you, Albert?” Pietri looked him square in the eye. If he was using his old name, then that meant he was really serious. “The man who thought woman were nothing but a burden? Who loved nothing but his freedom and his ship?”

“I thought it was strange too. But I’ve made up my mind -- if the crew be willin’, she’ll stay on this ship.” Pietri took in the set of Drake’s jaw and the fire in his eyes and relented. Drake was speaking as his Captain now, and when he looked like this no one could stand in his way -- not Neptune, not Lady Fortune, and especially not himself.

“Lead the way, Cap’n.”

Drake called for Charlotte, and he seemed to swell with happiness when she came to him, his eyes betraying his adoration for the beautiful and spirited girl in front of him.

He led her into the lower decks, where a manly stench hit her off-guard. The rest of the crew were resting there, safely out of the dismal conditions of the sea.

“Oi look! Cap’n’s brought us a sweet young thing!” A cry went up and Pietri flinched, expecting Drake to roar at them like he did at him. But Drake stood motionless, letting Charlotte prove -- both to himself, the crew, and Pietri -- that she had the guts to be on his ship.

Charlotte, to Pietri’s grudging respect, didn’t shrink back from the dirty or unwashed crowd of men pressing in to see this beauty. Most of them had sated their need for women while they’d been docked, but there was a groomed and polished look about Charlotte that made her a different breed entirely from the used toffers at the rookeries.

Next to him, Pietri could see Drake tense as a man got too close to Charlotte, his fist clenching until the knuckles were white. If Drake had been less of a man, blood might be shed today.

As it was, some of the crew had been with Drake long enough to notice when their Captain was well and truly enraged, and they backed off. One newbie who’d joined them at the last dock, however, reached in close enough to stroke Charlotte’s hair.

Drake lunged at the same time Charlotte ducked, as seamlessly as if the move had been coordinated by the two beforehand. Charlotte stepped out of the fray as Drake knocked the man down with one swing, stopping the next blow before he could knock the man senseless.

Then she held out a hand for the man to grab, staggering against the man’s weight as he pulled himself up.

In the utter silence that followed, she said rather drily, “Wasn’t much of a brawl, was it?”

The whole cabin seemed to shake with the men’s mirth. The man Drake had decked grinned sheepishly, rubbing his sore cheek.

“Thank ya lady. I gots my fair share, messin’ wid da Cap’n’s woman.”

Charlotte grinned as well, cheeks heating at the mention of her being Drake’s woman. The others approached her cautiously and she dove right into what she knew best -- socializing.

She called for beer and rum and food, all of which came plentily after Drake made it clear that he supported whatever she ordered, and a regular party started. By the time the sun cast its parting pink and red rays over the sea, most of the men had drank themselves into a stupor and all they could talk about was the beauty and charm of a certain Charlotte Gordon.

“It seems you have a gift with these ruffians,” Drake murmured to Charlotte as the merriments began to wind down.

She laughed. “I should hope so! They’re all good men, Drake.”

He knew. He knew intimately that each and every one of these men, no matter their background or history, possessed a good heart. They all looked out for each other on this ship -- this motley crew of men was the closest thing to a family he had ever known.

Drake drank in the sight of Charlotte, who was sipping her beer and watching over his men with a fond eye. Already she’d grown attached and the men obviously loved her in return; some of them had already come up to Drake and, in their inebriated state, made it clear that he should “tie her down” as soon as possible.

Would she consent to joining their family?

Drake opened his mouth to ask, but Pietri suddenly appeared at her side as if he simply melted out of the shadows.

Charlotte startled. “Don’t
do
that! I get enough of a fright from Drake’s antics as it is.”

Pietri gave a courtly mock-bow, remnants of his noble past. “‘pologies. But if you’d like to get backta shore, night’s fallin’ fast.”

She looked down at her feet then squeezed her eyes shut, looking for all the world like a prisoner going to the noose. “I suppose I must leave sometime. Thank you, Pietri, for having me here. It was one of -- nay, the
best
afternoon of my life.”

She gave him a heart-stopping smile, and even the lady-killer looked stunned. Drake felt a quick stab of jealousy that he hid by gruffly standing, offering his arm to Charlotte.

“I’ll walk ya back home as per tradition, li’l Duchess.”

“Yes, because you are quite the stickler for tradition, Sir Pirate.” Charlotte teased gently, and Drake couldn’t stop the smile that spread slowly on his face.

“Oh, git on with it you lovebirds.” Pietri said, rolling his eyes as he practically shooed them onto the deck.