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Authors: Dara Joy

Tags: #Romance, #Historical romance, #Historical fiction, #Love Stories

Taste of the Devil (26 page)

BOOK: Taste of the Devil
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It was wrong for a pirate captain to be kissed by the sun as if he were truth’s avenging angel. So what if he looked bloody fabulous into the bargain?

Angry with herself for even noticing his passing attributes, Ginny tried to pull free from his iron hold.

Which only made that hold tighter.

Fuming, she scowled at him. He had the nerve to widen his eyes innocently.

"By your charming expression, I take it you are not conducive to me running my lips along the side of your throat.” His thumb circled the tender spot he had spent a great deal of time licking the past night, “Just a beggar’s taste?"

He was outrageous! As if he had ever begged for anything. Captured and seized was more like it. Ginny tried to say something, she just wasn't sure what. The intimate suggestion did exactly as he intended: irritated her while forcing her to recall exactly how those silken lips felt grazing at her neck. She squinted at him, still speechless.

He smiled, just slightly. "No, I don't suppose you would want that.” He cocked his head to the side as if thinking the matter over. “That being the case, you probably wouldn't want the edge of my teeth to scrape along here either.." The edge of his hand brushed the side of her breast, leaving tingles in its wake.

The breath hitched in Ginny’s throat. Both from his caress and the impropriety of it.

Could anyone see him?

She glanced around the deck, but everyone seemed to be going about their business, paying no mind to them.

No one that is except those two scruffy fellows not-so-discretely elbowing each other in the sides. She suddenly recalled their names from the previous night.

Hack and Slash.

Her shoulders bunched. Terrific. Well, at least, they were pretending not to look.

Seeing her embarrassment, Tyler bent to murmur in her ear. "What is this, sweet? Surely, you don’t want me to rub against your other lips with my–"

Ginny thought she might hate him then. Because that was exactly what she did want. And he knew it.

“Stop it,” she gritted out.

Having accomplished what he set out to do, he released her.

Ginny, however, was not one to receive without giving back.

Crossing her arms over her chest (more to hide her hardened nipples than as a challenging stance; although the stance did serve two purposes at once), she threw her own salvo. "Thank-you, my lord. In turn I will not be pressing my lips to..." She let her glance fall suggestively down his torso. "... anything."

A muscle pulsed in his jaw.

"And, certainly, I will not be running my nails down your back ever so lightly... "

Those incredible eyes flamed as the pirate stared her down, well aware of her challenge.

"And since it is such a warm day,” she blithely continued, fanning herself, “I would not think to stroke such a fire..."

"It's stoke a fire and have a care," he warned her in a husky voice.

"You do to a fire what you want and I shall do as I want." She arched a brow right back at him.

"Then you play with fire," he warned, locking eyes with her. "I am not the Lord Devon you knew from Islemoor Hall. Do not push me."

"Oh, I won't push you." She turned to leave, glancing at him over her shoulder. "No, I wouldn't think of doing that."

He snorted as she walked away, but his eyes never left her as she went to the railing and looked out to sea.

He had meant to stir her up with remembrances of their previous night. Instead, she had turned it back on him. All he could think of was her tentative touch, her soft lips, her clinging mouth, her trembling body moving under his, her–

"Capt'n?"

Tyler almost started. "What is it?" he barked out, much harsher than he intended.

Cappy lowered his voice. "There's a sail on the horizon.

Now I knows she's yer wife, Panther, but yer got ta keep yer mind on the job at hand. Although I'll grant ya she's a right comely lass just made fer making a man's mind wander..."

Tyler clenched his jaw. “Duly noted, quartermaster.

What type of ship is it?”

“Too early to tell.”

“Keep an eye on her and come about if she gains on us.”

Cappy was surprised. It wasn’t their usual course of action at this point. The Panther was most particular about what he went after.

“Yer going to attack?”

“Only if pushed,” the pirate captain answered cryptically before he strolled off, unconcerned about any possible threat.

 

* * *

 

Ginny had elected to stay topside for most of the day, enjoying the fresh breezes. She had never realized that sailing could be so bracing. She rather liked it and wished she had tried it sooner.

Mabel and Henley, however, were another story.

They reluctantly had both followed her lead and come onto the deck. Henley still had the slightest touch of mal-de-mer; thankfully he had lost the horrid shade of green that had graced his face on the Abernathy. Mabel stood near her charge by the railing, glaring at any pirate who dared look their way.

The swabbees seemed to respect that forbidding glare as even the most hardened of them turned away.

Although Ginny suspected that had more to do with the Panther’s orders to his men rather than any mysterious power Mabel had to stare off a pirate horde.

The ship that had been spotted on the horizon dogged their course that entire day.

Up on the quarterdeck Cappy watched through his spyglass, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his belly.

"She’s nipping at our heels, Capt’n. Staying just out of reach. I don't like it much."

Tyler took the glass from him to have a look.

"Mmm... She's keeping her distance, though... Were you able to make her?"

"Aye. Around noon, briefly. A schooner, she is, and by the look of her, fast."

Tyler gave one last look at the ship and handed the spyglass back to his quartermaster. "Strike the colors,” he said unexpectedly.

"What?" Cappy sputtered. "Why would ye want ta do that? She hasn't been gaining on us, and we've no real quarrel with her. Besides, she's riding high. There's naught but air in her hold."

Tyler let out a long sigh. "I did not tell you to turn about and attack, did I? Raise our flag; let's see what she does."

"Aye, Capt'n." Cappy called out the order and the Panther's flag was drawn up the mast.

Tyler leaned against a canon folding his arms across his chest and calmly waited several minutes.

"What is she doing?"

The adam's apple in Cappy's throat bobbed. "She's full sail and gaining, sir."

Tyler rubbed his jaw. "Has she struck any colors?"

Cappy shook his grizzled head. "Nary a thread.

And did I say she's fast, Capt’n? She's closing on us."

"Turnabout and run the cannons out."

"Aye, aye. Should we luff the ship?"

"Nay. Let her catch us if she is so inclined. We can wait prettily on her." He winked at the quartermaster.

The ship went from a relaxed state to a beehive of activity. Ginny’s crew watched the frenetic energy around them, bemused at the action.

"Wot are they doin' running about like that fer?"

Mabel scratched her belly. "It's too hot fer all that."

It was plain the woman did not see the other ship boring down on them. Ginny tried to enlighten her.

"Um, Mabel, I think–"

She was interrupted by Henley, who peered at the horizon through his lorgnette, turning an even paler shade of white. He squealed. "Zounds, is that ship going to attack us?"

"Wot ye say?" Mabel's eyes widened in fright.

Ginny bit her lip. "It does look that way, Henley."

Suddenly, the pirates stopped in their tracks and let out a huge, bellowing cheer. Henley gulped. "They're insanely happy to face death," he choked.

Hack snorted as he ran by, overhearing his remark.

"Nay, Fancypants, they just struck their colors."

"And this is cause for celebration?" Ginny called out.

"Aye, it is! ‘Tis Lord Lion's ship!"

Lord Lion? The other infamous, cutthroat, dastardly murderous, legend of a pirate? Ginny glanced nervously at Tyler.

Her self-proclaimed 'husband' was grinning ear to ear.

Cappy grinned proudly at her. "Arrg, the Panther just had to flush the bugger out."

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

When the schooner closed in on them, both crews were cheering and whooping.

Apparently, the meeting of these outlaw ruffians was cause for great celebration. Slash was already dragging up a barrel of grog from the ship’s hold under Cappy's orders.

As the wind whipped her hair about, Ginny examined the schooner’s flag. Another jolly roger, she lamented. Instead of the traditional skull, the head of a lion roared against a black background. Beneath him were the signatory crossbones that dripped blood.

Delightful.

The boats almost bumped against each other but before that occurred men from the other ship were already throwing grappling hooks and swinging aboard.

Seeing the bloodthirsty things filling the main deck was a bit worrisome.

Ginny wisely sidled over to Tyler. "Ah, how well do you know these fellows?"

"Well enough. You have nothing to fear."

One of the Lion's crew dropped down in front of Henley and leered dangerously at him. "Are you sure about that?" she murmured nervously.

Henley backed up slightly, but managed to glance at her over his shoulder and make a giddy moue with his mouth. Dammed if the fop wasn't secretly enjoying the attention. Ginny shook her head.

Her attention was soon riveted to a man who jumped onto the deck. The captain of the other ship, no doubt. Lord Lion himself.

He cut quite a dashing figure.

Of a height with Tyler– perhaps a shade taller– he sported a dark brown coat. A leather vest covered a white lawn shirt with billowing sleeves. His trousers were dark maroon and his thigh-high boots, a deep saddle brown. On his head sat a wide leather hat and a gold earring gleamed at his left ear. Curiously, his hair was braided all about. The long, woven tendrils were a dark glossy color.

When he lifted his face seafoam greenish-blue eyes flashed in a countenance kissed golden by the sun.

He was larger than life and a bonny-looking bloke.

The pirate strutted across the main deck as if it were his right and swaggered up onto the quarterdeck.

Whereupon he swept off his hat and gave them all a deep, mocking bow.

Flashing white teeth, he smoothly asked the Panther, "So, do you seek quarter, then?"

Tyler calmly arched a black brow. "Do you?" he rejoined.

Two infamous pirate captains demanding the other seek quarter? Ginny, Mabel, and Henley gulped in trepidation.

Pirates’ moods were notoriously fickle. This could end badly.

Lord Lion briefly glanced their way and as his penetrating gaze passed over her, Ginny had the distinct impression that the impressive captain had already taken her measure.

A lopsided grin coupled the Lion’s loaded answer.

“Aye, Panther, I just might.”

Tyler’s brow arched higher.

"And who is this fair beauty?" The dreaded outlaw inquired in the mockish, polite way that only a really good pirate can muster– and usually spells trouble of one kind or another when all is said and done.

Silence on deck.

"Well, she's the captain's hempen halter," Hack piped up to snickers from the crew.

“Hempen halter?” Ginny's nose scrunched up, not liking the sound of that.

"Hangman's noose," Mabel whispered from behind her hand.

"Oh, really." Ginny threw the swabbee a dirty look.

Hack grinned sheepishly then shifted his feet a tad nervously. They had all heard the hellcat’s screeches the night before when the Captain had forcibly taken her from Creaze's ship. No one ever spoke to the Panther liked that–and lived. Truth to tell, the crumpet was a mite scary when she was angry.

Grinning broadly, the Lion examined her from head to toe with keen interest. "Is she now?"

Undaunted, Ginny placed her hands at her hips and stared right back.

The Lion chuckled low and soft. It was a very pleasing sound, and yet, one definitely could hear the underlining threat inherent in the pirate’s soft laugh. It rather made the man simultaneously convivial and alarming.

Strangely, it was a rather attractive combination.

And his eyes were every bit as beautiful as her husband's... Even if they seemed to conceal levels that one might be wise not to invoke. Her judgment was reflected in the level glance she threw him.

The Lion cocked his head to the side, reassessing his original impression of her as simply a feisty beauty.

There was a keen intelligence behind that pretty face.

"Seems your treasure acquiring skills have improved greatly, Panther," he concluded in a wry murmur.

Tyler's nostrils flared with annoyance as he realized the Lion was showing an unhealthy interest in his wife.

"Perhaps," the Lion continued, purposely bating the Panther, "we should rethink our ‘brethren of agreement.’

This may be a treasure worth stealing from you." He stroked his jaw slowly in an attempt to goad the other man.

"One can also kiss the gunner's daughter," the Panther snapped, rising to the bait.

A few gasps were heard as the men waited to see what the Lion would do. After all, the Panther had just threatened to hoist the dreaded pirate over one of the ship's guns and flog him!

If the Panther threatened that much to one such as the Lion what would he do to an ordinary swabbee who might get out of line with her? Many of the hardened pirates shuddered just to think on it.

The Lion caught Tyler’s eye and nodded imperceptibly.

The two men had just successfully set boundaries for their two crews. He smiled at Ginny. "It seems this Panther fellow has a tendre for you, midear.” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a brief kiss on the back. “Who am I to meddle?" He swept off his hat and presented her a courtly bow.

"Who indeed, sir?" She smiled back, dangerously flirting with the infamous outlaw and, no doubt, surprising both men. Damn and blast, but she wanted off this floating asylum and wasn't about to look a gift pirate in the mouth! This charming fellow might be persuaded to take up her cause and transport Henley, Mabel and her to the Carolinas.

BOOK: Taste of the Devil
10.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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