My Wicked Pirate. Rona Sharon
groggily.
“You don’t remember?”
“My head.” He groaned. “It feels…wooly. I can’t seem to form one coherent thought.”
“You daftly preferred draining one of Lucas’s brandy bottles instead of taking laudanum. You are in his house, by the way, in my bedchamber.”
He smiled faintly. “Now I remember. How does your fiancé feel about my commandeering your bed? Should we expect a squadron of guards to barge in on us at any moment?”
“He wouldn’t dare. It would be the end of his naval career and quite possibly his life, if my grandfather got wind of it.”
“And my ship? Did he confiscate her?”
“After Giovanni and Nico brought you here, your ship sailed away. Your sister stayed.”
He nodded, still holding her hand in his. “Why are you helping me, Alanis? You should be begging Silverlake to hang me, not care for a strange pirate as if he were a wounded cub.”
Not caring to discuss her reasons, she tried to free her hand. Unsuccessfully. “If you wish to scribble a complaint, I’ll provide you with a plume and some paper,” she offered sweetly.
“You cannot fool me.” He slid her hand up his smooth chest and held it over his heart. “With all the venom in your tongue, you are as tenderhearted as they come. A romantic.”
Alanis’s heart missed a beat. “A romantic?”
“Obviously. Helping an injured stranger…” He shut his eyes against a stab of pain, yet he was still smiling, his chest rising and falling beneath their laced hands. “Your hand feels nice.”
She exhaled with relief. “You think helping you is a romantic deed?”
“I think it is a foolish deed. If I were your grandfather, I’d be spanking your bottom blue.” One eye squinted at her. “Perhaps I should look into the matter when I’m improved…”
“You are not my grandfather. Besides, you know perfectly well why I helped you, to get back at Lucas,” she added quickly before he jumped to the wrong conclusion.
“Really?” He opened his eyes, grinning. “You’re right, Alanis. I am not your grandfather and you are not a child. You are a grown woman playing a very dangerous game with a pirate.”
“A helpless, pitiable pirate,” she pointed out while her cheeks bloomed with color.
“Well, this helpless, pitiable pirate is extremely grateful to put his life in such fine, delicate hands.” Eros raised her hand to his lips and pressed a heated kiss inside her palm.
Heat coursed through her. She took a deep breath. Time to collect her delicate hand. “Your dressing needs to be changed, and I should paste some salve over your wound to help it heal.”
He released her hand. “Where will you sleep? Here with me?” he asked hopefully.
Ignoring the question, she reached inside her medicine kit and took out a small bottle and several clean patches of linen. She peeled the fine linen dressing off and examined the stitches she had sewn hours ago. The bleeding stopped, and the skin was on the mend. She spread the white salve using her fingertips. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him more pain.
“You have a gentle touch, Amore. Unlike other females who’ve patched me up.”
She continued to ignore him, so he grasped one of her wet locks and rubbed it between his fingers, as a tailor assessing the texture of a rich fabric. He brought it to his nose and inhaled its flowery scent. “Golden-haired girl, you could bring a good price in the Souk in Algiers.”
She smiled. “I see you are determined to annoy me, though it is not to your best interest.”
His white teeth gleamed wickedly. “I am determined to gain your attention, lovely nurse. There is a man around this wound, you know.”
“I’ve noticed.” She cleaned her fingers and gently retied the knot around the bandage.
“He may be helpless and pitiable at the moment, but he is still capable of appreciating the touch of a beautiful woman’s hand.” His fingers released her lock of hair and curled around her nape. “There’s a saying where I come from,” he whispered, drawing her head closer. “’Always beware of the Viper.’” He kissed her, as tenderly as she had dressed his wound.
His lips made her dizzy. By means of sheer willpower she managed to sit upright again. “I have a question. What does the Latin inscription on your medallion say?”
A distant look surfaced in his drugged eyes. “Death is bitter. Fame eternal.”
She tried to decipher the look, but he looked away. “You should sleep. You will feel as a new man come morning. I left you a drink of water and this…”
Eros’s head turned on the pillow. A water trencher and a glass were placed accessibly close on the bedside console, and beside them rested the orange Jasmine had flung him.
Alanis got up. The feel of his lips still hot on hers, she was eager to get away and hide in the adjacent drawing room, at least until he fell asleep. Her hand closed on the doorknob.
“Alanis.”
She turned around. His heavy-lidded gaze immobilized her.
“Thank you.”
The next day Alanis went to confront Lucas in his study. Kingston’s waterfront sprawled beyond open windows: a prosperous little harbor with ships coming and going, whitewashed houses, palm trees, and a splendid turquoise sea. Spending the next years of her life on this island appealed to her very much. She would simply have to adapt to the tropical climate. She snapped open her fan and was about to enter the den when loud voices quarrelling inside stopped her.
“You cannot hang my brother!” Jasmine raged. “He let you live because I protected you!”
“I am commissioned by the queen to sanitize these shores, and your brother will get his day at Gallows Point!” Lucas retorted harshly. “He held my fiancée captive on his cutthroat ship with all his cohorts onboard. God knows what she suffered at his hands.”
“Lady Alanis happily volunteered to treat my brother’s injury, Hunter. Besides, you did not give your fiancée much thought when she was tucked away in England. Why should it bother you now that she likes Eros?”
Alanis had to restrain herself from bursting in and giving them a piece of her mind.
“You may revere him as a god, but he is not,” Lucas growled. “And while I sincerely doubt his humanity, I assure you he’s all flesh and blood, of the worst sort, mind you, but mortal!”
“By God, you are still jealous!” Jasmine laughed. “Is it because of me or Lady Alanis? Do you suppose she’s in love with him?”
Alanis held her breath, interested to hear Lucas’s reply.
“For weeks you made me believe he was your lover. Then you side with him against me! He is practically a condemned man. There is not one power in the world that hasn’t warranted his arrest. I cannot release him. And even if I could grant him a pardon, I absolutely wouldn’t.”
“I never claimed he was my lover. You assumed he was, as the rest of the world did.”
“You didn’t see fit to enlighten me as to the true nature of your connection. Did you enjoy making me insanely jealous?”
Blinking back tears, Alanis accepted the truth: They were more than lovers; they were in love. Neither sunshine nor freedom awaited her here, only heartache. Thank God she had taken the initiative and come here. If she hadn’t, she would have wasted years waiting for Lucas to return and marry her. She had saved herself in the nick of time. So why did it hurt so much?
The doors opened. “Alis, it’s you!”