Linda Skye – The Pirate's Reckless Touch (страница 2)

“Girl,” he growled low in his throat, “this is a dangerous game.”

“So?” she answered coyly, nipping at his chin. “Are you going to play?”

“Perhaps,” he said as he twisted his fingers in her hair and gently pulled her head back. “You certainly need to learn a lesson or two.”

“Oh?” she questioned playfully, allowing him to plant a row of rough kisses up the length of her exposed neck. “What lessons would those be?”

“Foolish lass,” Rawden grunted as he reached down to give her pert bottom a light pinch. “For one, that innocent, high-born girls should not pretend to be strumpets in sailors’ taverns.”

“I’m innocent, am I?”

Rawden stilled immediately, closing his eyes. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine her creamy legs wrapped around him, her pliant flesh yielding to his desire and her cries of passion at his ear. He could have her now if he wanted—let her think she’d won at her game of masquerade and sate his lust with her sweet body without caring about her reputation. And then…he would leave her ruined and sullied.

His breathing heavy, Rawden reluctantly pushed away from her. Planting his palms on either side of her head, he lowered his face to hers. Yes, he thought as he took in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, you’re still innocent. Though her seductive confidence may have been the result of some previous carnal experience, her expression was not the jaded, calculating look of a wharf prostitute. Neither was her face marred by the bitter wrinkle lines of a woman forced to pleasure others at her own expense. He inhaled deeply. Her skin was too soft and smelled of expensive oils. Rawden sighed.

“You don’t belong here,” he repeated gruffly. “Go home before someone ruins you.”

“Someone?” she asked, arching an aristocratic brow.

“Not me,” he warned through gritted teeth, pulling her away from the door. “But if you stay here, someone else will certainly force you to do something you’ll regret.” He stood back, his eyes hard. “So go home, little girl.”

With that, he brusquely brushed past her, pulling open the tavern door with enough force to send it slamming into the wall. He stalked out into the cold, frustration clawing through his veins. He tried to banish the phantom feeling of her body under his as he strode hurriedly away. It was so darned cold, and he quickened his steps. He shoved his hands back into his pockets—and then stopped cold.

Slowly, he reached deeper into his trouser pockets, fingers fumbling and searching. Jaw dropping, he turned out the fabric to be absolutely sure.

Nothing, he thought in disbelieving wonder.

That innocent young girl had just stolen all his money.

Chapter 2

Juliana Wright pulled her thick cloak more tightly around her shoulders and hurried through the twisting alleys. She was on a mission. She’d finally found the right man for the job—a rare type of honourable villain—and then he’d vanished into the night without so much as whispering his name. She frowned crossly. For a moment in that seedy tavern, she had really thought that she’d had him in the palm of her hand. Thankfully, it hadn’t taken too long for Juliana to pry his name off of a few inebriated sailors; apparently he was legendary for his former exploits abroad.

Captain Rawden Wood.

He had once been one of the wealthiest pirates in the Western seas, ravishing treasure-laden ships along the Mediterranean and African coastlines. His ship, the Golden Maiden, had been a shining example of marine engineering—a sleek and swift pirate vessel equipped with the latest cannons and the most cutthroat mercenaries. ‘Twas a shame for him that the illicit gold had all but dried up in Europe. It caused his ship to fall from the pinnacle of its past. It had his crew biting at the bit with restless greed. It made Captain Rawden Wood desperate for money.

And that made him perfect for her job, Juliana thought to herself with a sly smile. Just perfect.

Now, she just needed to find him again.

Her steps were light and sure as she skipped toward her destination. But when she rounded a corner, she almost stumbled to a stop.

A trio of shabbily dressed thugs was casually leaning against the walls, as if they had been expecting her. One of them was picking his teeth with the tip of a nasty-looking dagger. He turned to size her up, and a cruel grin lit his face. He took a menacing step toward her.

“Well, well, well,” he said in a voice as gritty as sand. “What do we have here?”

Juliana spun around, ready to run back the way she came. But another pair of goons emerged from the gloom, their grubby hands reaching for her. She ducked out of their reach and turned to face their leader, realising grimly that she’d been cornered. Her eyes darted from him to his cronies and back again. Their clothes were crusted with salt, their hair matted with dirt and their fingertips blackened with grime. She recognised the sort immediately. Swabbies. They were the grunts of a ship, spending most days mopping up the deck. Their leader—a heartless, soulless pirate, no doubt—was still grinning maniacally as he invaded her personal space, thrusting his face close to hers. His greasy, foul smell assaulted her nostrils, so she did the only thing she could think of.

She turned up her nose at him.

He laughed. “Is that any way to treat an old friend? Surely you remember me—good old first matey Clegg?”

“What do you want, you dirty sea dog?” she demanded, tinting her tone with arrogance.

“You know what I want, my little lassie.”

“I am not your little lassie,” Juliana hissed.

She suddenly felt very crowded as the small group of scallywags tightened their circle around her, cutting off her view of the end of the alley. Her hand slipped instinctively to her thigh and she hitched up the hem of her dress.

“Plan on giving us a show?” the pirate asked suggestively, waggling his bushy brows at her exposed leg.

“Not likely,” she snorted as her fingers found the hilt of her concealed dagger.

“Come on now,” Clegg chuckled. “Just hand it over.”

“Not on your life,” she bit out.

“My life?” Clegg asked with a false smile. “I don’t think it’s my life you should be worried about, lassie.”

Juliana did not answer. She kept her eyes trained on his every move, her hand tightening on her weapon.

“Just give us what’s ours, and we’ll be on our way,” the pirate said, his voice unnaturally coaxing.

“It’s not yours. And it never will be,” Juliana declared.

The pirate’s face turned ugly in rage. Before she could blink, he grabbed her by the upper arm and began to shake her violently.

“Stupid wench,” he shouted, spittle flying. “Give me what’s rightfully mine!”

“Oh? That’s an odd coincidence.” A deep booming voice echoed off the alley walls. “That’s what I want too.”

Her assailant’s hand slipped from her arm as the thugs turned to see who had spoken.

Well, well, well, Juliana thought sardonically, if it isn’t Captain Rawden Wood. What impeccable timing.

But this was not the way she had wanted to approach him, and she considered slinking off into the dark—except that the swabbies’ bodies formed a solid wall against her back. She tensed, waiting for whatever would happen next.

“Just be on your way, bucko,” Clegg sneered. “We have some unfinished business with this here lassie.”

“So do I.” Rawden paused and then added sarcastically, “Bucko.”

“You looking to get hurt, matey?” Clegg threatened.

Rawden paced calmly into the alley, his hands still lightly resting in his pockets. As he neared, Juliana saw just how intimidating he could be. He was tall and dark-haired with piercing green eyes. His gait was sure and measured, as deadly as that of a pacing lion. He stopped when he loomed over Clegg, who had to look up to meet his eyes.

“I hope you’re not mistaking me for a dashing young dandy out to save a damsel in distress,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Because that would be a fatal error.”

“No disrespect, matey—but why bother us?” Clegg said, unable to keep himself from stammering slightly. “She’s just one little wench.”

“That’s my business, not yours.”

“I’ve got men here—”

Rawden interrupted him with a deep sigh.

“Look here, you rapscallion,” Rawden said, tapping the gold pin adorning the lapel of his coat. “Do you know this crest?”

Clegg squinted at the gold pin; a winged woman resting on a thin circlet of gold. It was a well-known symbol. He paled and stepped backward.

“Captain Rawden Wood,” Clegg rasped.

“Aye, then,” Rawden replied, his voice hard and dangerous. “So you do know of me.”

Clegg didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he waved a hand at his swabbies and backed his way out of the alley as quickly as he could, disappearing with the sound of scurrying feet. Silence reigned in the nearly empty back street as Rawden watched their shadows disappear around the corner. Juliana regarded him warily, her fingers still tight around her dagger.

“You can let go of that knife, missy,” Rawden grunted, his eyes sliding to hers. “I’ve no plans to hurt you just yet.”

Juliana didn’t so much as twitch. Rawden sighed.

“You have my money, girl.” Rawden held out a hand expectantly. “That’s what I’m here for.”