Chapter Three
“Contemptuous, blackheartedfiend!”
Celeste hurled another wood box containing saints knew what, then basked in muted satisfaction when it shattered against the door. In the moments since he’d abandoned her, effectively locking her in a prison, she released a lifetime of rage.
She cursed herself for being a naive fool. For trusting her uncle. For even contemplating trusting a pirate. Madness, all of it.
Snatching a glass jar from the table, she lobbed it at the spot where he’d sneered at her with delight.
Curse him for being not only clever but the most dastardly handsome man she’d ever seen. Before entering the tavern, Celeste hadn’t known what to expect of the legendary pirate. She certainly hadn’t anticipated a devilish rogue clad in black and brandishing a hook where his left hand had been. While she prided herself on her intuition, it had been sorely mistaken as of late. It stood to reason this endeavor was doomed to fail the moment she’d conceived of it.
However, she had no choice. No one else would come to her aid. Her father was dead, and her uncle had been complicit in his demise with designs to take the throne once he’d removed any remaining threat to his claim. Her sister trusted him implicitly. Caroline would never believe her. No one would.
And thus the desperation of this scheme.
At first, she’d considered herself fortunate and thanked her lucky stars the infamous pirate and his ship were anchored in their port. It had taken quite a few coins to eke out what little information she could from the dockhands who slaved away in the slums. But their eyes had lit up when she flashed a gold coin, caring little for who she was, distracted by the gleaming possibilities it provided.
Her heart pounding and feeling breathless, Celeste surveyed the damage around her. She’d torn through the opulent chamber, shattering whatever trinkets she could. How dare he imprison her?
She should have known. A pirate would always take the more lucrative route, forgoing meager morals. Did pirates even have souls?
As she glanced around the captain’s cabin, she noted the proportions of the room. Not as large and ostentatious as her father’s quarters on his ship, but it took up the width of the stern. Dying sunlight drifted through the windows along the far wall and dust danced in the beams of light swirling around her.
Celeste leaned against a round table in the center of the room, noting a map carved into the dark wood and painted with intricate details. Her fingertips traced the markings as she admired the craftsmanship. The rest of the room matched the table—dark wood carved with faces and creatures of the deep sea.
The bed lay under the windows, neatly made with red damask linens and plush pillows. A bed fit for a king. Or in this case, a heartless pirate captain. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of him lying there, asleep, his raven hair spread across the pillow, sea-blue eyes hidden from the world. The perfect image of strength in repose. How lovely it would be to then drive a blade through his heart.
Wait.
She reached down and unfastened a dagger tied around her ankle, hidden inside her oversized boot. In the chaos of the moment, she’d forgotten it—whether out of exhaustion or pure naivete, it mattered not. When the sinful captain returned, she would have the upper hand. She would make him see reason.
The lock clicked behind her.
Celeste spun around, gripping the dagger tightly behind her back. There was no time to hide or use the element of surprise. Cursing her foolish waste of resources and time, she leaned against the table and inhaled deeply, waiting to face him.
As the door swung open and he stepped inside the cabin, air whooshed from her chest.
His broad form filled the doorway. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead when he cocked his head. Those sharp eyes glinted in the fading light, surveying the damage to his room before coming to rest upon her.
How in the devil had he grown more handsome? Irritation gnawed at her, even as her body warmed under his perusal. She loathed him with every fiber of her being.
“Have you finished destroying my belongings?”
Celeste lifted her chin. “Not quite, but if you keep me here, I will finish the job.”
That damnable smirk appeared on his lips, and her gut twisted in response. She ignored it, focusing only on his proximity. Just a little closer...
As though summoned by her thoughts, he stepped into the cabin and closed the door behind him.
“You will be my...guest until I find someone who is willing to pay handsomely to take you off my hands.” He rubbed his jaw with his gloved hand.
“Guest?” she scoffed, her blood heating at the mockery. “I paid you in gold to aid me.”
“What do you expect from a pirate, Princess?” He drew closer still, resting the curve of his hook on the carved table between them. “We are not heroes. We take what we desire and leave nothing to chance.”
“You are a vile, repulsive, thieving scoundrel.” Celeste braced herself as he stopped beside her. “You deserve to rot in the depths of the sea.”
In a flash, she lunged toward him. Her blade caught the sun’s light from the window as it came down in an arc, aimed directly for his heart.
He sidestepped, then lifted his arm and caught her wrist with one fluid motion. The pressure of his grip twisted her skin, and pain shot through her arm. A cry broke from her lips as he pulled, bringing her flush to his chest. He eyed the blade in her hand before meeting her gaze. The color of his eyes glistened with humor, roiling and churning like waves crashing against the cliffs.
The infuriating man leaned close, his heat suffocating her. “If you wish to kill me, Princess, you will need to be cleverer than that.”
“I will kill you, make no mistake, cur.”
“Hmm.” He banded his arm around her as she fought his hold. The unforgiving metal hook pressed firmly into her side. “Perhaps a few lashes will teach you to mind your manners while aboard my ship.”
Her breath caught as icy dread caressed her spine. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You have been coddled since birth, spoiled beyond reason.”
He cocked his head, studying her, and she had no choice but to do the same. Celeste noted his sun-kissed skin beneath the stubble along his jaw. Delicate lines depressed near his eyes as he indulged in a lopsided grin.
“Perhaps it is high time someone taught you the ways of the world, Princess.”
“I know enough of the world to understand how your twisted mind works, Captain.” She pushed him, but he did not budge, instead remaining a solid beam of timber beneath her hand. “Your threats will not sway me.”
“If threats will not work, perhaps seduction will.”
He shifted his weight, and her eyes widened at the hard press of him against her thigh.
Thisaroused him? She aroused him? Surely not. While the thought left her unsteady and warm, she shoved emotion aside, focusing instead on the power this afforded her. Celeste was no innocent. What little experience she possessed, she would use to her advantage.
“Give me a chance, and I shall ensure you never use it again.” The promise slipped from her lips in a honeyed caress, a bold but necessary bluff. “Ruin me, then who will pay for damaged goods?”
“Hmm.” The captain arched his brow, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “It matters not. You are a princess of Nevarro, someone will pay for your safe return.” His voice dipped low. “Ruined or not.”
“You will be sorely disappointed.” Celeste laughed, the sound hollow in her ears. “No one cares for my safety. I am not the heir. I am no one.”
“If that is true, why were you hiding? Skulking around the docks with a sack of gold, searching for a pirate to save you?”
“Because they made it quite clear I am no longer welcome...or valued.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye.” Celeste pushed gently against his chest.
He withdrew the weapon from her hand and released her. Backing away, he allowed air to flow between them once more.
She inhaled deeply, filling her aching chest, and exhaled sharply as disappointment ebbed through her at the loss of his touch. Celeste shook her trembling hands before clenching them into fists.
“I do not believe for one moment a treasure such as yourself is without value.” He tucked her dagger into his waistband.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On which way the wind blows.” He winked before turning to the door.
“What in the devil does that mean?” Celeste darted toward him but stopped when he spun to face her, his hand on the door’s latch.
“Clean up your mess, Princess.”
“Or what?” She placed her hands on her hips.
“Or go hungry.” He grinned. “While you are aboard my ship, you will do as I command.”
“And if I defy you?”
His eyes darkened. “You will learn how ruthless a pirate can truly be.”
Without another word, he left the cabin and locked the door behind him.
Celeste collapsed against it. Panic clawed up her throat, escaping in a scream of frustration. Her only means of freedom left her at the mercy of a madman. She pounded her head against the solid wood.
Death, at least, would have been swift and merciful.
She crossed to the window and opened the latch, allowing the salty spray of sea air to kiss her face. Then she saw it in the distance as the coast drifted further from view. The castle, high on the cliff, brightly lit against the setting sun. Celeste’s choice had been made for her. How could she salvage the wreckage of her life before it was too late?
She stared at the coast until it vanished from view. Only then did she light the lanterns and set to cleaning up the captain’s quarters. To save her tender feet from broken shards of glass. Her actions had nothing to do with the smoldering scoundrel who now held her fate in his hands.