Chapter Eighteen
The rum did nothingto soothe his temper.
James took another swig from the bottle anyway, draining the last of its contents, and tossed it aside. He scowled at the rumpled bed where he’d found her the first night, curled beneath the blanket, wearing naught but silk and a sour disposition. The memory of her soft skin and the feel of her against his tongue left an ache in the pit of his gut.
She had done this to him, ripped him from a life of complacency on the sea and thrust herself directly in his path like a hurricane.
Celeste was certainly a force of nature. She’d convinced him to trust her. He was a fool to think their agreement would stand. After constant course corrections, navigating their bargain had become somewhat muddled. Expectations were as murky as the depths of the Endless Sea.
Even now, he refused to admit defeat. She tricked him and his men, locked them in the vault, left them to their fates. Her expression when she’d discovered the vault empty gave him a gnawing satisfaction, and yet, he followed her, knowing she would attempt to escape if she found the opportunity.
His men had not abandoned him as he’d ordered, for which he was thankful. But it was catching the wench in desperation, pleading for escape, that left him most conflicted. He had her exactly where he wanted her. Begging and desperate. Still...whatever remnant of a soul remained in him twisted at the thought of leaving her at the mercy of her uncle.
James stood, shoved the chair aside, and paced the floor of his cabin. The ship coursed over waves, rolling with the pitch, as they made for Tempest Cove. His men deserved a reprieve after they stashed the loot on an unmarked island near their hidden oasis.
They’d stumbled on it by chance while taking shelter during a storm. Over the past decade, they’d built a small village upon the white sands nestled in mermaid coves. While he had yet to see one, rumors remained that the mermaids lived in the depths surrounding the island, their bloodthirst driving away any hope of settlers taking the land and making port. James held no stock in the superstition and staked his claim. And no mermaids had risen to lure them to their deaths.
But a siren called to him from the belly of his ship. Smee had locked her in the brig at his command and set two men to guard her. They were not to speak to her or even acknowledge her presence. Resisting the draw of her company, James ignored her shouts as they dragged her below deck.
With bellowed directions to the crew, the ship set sail, and James took the wheel, allowing his gaze to drift over the horizon as wind caught his sails, pulling him farther from shore. Once they were out of view of the cliffs of Nevarro, James relinquished the helm and retreated to his cabin to drown himself in rum and to wallow in his misfortune.
He raked his hand through his hair. What in the devil was he to do with her?
There was not enough rum on the ship to let him forget her, though the edge of his fury had been dulled to irritation by the strength of the spirit. He swayed as he straightened, thankful for the rolling ship to hide his sorry state. His men had seen him drunk many times, but he refused to let them see it now. Not after what had transpired in those twisting caverns.
With a growl, he snatched his flogger. He had no intention of striking her, but by Poseidon, he would threaten to do so if she lied to him. Pulling the leather straps through his fingertips, he shivered and closed his eyes. Such a punishment could easily be a thing of pleasure, if...he shoved the thought away and strode for the door.
The men’s gazes followed him as he stepped onto the deck. Smee’s lips thinned when he glimpsed the whip in his hand, showing his obvious displeasure at the direction of James’s thoughts.
James turned, weaving his way into the bowels of the ship. Darkness settled around him as he went deeper. The stench of bilge water made his nose twitch. When he reached the brig, two sailors stood, snapping to attention.
“Leave us.” He waited until they scurried up the ladder and then allowed himself to look at his prisoner.
Celeste sat in the center of the cell, iron caging her, more iron binding her wrists and ankles. Her hair, damp and matted, lay across her brow and clung to her shirt. The thin material molded to her body, showing every tantalizing curve and outlining her pert nipples as they strained against the cold fabric. Her body trembled, her teeth chattering, but she kept her chin high as her furious gaze followed him and narrowed.
“Is this how you treat prisoners?” she snapped.
“This is the luxury a traitor deserves.” He withdrew a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. As it swung open, he stepped inside. Her gaze dropped to the flogger hanging from his hook.
“What do you plan to do with that?”
“Well, that depends entirely on you and whatever lies you plan to weave.” He leaned against the bars, watching her carefully. She could not stand, chained as she was through a link in the floorboards.
“I never lied to you.” Her lips quivered in the damp cold. “You lied to me.”
“How do you figure?”
“You promised you’d help me rescue my sister, yet your eyes were only for treasure.” She rolled her shoulders, settling her hands in her lap. “I was going to return and free you once I had her.”
“And you returned empty-handed?” He inclined his head. “I take it your sister is no longer a damsel in distress?”
“She is...” Celeste looked away, her throat working as she paused. “My uncle has poisoned her toward me.”
“I see.” James stroked his jaw. An interesting turn of events. Not that he was particularly surprised. Most men in powerful stations preyed upon those who were weak of mind and lacked fortitude.
It was the reason he assumed her uncle had ordered her death and framed her as a traitor when his plans fell through. Celeste was not easily manipulated or influenced. Her strong mind and cunning wit were often offset by her innocent naivety about the world, but she learned quickly and would have unraveled the plot before it had a chance to grow into a true danger.
“Tell me, Princess, did you feel even a moment of regret for abandoning us?”
“I did what I needed to do.” She clenched her jaw. “I have no regret for attempting to thwart my uncle and save my sister.”
“Discovering her betrayal must have been quite the blow, for you to come rushing back to me.” He toyed with her, twisting an invisible blade deeper into her gut. “How did you manage to escape unscathed?”
Her face blanched and her eyes closed, as if she was shielding herself from some horrid memory. She shook her head and swore, the sound from her lovely lips oddly arousing.
“I barely managed to escape.” Her eyes snapped open and bore into his. “But not before leaving my uncle with a parting gift in warning.”
James noted the harsh edge in her words, the way they rasped from her throat, as though ripped from deep within her against her will. She’d fought back, but what did it cost her?
“And your sister?”
“She remained at his side. I seized my moment to escape before the guards arrived.”
“Out of the frying pan into the fire.” He grinned, taking the flogger in his hand. “Did you think you could return to my ship without paying penance for your betrayal?”
“If you intend to punish me, do it.” She shivered.
He pressed the tip of the flog to her chin and raised it. She glowered at him, her breath ragged and shaky.
“You exploited my men. My ship. Me.” He traced the leather across her shoulder and neck. “I dislike being treated in such a disrespectful manner.”
She scoffed as another shiver wracked her, one he suspected had nothing to do with the cold.
“Pirates should be used to it. Why would you trust me when you told me yourself I cannot trust you?”
James suppressed a twitch of his lips. Amusement battled with the irritation inside him. “You learn quickly, Princess, and still you have played a dangerous game with me.”
“A game you enjoy.”
He ignored the twinge of pride in her response. “You betrayed me. I cannot leave such action unpunished.”
“Do what you must.” She sniffed. “I will pay the penalty.”
He dropped the flogger to his side, eyeing her, something akin to admiration blossoming in his chest. Quickly stomping it down, he stepped away, afraid he might reach out and free her from her bonds before taking her to his cabin and seizing the one thing he longed to plunder.
Without a word, he turned, leaving her bound in iron. When he reached the deck, he located the two guards set to watch her.
“Have the prisoner taken to my cabin and lock her inside. Stand watch until we reach Tempest Cove.”
“Aye, Captain.” The men responded in unison and retreated below deck.
Smee stepped around the mast and leaned against it. “You whipped her?”
James tucked the flogger into his vest. “Not that it is any concern of yours, but I refrained.”
“How noble of you.” Smee sounded relieved even in his teasing.
“We sail for three days.” He kept his voice low. “She will remain in my cabin until we reach Tempest Cove.”
“And then?” His ire flared at Smee’s lopsided smile.
“And then I shall decide what is to be done with the troublesome wench.”
Smee shook his head. “It seems the infamous captain has finally met his match.”
“Shut it,” James snapped. “You will sleep with the crew, and I will take your cabin until we reach shore.”
“Aye, Captain.” With a frown, Smee sighed. “It would do you well to admit when you’ve been bested.”
“She betrayed me.” He jabbed a finger in his first mate’s chest. “I have still won.”
“Won what?” Smee asked. “Aye, we have treasure, we escaped unscathed, but you grumble and stew like a man simmering in misery.”
“What would you have me do, then?”
“A truce.” Smee cocked his head.
“You wish me to call a truce with the wench who left us for dead?”
“She came back, did she not?”
“Aye, but only when her plan failed.” James raked his fingers through his hair. “There will be no truce. Not with the likes of her.”
“Perhaps if you fucked her, it might put you in a better mood.”
James wrapped his hand around his friend’s throat. Blood pounded in his ears at the statement, even as his cock ached in agreement.
“Say that again and I shall have you drawn and quartered.”
Smee grasped James’s wrist, pulling against the hold.
“Is that understood?”
His first mate nodded. James released him, and he gasped for air.
“If I said the same to you about Madame Tink, you would have my guts for garters.”
Smee’s eyes narrowed. “Aye, Captain.”
They held for a few tense seconds as the weight of understanding settled between them. With a nod, James clapped Smee on the shoulder.
“Take the helm. I need rest.”
“Aye, Captain.” Smee ventured away, rubbing his neck.
The sun was setting on the horizon as the two guards emerged from the hold. The dying sunlight caught her hair the moment she appeared. Her gaze skimmed the sky overhead before settling on him.
One of the guards nudged her toward his cabin. She pulled her gaze away, crossed her arms, and disappeared from view. They closed the door and turned, standing sentry.
How he longed to barge into that room and take her. Make her pay for her treachery with her body. Make her beg as he plundered her with his tongue and his cock. The whole ship would know of her pleasure when her cries rocked the timbers.
She would belong to him entirely.
With a shaky breath, James shook the temptation free and retreated to Mr. Smee’s small cabin, where he found no rest.