Chapter 9 #2
“That’s why you were so confident!” She bashed the bottom of her fist against the table to punctuate her words. “And here I was, thinking your arrogance was unfounded.”
“My arrogance is never unfounded,” he answered with humour. “I have chests buried across the seven seas, except for in the south.”
They were all small chests, ones that barely held much, but enough to save him if he somehow messed up.
“Why not the south?”
Alister liked the hint of curiosity in her voice, as well as the appreciative eye she gave him, even if she tried to hide it behind a sip of her rum.
He gave a shrug. “Haven’t sailed it much.”
“Because you’re after Dustin the Raider’s treasure.”
A scowl washed over him. “How did–?”
She gestured her hand towards his desk. “I went through every nook and cranny of this room. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what you’re after with all the crossed-out maps.”
It was true. Alister was after the Raider’s infamous hidden, and apparently vast, treasure. It was said to be a place rather than a hole he needed to dig, a cave filled to bursting with gold. He wanted – no, needed – to find it, own it, possess it.
He’d also sworn an oath to the previous captain before he died that Alister would prove it wasn’t a myth. Mad Dog had been laughed at for racing after it, and Alister was set on proving he was right.
“Aye.” He sighed, his visible eye closing in frustration that she’d figured it out. “That’s what I search for.”
“Fool.” She thrust the insult at him like a dagger. “Even I know only mad men chase after it.”
Alister let his usual cocky grin fill his face and leaned against the table once more. He tapped two fingers against his temple.
“Good thing I’m not right of mind, then, eh?”
He expected her to glare; instead, a smile curled her lips. She’d liked his comment, and he liked that look.
She’s a tempting woman. Her words danced with his like the tango of battle, sharp as the thrust of a sword. Her posture said she cared little about her predicament, as if she was confident she could scheme her way out of it.
Her piercing blue eyes weren’t afraid to hold his own, something most women shied away from. They didn’t often like his external appearance or his mean demeanour.
She was willing to go toe-to-toe with him.
“Surrender your crew to me,” he said gleefully, lightly slapping his hand against the table to punctuate his demand.
“Excuse me?” Her words sounded like they’d clogged in her throat, high-pitched and dumbfounded.
“Surrender your crew to me and I’ll head straight to port and let you go – alone.”
He was willing to offer this pretty little snake freedom for entertaining him so well.
She blatantly laughed at him.
“No way!” Her exclamation was followed by an adorable giggle of defiance before she sipped from her chalice. “You’re demented if you think I’ll give up so easily.”
“Between the two of us, we have lost valuable men. I won’t push my crew to the bone just to fly my sails.”
He was finally at why he’d called her in. Now that the formalities were over and he’d hopefully gained enough of her trust, he could be open about what he needed.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t what he wanted from her.
“I don’t care. I won’t hand over my men to you.” She narrowed her eyes and regarded him down her nose. “They’re mine.”
“I don’t keep long-stay prisoners, and I don’t sell men.” He wouldn’t waste his supplies, and he didn’t partake in human trafficking. “The men on my ship work for me, or they die.”
There was no in between. He wouldn’t make her the exception simply because she was a beautiful woman. Alister was a pirate, a killer, a criminal.
He was never the hero in anyone’s story.
“No. I won’t be separated from my crew.”
There was a desperate hint to the way her eyes widened for a moment, the way her brows twitched instead of frowning completely.
Her fleeting emotion faded, and she crossed her arms over her chest. It wasn’t done in defiance, not with the way her face was turned to the ceiling, like she was deep in thought.
She’s trying to think of a way out. He almost wanted to laugh at her.
“You have brought me to the perfect place to maroon you lot until your answer changes.”
The way her eyes slowly trailed to him with shock was delicious. She will learn that I’m cruel. She would come to fear him, as she rightfully should.
“I don’t even need to move the ship to push you into the water.
Tempest Island is well-known for where us pirates maroon men.
” He gave her the evillest grin he could muster, hoping to scare her just a little.
“Either your answer will change after five days, or their loyalty will fade with hunger and desperation. They will abandon the captain who allowed them to suffer.”
She threw her hands forward. “What if we help each other?”
“Come then, let me hear it.”
He made himself comfortable in his seat, wondering how she was going to try to bend him to her will. Would she resort to more trickery? He was rather excited to find out.
One of his brows raised when she rose from her seat and made her way over to him. His hand shot for her pistol, which was still cocked, and he pointed it at her. He slid his chair back so there was space to easily manoeuvre if needed.
She didn’t seem to care about his defensive posture, or the gun. She picked up his empty silver plate and threw it to the floor so she could sit in front of him on the table. It clattered against the ground, settling with a ringing ting.
Her knees knocked together between his, her hands back against the table while her bottom rested on the edge.
“Watch it,” he warned, turning the gun from her torso to her face. “I don’t particularly trust you.”
“I’ll help you get more men, your own, if you help me get a particular ship.”
Alister’s eyes crinkled deeply as a laugh grew in his chest.
“I don’t help charity cases, lass.” He relaxed in his chair, sprawling in it like a lazy noble.
He rested the elbow of the hand holding the gun on the armrest once more.
“I’m not the kind of man who steals from the rich to give to the poor.
I don’t care who suffers in this world, as long as it’s not me. ”
“But–”
“Nay,” he replied with a scowl.
She kicked both her legs forward, the bottom of her boots hitting the corners of the armrests. Her legs were spread directly in front of him, and the way she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees allowed him to see directly into her opened tunic, down to her bare stomach.
It was still enough to cover her breasts, but the dip in her body meant he could see the inner parts of those mounds. They were round, pale in comparison to the tanned skin of her upper chest, and just begging to be touched.
There was nothing to strap them down, and they jiggled in the tunic, catching his attention as he tried his damn hardest not to look. He was rather envious some of his men had seen them and he hadn’t.
He quickly looked back up at her face before he was caught.
“Why not?” she asked sweetly, her lips pouting more than usual.
“Why should I do anything to help you?”
Her perfume caught in his nose with how close she was: sweet-smelling flowers that reflected nothing about the harsh woman in front of him. She was a devious bitch, smart enough to use wiles against stupid men, and he considered being a stupid man for a moment.
His hardening cock was begging him to.
“Is there nothing you want from me?” Slowly, like approaching a feral animal, she reached her hand out. She touched her fingertips to the dark hair of his chest, revealed by his own white tunic. “I can get you another map of Dustin’s treasure, one you don’t have.”
That was the problem with Dustin’s cave of loot. There were many fake maps, and he’d been chasing them all down, going to each location just to find it had been another empty lead.
“You cannot promise things you don’t have.”
Her touch was surprisingly gentle, her fingertips trailing up his chest until she was brushing them over the side of his neck.
“But I know they are on the ship I want.”
“Pretty lies,” he huffed out, his voice almost cutting off when she brushed over his jugular – not because he was worried she’d injure somewhere so vital, but because the tickling sensation made his breath catch.
He pressed the barrel of the pistol under her chin in a blatant threat. She seemed to understand he didn’t mind her touch; he just didn’t want her to attack him.
Her hand came back down to finger the thin silver chain around the base of his neck. She followed it until she found the pendant high on his sternum. He felt the metal go from warm to cool as she flipped it to look at the other side.
When she lifted it carefully to inspect the writing on it, his free hand shot forward to wrap around her wrist.
She gave him a small smile, her blue eyes holding his singular one as she moved her hand away. “Surely you wouldn’t strand a poor, helpless woman on an island with only men.”
“Maroon.” He nearly gasped when she slipped her hand inside his tunic to palm his chest, precariously brushing one of his nipples. When it happened again, he knew she was doing it on purpose.
“And aye,” he said with more confidence, his momentary stutter fading. “I would.”
“What if they hurt me?”
She was trying to convince him he was putting her in harm’s way when she was the actual danger. She wasn’t a helpless woman, and they both knew it.
“Then you don’t truly trust your men, do you?” He cocked his brow at her mockingly. “Surrender them to me if they are so terrible. I do like them rotten.”
He needed her to cave, to have her men take his command.
They would obviously fight to the death in protest unless she told them not to.
He could kill them, but then sailing this large ship would be a struggle not even Alister could handle with the number of men he had left. It was all because of her.