Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Every soul I’d ever shown the map to had reacted the same way. Either pity gleamed in their eyes, or the fear and revulsion of someone watching a shipwreck. The sight made grown men go pale and women scream. I’d once had a physician vomit on my boots after a particularly brutal killing spree.
Corynne Godwin studied the curse on my back like I was a phenomenon at the end of her telescope rather than a cold-blooded murderer holding her captive on his ship.
Her breathing slowed, and I looked over my shoulder to see those deep-brown eyes narrowing to slits as she stared.
My skin prickled as her breath ghosted over the surface of my skin.
Without warning, she stepped back and began pacing, the boards creaking under her feet. I felt the air shift every time she passed, and shift again when she stopped and let her hand hover over me once more. Always so close, but never touching.
“What does it lead to?” she asked. “This map?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“None of my concern,” she repeated, that irritating edge of incredulity coloring her tone. “You’ve kidnapped me, locked me in a cage, and stripped in front of me. All so I can read this map on your back and it is none of my concern as to where it leads to?”
“Correct.” I’m not sure why I expected that to be the end of the conversation. Any other person would have cowered, but not Corynne.
She made a sound in the back of her throat, something between a laugh and a curse before going back to pacing. “Of course,” she grumbled. “Decode this map and take me to the end where all the beasties are prepared to eat you, Corynne. And all for what? A bit of coin? A treasure that never existed?”
“Are you…” Was she? “Are you talking to yourself?”
Corynne stopped and threw me a look that could have sliced through stone. “And if I am? Perhaps I prefer talking to myself, since all you do is growl and grumble like a caveman.”
Were it in me to laugh, I may have done so. Instead, I returned her stare with the same intensity. Those eyes narrowed again.
After a minute, she said, “My journal.”
“What about it?”
“Give me my journal and I’ll read your map.”
“Read my map, or I’ll throw you overboard, Beastie.” The name came out unbidden, and I had to bite my tongue to avoid the unexpected smile from lifting the corner of my lips.
She gasped, one hand clutching around the non-existent sea pearls draping her neck. “You dare call me a beast? Your manners are abominable!”
That was enough mouthing off for me. If she kept flirting like this, I wouldn’t be able to trust any amount of control I had left around her.
I turned and advanced on her until she was backed into the dresser against the wall.
Baubles rattled as her back hit it, and the defiance in her eyes still creeping past the fear made my cock stir in my trousers.
I was supposed to be shutting her up to make this easier on myself. Instead, I had her cornered right where I fucking wanted her.
I lifted a lock of hair to my nose, inhaling her honey-sweet scent. “My manners are impeccable. Do you know why?”
She swallowed, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Why is that?”
“Because on my ship,” I said low, letting a growl slip into my words as I leaned in until our noses touched.
“I decide what the rules are and what manners this crew abides by. You’re in my world now, Miss Godwin, and there is no room for ladies in it.
I am no gentleman and it would be deadly for you to mistake me as such.
Now be a good girl and follow Finch to the brig before I show you just how well-mannered I am. ”
She yelped as I cupped her ass and the shape of it in my hand sent a thrill skating down my spine, and everything inside of me called for more. Her scent thickened in the air, those brown eyes widening as her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath lingering between us.
I could have her. She was right here. Though there was fear in her eyes, it was nowhere near as prevalent as the lust glazing them. I could reach between her thighs and, gods, I’d bet it all that she was so fucking wet for me—
“Finch!” I called out, lunging back and throwing my shirt back on before the door swung open. “Please escort Miss Godwin back to the brig. She’s decided she can no longer be of service and therefore is of no use to me.”
The distance between us cleared some of the fog blinding me of my purpose here. I could not have Corynne Godwin. Not yet.
Finch grabbed her by the arm. She looked between us as he pulled, that cold calculation ever-present in her gaze.
“Take her back to port and give her back to the Crown and Compass,” I ordered.
“Wait,” she called out as he gave her a yank. “I’ll do it.”
I lifted a hand, and Finch stopped in his tracks.
“Do what?” I asked, wanting to make things as difficult as possible for her, because after tonight, I knew she was going to make my life a living hell. Corynne Godwin was going to be a challenge. One I believed I was going to enjoy as long as she didn’t ruin me first.
“Read your bloody map,” she ground out and tugged against his hold.
She was a fighter, and gods knew I loved it. There was nothing sweeter than the chase.
I waved Finch away and, once we were alone, queried, “And what would you like in return?”
“You didn’t seem too open to negotiations earlier.”
“I’m not, just curious as to what you think you’re entitled to.”
“I am entitled to something,”
“And what makes you think that?” I threw back.
“Because you’ve been on this sea for how long and have yet to find someone who could read that map? You need me, else you wouldn’t have taken me in the first place.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
Corynne scoffed, and I wanted to punish her for that little sound.
“My journal,” she said, ignoring the tension that stayed ever-present between us. “I want it back.”
“No,” I answered plainly. “Ask for it again and it will meet the depths.”
The sides of her button nose scrunched as her lip twitched. She crossed her arms over her chest as if trying to stop herself from strangling me. I rather wished she would. I could use a bit more entertainment for the night.
“Then parchment and ink. I’ll need something to take notes with, both for what I’m seeing and my hypotheses. Not to mention the current standing of the constellations in accordance with—”
“Fine,” I waved a hand hoping she would stop. I didn’t need the hows and whys. I just needed results.
That proud nose of hers turned up a bit, and I found myself wondering what was going on inside her head.
Did she think she’d won something? A bit of parchment and a quill were hardly a win in this game.
Damned if I wanted her to know that, though.
She may try to fight for more, and my patience was starting to wear thin the longer she was in here.
“And I want out of that damned brig. It’s cold and damp, way too uncomfortable and unsuitable for a lady.”
I sighed and crossed over to the desk, ignoring that request. I’d be damned if she was sleeping anyway near my crew, and there was no way that I could trust myself to keep her in my quarters.
She was safest in the brig. I pulled out a stationery kit from the drawer and laid it out on top.
“You work in here, but you stay in the brig until you’ve given me something worth trading for. ”
She was quiet for so long that I wondered if she had a stroke. Finally, she stepped up beside me and fingered the parchment on the desk.
“I should quite like to know your name. It’s the least you can tell me along with what sort of map I’m decoding and why?” Corynne’s eyes met mine, and I noticed the gold swirling in the deep brown there. “What does it lead to?”
“My name is Captain Silas Draven to you, Beastie. And as for the map, that’s not your concern.”
She sighed and picked up the quill, turning it over in her hands before touching its sharp point.
“I’ll need to know eventually. It’s going to correspond with a time of day or night, possibly even a past or future date.
The positions, progressions, and the unknown surrounding our future findings…
” She pulled the desk chair out and sat, uninvited.
“So, you can tell me now and make my life easier, or you can tell me in a week when I’ve hit a wall and we’ve wasted each other’s time. It’s up to you, captain.”
Corynne said my title like it was an insult to her presence. She sat in my chair, quill in hand, foot tapping as if she were in charge of this ship and I was nothing more than an irritating beast taking up her time.
Fine. If she wanted the truth, then I would give it to her.
“The Stella Mortis.”