Page 18 of A Pirate's Pleasure

Lief

I emerged into the bright sunlight to find Zephyr and his quartermaster deep in conversation, the two of them transfixed by a flock of birds keeping pace with the ship. So engrossed were they that they didn’t even notice my presence until I stood right next to them. “Birds,” I said. “Don’t be scared. They’re much smaller than you are.”

The quartermaster turned and slowly looked me up and down, his lips quirking as he assessed my attire. He stuck his hand out for me to shake. “Whitby Brent.”

I took his hand, the calluses telling the story of a life spent hauling ropes and other menial tasks. “Lief Cooper.”

Whitby smiled. “Our resident fugitive, I know. I’ve heard all about you.” He said it with a sly glance in Zephyr’s direction that said Zephyr had done no such thing, that he’d remained as tight-lipped as ever. I liked Whitby immediately, and not just because he was the only one of Zephyr’s crew who’d given me the time of day so far, but because if he didn’t kowtow to Zephyr, that put him up in my estimation.

“Nice outfit,” Whitby drawled, his gaze lingering on my bare thighs. “The Cap’n’s shirt, I assume?”

I nodded. “My clothes were wet.” I aimed a glare in Zephyr’s direction. “I got caught in a rainstorm.”

Whitby laughed. “Funny that. I distinctly remember the barometer only forecasting pleasant weather yesterday.” He clapped Zephyr on the back. “Seems to happen a lot around this one, though. You gotta watch out for those freak storms.”

A muscle twitched in Zephyr’s cheek, but apart from that, he seemed determined not to play any part in the conversation. If I’d hoped my confession of the previous night, that leaving Glimmerfield and him along with it was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, would make any difference to his feelings toward me, it seemed I would remain disappointed.

He offered me only the briefest of glances before turning away. “I need to speak to Fletcher about our route. I suggest you get dressed. My deck has seen enough of your arse already.” On that note, he strode off.

“If you were that bothered,” I called after him while Whitby chuckled, “you would have brought my clothes to the cabin once they were dry.”

He halted mid-stride. “Contrary to popular opinion…” His pointed stare encompassed both Whitby and me in the statement. “You are not the first thing I think of when I wake. Or even the second or third. In fact, until you appeared on deck, I’d forgotten yesterday’s ill-conceived decisions entirely, and your existence along with them.”

Despite his words, I found myself smiling. And for good reason. “You’re forgetting, Zephyr Chase, that I know you. I know when you’re lying.” I tapped my index finger against my brow. “You get a little twitchy thing going on here. Always have, ever since you were a teenager. Which tells me you remembered full well that I was in your cabin. You were probably hoping the lack of clothes meant I’d stay there.”

I lifted my arms out to the side, the hem of his shirt riding up dangerously high. “Well, tough, because here I am.” I tipped my head back to the sky, the birds still overhead. “In fact, it’s such a nice day that I might stay like this.” I might have put on even more of a performance except Zephyr was already walking away, apparently having decided that the best way of dealing with me was not to deal with me at all. I lowered my arms, aware of more than one pair of eyes on me.

“Not the best day to antagonize him,” Whitby said.

“No?”

He shook his head. “Not with the food situation the way it is.”

I frowned. “Food situation?”

“We didn’t have time to resupply in Glimmerfield, what with our impromptu departure only a few hours after docking. Which leaves us with the need to resupply somewhere, and fast. Somewhere we can take on enough sustenance that we don’t all starve to death.”

I turned in a slow circle, taking in the miles of sea in all directions with no land in sight. “Zephyr forgot to mention that.”

Whitby laughed. “No surprise there. Not the most forthcoming of men is our Captain Chase, but then I’m guessing I don’t need to tell you that.”

“You don’t,” I admitted.

“And then there’s the bird thing,” Whitby said, tipping his head back to study the flock of seabirds once more.

“Yeah, what’s that about?” I asked. “They’re just birds.”

“Birds that have been with us for the past hour.”

I frowned. I was obviously missing something here. “So?”

Whitby crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you know about harpies?”

“Harpies?” His nod told me I hadn’t misheard him. I gave the question some thought. Most pirates had a story to share about them, but most were too ludicrous to give much credence to. There had been one or two that I’d heard during my teenage years spent in The Black Skull that had seemed authentic. Or at least the man telling the story had. I drew on that knowledge to answer Whitby’s question. “They’re a human/bird hybrid. Like a mixture of the two. Some human features, but with feathers and wings. They can fly and are quicker than they have any right to be. And then there’s the scream, of course. The one that’s said to be piercing and high-pitched enough to make a man’s ears bleed. I wouldn’t want to piss one off, that’s for sure.”

Whitby gave a wry smile. “You’re right there. You wouldn’t want to have one following you around, right?”

I tipped my head back and regarded the birds with fresh eyes. They were certainly sticking close to the ship. “What are you saying?”