Page 26 of A Pirate's Pleasure

“Then try harder to resist me. Or I’ll make you sleep on the deck.”

“I could sleep in the same spot where we first—”

“I swear that if you don’t stop talking and go to sleep, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“Going to zap me with lightning? You’ll set the cabin on fire.”

“You’re still talking.”

“I suppose you could pelt me with hail. It’ll make the bed wet when it melts, though.”

“Lief.” I didn’t even try to keep the pleading out of my voice. “Please go to sleep.”

Lief’s sigh echoed in the darkness. “Night, Zeph.”

I didn’t respond.

Chapter Eleven

Lief

The island we were approaching had no dock. That had left no option but to launch the rowboat to reach its shore. During the discussion about who would go on the resupplying mission, Zephyr had suggested I stay on board The Navarino. I’d suggested what he could do with that idea. Stay on board with his murderous crew while he was elsewhere? Not likely. In his absence, they could excuse too many things as an accident. I could imagine it as clear as day. Sorry, Cap’n, the fugitive must have fallen overboard while you were gone. No, nobody saw it. Of course, we searched for him once we realized he was missing, but it was too late. The riptide must have carried him off. Never mind. One less problem, right?

Zeph might not be my biggest fan. Especially after last night’s overreaction to me getting a little too close for his liking, but at least he didn’t want me dead. It wasn’t like I’d done it on purpose. The residual arousal from pressing myself up against him hadn’t exactly been enjoyable for me either, leaving me struggling to get back to sleep. Normally, I would have taken myself in hand and dealt with it that way, but I could only imagine Zephyr’s reaction to that if he’d caught me. It was likely he would have made good on his threat to force me to sleep on the deck, where exposure to the elements would have been the least of my problems. It was best not to rile him to where he’d say something both of us would regret.

There were two others in the rowboat besides ourselves, Boden, Zephyr’s boatswain, whose responsibilities included being in charge of supplies—no doubt he was keen for The Navarino to actually have some supplies that he could keep a close eye on—and Stafford, the ship’s first mate. Both men were swarthy, tattooed and identical on account of being twins. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Stafford was the one rowing us to shore, I would have struggled to know which was which, their identical clothing and hairstyles not helping matters, like they took great delight in confusing people.

Zeph had a spyglass to his eye and was using it to scrutinize the approaching shoreline. “What did you say this island was called?” I asked.

He didn’t look my way, continuing with his examination of what lay ahead. “The Welcome Isle.”

I let out a snort. “Who came up with that name for it? It couldn’t look less welcoming if it tried.” There was no lie in my words. I might not have been the one with the spyglass, but I didn’t need it to see the tall, rocky cliffs that made up most of the island. There was no green to be seen, unless you included the occasional bit of moss brave enough to grow in the rocky crevices. “What can you see?”

Zeph lowered the spyglass. “Not a lot.”

“So, how do you know there’s anything on this island apart from rocks and…” I stopped, stuck for anything else to say. “More rocks?”

“We don’t,” Zephyr said. “But it seemed a better option than just sitting around and waiting to starve to death.”

Our two companions treated me to a perfectly synchronized and identical in every way twinly snort. Ignoring them, I focused on Zeph. He’d foregone his coat today and rolled his shirtsleeves up to reveal tanned and muscular forearms. Coupled with his shirt being unfastened low enough that I kept getting a glimpse of nipple when he shifted position, it made him look good enough to eat. I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he doing it on purpose? Was he aiming to tease and torment me with what I’d thrown away? I wouldn’t put it past him.

“What’s that look for?” he asked.

“What look?”

The corner of his lips twitched. “The one that says you’re considering pushing me overboard.”

Not likely. Then I’d have a transparent, clinging shirt to deal with. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Zeph raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. The only sound for a few minutes was the rhythmic pull of the oars as Stafford navigated the rocks that lay close to the small cove.

“What are we hoping to find?” I finally asked.

“A tavern,” Zeph said. “With enough supplies to spare that we can offer an exorbitant amount of coin for a paltry amount. Enough to buy us time until we can find a better place.”

“Let’s hope we run into some easy pickings on our travels,” Boden said. “It’s been a long time since we scored a decent amount of plunder.”

“Oh, hell no,” I said. “Not while I’m on board.”