Page 29 of A Pirate's Pleasure

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Page 29 of A Pirate's Pleasure

I turned with a glare to find that someone had joined us at the table. He sat there as casual as you like, one ankle hitched across the opposite knee, his fingers interlocked over the top of them. He was striking in appearance, with long dark hair swept back from a strong brow, and intelligent brown eyes. His lips were full, the slight curve to them seeming to indicate he smiled a lot. His clothes were simple, but no less elegant for it, molding themselves to his lean frame like a glove.

He might be pretty to look at, but that didn’t stop my annoyance from simmering over. “Do you think you could find your own table to sit at? This one’s taken. And we’re busy.”

“I see that,” he said, but made no move to get up. His gaze slid over to Zephyr, who now I came to think about it had gone rather still at my side. “Hello darling,” the stranger said. “You’ve proven most elusive since last we met, but I knew I’d catch up with you, eventually. I did not, however, anticipate finding you with another man when that happened.” His gaze slid back my way, the hint of fondness sliding off his face to be replaced by something colder, something darker, malevolence seeping from him despite his relaxed posture.

“Lucretius,” Zephyr said, confirming what I’d already worked out.

This was the harpy. The ‘man’ that the great Zephyr Chase, who had a reputation for being scared by nothing and no one, had been running from. And while he didn’t seem to bear a grudge against his errant lover, the same couldn’t be said for me. Hardly surprising really when he’d caught me kissing the man he’d decided was his. Fuck!

Chapter Twelve

Zephyr

There’d been no birds above the ship this morning. It was one reason a detour to The Welcome Isle had seemed like the right decision, Whitby and I agreeing that a link between the birds and the pursuing harpy had either been nothing but paranoia, or that he’d given up.

But here he was, just as fresh-faced as that fateful night when I’d first met him and had thought I was scratching an itch. An itch that never seemed to go away completely. Not since Lief had chosen wealth and luxury over me.

And of all the times to find me, he’d had to choose the one time when I was with someone else, and with Lief of all people. I didn’t like the way he was looking at him. It reeked of Lucretius fantasizing about tearing him into little pieces. He would see him as a rival. Someone that stood in the way of his delusions of the two of us being together. An obstacle that needed removing.

I lifted my head to scan the tavern. Where earlier there’d been three people, now there were only two. The tavern keeper, who seemed preoccupied by something outside the window and couldn’t have looked any less interested in the man who’d just strolled into his tavern, and another man sitting in the corner who seemed very much in his cups if the slight sway of his body and his bleary eyes were anything to go by. There would be no help from either quarter.

We couldn’t make a bolt for The Navarino. Not without it involving a great deal of swimming, which would leave us vulnerable in the water, and I wasn’t sure whether Lief had enough stamina to make it that far, anyway. Which left us with few choices open to us. Maybe I’d judged Lucretius harshly, and I could reason with him, make him see that there were far more suitable men in the world for him, men who would be glad to find themselves the focus of an all-encompassing affection, and wouldn’t run from it. Men who didn’t compare every sexual interlude and every conversation they had with an eligible man to a teenage love that had never completely died.

The kiss had just proved that. All my denials, all my belief that the only feelings I harbored toward Lief were negative ones, washed away by a complex mixture of lust and… yes, love. I still loved Lief in every way which mattered. It was why I’d saved him. It was why I’d put up with him sharing my cabin rather than making him sleep on the deck. And it was why I’d worked so hard to keep a distance between us. Until the ale had numbed my good intentions. It was also why I’d die before I’d let an enraged harpy rip him into tiny pieces.

“It’s good to see you, Lucretius,” I lied. It had the desired effect, his focus switching from Lief and back to me.

“Is it?” He tipped his head to one side and studied me in a way that was distinctly bird-like, which I guess made sense now that I knew what he was. “Why did you run from me then, Zephyr? Why make me chase you? And why, when I finally catch up with you, do I find you with another man?” His gaze flicked back to Lief before returning to me.

Thankfully, Lief was sensible enough to stay quiet. His hand had crept beneath the table, though, no doubt heading toward his boot and the knife that lay within it. I had a dagger at my waist, too, but I wasn’t convinced it would do much good against Lucretius. Since our initial encounter, I’d found out everything I could about harpies, none of the news good and only compounding what I’d already known: that they were formidable opponents.

“Why did I run?” I rolled a few answers around in my head, searching for the most plausible one. The one that wouldn’t flip the switch into rage and make Lucretius transform.

“Commitment,” Lief said, coming to my rescue. “It’s the one thing that scares Zephyr Chase. He’s a lone wolf. A man who is married to his ship and his crew. A man who would rather indulge in a succession of one-night-stands than build anything meaningful.” He was getting a little too creative for my liking now. “A man who doesn’t know the meaning of the word love, who—”

“I think he gets it,” I said.

It was too late, though, Lucretius’ attention already pulled back to Lief. He leaned forward to study him closely, Lief doing well not to twitch beneath the prolonged scrutiny. “You sound like you know him well?”

Lief tipped his chin up, and I inwardly cursed him for his inability to appear meek. Now wasn’t the time for stubbornness. “We’ve been friends since we were teenagers.”

“But we haven’t seen each other for a very long time,” I added quickly. “We’re barely acquaintances now.”

Lucretius slid his leg off his knee to put both feet back on the floor, both Lief and I stiffening in anticipation of what it might lead to. I wriggled my fingers, the magic gathering in my fingertips, ready to be used if need be. It wasn’t ideal to use inside; buildings never fared well from its effects. But I’d use it if I had to, and to hell with it being The Welcome Isle’s one and only tavern. They’d just have to build another one.

Lucretius’ gaze slid back to me. The abrupt switch in temperament from warm and humorous when he looked at me to cold and venomous when his gaze fell upon Lief was jarring. “You need to return with me to my island,” he said. “I won’t let you walk away from me twice. I shouldn’t have let you do it the first time.”

It seemed we weren’t playing around any longer. “And if I don’t?”

“You will. You must. You are my chosen. The love of my life.”

I picked my words carefully, my fingers digging into my thigh. “We barely know each other. That night, the one where we met, we’d had what, two or three conversations before we rolled into bed together. And I can’t even remember what we talked about, which doesn’t point toward it having been anything that meaningful. That’s hardly the basis for a lasting relationship.”

“You are mine. You are my destiny. You claimed me and now you must keep me.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, but Lief spoke before I could. “I guess I don’t have to ask who fucked who, then.”

“Lief,” I warned him, hoping my tone said not to antagonize Lucretius without the need to put it into words.




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