Page 3 of A Pirate's Pleasure
The voice was still the same, which was jarring, hidden as it was behind weeks of beard growth. His accent was a little posher perhaps, but the influence of his mother had always had him being well spoken. His eyes were the same as well, giving the sea a run for its money for the most beautiful shade of blue. Even the dark shadows under them couldn’t detract from that. “It’s been a long time,” I said. “Crews change. How long has it been?”
“Eight years,” he said without hesitation. “You look good, Zeph.”
Zeph! Lief was the only person who’d ever shortened my name. The only person who’d ever dared to. In times gone by, I’d liked it. It had been proof of the intimate bond we’d shared. Now, though, it was like a knife in the heart. “Zephyr,” I corrected with a hard stare. “My name is Zephyr.” I took another swig of the rum, the alcohol doing its job in easing the tight feeling in my chest.
Lief nodded in acknowledgment of my point. “Zephyr,” he stated. “Sorry. Force of habit. I suppose I’m lucky you’re not making me call you Captain Chase.” If I’d thought of it, I probably would. He waved a hand at the bottle of rum I’d already made a considerable dent in. “Going to share?”
“Not with you.”
He winced. “I guess I deserve that.”
“I don’t think we should get into what you deserve.”
“Dax told me you wouldn’t be pleased to see me.”
I stared at him coldly. “You needed Dax to tell you that?”
Lief’s gaze strayed back to the window. “Not really. I already knew you wouldn’t exactly be overjoyed.” His lips twisted into a parody of a smile. “After all, no one could ever accuse you of being the forgiving type, could they?”
I assumed he didn’t expect an answer to his question, so I didn’t provide one. No, I wasn’t the forgiving type, but then I wasn’t the type who’d done a lot of things that I’d done with Lief, and he knew that. There’d been a time when he’d known me inside out. It hadn’t stopped him from walking away, though. And even eight years later, it still stung. “Why have you crawled back here, Lief?”
One chestnut-brown eyebrow lifted slightly. “Crawled?”
I waved a hand at his less than sparkling attire, his shirt even sporting a hole just below the collar. “I assumed that accounted for your general state of filth. I can smell you from here.”
Lief sat forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing in a demonstration of annoyance I remembered only too well. “Do you think I’m going to take hygiene tips from a pirate, of all people?”
I smoothed a hand over my jaw, my cleanly shaven jaw because I’d shaved only yesterday. At the same time as I’d taken a bath in a rainstorm. “You probably should. I seem to be maintaining far higher standards than you, Lord Cooper.”
I meant the name as a jibe, and it found its mark, a muscle twitching in Lief’s cheek. “You always knew what to say to wound.”
I laughed. “And yet, you could never stay away, could you?”
A rush of color joined the twitching muscle. It was nice to know that one thing hadn’t changed. It was still just as easy to get under Lief’s skin. Maybe even easier. “I was young and naïve.”
The meaning beneath his words was clear, even if he didn’t go as far as saying it, that he hadn’t known any better. “You and me both.”
He let out a snort. “You might have been young, Zephyr.” He put extra emphasis on my name to make sure I recognized the effort he was going to in using the extra syllable. “But you were never naïve.”
“You think I was born with great wisdom? That’s very sweet of you to say.”
“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. “What would you like me to put in your mouth?”
The slight tinge of color in Lief’s cheeks became scarlet, and the deep breath he took in was decidedly unsteady. It was good to see that I could still have that effect on him. I wouldn’t touch him if he was the last man in all thirteen kingdoms, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take delight in having power over him. Even if it was only the power to make his cock hard against his will. The only downside was it having the same effect on me. I took another swig of rum in celebration, anyway “What are you doing here, Lief? Did you think enough time had passed that we could take a delightful trip down memory lane together? Is this a pilgrimage so you can celebrate just how far you traveled from such lowly roots?”
He shook his head. “No. Far from it.”
“What is it then?” I asked. “Because I have things to do. Things that are far more important than catching up with an old…” I considered what the most cutting way of ending that sentence was. “…acquaintance.”
“An acquaintance?” Lief laughed, but there was little humor in it. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Be thankful I’m bothering to give you the time of day. Most people wouldn’t dare requisition my time like this.”
“I know that,” Lief said. “Big, scary Zephyr Chase. The man who can end you simply by lifting a finger.” His gaze drifted to the window as if he’d expected a demonstration of that very fact, like I was a performing monkey meant to do his bidding. When I didn’t, his gaze came back my way. “I need your help, Zeph.”
I was too surprised by his words to pick him up on the use of my shortened name again. He reached for the rum bottle and this time I let him have it. Tipping his head back, he glugged mouthful after mouthful, his throat contracting as he swallowed it. Once he’d drunk his fill, he screwed his face up. “That tastes almost as bad as the ale.” I waited without comment. Eventually, he sighed. “The authorities are after me. They followed me from Silkdrift. I stayed ahead of them, but it was a close-run thing at times. I gave them the slip in Bellpond, but it’s only a matter of time before they work out I’m here. I’ve been here three days waiting for you to show, so perhaps they already have and they’re just working out the best way to gain entrance without raising the ire of a bunch of pirates. And I suppose it’s difficult to keep pretending they don’t know this place exists once they’ve been inside it.”