Page 80 of A Pirate's Pleasure
Lief leaned in, his words for my ears only. “I don’t think we’ll have any more problems with him.”
“No,” I agreed, pulling him close enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I don’t think we will.”
“We’re taking the sailor, right?” Lief asked.
“And if he doesn’t want to be a pirate?”
“Then we find him another ship. A better one than this one. One where he can keep the skin on his back.”
Lief always having a solution to any problem was just one of many things I loved about him. “Yes, we’re taking him.” Truth be told, it had already been my intention. Just another example of us seeing things the same way.
Lief
Glimmerfield
It felt like a lifetime since I’d last seen The Black Skull. How long had it been? Five months? Six? Not that long, but long enough for me to have changed a lot from the fugitive who’d taken up residence here while waiting for Zephyr to show his face. It didn’t look any prettier, Dax not having done anything to the place in the past few months, or ever really, so I didn’t know why that would be a surprise. I peered through the grimy window, the place busier than I could ever remember seeing it. But then there had been at least two or three other pirate ships in dock.
“No tables,” I said as Zeph came to join me.
“Wait,” he said. “Watch.”
Whitby opened the door as Zephyr summoned a funnel of wind. Once it had picked up enough leaves, he sent it barreling into the building. A few seconds of nothing, and then half the clientele got up to leave. It was the same phenomenon as I’d witnessed on that first night. Only, back then, I’d assumed it was accidental, that something had raised Zeph’s ire and caused his magic to leak. Knowing Zephyr as I did, I should have known better.
“Plenty of tables now,” he said with a smile. We led the way with Zeph’s crew bringing up the rear. There were indeed plenty of tables now. Even more possibilities opened up as we entered, some of the remaining pirates deciding to drain the last dregs of their foul-tasting ale and be on their way. Presumably, there were things that needed checking back on the ship. “I don’t know,” I said. “You freeze a man and shatter him into a million pieces and people get the wrong idea.”
“I’m very misunderstood,” Zeph said.
“You are,” I agreed. “But you’re lucky.”
Stormy gray eyes came to rest on my face. “I am?”
I smiled at him, the rest of the room ceasing to exist. “Yeah, you are, because I understand you perfectly. Always have. Always will.”
Zeph inclined his chin in recognition of my point. “In that case, I’m the luckiest man alive.”
I led the way to the bar, Dax regarding us with narrowed eyes and not a hint of friendliness. But then what was new? The day Dax was friendly toward me was the day I’d assume he was ailing for something.
“A bottle of your finest rum,” I said.
“Don’t do rum.”
I sighed. “Seriously? Are we still going to pretend that?”
His one good eye roved over me, taking in the gold hoop earring in my ear and my clothes.
“Dax,” Zeph said, a great deal of amusement present in his voice. “Rum, please, if you’d be so kind. We’ve got things to celebrate, and we can’t do that with your sorry excuse for ale.”
Dax crossed his arms over his chest, his beefy biceps bulging. “Oh, did ‘e say rum? It’s ‘ard to understand ‘im, what with that plummy accent of ‘is.”
Zeph chuckled. I didn’t, choosing to roll my eyes instead. “He has a name.”
Ignoring me, Dax turned and disappeared into the back room.
“He likes you,” Zeph said. “He’s always liked you.”
I stared at him incredulously. “He has a funny way of showing it.”
Zeph shrugged, one corner of his mouth pulling up. “That’s just Dax’s way, and you of all people should know that. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t even breathe the same air as you.” He glanced at the door Dax had disappeared through, but it was still closed. “He wouldn’t have given you refuge here when you were a wanted man, and he certainly wouldn’t have come and woken me in the middle of the night to tell me he’d just let soldiers in.”