Page 3 of Immortal Pirates

It was an image he chose not to dismiss immediately, but to relish for a moment. His gums tightened pleasantly around his fangs.

All of the furnishings were bolted to the floor, as were the large table in the front of the room and the desk where, presumably, she would complete the ship’s log and any other writing or documentation necessary. The large table was covered with maps, a bottle of ink and several quills, and a stack of books. There were also a number of navigational tools strewn about: compasses, sextants, and an H4 chronometer.

“I already know why you’re here,” she said, folding her arms across her middle as Raine took refuge in the shaded part of the chamber.

With relief, he pulled off the hat and used his fingers to muss up his hair from where it had become plastered to his head by the hat and the perspiration gathering beneath it. Already he felt better, but he also divested himself of his greatcoat, tossing both onto a nearby chair.

“Do make yourself comfortable,” she said wryly as she glanced down at one of the maps, then, seemingly unconcerned by his presence, frowned and began to measure something with a sextant.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, suddenly feeling much more like himself. And much more in control.

He looked around the chamber, eyed the size of the bed—definitely large enough for two, even one of his height—and realized the windows had curtains on them.

He was also very aware of the constant tease of her scent, and the perfect outline of her sweet, round arse as she bent over the large table. He’d never considered the benefits of a woman wearing trousers before, but this was certainly one of them.

His blood was simmering again, and the gums around his fangs were swelling, ready to push them out. He felt unaccountably warm, and?—

“Don’t even think about it, St. Albans,” she said without looking up. “You’re a guest here—at my pleasure. I’m not going to be your afternoon tea.”

“What about my bedtime snack,” he murmured, suddenly very much sold on the idea. When she looked up sharply, he added, “You did mention something about pleasure.”

“If you keep that up, I’ll banish you to the crow’s nest,” she replied tartly. “At noon.”

He laughed, and it felt good. When was the last time he’d laughed? Certainly it had been months. Years. Perhaps even decades. And that was part of the reason he was here.

Raine collected his thoughts. “So you know who I am, and why I’m here. Corvindale, I presume?”

She gave a nod, made another brief measurement with the sextant, then noted it on a page in a book filled with writing. “He saw fit to advise me of your imminent arrival.”

Raine was tempted to ask how she knew Corvindale, and more importantly, how she was so familiar with the Dracule and their various afflictions—down to the fact that a sharp stake pointed toward the heart was a show-stopper—but he chose not to.

Instead, he noticed for the first time, as she was writing, that her rolled-up sleeve revealed a tattoo on the inside of her left arm. He couldn’t quite make out what it was, but…A woman with a tattoo. He found it fascinating, and more than a little arousing.

Dammit. His gums were swelling again. Not to mention other parts of him.

“I received Corvindale’s message nearly a month ago. Frankly, I’d expected you to arrive much sooner, St. Albans.The matter sounded far more urgent than you appear to be—er—taking it. Or did you simply take your time so as to enjoy a Caribbean holiday before getting to work? You wouldn’t be the first. Most Englishmen find it difficult to resist the sand, the surf—and of course the big, hot tropical sun?”

Raine smothered a laugh. “You are a witty one, Captain. Am I to understand you are, nevertheless, agreeable to assisting me? To track down theDevil’s Target?”

“Possibly.” She sat in a leather-upholstered captain’s chair that seemed to dwarf her petite figure and looked at him. “That’s a dangerous proposition, even for me and the crew of theBlack Lass. TheTargetis one of the fastest, sneakiest vessels on the sea. Not to mention dangerous. Captain Ajab has a reputation of being nearly as ruthless as I am.” Her pretty lips twitched. “What sort of remuneration can I expect?”

Raine admitted he was surprised that she seemed far more educated and erudite than most of the young ladies back in London—with the exception of Maia Woodmore, who, according to Corvindale, was just as fascinatingly infuriating as this female captain was turning out to be. She spoke well, did mathematical and navigational calculations, and was clearly captain in more than name.

And she smelled like ambrosia.

He could hardly keep his attention from drifting to the creamy white throat, bared by the neckline of her shirt, and the image that had been inked into her skin in the shape of…it seemed to be a bird of some sort. A raven perhaps?

“Remuneration?” he replied, his voice dropping low as he thought of how many different ways he could respond. “Well, captain, it depends what sort of remuneration you’d be seeking. There’s monetary, of course—the obvious one. But also political, for surely as the dreaded pirate of theBlack Lass, you coulduse some help in that area. There’s also the…er…privatesort of payback, if you will.”

He allowed the glow that had been banked in his eyes to smolder brightly once more. His breath was unsteady and his pulse pounded, and he was alone in a chamber with a woman whose very scent was like to driving him mad—and her mind and tart tongue were just as titillating. He had no doubt that whatever was under her clothing wouldn’t disappoint.

She wouldn’t mind. They never did. He made certain they enjoyed it as much as he did—if they even remembered. His fangs were halfway exposed, and he caught her bright eyes, holding those dark, gold-flecked ones, beckoning…tugging…luring.

She gave a soft sigh, hardly more than a puff of air. But to him it was the sound of victory, of acquiescence. Her gaze became slightly unfocused and she seemed to shudder deep inside.

“Shall I give you a taste of what I mean?” he murmured, drawing her closer with his powerful gaze. “And perhaps you might allow me a little sample as well.”

“I…” she breathed. Her eyes were fastened on his, her lush lips parted, and that spicy, intriguing, sea-tinged aroma that made up her perfume grew slightly stronger, as if it were a measure of her willingness and burgeoning arousal.Ahh, yes.