Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
I couldn’t see his expression, but that profile was etched permanently in memory. Straight nose, strong jaw, and a dark sweep of lashes over captivating gray eyes that could drill into the deepest, most private places of a woman’s being.
He wore a shadow of stubble on his face and the sides of his head. Strings of beads, thin braids, and long twisted locks wove through the silken mane of brown hair on top, all of which scraped back into a handsome queue.
His given name, Priest, wasn’t what it implied. Surrounded by lewdly dressed women, he was as ungodly and rakish as the doxies who draped their breasts about his shoulders.
With a single look, he could make a proper, God-fearing lady wet between her thighs. His unchristian temper was negligible once a woman set her gaze upon him. There was no man alive who could compete with the well-thewed musculature of his physique or the perfectly sculpted masculinity that shaped his features. He radiated godlike beauty, and he knew it.
When I’d fallen for him, it had happened hard and fast. I’d been as weak then as I was now. It physically hurt to be this close to him.
With my breath stuck in my throat, I backed into the crowd until the press of bodies engulfed my view. Fear ruled my heart rate, and self-preservation kept me moving.
Countless men sought to capture me, but Priest’s pursuit was personal.
He’d been hunting me for two years.
My pulse raced as I hurried toward the exit. A few paces from the door, I caught sight of my master gunner, Chops, who was named after the full sideburns that swallowed his narrow face.
I swept past him, pausing long enough to whisper, “We’re weighing anchor. Gather the others, or I’ll leave without them. Where’s Reynolds?”
“Outside.” He rose from the chair without question, responding to my urgent command just as he would on the ship.
I dashed out the door and found Reynolds leaning against the building with his lips fastened to the neck of a pretty blond girl.
Damn me to hell, my timing was horrible.
He lifted his gaze, sensing me instantly.
“He’s here,” I mouthed and took off.
I didn’t need to elaborate. The pounding of his footsteps caught up and stayed with me through the town, past the tents on the beach, and down the long stretch of the pier.
“Did he see you?” He gripped my arm, halting me at the first jolly boat.
Found you.
“Yes.” With a shiver, I peered out at the dark sea, wishing I could see Jade on the black horizon. “He’s toying with me.”
He released my arm and turned toward the moonlit shore. “I’ll kill him.”
“No.” My chest tightened. “My edict on that hasn’t changed.”
No matter how much I detested Priest, I wouldn’t survive his death.
“Very well.” He untied the boat tethers. “Get in. We’re not waiting for the crew. They can cram into the second jolly boat when they catch up.”
My hands trembled as I patted my hidden dimity pockets. My fingers found the hilt of my dagger, but my other pocket was empty.
Empty. Empty. Empty.
A gasp strangled in my chest. “My compass. It’s missing.”
“God’s blood, Bennett. How?”
He knew it had belonged to my father and that I treasured it above all else. But he didn’t know it was the only map in existence that led to Edric Sharp’s infamous treasure. I’d only ever told two people. Charles was dead, and that left…
“Priest.” My stomach sank. “In the tavern, he sneaked up on me from behind. He must have taken it then.”
“We’re leaving without it.” Reynolds grasped my waist and moved to lift me into the boat.
“No!” I pushed back and planted my feet onto the pier. “Release me at once!”
He jerked his hands back with a growl. “I overstepped.”
“Yes, you—”
Footsteps sounded behind me, the tread of a single pair of boots approaching from the shore.
Beads of sweat trickled between my breasts and gathered beneath the stays. I knew that lazy, arrogant gait. I feared it.
So did Reynolds.
“Get in the boat.” He removed the cutlass from the sash at his hips. “Please, Captain.”
Fastened on the shore, his eyes confirmed who was coming, and a war waged across his savage expression.
“I’m not leaving without my compass.” Pushing back my shoulders, I girded my spine and turned to face my biggest mistake.
A few paces away, the pirate leaned against a wooden post. His thumb hooked casually in the straps of leather that wound around his trim hips. His other hand hung at his side, dangling my compass by the chain.
Rancor battled longing. Scorn collided with sadness, and my outrage bowed beneath the helpless, banal attraction I’d always felt for him.
His brown breeches fit him like a glove, the threads molding around powerful thighs and the sizable bulge of his groin. His loose shirt tucked into multiple belts at his waist and laced up his chest to open at the neck. A strong neck, covered in scruff and sinew.