Amicia Spicer would make a fine conquest, and he pursed his lips as he considered his chances of getting next to her for the evening, or even a few if he were lucky. The other men would visit the brothel, but for Piers, there was no greater thrill than the feel of flesh that had been given freely and not paid for. He wanted that from her if he could have it. Nodding to himself, he considered what it might take to get it.
Crossing the planks with a clip in his step, he greeted Reynard warmly. “How was our guest today?” The younger man had been playing chaperone for her and Bally since dawn and had done a right fine job of it, or so it would appear.
“She was good, actually,” Rey laughed, turning to follow him up to the top level. “A perfect angel, she was,” he nodded, not making any mention of their wayward conversation.
“Wonderful to hear,” the Mate said with a wave of his hand over his shoulder. “We’ll need you to deliver our dinner this evening.”
“Aye, sir,” his crewman agreed.
Skirting the side via the narrow path, the pair climbed the stairs, and Piers announced loudly, “Baldwin, take care of our lady’s murphy. She’ll be needing it this evening, I’m sure. Then, you lads have earned a night off. See yourselves into town, but don’t get into any trouble. We make sail at first light, don’t forget.” His voice robust, he winked at her when he had finished speaking, and he noted the glow his attention gave her, bolstering his nerve.
Laughing loudly, the duo didn’t hesitate, as they each had work to do before they could leave the ship. Watching them go, Piers briefly thought about the brothel and the women they would find there. They would have exactly what they wanted, bought and paid. He, on the other hand, would earn his conquest if he were to have one. The promise of his prize made his heart skip a beat, inwardly excited at the thrill of the hunt that lay in store for the evening.
Turning to her, he spoke to Ami in a different, lighter tone, “Did you enjoy your day out?”
“I did!” she replied, her smile broad. “Bally showed me the map of the world.” She sounded extraordinarily happy, her fingers tracing the line of islands on the west, the ones she had been warned against. “It was a nice day,” she said more quietly, with a small nod.
Joining her, he fished, “You like him.” That could put a crimp in his plans if it were true.
“As a brother, I suppose,” she said wistfully. Looking up, her gaze caught his, and she demanded, “You mean as something more?”
Relieved, Piers swallowed and modulated his tone. “He’s a nice kid. He or Rey either one would make a suitable husband one day, if you could get them off this ship,” he laughed, breaking their connection to indicate the map. “I’ve sailed most of these waters,” he stalled, bragging a little at his experience as a seaman.
“And what about you?” she challenged, raising her chin and sticking to the point. “Will you make a suitable husband one day?”
“I’m afraid not, love,” he said in a quieter voice. “Not much in it for a salty old sea dog like me.”
Meeting her stare, he held the smile, imagining her bare skin the night he had dressed her wounds. He would like to see her again by the soft glow of his cabin’s flame now that she had healed. But, unlike his crew, he did mind the screams. If he were to have her, she would need to volunteer. “Dinner?” he asked, offering her his arm.
Ami had enjoyed the Mate’s company. Something about him felt different from the others, and she wished she could draw out their time together. She knew parting him with his beloved boat would be unlikely, but they could enjoy the return trip to Nalen, nonetheless. She accepted the appendage, and they retired to his quarters, where Bally and Rey had already been and gone. Her pot clean, their dinner sat on the table, and the light on the wall burned, casting its soft glow across the chamber. Only tonight, the flicker seemed sad, as if something hung over them, ready to smother their budding relationship.
Ignoring the shadow that the small flame produced, Ami sat in one of the chairs and began selecting her share of the meal. “You don’t fancy a trip into town with the others?” Somehow, it pleased her that he had chosen to forgo the tradition and spend his night with her. “I’m sure I would be fine for a few hours without you,” she coaxed.
“Oh, no,” he replied.
He shook his dark hair as he joined her, and she noticed that his customary knot had been removed to reveal long dark waves that hung a few inches past his shoulders. “I didn’t realize your hair was so long!” she observed in surprise, not accustomed to seeing it on the men from town.
“Of course,” he grinned, “all sailors grow out their hair. It’s a tradition,” he laughed. A bottle of wine in his hand, he presented it to her to view, placing it on the table as he observed, “This is the first meal we’ve had alone. We might as well enjoy it.” Lifting the beverage, he extracted the cork and poured a bit in her small metal cup.
“Where did you get that?” she asked airily, surprised by the gesture.
“I’ve had it,” he grinned. “I’ve been saving it, in a manner of speaking.”
“Don’t tell me you’re wasting your special bottle on me,” she gasped, her face taking on a soft flush.
“Oh, no!” he laughed loudly, admiring her stained cheeks. His confidence strong, he felt certain she would be willing when the time came, if he were patient enough to continue his stroking of her desire. “I have a whole crate of them, actually. I break one out every time I get a beautiful young woman into my cabin,” he boasted.
“I suppose you get one every trip,” she grinned, suspecting the contrary and nibbling at her bread and cheese as she watched him covertly. He had been her favorite of the three men since she had moved into his cabin, and his showering of attention had unnerved her, to say the least.
Shrugging slightly, he confessed, “Not as often as a man might like.” Gulping his cup of wine, he grinned, his brown eyes shining with desire.
“So, what happened to you?” she persisted. “How’d you end up sailing back and forth across the ocean, instead of having a wife and a brood of young ones?”
Helping himself to another cup of the wine, he sighed, “That’s a long story, Ami my dear, and not necessarily a good one.”
“Good is in the eye of the beholder,” she pushed eagerly, yearning to know him more deeply.
Stopping his movements, he stared at her, then asked, “Why do you want to know? In a few weeks, we’ll have you back in Nalen, and you’ll be off on another ship, in search of that place where you belong.” Resuming serving himself, he could sense her mood as it changed, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “What did I say?”
“I don’t know,” she panted, on the verge of tears. “It’s not you, I swear it.” She tried to smile, failing in the cause. “My mum said that to me, before she passed.”
“Said what to you?” he asked as he sat up straighter, forgetting his loins for a moment and genuinely concerned that he had upset her. “Ami, I’m sorry –”
She held up her hand, cutting him off. “Follow your dreams to the place where you belong, that’s what she said. I’m not sure what she meant, but I feel like I’m being drawn… somewhere.” A tear trickled over and she swiped at it quickly. “That’s why I left Nalen. To search for it,” she whispered, her heart vulnerable in a way it had never been.
She had never made plans with Rupert. Perhaps knowing him all of her life had taken some of the mystery out of it and had stolen the magic between them. Being close to Piers, excitement roiled within her, like the flame she had felt when she realized she must travel to a new world that would be her home. Something about him suited her, and by his actions that evening, she suspected he might actually feel the same; if she didn’t frighten him away.
“Oh, Ami,” he breathed, pulling at her and enjoying the feel of her against his broad chest. “Amicia Spicer, I knew I could see it in you. When I saw you coming up the dock before you ever got to me, I knew.” He pictured her strut, with her long skirt swishing ab
out her ankles, and could hardly contain his desire. Kneading her arms and back with his palms, he groaned.
“What did you see?” she simpered, comforted by the strength of his hold on her.
“That fire, that burning from within. Bright as the sun, you are, or as a star shooting across the sky,” he whispered into her hair.
“I’m not the sun or a star,” she chuckled, amused by his seemingly sensitive demeanor. “You surprise me, Mate,” she informed him softly, her hand toying with his shirt as he held her. Her resolve felt paper-thin, and forgetting that he was a sailor, she could imagine having him to comfort her all the days of her life.
Releasing her, he stammered, leaning back into his chair. “I surprised you? What, with this?” he opened his palms. “You needn’t be surprised by any of this. I thought you might be in the mood for a bit of wooing, that’s all.”
“Wooing,” she giggled, thinking of Rupert and his repeated proposals for a moment. “Wooing is good, I suppose.”
Somehow, her expression didn’t convince him, and he could feel his opportunity to get more familiar with her slipping away. Lifting his cup, he made a toast to her. “To Ami. May she find the place where she belongs.”
Lifting her own, she seconded the toast, but an awkwardness settled over the couple. They each had wants and desires from the other, but neither of them had expressly stated them. That left a lot of room for doubt on both sides of the table.
They ate in utter silence until all of the food had been devoured and the wine bottle half emptied. Then, the girl stood and went over to the bed she had been enjoying since her discovery on board. “I never thanked you,” she said, turning to sit on the shelf and face him. “I should have. Thank you for all that you have done for me.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Ami,” he replied, whispering her name. “I started out as a crewman,” he shifted the topic purposefully as he moved to take a seat next to her, as Rey had. Keeping their conversation light, as if he had intended to answer her questions all along, he would sit with her into the wee hours of the mourn as they shared.
“Well, I actually started out as a blacksmith, but I’m terrible at working with my hands. By the time I had served my apprenticeship, it was quite clear that metallurgy was not my calling.”
“Your calling was the sea,” she laughed, the sparkle returning to her eyes as she leaned closer to him, which pleased him as he laid an arm across her shoulders and snuggled her against the side of his chest.
“Not exactly,” he also grinned. “I took the job until I found something better. Ten years later, I earned the rank of first mate. That’s when I became comfortable, and I’ve been on this ship ever since.” He stroked her hair, his heart beating faster with anticipation.
“Commanding the crew,” she saluted him, her face turned up to his. She could not have appeared more provocative if she had tried.
“Yes, commanding the crew and seeing to the cargo,” he shrugged. “So, what about you? You’re a strong, capable young woman. Where do you see your calling taking you?”
“I didn’t think you had noticed,” she flushed. “I mean, I had begun to think you were too old for a young woman, such as myself,” she added on deviously, “beautiful or otherwise.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he grinned, his finger extended to trace the line of her jaw. His thumb brushing her lips, he whispered, “I assure you I’ve had my share of tumbles, both beautiful and otherwise,” he taunted, his mouth close enough to taste her.
“But, I’m a bit old for taking on a new career, a wife, or a family,” he finished flatly, leaving her hanging. “I want to be clear about that. We have three weeks until we get you back to Nalen, and I would certainly love to spend that time with you, but that is all that I can offer, my sweet, for I myself am married to the sea.”
He could see her eyes glaze over, perhaps in anger, so he soothed, “If you’re really looking for a traveling companion, or,” his tongue flicked over his lips, “something more permanent, I’m sure Rey or Bally either one would be happy to accommodate you. If you’re looking for more of a tumble or two, well…” He leaned against her more firmly, as if he were finally going to kiss her.
“Is that what the wine was about, then?” she demanded, raw rage glaring at him as she placed both palms against his chest and pushed.
“It was about sharing a bit of company!” he replied, not releasing his hold on her as she struggled against him.
“Fine, we shared a bit of company,” she hid her tears with her hair as she pulled away from him to stand in the center of the room. Removing her boots, she dropped each on the floor with a thud. “Are you going to move, or do I get the chair tonight?”
His jaw hanging open, he relinquished the bed, then demanded, “You didn’t really think we were going to set a wedding date –”
“No, I didn’t think anything, Piers,” she bit his name like a curse, tearing at his pride. “Good night,” she spat, sliding into the covers still fully dressed. Facing the wall, she fumed, angry at him for thinking he could part her from her clothing so easily, and at herself for thinking he could be anything other than a sailor, married to the sea as he put it.
“Good night,” he replied, the bottle of wine in one hand and a chair in the other. Placing the seat next to the door on the narrow deck outside, he took a large swig straight from the bottle. Staring out across the bay, he laughed to himself. I guess my luck with women is slipping. Normally they would have been finished, and he’d have been asleep by then.
Golden Sun
Reynard Daye could smell trouble the moment he entered the first mate’s quarters the following morning. He had enjoyed his night in town, drinking at the bar, and had almost worked up the courage to visit the brothel. When he joined this crew, he had promised himself that he would, at least once before the year was out, but he hadn’t made it yet.
Instead, he had sat with a pint, nursing it and contemplating how thoughtful it had been for Piers to take on sitting with the girl so they could have the night off; the whole night in fact. What if it had been a ruse?
“Did he hurt you?” Dropping the tray of food on the table, his hands doubled into fists, he made no attempt to hide his rage. “Last night, while he had you alone, did he behave himself?” he repeated.
Looking up into his beautiful hazel orbs, Ami could feel her gut twist at the depth of his protectiveness. “No, he didn’t hurt me,” she bit back, wiping at her red eyes. No, she had caused whatever pain she suffered for believing Piers Massheby could be anything other than a salty sea dog and a scoundrel at heart.
She had let his shielding her from the others fool her into thinking that he might care. To the contrary, it only meant he was selfish and that he didn’t want to share. “Seriously, I’m unharmed,” she said again, forcing a faint smile.
“Good,” he nodded, indicating the tray, his demeanor still tense. “I’ve brought food for us, and this is my day with you.”
“Good,” she repeated, grinning more fully and relaxing easily in his company. “Thank you, Rey. At least there is one of you I can count on.” Taking her seat, she let the statement fall flat across the room, not offering any explanation as to her meaning.
Instead, she picked up on their conversation from the day before as she served herself. There had been talk of dragons, but Rey had insisted quite adamantly that they should not be discussed. So, instead, she inquired, “You’ve been a sailor for some time. Where all have you been? Are there really cannibals along the western shores?”
“I hardly find that a tasteful subject for a young lady,” he chuckled, sitting beside her and selecting his own food. “But I’ve heard that story myself many times about the wilds of the west. I can’t verify the claim though. No ship I’ve ever been on has dared to sail further west than Newrock, much less put to port there.”
He glanced over at her a few times, hoping she would leave it at that. Bally’s morbid fascination with dragons had bothered him, and he felt
no desire to enlighten the girl. What he did know of such fire-breathing monsters didn’t come from second-hand tales. He had lived the nightmare, and he had no intention of poisoning her thoughts with his past.
“Are there ports there, west of Newrock?” she asked in surprise. “If ships don’t go so far, then why would there be people there?”
“I guess because they want to be,” he laughed out loud, “and yes, there are ports there. Some vessels surely brave the unfriendly waters, just none that I have ever sailed on,” he clarified.
“We should go there, then, just to explore it,” her eyes shone as she suggested it. “You could go with me, you know,” she smiled sweetly. She had spent half the night crying over the Mate. The other half she had thought about what he had said; that Bally or Rey either one would be a good traveling companion. In the end, she had decided that he was at least right about that.
Slowing his movements, Rey avoided looking at her while he considered the proposal. “I’m bound by contract to this vessel until winter comes and we can no longer make the run to Newrock,” he reminded her. “Would you be willing to wait for me until then?” Peeking at her between his long dark locks, his gaze smoldered.
Damn, she was pretty. He had been overwhelmed when she had been discovered, this delicate creature he had sworn to protect. Now, he had gotten to know her and the idea that she might contemplate a future with him had him considering the possibilities; ones that didn’t involve being a crewman.
Her lip taking on a small pout, she sighed, “But it’s only mid-summer, and winter is still some months away. I can’t stay in Nalen that long…” her voice trailed away. “You can’t break your contract?”
“I don’t get paid if I break it,” he supplied, continuing with his meal. “They don’t pay the bulk of my share until we finish the last run.”
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