by Lisa Kessler
A chill ran down her back. “How did you know my name?”
He held up his phone. “Yelp, I’m afraid. You’ve garnered many glowing reviews. Apparently you’re not a swindler like so many others.”
Now he was starting to piss her off. Yes, there were some psychics hoping to con people out of a few bucks, but thieves were everywhere. And now she was back to thinking about Curt. Damn it.
She gestured to the worn oak table in the middle of the room. “I close soon, so if you’d like a reading, we’d better get started.”
He took the chair across from her, but all his attention was focused on the table. He ran his hand along the holes in the center like he was caressing fine silk.
His eyes locked on hers. “This isn’t a table, it’s a windlass from a ship.” His eyes wandered over the wood. “We used them to raise the anchor.”
“You sail?”
He jolted a little and started to nod. “Yes. Years ago.” He shook his head. “Where did you find this?”
She shuffled her cards. “It’s been in my family for generations. It came off a shipwreck just outside the mouth of the Savannah River.”
For a moment, his expression went distant. She cleared her throat and cut the tarot deck. “What kind of guidance are you looking for?”
He raised his gaze, his well-worn cloak of self-confidence sliding back into place. “I’m actually not in search of any.” He plucked a business card out of his coat pocket and placed it in front of her. “I came to discuss the purchase of your property.”
“What?” She studied the card, then stared at the man across the table. “Wow. Sorry you came all the way down from Atlanta, Ian, but my shop isn’t for sale.”
His lips curved into a self-assured smirk. “Everyone has a price. I’d like to know yours.”
She shook her head. “I’m not interested.”
He leaned in. “You haven’t even heard my offer yet.” He glanced around the shop and back to her. “I could give you enough money to retire on, or you could find a new location if you’d like.”
She drew her cards in closer to her. “I’m happy with this location. Thanks.”
He shook his head. “Let me buy you dinner. We can discuss this further.”
“It wouldn’t matter how much you’re offering. The Magnolia Mystic isn’t for sale.”
He removed his wallet and placed a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Perhaps I’ll have that reading now.”
Skye shuffled her deck again. His business card taunted her. She’d heard of Ian Flynn. Who hadn’t? He was one of the largest real estate developers in the state.
And he wanted her shop.
Why?
She turned up the cards, her own thoughts fading away as she tapped into her gift. When she finished his reading, she lifted her eyes. The intensity in his gaze sent a chill down her spine.
She cleared her throat, scanning the spread before her. All the power cards mocked her, warning her this was a man who was accustomed to getting his way. But a few cards suggested an emptiness haunting him.
A barren pit that money couldn’t fill.
Interesting.
He pushed his chair back. “That was more enlightening than I expected. Maybe we could discuss my offer over dinner.”
She retrieved the cards, shaking her head. “There’s nothing to discuss.” She met his eyes. “This probably won’t make sense to you, but this shop has been passed down in my family since the early 1800s. I may never get rich, but I’ll also never sell.”
He stood. “Never can be a very long time, Ms. Olson.” He went to the door and turned back. “I have acquired all the properties on this block for my new hotel, and I’m prepared to take whatever measures necessary to see the project moves forward.”
She raised a brow. “Are you threatening me?”
“Not a threat; I’m just laying my cards on the table.” He pointed to her table. “You can give readings anywhere. Imagine the freedom you could have with a healthy bank balance. Keeping an ancestral property is noble, but it’s also a prison. I’m offering you a chance to spread your wings.” He opened the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
Finding the Captain wasn’t tough. He still frequented the Pirate’s House restaurant. Colton didn’t find the place as nostalgic.
“Can I help you?” The hostess grinned up at him.
“I’m looking for someone. Red-headed gentleman from Atlanta?”
“Oh, Mr. Flynn is here. Is he expecting you?”
“Yes,” he lied without hesitation and followed her to a table by the window.
His captain looked up at him, the flash of anger in his eyes quickly faded. “Mr. Hayes. What a surprise.”
The hostess returned to her station as Colton took a seat across from Flynn. “We need to talk.”
The Captain took a swallow of his rum and Coke. “Do we now?” He replaced his glass on the table. “If this has to do with my project here, it’s not up for discussion.”
Colton lowered his voice. “Your hotel is the least of our worries at the moment.” He opened his hand, exposing the rope burn.
The Captain glanced at Colton’s wound and back to his eyes. “I’m not a nurse.”
“That’s the thing,” Colton pulled his hand back off the table. “I shouldn’t need one.”
Ian frowned. “What are you saying?”
“Eli was in a car accident. He’s still in the hospital. And One-Eyed Bob cut his finger. It’s not healing either.” He glanced around the restaurant. “I’m calling the crew together. That includes you.”
Ian stiffened. “You think the spell is broken.”
“I don’t know what to think. It’s not like the cup came with instructions.”
Flynn knocked back the rest of his drink. “What do you suggest?”
“Friday night, we’ll meet at Bob’s restaurant at midnight.” He placed an envelope on the table. “Eli was on his way to deliver our counteroffer. You can build your hotel anywhere but here.”
Captain Flynn tapped his finger on the envelope without picking it up. “You don’t give me orders, Quartermaster.”
Colton leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a hiss. “Savannah is our territory. That was the bargain.”
“We made that deal centuries ago. Plans change.”
“We let you live.” He ached to wipe the smirk off the Captain’s face. “If you break our deal, your sentence stands.”
“Your threats are empty.” Ian chuckled. “We can’t die.”
“That may not be true anymore.” Colton stood up. “Friday at midnight.”
He left the restaurant, his hands in tight fists. The ache was foreign. Physical pain had been a stranger since he sipped from the cup they’d plundered from the Spanish galleon. Curse the blasted Captain. The man had no honor, only ambition. Immortality hadn’t changed that. If anything, it enhanced it.
Colton made his way through the dimly lit streets of historic Savannah, as the fog wafted in around his ankles. The block that Flynn Enterprises had been buying up wasn’t too far. According to John’s research, there was only one hold out. One person standing between history and Captain Flynn’s vision of the future.
Checking the address, he knocked on the door.
The door opened a crack. “We’re closed.”
He recognized those violet eyes. His throat went dry. “Oh. You again.”
Her eyes narrowed as she chuckled. “You must have women throwing themselves at you with lines like that. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if Flynn Enterprises has made an offer to buy your property.” His gaze wandered against his better judgement. On his ship, she’d been wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Now her curves were covered by a quality replica of a pirate’s frock coat, complete with deck boots, a bandana covering her hair, and a single hoop earring. “Didn’t take you for a pirate earlier today.”
“You seriously came over here to talk to a stranger about private financial information, and
then you have the balls to comment on her work attire?” She raised a brow.
“We’re hardly strangers.” He struggled to hold back a smile and offered his hand. “I don’t think I introduced myself earlier. I’m Colton. Colton Hayes.”
She looked at his hand and finally opened the door. “Skye Olson. And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.”
He entered her shop. “Didn’t come to punish anyone.”
She took her chair. “Why would a guy who owns a pirate ship give a damn about Flynn Enterprises?”
The fire in her eyes mesmerized him. Passion. He shook his head. “I have a long history with Ian Flynn. He doesn’t care about anything but turning a profit. My friends and I try to keep Savannah safe from people like him.”
She opened her hands. “Sit.” He hesitated for a second and she pointed to the other chair. “Please.”
He took a seat and she quickly shuffled her cards and spread them out in front of him. “Pick one.”
“I don’t believe in this stuff.” Or at least he didn’t. Since she came aboard his ship, he wasn’t sure what to believe.
“I do.” She sighed. “Or I did.” She scooped them back into a pile. “I need to get something to eat.” She yanked the bandana free and laid it on the table beside her cards. “Want to come with me to Bob’s?”
He considered rejecting her offer. This was the woman with the violet eyes. He’d been warned about her two hundred years ago.
But he didn’t have any resistance left in him. “Sounds good.”
She glanced at her outfit and back over at him. “Maybe I’ll meet you over there. I should get changed first.”
“All right. I’ll go get a table.”
“Deal.” She smiled, and his dead heart warmed.
One smile would never be enough.
After Colton left, Skye was drawn back to her deck. She spread them out. “Who is Colton, really?”
She plucked one from the middle. The knight of cups. At least it wasn’t the two again. If her faith in her second sight wasn’t so shaken, she’d have told herself this was a noble man with a mission. A defender. And the cup in his hand didn’t have to mean love. But it usually did.
Given her recent experience, he could be a wolf in sheep’s clothing and she’d probably be blind to it until it was too late. Enough.
She climbed the back stairs to her apartment over the shop. One bedroom, nothing fancy, but it was hers free and clear. Good thing since Curt had robbed her nest egg. Not going there.
No, instead she was going to dinner with a hot guy who captained his own pirate ship. She must be nuts, and a very slow learner.
Skye hung up her pirate garb and put on a pair of jeans and a black sweater. After brushing her hair, she checked the mirror. This wasn’t a date, but she put on a little eyeliner and some lip gloss anyway. She pulled the hundred dollar bill from Ian Flynn out of the pocket of her pirate coat and headed for the door.
Bob’s was a quirky pirate themed restaurant with a constantly changing menu of seafood. Pirate’s House was a favorite for tourists, but Bob’s was the spot for locals. Like her shop, it had been passed down through the family, too. The restaurant had been around longer than she had.
When she opened the door, the proprietor glanced up from the open kitchen. “Sight for sore eyes, or eye as far as I’m concerned.” He chuckled. “Sit anywhere you like, Skye.”
Bob went by One-Eyed Bob to his friends. She’d never asked how he lost it, but his glass eye was so expertly crafted some people didn’t notice it was false, at least not right away.
She scanned the room and found Colton at a table in the corner by the window. He got up as she approached and pulled out her chair.
“Thanks.” She couldn’t remember the last time a guy did that for her. Old school.
He came around to take his seat and almost smiled. “You know Bob.”
“Yeah, he makes hushpuppies that are to die for.”
Speak of the devil, Bob came over with a hand towel draped over his shoulder. “You two know each other?” He grinned like some kind of Yenta.
She nodded. “I was trespassing on his boat earlier today.”
Bob laughed, his one eye sparkling with mischief. “Colton gets territorial when it comes to his lady. That’d be the ship. She keeps him too busy to court real women.”
“Is that so?” She chuckled, glancing over at the big handsome man across the table from her. “I didn’t realize you already knew each other.”
Colton nodded. “One-Eyed Bob and I go way back.”
“I gotta get back in the kitchen, but dinner is on the house for you two, and you’re getting the special.”
He retreated before she could reply.
Colton chuckled and the sound warmed her. “Any idea what the ‘special’ is?”
“Nope. I just hope it’s not fish.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust.
He raised a brow. “You come to a seafood restaurant and you don’t like fish?”
“I like crab and shrimp.” A sheepish smile curved her lips.
The server came over with waters and a plate of hushpuppies. She took a bite and groaned. “Mmm they’re still hot.”
Colton shifted in his chair. “I’m sorry if I was a jerk earlier. I guess I do get protective when it comes to the ship.”
She shrugged. “I don’t usually go around disobeying signs. I was a little distracted today.”
“Did you pawn the ring?”
She shook her head and met his eyes. “I dropped it in the river from your gangplank.”
“He must’ve been a bastard.”
“You could say that.” She picked up another hushpuppy. “I’m still kicking myself that I didn’t see it. I’m supposed to be a psychic, you know?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. If you could see your whole life laid out before you, there’d be no reason to live it, right?”
She hadn’t thought about it like that.
He reached for his water, exposing a tattoo on the inside of his forearm.
“Is that a compass?”
He lifted his arm like he’d forgotten it was there. “Aye. North star so I don’t lose my way.”
Something sparked in her memory, but she couldn’t quite place why. Before she could say anything, Bob put a steaming plate between them filled with shrimp, crab, and oysters.
“Eat up, my friends.”
She smiled up at him. “Looks amazing.”
He winked his good eye. “I try.”
She transferred some of the feast to her plate and glanced at Colton. “So why do you care about Savannah so much?”
He lowered his fork, meeting her eyes. “I’ve sailed all over the world, but I always come back here. There are parts of this town that haven’t changed since the 1700s. It’s rare that a place retains its identity. I don’t like to see people like Flynn sacrificing the heart of Savannah for the almighty dollar.”
“Pretty noble.” The knight card she drew popped in her head. He rushes in where others dare not tread. She tried not to smile as she poked at her food. “Then I guess you’ll be happy to know I rejected his offer.”
Colton’s grin made his dark eyes sparkle, and a flock of butterflies went off in her belly. This guy could be trouble.
And she’d sworn off that.
Chapter 3
By the time they left Bob’s, the streets were empty. Colton hadn’t lost track of time like that in…more years than he cared to think about.
He stopped in front of her shop and took her hand. “Thank you for the unexpected evening.” He brushed a kiss to her knuckles. “I hope it won’t be our last.”
Skye grinned, her cheeks still flushed with the Drunken Pirate drinks Bob kept pushing on them. “I thought you only had eyes for your ship.”
God, she was beautiful. “Until I met you.”
“So you do know how to be charming.” She took a step closer, looking up at him. “Maybe you could give me a proper tour sometime.”
>
Oh, he wanted to give her so much more than a tour. He brought his hand up to caress her cheek. “Anytime.”
“How about now?”
His heart thumped in his chest, and alcohol warmed his gut. Given the choice between sitting alone worrying about Eli and whether or not the curse was ending, or spending more time with her…ah hell that wasn’t even a choice. “Why not?”
He took her hand again, enjoying the spark of fire that lit through his bloodstream and led her through the fog toward River Street.
Seeing the usually bustling area empty was equally beautiful and haunting. It brought back memories of earlier days. Centuries before cell phones and email. Back when his crew would drop anchor in the cloak of night and shanghai new crew members out of the pubs.
Lifetimes ago.
He walked her across the gangplank and hopped down onto the deck. Turning back, he reached up to clasp her waist.
Her eyes widened. “Wasn’t there a step before?”
“Aye.” He nodded. “It’s for tourists.”
She still didn’t move. “So I’m not a tourist anymore?”
“No.” He shook his head and lowered her to the deck. Staring down into her eyes, his hands slid up her sides. “You’re my guest.”
She tipped her chin up toward him. He couldn’t resist the invitation, bending to kiss her lips. He hummed into her mouth as she opened, welcoming his exploration. She tasted like rum, root beer, and something wild he couldn’t place, but it didn’t matter. He wanted more.
Craved it.
Her hands moved up his chest, as he clenched a handful of her silky hair in his fist. He held her tighter. God, she was made for his arms. His heart pounded in his ears reminding him…he was alive. Until he bumped into her on the stern of the ship, only the swells of the open sea gave him a rush of passion.
His erection throbbed between them, and regretfully, she broke the kiss, stepping out of his embrace.
She reached up to touch her lips. “What the hell was that?”
“A damned fine kiss.” His chest rose and fell as he struggled to catch his breath.
She nodded, dropping her hand. Studying his face, her voice softened. “I don’t know what Bob put in those Drunken Pirates tonight, but wow. I’m impressed.”
