by Cali MacKay
But already he was shaking his head no, making her heart shatter. “We’ll be at sea for months, and ye ken how small my cabin is. Ye’d not survive it, love. But the winter will be over before long and I’ll be back to ye in no time at all.”
“Please—”
“Molly. There’s nothing to be done for it.” His voice was stern, but with her temper now back, she struggled to get free of his grasp, infuriating her further when his lips twitched into a smile. “Surely ye’ve not already forgotten what happens when ye disobey me.”
His hand went down and squeezed her sore arse, her hips jumping against him, his cock now hard. But this time, she was in no mood. “Let go of me, Ronan.”
Her fists pounded on his chest to no avail, as he lifted her off her feet and carried her out of the room and to their sleeping chamber. Her kicks and punches could have been landing on a stone wall for all the good they did.
Her eyes went wide and her efforts doubled when Ronan grabbed a length of silk cording from the bedside table. As a sea captain, he knew his knots, and there’d be no hope of getting free if he bound her. Yet her curses refused to turn into pleas.
“Damn you, Ronan.” Already, he had the cord knotted snug around her wrists, hauling her arms over her head to string her to the metal hook mounted on the thick wooden beam. Still cursing, she hung there writhing like a worm on a hook, her efforts utterly useless.
Ronan propped himself on the arm of the sofa, his arms and legs crossed before him, and a smirk on his face as he watched her squirm and struggle. “Dear Molly, was I gone so long that ye’ve reverted to yer old ways? I thought we’d cured ye of yer feistiness and mischief.”
It was one thing for her to be frustrated and cursing, and an entirely different thing for her to be truly angry with him. But angry she was—and hurt. As hardened a man as he was, she knew he had little tolerance for it, and could not truly bear it. Without another word, she gave him one final look, cold and hard, and then looked away from him.
She heard him let out a long sigh. “Och, Molly, what are ye doing, aye?”
He stepped to her side and nuzzled her cheek before nibbling on her ear, as she stood there ignoring him. With her hands still strung up above her, her body was pulled taut, so that his touch, now trailing down her side to her waist, set every nerve tingling through the thin linen of her chemise.
Yet she still ignored him and held firm. “Ye ken I canna stand for ye to be upset with me, love. And our games are no fun, if ye willna play.” She could hear his frown come through in his voice, though she’d yet to look at him.
He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, trailing kisses across her jaw line before finally finding his way to her lips.
Though she didn’t return his kiss, she did finally look at him, if only to pin him with an icy glare.
“What would ye have me do, lass? Ye canna come, and I must go.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, his eyes on hers, threatening to melt away her anger.
“You can either cut me down and tell me you’ll not go, or you can take me with you. Those are your options.”
The corners of his mouth curled in a sly smile. “It wouldna seem like ye’re in much of a position to be handing out ultimatums, my love.”
She knew it was the truth of the matter, yet she did not care. “I swear, Ronan, I’ll not speak to you again.” Angry as she was, the thought had her tears spilling over despite her best attempt to keep them at bay.
“Och, love. Dinna cry.” Seeing she was truly upset, his smile disappeared as he reached up and unhooked the rope, before undoing her wrists. “Molly… there’s naught to be done for it. I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” With one final look and a shake of her head, she walked out the room and out the door, into the night.
***
Molly easily got lost in the crowded streets, her hurt and anger mingling to make her absolutely miserable. Heartbroken, it felt as if she weren’t truly anchored to her body, her face numb and her head spinning. She got bumped and jostled by the growing evening crowds as she wandered aimlessly, her thoughts refusing to settle on anything but Ronan’s departure.
Though she wanted nothing more than for Ronan to come after her and comfort her in his arms, she knew it wouldn’t resolve anything. Not that her solution would yield better results.
She wandered into the alehouse on the far end of town, hoping to find a small measure of distraction and oblivion. It wasn’t the pub she normally frequented, but that suited her just fine, since there was a good chance Ronan would eventually go looking for her and knew all her normal haunts. It was a rougher crowd than she was used to, but in the mood she was in, she didn’t care.
Heading straight for the bar, she could feel the men’s eyes shift in her direction, watching her progress through the room. Ignoring them, she slid a coin across the marred wood surface to the publican and then climbed onto a stool. “Whisky.” He poured her a glass, and nearly as quick, she emptied it, the liquid like molten gold burning its way down her throat. Another coin was sent across. “I’ll take the bottle.”
The publican’s eyebrows perked in question, but he gave her the bottle and watched as she poured herself another. “’Tis your coin, aye? But do you think it a wise idea?”
She threw back her drink, giving her head a shake as the drink set her insides on fire. “What do you care?”
“Listen, lass, you’re far too pretty to end up piss drunk and alone in a place like this. It’s dangerous for you to be here on your own. They’re a bunch of pirates and criminals.” He was right about the men assembled, and likely the reason she didn’t frequent this pub in Ronan’s absence.
She looked at the publican as if for the first time. He was a handsome man and well-muscled, with honey-streaked brown hair, kind amber eyes the color of rum and a smile that would make a lass weak in the knees. Still young, she’d guess him to be in his mid-twenties, and about her age, unlike Ronan who was three and thirty, far more a man than a boy.
Swallowing her misery, she managed a smile, thinking she may have found a way to help forget her sorrows. “They may be criminals and pirates, but I have you to protect me. What’s your name, pet?”
“William.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips, her heart picking up an extra beat when he touched her, his hands just a little rough from work, though he was nothing but gentle. “And it’d be my honor to keep you safe. What’s your name, darling?”
“It’s Molly. Will you drink with me?” She found herself taking an immediate liking to him, for there was something sweet about him, a kindness in his eyes that gave her the impression that the man before her would hold nothing back when he fell in love, giving them his all, heart and soul.
William put another glass on the bar and she filled them both, happy for his company, a small glimmer of light on a dark and hopeless night. When he smiled at her, she was happy to see his eyes light up from within. “Molly, eh? As for drinking with you, I don’t think I’d have it in me to refuse you anything, lass.”
Molly drained her glass, and then reached across the bar and pulled William in close, nuzzling him before brushing her lips against his. Their kiss deepened, her lips hard on his as his mouth parted and their tongues explored, the taste of whisky still strong, burning the back of her throat. He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her closer, stealing her breath, kissing her until everything around them faded to grey.
How she managed to put some distance between them, she knew not, for he’d had a far greater effect on her than she’d anticipated. And yet, despite her flirtations with William, she still could not keep Ronan from invading her thoughts, her heart only aching all the more for him. Her body might react to William’s touch, and he seemed incredibly nice, but she was still Ronan’s, heart and soul.
William pursed his lips in a frown, his brow drawn close as he took her in. “Are you all right, Molly?”
“Aye. I’m fine, love.” Yet she wasn’t. Not when she
couldn’t forget Ronan or that he’d be leaving her in mere days. She poured them another drink, hoping it would dull her senses and kill her heartache.
Tears threatened once more, making her eyes sting. She threw back her drink, ignoring the molten heat as it trailed over the lump in her throat to her belly, and then spun in her stool to look out at the crowd, lest William notice just how upset she was. Seeking further distraction, she scanned the room and found a game of cards going. Perfect.
Forcing a smile on her face, she glanced over her shoulder at William. “I trust you’ll not be going anywhere?” Then before he could answer her, she twined her hand in his shirt and pulled him close for another kiss as he cupped her face, kissing her until he left her breathless, her heartbeat tripping over itself. His lips lingered on hers a moment more, and she couldn’t help but nuzzle him before pulling away and wandering over to join the game.
She waited for the hand being played to end and then pulled up a seat, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the men sitting at the table. “Deal me in, if you would.”
“You sure?” The man across from her gathered the cards, though his grey eyes were on her, a curious smile on his weathered and scarred face.
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Deal the cards, love.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table, holding his gaze without a problem. “Or do I have you worried?” Given the mood she was in, she didn’t really care if she won or lost her hand—though luck tended to favor her.
“Nae, darling. Not worried one bit, and I’d rather look at your pretty face than these ugly mugs.” He tilted his head to the other men at the table.
In the end, her head was not in the game, her thoughts running back to Ronan. To what would happen between them. She played and drank, losing some, winning most, her head starting to spin.
And then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She closed her eyes and her breath deepened as she resisted the urge to lean up against his arm. She need not look to see who it was, for she would always know his touch.
*End of Sample—The Pirate and the Feisty Maid, Part Two – Her New Lover, is now available for purchase.*
The Pirate and the Feisty Maid
Part Two- Her New Lover
Chapter One
“But you only just got back.” Molly couldn’t believe Ronan would be leaving her again, his words like a punch to the gut. In just a week’s time, he’d be returning to sea, despite having just returned home after a six-month absence. Her temper sparked, and she made no move to hide it—nor could she hide the tears that shimmered and stung her eyes as she struggled to hold them back.
“Molly, ye ken I’d not be going if I didn’t need to, but we’re far enough into the season that I’ve no choice if I’m to make the voyage there before the weather turns.” He took another pull from his ale when the full meaning of his words hit her.
“So you don’t mean to return until next season?” This time, his words were like a knife to the heart. She was numb with disbelief, not wanting to believe what he was saying.
“It’ll be too dangerous to try and return. I’ll winter in the Indies before heading back. But this opportunity willna present itself again. I’d not leave ye otherwise.”
His blue eyes held hers, so she found herself unable to look away. “Then take me with you. Please, don’t leave me here, Ronan. I cannot manage without you for such a length of time when I’ll barely have ye back a week before you depart once more. And you promised me—you promised to not ever leave me longer than a single season.”
He’d given her his word—as long as they were together, he’d promised to love her and keep her safe. He’d promised to never leave her longer than a season, vowing to always return to her for the winter, fully aware of the difficulties she’d had as a child, after losing her father to the sea.
Having grown up around sailors and pirates all her life, she refused to be just another abandoned woman, never seeing her man and waiting months or years for his return—if he ever did make it back. Women and children left to fend for themselves any way they were able. Well, she’d not join their ranks—especially not after she’d so narrowly escaped that fate.
“Och, love. Do ye not think I’d rather be here with ye? And I ken that I gave ye my word, but I must go, and ‘tis too dangerous for ye to come along. Besides, ye’ll have Ilsa to keep ye company while I’m away.”
She pounded her fist on the table, her fork jumping off her plate with a clatter, absolutely furious with him—and hurt. How could he do this to her, especially when he knew how she worried about him? Especially when he’d given her his word?
Ronan had only just returned to her, and now he’d be leaving her behind to worry once again. Not counting the few days they’d have together before his departure, he’d be gone a year and a quarter once all was said and done—far more than the season he’d promised.
She couldn’t bear it, and her fear and anger got the best of her. “I curse the day I laid eyes on you, Ronan.”
She pushed her chair back and headed for the door, but he was out of his seat and at her side, pulling her into his embrace before she could make her escape. She struggled to get free, but her efforts were futile, his strong arm around her waist like a vise, the nearness of him too much, upset as she was.
“Sweet Molly, ye ken ye dinna mean that.” She was not fooled by the sweetness in his voice, for they both knew she was being bold. Yet with her temper up, she didn’t care of the consequences.
She held his gaze, her own fierce, for this was no longer a game. “If you leave me here alone, I’ll mean every word of it. Is it not enough that you’re usually gone from March until October? I’ve never once complained, Ronan, but you’ll be gone well over a year, what with you only having returned, and I cannot bear it. And for what?”
“It’s just the one time, lass.”
“It’s never just the once, though is it? What’s so important, it’d have you breaking your promise? Do we not already have everything we need?” Molly knew Ronan had enough for them to live well. Did he really need more?
“Och, lass. I could lose it all and still be the richest man if I had ye at my side.” His words melted away some of her anger, so that when he kissed her with a teasing brush of his lips, her stomach clenched and her heart raced. She couldn’t help but lean into him, her need to keep him close extinguishing her anger, only to replace it with desperation. “I love ye Molly.”
“Then I’m begging you—if you’ll not stay, then take me with you. I promise not to get in your way. Please, Ronan. I cannot face the winter without you. I’ll do nothing but worry until you return, and I swear it’ll be enough to do me in.”
“Molly… I canna have ye stuck on a ship for months with those men. Criminals, the whole lot of them.” He ran a roughened finger down her cheek. “I couldna guarantee yer safety—nor mine—if I stood in their way. With yer beauty, they’d knife me for sure if it meant a chance to be with ye.”
She fisted handfuls of his shirt, and leaned her forehead against his chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm herself. “Then they need not know. I’ll happily stay in your cabin for the entirety of the voyage. You could sneak me onto the ship before the crew boarded.”
But already he was shaking his head no, making her heart shatter. “We’ll be at sea for months, and ye ken how small my cabin is. Ye’d not survive it, love. But the winter will be over before long and I’ll be back to ye in no time at all.”
“Please—”
“Molly. There’s nothing to be done for it.” His voice was stern, but with her temper now back, she struggled to get free of his grasp, infuriating her further when his lips twitched into a smile. “Surely ye’ve not already forgotten what happens when ye disobey me.”
His hand went down and squeezed her sore arse, her hips jumping against him, his cock now hard. But this time, she was in no mood. “Let go of me, Ronan.”
Her fists pounded on his chest to no avail, as he lifted her of
f her feet and carried her out of the room and to their sleeping chamber. Her kicks and punches could have been landing on a stone wall for all the good they did.
Her eyes went wide and her efforts doubled when Ronan grabbed a length of silk cording from the bedside table. As a sea captain, he knew his knots, and there’d be no hope of getting free if he bound her. Yet her curses refused to turn into pleas.
“Damn you, Ronan.” Already, he had the cord knotted snug around her wrists, hauling her arms over her head to string her to the metal hook mounted on the thick wooden beam. Still cursing, she hung there writhing like a worm on a hook, her efforts utterly useless.
Ronan propped himself on the arm of the sofa, his arms and legs crossed before him, and a smirk on his face as he watched her squirm and struggle. “Dear Molly, was I gone so long that ye’ve reverted to yer old ways? I thought we’d cured ye of yer feistiness and mischief.”
It was one thing for her to be frustrated and cursing, and an entirely different thing for her to be truly angry with him. But angry she was—and hurt. As hardened a man as he was, she knew he had little tolerance for it, and could not truly bear it. Without another word, she gave him one final look, cold and hard, and then looked away from him.
She heard him let out a long sigh. “Och, Molly, what are ye doing, aye?”
He stepped to her side and nuzzled her cheek before nibbling on her ear, as she stood there ignoring him. With her hands still strung up above her, her body was pulled taut, so that his touch, now trailing down her side to her waist, set every nerve tingling through the thin linen of her chemise.
Yet she still ignored him and held firm. “Ye ken I canna stand for ye to be upset with me, love. And our games are no fun, if ye willna play.” She could hear his frown come through in his voice, though she’d yet to look at him.
He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, trailing kisses across her jaw line before finally finding his way to her lips.
