How To Please a Pirate by Mia Marlowe Page B

roared over his
shoulder, trying to shield Jacquelyn from his uncle’s view. “Does
no one ever knock in this cursed place?”
    Eustace’s eyes widened as he realized he’d
interrupted Gabriel and Jacquelyn in the very act. The priest
whirled around, faced the door and banged his knuckles on the
worm-marked oak.
    “Your pardon, nephew.” The set of his uncle’s
shoulders told Gabriel that Eustace was upset by the scene he’d
interrupted but his voice was commendably even. “But Sir Cecil
Oddbody is on your doorstep waiting to be announced.”
    “Who the hell is he?” Gabriel’s tone was
decidedly less even.
    Though he was still inside her, Gabriel
straightened his arms and let Jacquelyn slide her legs down so her
feet rested tiptoe on the floor again.
    “One of the king’s counselors. Unless memory
fails me, Oddbody is the courtier whose signature is on that pardon
you’re so proud of,” Uncle Eustace said. “Shall I tell him you’ll
meet him in the solar directly or that you’re too busy defiling
Mistress Wren to attend him at present?”
    “I’ll be along in a moment,” Gabriel
said.
    “I hardly think—”
    “I said, I’ll be there. Now begone!”
    “The lord of a castle wields great power. But
power is seductive. It consumes all who use it. Be careful yours
does not consume you, Gabriel.” Eustace slammed the door behind
him.
    Gabe twisted back to Jacquelyn to find her
stuffing her breasts back into her bodice, her cheeks flaming. The
moment was definitely lost. He felt himself wither and slip from
inside her.
    “Lyn, I didn’t want it to be this way.”
    She smoothed her skirt back down without
meeting his eyes. Her lips trembled in a mirthless smile and if he
hadn’t known how strong-minded she was, he might have feared for
her senses. There was certainly nothing to smile about.
    He reached for her. “I’m sorry if—”
    “No need, my lord.” She held up a forbidding
hand, careful to keep her eyes downcast. “Now if you will excuse
me, your duties take you elsewhere. As do mine.”
    She tried to push past him, but he grabbed
her arm.
    “We’re not finished with this,” he warned.
“Not by a long stretch.”
    “On the contrary,” she said, her tone
brittle. “Your goal is achieved. You have added my maidenhead to
your collection. But take heart, my lord. No doubt a new trophy
will arise on your horizon presently.”
    “It wasn’t like that and you know it.”
    “No, it wasn’t. It was my own fault. I should
have known a pirate would not stop until he’d—”
    “I did stop.”
    “Yes, you did,” she admitted. “But only when
you were certain I was incapable of it. Now, Lord Drake, if you
will release me, I will see to your guest’s refreshment.”
    “Lyn—”
    “Kindly refer to me as Mistress Wren, if you
please.”
    Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but
there was fire behind them. He found her fury strangely comforting.
Familiar, at any rate.
    “It’s not much to ask,” she said. “I think
I’ve given service enough this day to warrant at least that small
consideration.”
    He inclined his head slightly. She wished to
shelter behind distant courtesy, did she? He’d allow it.
    But only for a short while.
    He watched her walk to the ancient door, a
pang of conscience lashing him when she wobbled slightly and her
shoulders shuddered before reaching it. She left him without a
backward glance.
    He wished with all his heart that Uncle
Eustace had made his appearance very much later.
    Or, if it would’ve spared her this pain, a
few moments sooner.
    * * *
    “Good workmanship, this,” Cecil Oddbody said
as he inspected the ancient tapestry in the solar. In the early
morning, the golden threads shot through the piece would be
shimmering glory, but now as the sun sank into the sea, they were
nearly invisible in the soft light shafting through the room’s
green glass windows. “Lovely pattern in the goldwork. And certainly
not the only gold hidden in Dragon Caern