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For anyone who’s ever been told they were too much. For everyone who’s ever mistrusted themselves.
She didn’t really command it, not any more than a person commanded their arm to rise and fall. Command was what one person did to another. It was for things that were separate. She and the sea were one.
There was something about a man in uniform. Especially one who wore it so well.
“Captain Knigh Blackwood,”
shores of Xaymaca?”
I see what you did there Jamaica
Now that would have been an achievement—bedding the very pirate hunter sent after her. And one so very handsome. Those shoulders, that chest, that height—at close to six feet herself, thanks to the fae blood, she was taller than a lot of men. Knigh Blackwood stood a good few inches past that, almost dwarfing her. Yes, he was a fine specimen.
His skin burned. He’d only wanted to catch her for the handsome bounty but now… Barking hoarse orders, he gripped the rail, knuckles aching and white. Now, she’d made it personal.
She smiled and turned her mouth to his ear. “If you call me ‘Miss Vice’ ever again, I’ll cut out your tongue with your own dagger. Got it?” She released him and swayed back but didn’t leave his space, chin raised in question. He moistened his lips and swallowed slowly. “Yes, madam,” he murmured.
“Well,” he went on, “add in an absconding fiancée and being forced from our home, and I think it’s fair to say it was a difficult year.” The fiancée had left months before Father’s death, and she hadn’t exactly broken his heart. The betrothal to Lady Avice Ferrers had been arranged by Mother and Father.
Although she hadn’t broken his heart, the news she’d eloped with another man had been a slap in the face. In those few meetings, he’d clearly made a bad impression. Bad enough that she’d rather run away from her entire life and marry some penniless younger son of a baron than stay and marry him.
SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE
Because my ‘help’ is just a way of getting you back to Albion without you realising and escaping.
Half a dozen naked men ducked and scrubbed. Perhaps he would take a— A woman rose from under the water, back to him, long, dark hair unmistakable. Nakedness unmistakable. The breath caught in Knigh’s throat, and his heart took up a quick beat.
Knigh was Knighton Villiers, the fiancé she’d fled three years ago.
He shrugged. “Almost.” Looking out to sea, he tugged his shirt off. Muscle corded his shoulders and arms, rippled across his stomach, and curved over his chest, taut and— Well, that wasn’t fair. Her mouth went dry, and her heartbeat sped. “It’s rude to stare, you know.” The corner of his mouth twitched. Blinking, she rubbed her nose and turned away. Well, it was rude to be quite that… She swallowed. Delicious-looking? Tempting? Off-limits? Yes, all of those.
“That’s what I thought. Look, I’ve practised this—don’t try and match how long I stay under. Come up for breath when you need to.” “Good thing you warned me—I was planning on drowning.” She snorted. “Two jokes in one day? You are loosening up.” “Don’t get used to it. Must be sunstroke.”
“Be careful.” She laughed. “Oh, you don’t know me at all.” He leant closer, his soap and cinnamon scent cutting through the sulphurous smoke. “I say that because I do.”
Crimson—a coat, not blood. Arched brows rose in surprise, and Vee blew a relieved breath. “So nice of you to join us.” Her voice was strained, but she was alive. Nostrils flaring, he nodded and blocked a blow aimed at her. Thank the gods, yes, she was alive. He drew a deep breath, cooling fractionally.
the denial bruh
this slowburn
A cool touch on his blistering skin. He wheeled, grabbing something, raising his sword. “Knighton Villiers.” He stopped. He knew that voice, that name. Slate blue eyes stared up at him. He blinked. He knew those eyes, even if they weren’t always that colour. “Knighton,” she murmured, and he stared at her lips as they moved so slowly in comparison to the rushing of his blood, “they’ve surrendered.” Vee. Stillness. Eyes on them. The silence of held breaths. Hesperian swords on the deck. His ears popped and it all rushed back in.
The way he’d stared at her—he’d feared he’d hurt her. She’d heard of berserkers before, but she’d thought they were just stories from the far north of Albion and the tribes of Noreg.
“Knigh,” she murmured, “the past is done. It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is the decision you made today—you helped turn the tide of battle.”
“What matters is that we’re here, we’re alive for now, and we have treasure to celebrate.”
At least the drink dulled the pain, warmed her cheeks, and frayed her edges like old sails.
this wording i love it
His voice, the sound warmed by a smile, lifted, optimistic as he sang about counting stars, seeking experience, finding riches beyond money.
Lords, his song was infectious—his smile, too.
Knigh turned his gaze from the fire to her, the look loaded.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t danced at all—our Hesperian friends saw to that.” Wincing, she waved at her side. His eyes widened, drifting down to her torso. “You’re injured? Is it bad? I thought—” “Ah, I’m fine. I’m more annoyed they tore my shirt.” She shrugged. “Besides, you got hurt, but you seem to be managing.”
“Can you keep a secret?” She scoffed. Funny question for him of all people to be asking her. I’m Lady Avice Ferrers, your former betrothed. “I think so.”
“You asked about this”—he stepped closer, touching his shock of white hair—“afraid I lied about it being a nasty surprise.” He raised his hands defensively. “Not about my father—that part wasn’t a lie, just where this came from. It’s my fae mark.”
“Captain Blackwood…” Somehow formality felt safer, but damn it, did she want to be safe? “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me.” His fingers twitched against her. “I do.”
She lifted her chin, an invitation. His breath brushed her lips. “Then,” she said, “why don’t you?” All he had to do was lower his face a few inches. “Because,” he replied, voice husky, “if I start, I don’t know where it’ll stop.”
“Maybe you should start and find out.” Two beats, a slow blink, then his fingers plunged into her hair, and he pressed his mouth to hers.
Smiling, she lifted her hands to his face, tracing her fingers over the high cheekbones. “You are gorgeous, you know that, right?” He blinked. “I—I—thank you?” She chuckled and pulled his mouth back to hers. Clearly, not enough women had said that. A travesty. Men told women they were beautiful all the time and yet women so seldom repaid the compliment.
“I thought the Pirate Queen would appreciate a man kneeling for her.” With a flash of a grin, he nudged her thighs apart and, Wild Hunt, she was not about to stop him. Scoffing, she lay back, heart pounding in her ears. “Badly misjudged.” “You have no idea,” he murmured before his tongue laved against her.
His eyes opened and fixed on her, something profound, powerful in that look. He lowered her to the soft sand, and they lay that way for many breaths, the air between them heavy. If that had been almost unbearable in intensity, this—his look—was too much to take. He—did he see too much? No. No, it was fine, she was just… so much had happened today… To escape his gaze, she planted a kiss on his mouth, loosening her legs from around his hips. With a low sigh, he rolled onto his back, forearm over his eyes.
He FALLS FIRST BYE
A low chuckle shook through her. “Well, you were certainly more than I bargained for, Captain Blackwood.” He scoffed, and his arm dropped from his face. “Likewise, Pirate Queen. Bloody likewise.”
Lords, who was he fooling? He hadn’t wanted to resist anymore. Attraction had sparked between them since their first meeting, had fizzled in the air like black powder every time they were alone and sometimes when they weren’t. And yesterday she’d talked him down from his madness, she’d been kind and reassured him, albeit in her own irreverent way.
“Hearing you practically beg me to take you in that cave...” He shook his head, his traitorous hand gliding down to her breast. “Well, I never thought I’d hear the notorious Lady Vice beg for anything.” The notorious Lady Vice. He kept the teasing smile fixed in place even though his heart squeezed painfully.
“Yes, but I’ve seen you after FitzRoy, Aedan, that delicious young man at Kayracou, those women at Kaiman, but never have I seen you like this.”
If this is what being with Knigh’s like, maybe marrying Knighton Villiers wouldn’t have been so bad.
All she needed was someone else’s touch to remind her that he wasn’t anything special.
Such a self saboteur ! Ugh
Blackwood… Knigh… He made her grin like a loon. He soothed the snarling beast inside her that bristled at kindness or pity and kept her jokes hard, her tongue sharp. He could get close like Perry and Saba did, maybe even closer—his touch did that. Something about his warmth or the intimacy of shared breath and quiet conversations in the dark softened her and let him edge through.
“Love is weakness. Love makes you soft. Love is a fool’s game—it’ll only destroy you. Stick to the Navy and other ways to spend your time. Lust, desire, sex—they have all the enjoyment and none of the risk. It’s all just bodies.”
“I’d miss your warmth,” she said, voice low and velvety, no longer that tiny secret whisper. She turned his hand and let her finger circle the palm. “You’re always so warm”—she rolled to face him, only a few inches away, gaze following the motion of her fingertip, thoughtful—“I wonder if it’s part of your gift.”
It wasn’t an explicit admission of how much she cared, but her touch on each part of him and her praise felt like playful worship. The kind of worship on Calan Mai’s feast days, with its floral crowns and the chasing dance through the forest at night, full of laughter and lovers and quiet clearings. She didn’t say the exact words, but her attention said he was special all the same.
Grinning, he canted his head. “I didn’t realise you thought I was such a great wordsmith.” She chuckled and lowered herself against him, the gentle pressure teasing. “That wasn’t the angle I was going for.” “Ah”—he grabbed her rear and wrenched her hard against him, his breath catching—“then—then it’s my singing?” Cheeks a glorious shade of pink, more hot setting sun than delicate rose, she shook her head. “No, no, no.” With each word she ground against him, wrenching a groan from his throat. “I meant—” “I know exactly what you meant.” He chuckled against her lips before the kiss grew urgent,
...more
Disturb us, Ladies, to dare more boldly, To venture on wilder seas Where storms will show your mastery; Where losing sight of land, We shall find the stars.
“you might only spend time with people because you’re paid to, but the rest of us are capable of actually forming emotional attachments with other human beings.”
Damn
“Did you now? Well, I’m so glad I can be of help to you.” Her body shook; her neck corded. In the dim light, her eyes glistened. “You traitorous bloody bastard.”
“I didn’t murder her, you idiot.”
“I no more murdered her than you murdered the arrogant little boy you once were. Remember? Disturb us, Ladies, to dare more boldly, To venture on wilder seas Where storms will show Your mastery; Where losing sight of land, We shall find the stars.”
