Alphas of Black Fortune Complete Series (4 page)

It was quite an unexpected turn of events, but James Kelly was nothing if not lucky. Very, very lucky. And he did not think that ten thousand gold was going to make much of a difference, not after he got his hands on the treasure he really had in mind.

And now it looked, by all accounts, like he’d spent that exorbitant amount on Cressida — who, he would have admitted freely, was well worth ten thousand gold pieces. But she had not been what he was after. Well, insomuch as he had not been hunting her. She was
always
something he was after, but he’d have preferred her to come to him willingly instead of in irons. Still, he’d take her now he had her. He’d told her all along that she should give up the foolish fancy of having a ship of her own. No pirate crew would let a woman lead them very long.

When James saw the slave break through the chains’ latch, whatever doubts he might have been harboring had fled. They’d made careful calculations, and correspondence with his agents in the East had proved helpful, if not concrete or well-timed. Letters were unreliable, especially at sea, but when they’d come across the gutted carcass of the merchant clipper and her crew in its brig, he’d known he was close. And only a few hours behind the
Black Fortune
.

The lads had not relished falling upon the oars to get them to New Providence in time, but they’d done the work. They trusted him. His crew were all that was left of his family, and he theirs, and this life was not one they had chosen for themselves. He wanted to give them better. He could never give them what they’d lost, but he could give them better. And it was this strange-eyed slave, he thought, who could lead him to it.

Cressida, his hot-blooded sea goddess, was a very generous bonus.

The look on her face when he told Carver the purse was for them both, James thought, was a mixture of bewilderment and horror. The slave holding her, however, had a gritty, determined glint in his eyes that James knew would be problematic moving forward.

“Well,” he said impatiently to Carver. “Get it done, then.”

The butcher bent down and scooped up the purse with a nod, then went to unlock Cressida’s chains from the block. He latched her and the slave together, just as they’d arrived, and James watched them out of the corner of his eye as he signed the paperwork and laid claim to their lives. They were forged papers, of course, but they were something to wave around when needed.

His men, Cort and Harry, were already pulling the two down from the platform by the chains, and James was actually relieved when he saw Cressida faint dead away in the slave’s arms. Weight holding the slave down for the time being, if nothing else.

The breeze shifted, bustling through the market, and the slave’s eyes widened. James figured he must have finally caught their scent. He finished settling with Carver and tucked the papers into the inside pocket of his vest, turning with a crook of his fingers to draw Cort and Harry, and their prizes, out of the crowd and back towards the docks.

“Put her in my quarters,” he told the lads. “And him in the brig. Lay double the irons upon him.”

James was lucky, not an idiot. And he’d expected the slave to say something, but the man said not a word. Perhaps he was more cautious than clever, James thought, which could also be dangerous.

The
Oso Armonia
, James’ ship, sat out a ways in the bay, an East Indiaman too big to maneuver through the shallows to the pier. They filed into the dinghy, Cort and Harry settling at the oars, and James drew a pistol, kept level between the slave’s eyes, as he sat on the prow with Cressida slumped in his arms.

As they clipped the waves, plowing out toward the ship, the slave finally spoke. He looked up from a study of Cressida’s face, meeting James’ eyes.

“I know what you are,” he said simply.

James nodded. “And I know what
you
are.”

“I won’t help you.”

James shrugged. “We’ll see about that. I’m Captain James Kelly. Do you have a name?”

“Reza.”

“Well, Reza. The sea is a fickle mother, as you’ve no doubt already come to understand. She is perhaps even crueler than her bitch of a sister, Fate, and her bastard brother Fortune. One if not all of these three siblings has brought you here to me, and into my care.”

“I do not believe in such things,” Reza muttered.

“You’re outnumbered,” James said simply. “Believe in that.”

Reza said nothing more, and soon enough they had arrived at the ship’s side and were being hauled up to the deck. James gave orders to have them haul anchor and put New Providence to their backs as soon as possible. There were greater adventures to see to.

When Cressida regained her senses, the gentle roll of the world around her told her swiftly that she was once again at sea. And the soft bedding beneath her did not do anything to belay the panic that immediately clenched her heart. She sat up at once, already knowing precisely where she was, but no less horrified to find that she was right.

James’ quarters were at once well-appointed and well-lived in. The
Oso Armonia
was a large ship, and the captain’s suite reflected as much. It was nearly twice the size of her quarters on the
Black Fortune
, a sprawling room with a grand oak table where the officers ate nightly, on silver plates that Kelly had once bragged to her had been stolen from a royal vessel right in the London docks.

She was still dressed in naught but her sleeping shirt, and found it oddly comforting that Kelly had not gone about dressing her while she lay unconscious. She wouldn’t have put it past him. He was a clever, domineering man with specific tastes, and he was not shy. Which was all well and good when she’d had a ship of her own to go back to once their fun was done. Now that he could reasonably presume to
own
her, she was sure it wouldn’t be so charming.

A rustle from across the cabin drew her attention.

James was getting to his feet at a writing desk, setting aside a letter and quill. He ambled toward her, relaxed and smiling. It was the first time she could remember disliking that smile.

And not because it was a bad smile. Just because she could think of nothing to smile about, and yet he plainly could.

“You’re a pig,” she told him curtly.

That smile broadened. “I rather fancied myself a hero.”

“Oh yes, very heroic. Your ten thousand gold did all the work, Kelly, not you.”

He put a hand over his heart, as if wounded. “Don’t be mean, Cress.”

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

He sank to a seat on the edge of the grand four-poster bed she’d awoken in, and she tugged a little at the coverlet, keeping her legs out of sight.

“It seemed to me you were in a bit of trouble,” he murmured, dark eyes traveling over her so intently that she felt her face flush.

“I would have been fine,” she insisted.

“Are you trying to tell me that you would have preferred to have been purchased by some toothless, rutting scalliwag instead of me?” He leaned in a little, an eyebrow arching. “Really?”

“I would have skewered the dog who bought me,” Cressida bit out. “And may yet.”

“My love, I am not the one who has betrayed you.”

“Where is Reza?”

He sat back a little, a look of increased interest sparkling through his dark brown eyes. “You sit nearly naked before me, and you ask about the slave?”

“Don’t you hurt him, Kelly. He’s done you no wrong at all.”

“I’ve no intention of hurting him.”

“I want you to set us free. This
instant
. Hand over those papers.”

When he laughed at that, she gritted her teeth, some combination of desperation and pride taking hold, and she kicked the coverlet off her legs and lunged at him, intent on wrestling the documents from the vest pocket she’d seen him stow them in earlier.

This plan of course did not take into account that they were likely half a day off from New Providence now, in some broad stretch of ocean with no land for leagues. It wasn’t much of a plan at all—it was just the instinct in her to fight and survive, and she had never before felt it so keenly.

Kelly got his arms around her even as she tackled him to the bed, clawing at his waistcoat. She got her hand in the vest pocket, but then he laughed and flipped her right over onto her back, pinning her to the blankets, hands firm on her wrists. He was much, much stronger than she remembered him being, but then in their affairs he’d never before been trying to restrain her. Still, she kicked at him, twisting to get free of his grip, but after a few moments he would have none of it, and climbed atop her on the bed, pinning down her legs with his knees.

“Stop it,” he said, frowning.

She jerked again beneath him, then fell back with a huff. “Swine.”

“You’re the one who just attacked
me
,” he pointed out.

“I refuse to be your slave, Kelly.” She said it firmly and resolutely and tried to sound as intimidating as possible when pinned to a bed underneath him.

“Good, because I don’t believe I would adore you so much if you were thusly tamed,” he murmured, and there that smile reappeared on his lips.

Confusion and then doubt crept in, as Cressida watched him smile, and then he bent down slowly, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder bared by the nightshirt she wore. It sent a thrill through her, damn him.

“So you’re going to set me free?” she asked, voice suddenly thick even to her own ears.

She felt his smile sharpen against her skin, his breath hot as he kissed her shoulder again, and then lifted his head a little to kiss her neck. “Better.”

“Stop it, I want my ship back,” she mumbled, trying to knee him. But when she shifted her leg he lifted his, sliding smoothly between her thighs, and she gasped as she felt his teeth graze the flesh of her throat. His hips were against hers, too, and now she could feel how hard he was already.

“Better than that too,” he said lowly.

“What,” she asked, a bit breathless, “could
possibly
be better than my ship?”

Kelly lifted his head and grinned down at her. She was struck by how playful he seemed suddenly. There was a delight in his rich brown eyes that she could not remember having ever seen before, as though he’d kept it secret all this time, though they had found themselves in a similar position on many occasions. Well, not
quite
so similar, not quite so…binding.

“James,” she whispered. “Please…”

“Treasure,” he told her, eyes flashing with purpose. “We’re going to find treasure together, Cress, and then I will set you free
and
help you get the
Black Fortune
back.”

The word
treasure
was like an opiate to any pirate. It was at once a fantasy, a dream, and the secret hope of every pillaged ship. A hidden chest of gold. A relic of impossible value.

Kelly leaned down and kissed her, his mouth hot and demanding, and her lips parted against his, tongues meeting as passion ignited within her. There was something irresistible about him, and when paired with that simple word and the promise of it in his eyes,
treasure
, Cressida felt her resolve to kill him and escape ebb. Moreover, he didn’t seem interested in hurting her or abusing her. If this kiss was any indication, and if he really intended to help her, it seemed quite the opposite. But how could one be sure?

There was a saying about honey and vinegar, and Cressida arched a little against Kelly, pressing her hips to his and he growled deep in his throat, desirous. She found herself thinking of Reza suddenly, unbidden, when she heard that growl. There was something similar about it, about these men who wanted her and made such noises in their passion, but she couldn’t determine it precisely. And certainly her body had no intention of letting her
mind
control this moment. Still, negotiation in the bedroom was a woman’s purview, and gift.

“What kind of treasure?” she asked as the kiss broke. She lifted her knees to either side of his hips and wrapped her legs around him.

She thought this display of willingness would earn her the use of her hands, but he shifted, bringing her wrists together and holding them with one large hand above her head. With his free hand, he reached between them, yanking loose the laces of his trousers, his eyes fierce with desire as they met hers.

“I have a map,” he told her.

She tugged a little at his grip. “Release me, James, it’s more fun that way…”

He grinned again. “No, I like you like this. It’s new.”

She rolled her eyes. “You
are
a pig.”

He laughed, and abandoned his trousers for a moment, instead shifting atop her. And then he slid a pair of his fingers inside her sex, and she trembled as pleasure filled her along with them. “If I am a pig, what does that make you?”

He withdrew his fingers and held them up for her to see. They glistened, wet, in the candlelight. Betrayed by her own body, by her own lust, she simply smiled back at him.

“I bedded the slave,” she whispered, writhing a little to entice him. “He’s a better lay than you, Kelly.”

And entice him it did. His expression darkened only by a fraction, and he tugged his trousers down off his hips before roughly pushing his engorged cock right into her. She gasped, laughing, as he growled again and pushed himself deeper inside her.

“Good,” he grunted. He pushed deeper. She tightened her legs around him. “Then he’ll be more pliable.”

Cressida liked a fuck with a little anger behind it. She twisted again at his grip on her wrists, but he would not have it. With his free hand, he yanked the collar of her nightshirt down, exposing one large, rounded breast, and teased at her nipple with his thumb as he pulled out of her slick sex, and then plunged right back in.

A moan escaped her throat. “What does that mean?” she asked, breath coming hard now. “Pliable?”

Kelly leaned down to suckle at her breast. She tilted her head back, eyes closing, and gulped down a breath against the rolling tide of her pleasure. His thrusts were slow, and her thighs quivered as he retreated and re-entered her, again and again, and she felt his tongue circling the peak of her nipple.

He lifted his head. “We need him to help us read the map.”

And then she understood. “Fuck.”

“I
am
,” Kelly snickered.

She lifted her head to glare at him. “You never intended to buy me. You intended to buy
him
.”

Kelly squeezed her breast with his large hand, smirking down at her as he then slid his hand along her side and underneath her buttocks. He lifted her slightly as he eased out of her cunt, and then drove right back in, hard enough this time that she bucked reflexively and moaned again, gasping.

“You are a delicious second prize,” he told her through gritted teeth, and even as she mewled softly, her approaching climax a haze, she could see that he was close as well.

“Damn you,” she managed to hiss.

He let out what she could only describe as half a laugh and half a groan, and then began pumping into her apace, their hips grinding together, the sound of their bodies meeting a hard smack that seemed to echo in her ears with every delicious slide of him inside her. Her breathing turned to desperate gasps and his to audible grunts of effort and pleasure, and at last he released her wrists in favor of gripping her hips with both hands as he plowed into her.

She came twice, gripping the bedclothes, her sex an ache between her thighs, before he finished with a lasting moan of triumph. Then he flagged, sinking down upon her, and pressed his face to her throat as they throbbed together, still conjoined. She passed her hands over the broad expanse of his back, feeling the roll of his thick muscles through the fabric of his shirt, each breath moving thickly through him.

“Treasure,” he whispered into her hair. “And freedom, Cress. These are the things I offer you.”

She said nothing in reply, for the time being. Raw and tender from their intercourse, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities and problems and cloudy with satisfaction, she knew better than to promise him a damned thing as they lay like this. But she did think, again, of Reza. And then, of course, of Kelly, as he nuzzled her. There was something…

But it would have to wait.