A Pirate's Bounty: A Devils of the Deep Novella (Ahoy!)



Wraith was called to the stern while Faryn splashed water on her face.

Her whole body was numb, yet it tingled all the same, and every time she recollected the ring, her stomach protested. But seeing as how she’d already emptied it, there was nothing left for her to toss up. So she sat, huddled in a ball on the corner of the bed, against the wall, totally in limbo.

How could she bring Wraith to her family now? Knowing that her own father had been the one to murder his family…

She hoped and prayed they never set foot in Ireland after tonight’s discovery.

Her father would try to kill Wraith. To finish the job he’d started so many years ago. This had to be a mistake. Someone must have stolen the ring… But even as she thought it, she could recall witnessing her father on the battlefield, seeing him be ruthless at a meeting of lords. If he felt at all threatened, he was merciless.

And once Wraith found out who the ring belonged to, he would never look at her the same again. Her father was a cold-blooded murderer. Wraith would unknowingly resent her, put the blame for his family’s death on her.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and took a few long, slow breaths. What was she to do? She didn’t want to leave Wraith. She didn’t want him to get hurt or worse. She didn’t want him to hate her… With that, she came to a startling realization, a strong tug in her chest and a lump in her throat. She’d come to love him. For all they’d only known each other a short time, he was the only man who’d ever made her feel special, important, cared for.

She couldn’t let him walk to his own death. She had to stop him.

Was it best to steer him away? But how could she? When he discovered the crest was her family’s, there would be no stopping him. He knew who her father was, where her family’s keep was located.

If only she could convince him to go to the Lord Chancellor of Ireland first. Viscount Loftford spoke for the King of England, which was also the King of Ireland. He would be able to resolve this matter.

Aye! That was it. She would convince him to go to the Lord Chancellor first, before taking her home—except she didn’t even want to go home, now. Not ever. But that was beside the point. Right now, she had to figure out a way to save Wraith. Viscount Loftford was the key. While there, she would seek an audience with the man herself. She would confess that she recognized the ring. She would tell him of her father’s deeds. And then she would drop to her knees in front of Wraith, beg his forgiveness, swear to him she hadn’t known.

And pray pray pray he believed her and took mercy on her.

Wraith stood at the helm of his ship and peered through the telescope at the far-off shore of Ireland. Clew Bay was their destination. A port town that was rife with pirate activity, but there was no need to draw attention to themselves. When the sun set, they would lay anchor at sea, and just before dawn, sail into the northern beach of Keel, and from there make their way south on horseback to from the west coast to the east coast, and Dublin. ’Twas necessary for his own safety and that of his crew that they not dock close to where he needed to meet the Lord Chancellor. Most of his crew would remain aboard the ship, and if he did not return within the allotted time, they would retreat.

Already they’d taken down his pirate’s flag and replaced it with a regular sail in case they were spotted. There was nothing to distinguish them as friend or foe, and he hoped that they ran into no other ships before laying anchor.

One more night with Faryn.

That was all he had until he returned her to her family and made his way to the Lord Chancellor. He’d spent years at sea, dreaming of the moment he could bring justice for his parents and himself to light. And here it was.

So, why did it feel like a knife twisting in his gut? He rubbed the imaginary soreness and indicated to Churl that he was going below deck to his quarters. “Let the men be merry tonight, for just before dawn we dock and our true adventure begins.”

He descended the ladder and paused outside his cabin door. How would he say goodbye to her?

Was he becoming such a dim-witted fancy pants? Never had a woman made him feel this way before. He refused to put his feelings into words. He shook his head and opened the door.

Faryn sat on the bed, curled up into a little ball, looking lost and forlorn.

Perhaps the lass needed a bit of what he sought.

“A glass of whisky?” he asked, walking to an armoire that housed drinking cups and liquor.

Her eyes lit up at his suggestion. “Aye, please. I’ve only ever had wine and ale before.”

He chuckled a bit at the excitement in her voice. “Drink it slowly. ’Twill warm your belly and soothe your mind.” He pulled out the whisky and poured a healthy portion for himself and a smaller splash for Faryn. He handed her the cup. “To us.” A sweet smile curved her lips, making him want to take her in his arms and kiss her. Not just any kiss but the kiss of a man in lov—

He shook his head and slugged back the entire cup of spirits, letting it burn its way down his throat until it sat hot in his belly.

She too slugged back the liquor, and screwed up her face with distaste. “Whew!” she breathed. “I had thought ye sipped it.”

Wraith let his head fall back with a laugh that burst from the center of his being. The little imp had watched him chug his drink and followed suit, thinking that the proper way.

“What? Was I not supposed to?” Her nose wrinkled and she looked genuinely concerned.

He only laughed harder.

She stood and her hands went to her hips, her brows furrowed. “Captain, I demand ye tell me what ye’re laughing at!”

“Ye, leannan. Ye are exactly the balm this hard-hearted pirate needs.”

He did kiss her then, his mouth covering hers, his tongue sweeping in to claim her for his own. She tasted of sweet whisky and femininity. He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he laid her, before coming down on top of her, not breaking their kiss.

Faryn sighed against him, arms circling around him. Ever willing and excited to make love to him. It only made his heart swell thicker in his chest. Slowly he tugged the white linen shirt she wore from her body, before he caressed her breasts and nipples, letting his mouth fall where his hands had splayed. She tensed and arched against him as he nuzzled her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, grazing it with his teeth.

She explored his skin and he trembled beneath her touch, loving the way she boldly and tenderly caressed him. Tugging at his belt, she somehow managed to remove it and then shimmied his breeches down over his thighs and he kicked them to the floor.

She nipped at his neck, licked his lobe and pressed kisses to his face.

Eliza Knight's books