Synopsis:

When Isla swipes a purse, she has no idea of the identify of her victim - one of the most feared pirate captains of the seas. Herded and chased, Isla hides … only to find she's taken refuge on his ship. Now his captive, what will he do with her?

Full Story (30k Words)

Excerpt:

A comfortable prison was still a prison.

Isla pulled out one of the hefty chairs and flopped into it with a sigh. There was nothing she could use save for the knife she’d stolen, and even that would require a lucky blow. But then what? Even if she managed to stab one man, she was on a frigate with two hundred sailors.

He kept her waiting for two hours, most likely to give her imagination time to conjure the worst possible outcomes. But damn him, she refused to be cowed. At last the door opened, and Henrik entered. Standing a little over six feet tall, he had broad shoulders beneath a long brocade coat, worn over a waistcoat and shirt. His black beard was plaited into two prongs, fastened with gold rings, and his equally black hair cascaded loosely down to his shoulders.

Isla watched him warily as he pulled his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the door. His sleeveless shirt revealed a tattoo winding around his right arm, a disturbing blend of an octopus and a snake. Isla frowned. Something about it had the hairs at the back of her neck prickling.

He crossed the cabin, folding his arms over his chest as he studied her for several long breaths, taking in her long, loose shirt, breeches and boots. His lips twitched. She glared back at him.

“Who are you?” he asked in his cultured tone, his voice mellow and smooth. He was likely a minor son of some noble family, pursuing a prestigious career path after purchasing a commission. She couldn’t place his accent.

She pressed her lips together.

He raised an eyebrow. “Your name, lass. Let’s pick our battles.”

“Isla.”

He nodded, but didn’t offer his. “Where’s the pouch you stole?”

She held his gaze impassively, seeing the paleness of his blue eyes, the gradual build of his amusement at her silence. Damn him for mocking her. She looked away and sniffed.

“No answer?”

No, she wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of another answer. Besides, ‘go fuck yourself’ wasn’t a wise response in her current predicament.

“Fine. I’ll whip the answer out of you, then.”

Isla glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was bluffing. He hadn’t moved, his expression carefully masked. He looked capable of carrying out his threat.

“I hid it,” she said.

“You did, did you?” He smiled, as if finding her entertaining. “Care to tell me where?”

“You won’t find it. If you let me go, I’ll tell you where it is.” It was worth a try.

“Let you go?” Henrik laughed. Then he opened his arms wide, as if gesturing to the sea that surrounded them beyond the walls of his cabin. “You can leave whenever you want. Do you swim that well?”

“My freedom and a rowboat, and I’ll tell you where your jewel is hidden.”

Henrik chuckled, as if enjoying something. Her, most likely. “My jewel, you say?” He took a step toward her, almost invading her space, and looked down at her. “You don’t know what you’ve stolen, do you?” His voice was soft, barely more than a murmur. “You’re just an opportunistic cutpurse, aren’t you? By the Gods, how did you even know it was there?”

Isla wasn’t just an opportunistic cutpurse, she was the best Gods-damned cutpurse. His question was strange, and she met his gaze with disdain. “It was dangling off your belt. Difficult to miss.”

He stared at her for a long moment, something in his expression that she couldn’t place. Surprise? Curiosity? Interest? She couldn’t tell. But his eyes were intense, and it was she who looked away first.

“Do you know what we do with stowaways aboard the Black Serpent?”

Isla lifted her chin. “I’m not a stowaway. Your men carried me on to this ship. You kidnapped me.”

He grinned. “Do you know what we do with stowaways, and those we kidnap?”