Page 32 of A Flash of Golden Fire

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he covered his mouth, presumably to hide a traitorous smile.

I wanted to kill him. Huge cock and commanding attitude aside, he’d colluded in murder.

“Simon,” he said. “I’m so sorry. But we have to eat.”

This was true, and meat was prized above all else. I couldn’t blame the cook, in truth. But I wish I’d fucking known.

I nodded, too upset to speak and too tired to argue.

“Perhaps we should go to bed.”

I felt as if the hot bath, the food, and the shocking revelation about my chooks had depleted me of everything I’d had left.

“Yes, Captain,” I said. I walked to the bed and climbed under the covers, curling my body around a pillow and staring at the planked wall. I listened as the captain took the wooden tray with the dirty dishware and placed it in the hall, then closed and locked the door. He turned down the lamps and blessed darkness filled the space. I felt the mattress dip as he crawled under the sheets with me.

He sighed and pushed a stray hair off my forehead.

“Simon Bartholomew White. My charming little rooster. What am I going to do with you?”

“What haven’t you done already?” I asked.

“I’ve barely started,” he said and scooped me into his arms, pulling my naked body against his and kissing me below the ear. “Go to sleep now. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

The creaking of the hull and the softness of the mattress, as well as the deep breathing of the pirate captain, lulled me into the depths of slumber.

Chapter Four

Guinevere

Iwoke to sunlight and the sounds of muted conversation. The gentle roll of the ship and the captain’s calming presence had soothed me into a deep and restful sleep—the first I’d had in a long, long while.

The winds had picked up, and we were moving at last.

It took me a moment to remember where I was, but the soft sheets and the lingering scents of sweat and our fucking reminded me. As did the fact that I wasn’t sprawled half out of a hammock in the darkness of the lower berths.

I heard voices. One was the captain’s, and the other I didn’t recognize. I feigned sleep so I could hear what they were saying in subdued tones so as not to wake me.

“This is a safe spot?”

“Aye. It’s quite sheltered, and I doubt there’ll be any trouble. We can set here for a few days, clean and repair what needs done, enjoy the good weather, and then head out again, end of the week.”

I opened my eyes and rolled over, squinting in the brightness and making out two forms standing by Captain’s Martin’s desk.

“Will we go to Tortuga?” the captain asked the fellow who was with him.

As my vision focused, I recognized theArrow’squartermaster, Donatello. He wasn’t a bad looking man either, and if I’d failed with the captain, I might have had a go for him.

“I think that would be wise. We can always raid a ship if we find a likely one, but we’ll need proper supplies, which we can get there.”

Donatello glanced over and saw me. His expression remained calm, as if discovering a young man naked in the captain’s bed was nothing to remark upon.

He elbowed the captain’s arm and gestured toward me. “The lad is awake, sir.”

I went up on one elbow and scratched my scalp. “Hello.”

Captain Martin smiled at me.

“Good morning, Simon White.”

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