Page 8 of The Heart of an Earl

She angled her head to look up at him, her look commanding. “Make it real.”

He yanked her hard against his body.

“And this.” She lifted her right hand and clasped it onto the back of his blade, sinking it against her own skin. With a harsh intake of breath, her head winced away at the pain, her whole body tightening against him, but she didn’t stop until a line of blood on her neck appeared.

Satisfied, she ran her fingers against blade, staining blood onto her thumb and fingers and then smearing a red stain across her cheek. Her look set forward. “Go.”

One breath to steel himself and Des kicked open the door.

The woman went crazy—screaming, squirming, clawing, trying to break free from his arm holding her captive.

So wild she broke his hold about her chest for a second.

She didn’t run, didn’t spin away from him, though her hands continued to claw at him.

An act. A good one.

He clamped down on his hold about her, hauling her tighter into him, picking her up.

Her feet started swinging, kicking him in the shins.

Bugger it, the wench.

Des strode into the thick of the battle on the deck, his voice booming. “Tell them.”

“Halt.” She screamed the word over the noise, her voice somehow louder than Des’s own. “Red Dragon—halt. Redthorn has surrendered. Toss yer weapons, mateys.”

The clanking of swords around them dwindled, the smattering of silence working its way in a ring to the outer edges of the deck.

With both hands she pulled down on his arm and Des set her feet onto the deck, though he kept her clamped to him, his bloody blade still long on her neck.

“Toss ‘em,Red Dragon. Toss ‘em blades or face Redthorn.” Her words echoed over the decks of the two ships connected with grappling hooks and rope, wood hull creaking against wood hull.

Swords clanked onto the deck to his left. To his right. In front of him.

His crewmates started rounding up theRed Dragonmen, shoving them to the far railing.

Captain Folback made his way to Des, his thick hand going to Des’s shoulder as he looked at the woman still captive in his arm. “Well done, lad. Where’s the captain?”

Des leaned to Captain Folback’s ear, his voice a low whisper. “Dead. Don’t let it be known till you secure the lot of them.”

Captain Folback nodded, sheathing his cutlass and stepping away from Des to manage the prisoners he was about to secure. They’d be shackled in the hold of theRed Dragonand then the pirate crew would be delivered to Nevis where the lot of them would be hanged.

Des looked down at the head of the woman he still held clutched to him.

“Captain.” Des’s gaze moved to Captain Folback.

Folback turned and looked at him, his wiry left eyebrow lifting.

“The girl.” He nodded downward with his head. “She’s mine, Captain.”

Captain Folback laughed, slapping his hand on his thigh. “Good t’ see ye take an interest for once, Des.” His look went to the woman. “Ye just earned yerself first mate and Johnson’s cabin, as he’ll be taking over this ship. She’s in yer room, yer responsibility. Hellcat, that one. I saw her fighting earlier. Keep her under control.”

The woman tensed in front of Des, the slip of her body going rigid.

She’d just taken a chance she had no right to entertain—trading one nefarious crew for a wholly unpredictable one. They weren’t saints. Not a one of them.

But it’d been her only option.

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