The Wicked Ways of Alexander Kidd (The MacGregors: Highland Heirs) (6 page)

The captain chuckled in her face. “Ya think I’m goin’ to turn me ship around and sail all the way back to Scotland?”

“Aye, and avoid a battle with my kin,” she stated, hoping it would sway him.

He moved up against her again, sending hot fissures down her spine, and curled his arm around her waist. His grip was filled with strength and tension, yet gentle when he pulled her closer. “Miss Grant.” His breath scorched across her lips, hypnotizing her, paralyzing her. “I’ve had the Royal Navy on me arse. I don’t care about yar kin comin’ after me. Still, I’d prefer not to battle me father’s friend.”

In an instant the gravity of what she had done became clear. Her kin would indeed come after her and he wasn’t afraid. He was obviously mad, not in his right state of mind. Nevertheless, her kin could die in a battle on the sea. “Then…” She arched her back to get away from him. He moved in over her. What would a madman do with her? With Kyle? She needed to know. “What d’ye plan on doing with me?”

He gave her no time to think, to catch her breath, to pull away… if she had a mind and the strength to do so.

Caitrina had been kissed a few years back by young
John MacKinnon. But she knew, as the captain’s beguiling mouth dipped down to hers, that this kiss was going to be very very different.

And hell, she was correct.

There was nothing gentle or curious about it. His mouth covered hers with dominance and scalding heat while he dragged her in against the rigid, flat lines of his body. His tongue teased against her lips, licking, tasting her, tempting her to join in his sweet madness. Like that flame, he swept over her, consuming her muscles, scorching her nerve endings. He kissed her until she began to believe he had every right to do so—until her knees went weak and a slight, pitiful gasp escaped her lips.

He finally broke away with a slow, seductive smile she wanted to gaze at for years to come.

She slapped him hard across his face, lest he think to take further liberties in the future—since she hadn’t stopped him the first time.

For a moment, something dark and fully seductive moved across his features. She thought, trying to slow her heartbeat, that he might either strangle her or rip the gown from her body and have his way with her.

“Fergive me,” he said roughly and without a trace of remorse. “I misjudged. I don’t bed children.”

Her mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed into slits. Here she thought he was being gallant, when he was simply being insulting. Children! How dare he imply that she wasn’t yet a woman! “I should slap ye again fer yer insult,” she seethed.

“Do it,” he provoked her with a sinful, sinuous smile, “and the beast that I am at this moment keepin’ at bay will more than likely haul ya up against that wall and take ya, despite yar protests.”

She felt the color drain from her face. She couldn’t breathe, or think, or speak, blushing and stammering about for something to say. The images he conjured for her frightened and thrilled her out of her skin at the same time. She didn’t like being threatened but she wasn’t a fool to test him.

“I shouldna’ have put my hand to ye,” she said softly, lowering her gaze. “’Twas wrong of me.”

He took her hand, compelling her to look up again, into his eyes. He brought her hand to his face and spread her palm over his prickly cheek where she’d slapped him, letting her feel his smile. Was she forgiven that easily? Could he possibly be so easy to bend to her will… at least until she got the hell off the ship? She had no choice but to leave. Either that or lose herself, or worse, her kin to him. She would be kind to him and flirtatious if it would keep him from tossing her and Kyle overboard—if it gained her what she wanted, that is, getting back home and saving her family, she would do anything.

“May we please speak of my accommodations whilst…”

He tilted his head to laugh, like a wolf calling to the moon. She filled her vision with the beautiful sight of him and forgot what she’d said to cause his humor. While it was coming back to her, a knock sounded on the door.

“Aye?” the captain called out.

Once again, Mr. Pierce appeared at the entrance. “Ya have a guest.”

The captain’s eyes fell to her. “Another one?”

Trina’s breath tore madly through her chest.

“Aye.” Pierce shoved Kyle into the cabin. “I’m havin’ the men sweep the ship fer any more of ’em.”

Trina wanted to weep when her cousin marched toward her. He didn’t look well. He appeared quite greenish in fact. This was all her fault. He was right. She was
trouble. The crew would be even more likely to kill him than they were her.

“We agreed to remain together, Trina.” It was a whisper, but she heard it.

“I didna’ wish to wake ye,” she explained softly as he passed her.

“Quite an interestin’ day this is turnin’ out to be, aye, Sam?” the captain said, reminding them that he was there. “Two outlaws, proscribed by kings, and who know about me map, stow away aboard me ship to rob me and both of them fall asleep.”

Trina shook her head at him. “We hadna’ slept in more than six and twenty hours. We were weary. And I told ye we didna’ come here fer yer map.”

“What ya told me,” he corrected her, then eyed Kyle when he swayed on his feet, “was that
ya
did not come here to steal it. Ya did not tell me about him. As much as I’d like to believe ya, I don’t.”

Before she could reply, he returned to his bed and kicked off his boots. “Sam, put them in the hold until I decide what to do with them and hurry, this one looks like he’s about to puke all over me floor.”

Pierce produced a pistol from a fold in his coat. “Let’s go then.”

The hold? Nae! Trina whirled around to look the captain in the face. “Ye would chain us to the floor in a hold without enough room to stand?”

He nodded and met her murderous glare with a hard, unyielding one of his own. For the briefest of moments he turned his eyes away from her. She would have missed it if she blinked. But she didn’t blink.

“Until I decide what to do with ya is what I said, Miss Grant.”

She wanted to claw his eyes out. Take out her dagger and fling it into his chest. Och, why had she studied books on ships and learned enough to know what, besides piss and manure and rats and bars, the hold usually contained?

“Sam,” he said to his quartermaster, “have the men remove the bones of me last prisoners and make room fer these two.”

“Captain!” she appealed one more time.

“Ya stowed away on me ship, and after I came into possession of a map to a priceless treasure. Give me one reason to trust ya?”

She couldn’t. She couldn’t think. “Bastard!” she snarled at him while Pierce led her away. “I hope my faither kills ye!”

That was all she could say before her captor slammed the door in her face and pulled her down the stairs.

There was no light in the hold. But there was Kyle. He shouldn’t have followed her. Now he was sick as a dog.

“Fergive me fer getting us into this,” she whispered to him later that night while he emptied his belly into a basket close by.

“I do.” He told her softly. “I understand why ye came here.”

In the darkness Trina smiled. She stretched her shackled arm, trying to reach a pin in her hair.

Of course he understood. He knew her better than anyone in Camlochlin, anyone on Skye. And she knew him. Kyle’s natural instincts yearned for the new and unfamiliar. What could be more scintillating to him than digging around the mind of Captain Kidd and his unlawful crew?

If they both wanted to stay, who the hell would stop her kin from coming?

A
lex opened his eyes to his morning hangover and cursed the new day.

Until he remembered the treasure he’d come into possession of the day before. He sat up and, leaving the bed, he pushed aside a small trapdoor in the wall. With a quickening heart, he expelled an iron strong box from its hiding place. A gift from the daughter of a sultan, it was designed with three locks and hidden keyholes as well as being booby-trapped. He didn’t need to open it to see the map his father left him. He knew it was inside. As long as the box was here, so was the map. He still couldn’t believe his father had left it to him. But Andersen had told him that William Kidd had understood why his son hadn’t returned to his ship when they’d docked in Lisbon those many years ago. He’d understood that Alex had fallen in love and had wanted to begin his life with his woman. His father had never known how the woman his son loved had betrayed him.

But none of that mattered now. He had the map to his father’s last treasure. But it was more than that. It was his
father’s exoneration, his forgiveness, and that was more priceless than any ship loaded with riches.

He’d studied the map last night, learning which direction to take to the
Quedagh Merchant
. He knew the location well, having spent many years in the West Indies and the Caribbean. He thought about the tales Andersen had told him about his father and was happy that his life continued to be an adventure.

His good mood cooled when he remembered what else he’d come into possession of. He needed to get rid of his two thieving guests before they set sail for the Indies. He almost regretted leaving Andersen on Skye. His father’s boatswain could have looked after the two Highlanders in France and gotten them home without incident. But the Dutchman had to be left behind. Alex didn’t need him anymore and he certainly didn’t trust him now that he had something so valuable on board. His father had always told him that a man would do anything for treasure, even turn against his captain, and thanks to Madalena Barros, he’d learned that a woman would do even more. He wanted Miss Grant off his boat.

“Come,” Alex called out when a knock came at his door. He hoped it was Cooper with his breakfast.

He swore when Sam came inside.

“What are we goin’ to do about Miss Grant and Mr. MacGregor?” his best friend asked him, throwing himself in Alex’s chair. “I don’t like chainin’ women in the hold.”

“I don’t intend on keepin’ them down there fer too long,” Alex said, returning the box inside the wall. “I don’t know what they’re up to yet. What are they really doin’ on me ship?” He turned to Sam while he began dressing for the day. His quartermaster offered him no answers. Reaching for his bandanna, Alex tied it around his head,
then followed with two sashes of bright green and purple around his waist. He tucked his cutlass between the sashes and his breeches, secured a smaller dagger to a clip up his sleeve, and hid a pistol inside his boot.

Sam chuckled, watching him. “A bit overdone, aye?”

Alex shook his head. “Do ya ferget who those two are or where they come from? She shot an arrow straight through me favorite hat and tore it from me head.” She beguiled him with a set of huge blue eyes and a mouth made for kissing. And hell, but he’d kissed her. He couldn’t remember a more passionate response from any woman in a long time. When she’d slapped him a moment later, her strike snapped like a whip across his flesh… Hell, he could have taken her right there. She was temptation incarnate. If she had come for his map, she would likely get it if he continued kissing her. She was the most dangerous kind of woman: the kind to whom a man would eventually give anything… even his treasure.

Sam quirked his mouth to one side and gave Alex a knowing look. “Is that why she’s in the hold and not in yar bed?”

He clenched his teeth at the thought of her in his bed, beneath him and astride him, thoughts that plagued him since the first night he saw her in the fog. “Aye. I don’t want her tryin’ to kill me whilst I—”

The cabin door flew open and Jack Hanson, Alex’s hulking master gunner, towered in the frame, interrupting their talk. “The prisoners ’ave escaped.”

Alex and Samuel rushed to the door. “What the hell do ya mean they’ve escaped?” Sam demanded.

Alex stormed past them both and stepped out onto the quarterdeck. The news didn’t shock him. He should have expected it. It angered him that he’d allowed Caitrina
Grant’s beauty… her full, ripe mouth… to dull his wits. Even now, the memory of her in his arms, fearless but submissive, softened his resolve. He reined it back in. She’d lied to him. She’d wanted more than to simply see his ship. What did she want? He looked over his shoulder at his cabin door. “Jack,” he called out. “Ya and two others guard me cabin. Sam, relieve the helm.”

“Three of us fer a boy and a woman?” Jack asked him.

“They’re resourceful,” Alex told him. “Don’t underestimate them. Remember their clan survived a three-hundred-year proscription.”

Jack gaped at him like he’d just sprouted a second head. “A three-’undred-year what, Cap’n?”

Alex turned toward the bow while the winds picked up and snatched his hair from his shoulders. Where were they? Did they jump overboard? He stepped onto the main deck and barked orders to his mates, who were waiting there for instruction. “Don’t kill them. Bring them to me when ya find them.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

He watched them head off to their work then pondered his unwanted guests. Where would they have gone? He returned to the aft and the galley at the far end. He doubted they’d jumped. They didn’t strike him as imbeciles. They hadn’t escaped the hold just to hide again. How the hell did they escape the hold? He shook his head and smiled just a little, impressed with their competence. They had to be hungry.

He moved, ears alerted to sounds coming from the darkness. He made his way along the narrow hall to the galley and was promptly struck on the head from behind. He didn’t go down but it was only due to his excellent sense of balance. He saw stars… and a host of other odd
things swimming about his head. He shook them away and ducked just in time to avoid another blow. Coming back up, he turned and sent his blackest glare at his attacker, caught in the light of the porthole. He didn’t waste time talking but pulled his pistol free and aimed it at her. “Turn around and head fer the stairs, Miss Grant, and while ye’re doin’ it, tell me where Mr. MacGregor is.”

He cocked the lock when she didn’t move. She obeyed.

“My cousin is right behind ye.”

Alex hoped she was bluffing but the tip of a blade in his back proved she was very serious. His grin was dagger sharp. He remained very still. These two were trained fairly well in the art of craftiness. “How did ya escape yar chains and the hold?”

“A hair clip.” She quirked a corner of her mouth, enjoying her confession.

“Where do ya plan on goin’ after this? Ya will both be killed the instant ya step on deck.”

“Not if it means
yer
life with ours, Captain,” said MacGregor behind him. “We just want off this ship. We want nothing from ye but a lifeboat.”

Alex laughed. “We’re at sea, pup. Ya’ll last until the first giant swell and then ya’ll both drown.”

“What d’ye suggest then?” Miss Grant asked, her pretty voice trickling over Alex’s spine. “I dinna’ want my kin to have to fight at sea because of me, but I’m afraid if I am not returned, they will come.”

“In truth,” Alex admitted, “I don’t want to fight them either. They were true friends of me father’s. I dispatched one of me smaller boats to set course for shore and arrange to have a message delivered from me to Skye.”

His stowaways looked remarkably relieved for a moment. Then Miss Grant spoke.

“We willna’ be kept in the hold until ye deliver us somewhere safely.”

“I gathered that much,” Alex told her succinctly. “But pointin’ daggers at me is a sure way of endin’ up in one again. Or worse.”

“We don’t want to be yer enemy,” said MacGregor, withdrawing his dagger and clutching his belly.

“Wise.” Alex took a step toward the girl. She stepped back. “What is it ya want, then?”

“Not yer silly map.” The husky thread in her voice mocked him and sent a scintillating fissure down his back. “If we wanted it we could have had it all these years.”

“Oh?” he asked, stepping by her and leading the way out. “Yar uncle would have stolen from me by giving ya me map?” He smiled in front of them. “That’s interestin’ to know.”

“Nae!” she stormed after him. “That is not what I meant! Our chief is not a thief!”

He shrugged and caught Samuel’s eye when he stepped into the light. “Everyone is a thief.”

“In yer world.”

He turned to face her as they reached his men and was caught off guard, which seemed to happen to him every time he set his eyes on the beauty of her round, dimpled face. “Woman, what do ya know of me world?”

“Some of the nastiest, most traitorous men who were ever born live in yer world, Captain Kidd. Even yer own faither said so when he visited my home. Toss treasure into the pot and a few months too long at sea and those men begin to imagine yer demise.”

Aye, she was absolutely correct, pirates cared about their captains and quartermasters as long as they provided booty and muscles. No booty, no crew. But he didn’t want
her to know he agreed with her about his own hands. His men respected him, and they feared him a little too. Anything less would lead to mutiny. They knew he would take their side and fight at their backs. He intended on keeping it that way. He couldn’t let her insult them.

He looked over his shoulder at his mates. “Is this true? Do any of ya plan my demise?” They all answered with a resounding, insulted
nay
!

“Tell me”—he turned away from the sudden panic in her ice blue eyes and looked at her cousin next—“what do
ya
think of me crew?”

The Highlander didn’t so much as flinch, impressing Alex, especially when he glanced longingly at the rail but managed to sound controlled when he spoke. “I dinna’ know yer crew, but I’ll tell ye this, I willna’ let any one of ye bring harm to my cousin. I’ll take the lot of ye down before ye know which way I’m coming.”

Alex cocked his brow at Kyle’s bold declaration. He liked that he saw no fear in the lad.

“We have articles on this ship, MacGregor,” Sam told him. As quartermaster he had say in all decisions aboard ship. There was little Alex could do now. “Article nine decrees that any man threatening the captain or the crew should walk the plank. Kiss yer cousin farewell.”

He drew his cutlass and poked MacGregor with it. Then so did the rest of the crew.

Someone clutched Alex’s arm. He looked down to find her there, terror widening her eyes, shaking her fingers while they clung to him. “Please, Captain, stop this. He didn’t mean—”

Sam poking her cousin along the keel drew her gaze. Her grip tightened. Her eyes came to rest on a length of timber protruding above the water. She released him,
stepped back, and had an arrow nocked in her bow before Alex knew what she was doing. She spread her legs and aimed at Sam. “Let him go.”

Alex watched her, his blood set aflame by her fearless, if not foolish actions. He reached out, quicker than she expected, and snatched the arrow from her hands. He grasped her wrist next and yanked her close. He closed his arms around her and relieved her of her quiver. “Sam,” he called out while he plucked away her bow next, not letting her go or easing his hold on her. “Let him go. Let’s not kill him fer his noble attempt at protectin’ Miss Grant.”

“But Cap’n, the articles.”

“I know, old friend,” Alex told him, hoping to convince him to release her cousin. Why? Why did he risk disagreement with his partner for her? “But we’ve looked away from our laws before. And these are, after all, family of the MacGregor chief.”

Sam stared at him for a minute while the men mumbled their disappointment at not getting to toss someone overboard. “Fine.” Sam sighed and shoved MacGregor away. “But I’ll not let him take a dagger to ya.”

Alex nodded, then turned to his men. “Bring him to the mate’s quarters and remove any weapons he carries.”

“What of her?” Samuel asked upon reaching them.

“She’ll be stayin’ with me.” He turned to one of the sailors to his right. “Have Cooper bring our mornin’ meals to me cabin.”

“Captain,” Kyle warned, despite his brush with death, “if ye put yer hands on her—”

Alex held up his palm to stop Sam from hitting the Highlander. “Ya have me word, MacGregor.”

That seemed to mollify Kyle, at least while he leaned over the side of the boat and dry heaved into the ocean.

“Captain, ye have my thanks fer stopping yer brutes from tossing my cousin overboard, but I will not stay in yer cabin.” Trina tried to pull away from him. He held her securely.

“Ya’ll obey the captain and be safe from the men,” Sam told her. “Yar cousin may believe he can take us all, but he will die if he’s forced to try to protect ya again. Will ya live with his death well?”

She looked over at her sick cousin and shook her head, terrified and defeated.

Alex felt a twinge of pity for her but Sam was correct in warning her of the consequences of her actions.