Page 85 of Captive of the Pirate King
“Fair point. I’ll leave you, then. This isn’t my scene.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m off to the Slippery Frog tonight.”
“The Slippery Frog?”
“My favorite tavern. Loud women, louder music, and mugs so deep you’re drunk before you hit the bottom.” He gives me a brief salute and saunters out.
That was much easier than I thought. Now all I have to do is lie in wait until Locke comes to the stables.
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The groom arrives a short while later. He’s a stout boy with a pleasant face and a shock of spiky pale hair. He nods curiously to me, and I tell him I’m a guest of the Pirate King. The boy doesn’t question me any further, but prepares the horse as Locke requested. Caliper protests the saddle and bridle with loud chuffs and restless shakes of his head, but eventually the job is done. When the groom leaves, I resume my place at the stall door, and Caliper nudges my arm until I stroke his nose again.
A few moments later, Locke himself arrives.
Or at least, I’m guessing it’s Locke. The man is swathed in a cloak of heavy dark material, and he wears a hood and a silver mask etched with black markings. His boots are plain, serviceable leather. Across his chest is a leather strap, attached to a large flat satchel at his hip. I’m guessing it contains his tattooing supplies.
When the masked man enters the barn, his steps falter for a second. Locke’s baritone issues from the mouth-slit of the mask. “Nick? What are you doing here?”
I continue stroking Caliper’s nose. “Making friends with your horse.”
Locke advances until he’s a step away from me. His mask’s eye sockets are so deep and shadowed that I can’t discern his eye color, even when I’m standing this close.
“I want you to take me along,” I tell him. “I want to see Ravensbeck at night.”
“You can’t handle Ravensbeck at night, love.” He reaches for Caliper, and the horse moves to him immediately, eagerly. Locke smooths the stallion’s broad, blue-gray cheek.
“You like speckled things,” I say, nodding at the roan’s coat.
Locke’s mask tilts. “I suppose I do.”
Closer I sway, brushing my body lightly against his. “Take me with you.”
“It’s dangerous at night,” he warns. “Wild, noisy, messy. You’ll have to leave your judgment behind—or at least put it away for a while.”
“I can do that.”
“It’ll be a quick outing. I’ve been away too long, and I’ll have to sail again soon to deal with this mage and his storms. I have piles of work to get done before then.”
“I understand. I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”
He chuckles, a low, delicious ripple of male merriment. “Oh, Nick. I doubt that very much.”
Opening the stall door, he leads Caliper out and gestures to the saddle. “Up you get, love.”
“Don’t I get my own horse?”
“Gods no. You’d be lost in the crowds, or someone would pull you off the horse and whirl you into some mad debauchery. I can’t be turning back to yell directions at you, either. You’ll ride with me, or not at all.”
Pinching my lips together, I set my foot in the stirrup and pull. I’m stronger than I used to be, so mounting a horse of Caliper’s size isn’t the strain as it once might have been. I settle astride and take my foot out of the stirrup, holding myself as far toward the front of the saddle as I can.
Locke swings up behind me, his thighs pressing mine. He’s a solid wall at my back, draped in that thick cloak.
“What did you say before?” Locke murmurs. “I believe it was something like, ‘You won’t even know I’m here,’ wasn’t it? What do you think now, Veronica? Do you think I can forget your presence?” His thighs squeeze inward slightly. I shift my rear against his crotch, relishing the decadent tingle that races along my nerves. I can already feel him growing hard through the front of his pants.
“I can see how it might behard,” I murmur, “to forget I’m here.”
He hums low in his throat and slides one hand across my belly while the other gathers the reins. “Stay quiet, if you can. I need to go mostly unnoticed.”
“Your guards aren’t coming with us?”
