Chapter Fourteen

James chose to ignore the lie.

He focused instead on the road and the black Lincoln racing up behind them; they must have had the pedal right to the floor to have caught up that quickly.

Maybe they didn’t trust he would keep his word.

Maybe they were worried he’d take their daughter to some hidden part of the world and they would never see her again.

Whatever the reason, he kept his own speed steady. He wasn’t going to risk his life, or Cora’s, trying to prove something.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cora’s interruption of his concentrating silence caused him to blink. His gaze darted off the rearview mirror to her, then back to the road.

“Tell you what?”

“That we were going to meet my parents today.” She shifted in her seat to face him. “Do you know how much drama you could have saved us both? All that stuff this morning, my ass hurting ... avoidable. I mean, even when we were talking about it, you never once said—”

“Because I didn’t need to.” He flicked a glance at the mirror, at how close the Lincoln was getting to his ass. “I don’t need to run my plans by you.”

She was quiet just long enough to make the back of his neck prickle.

“You’ve never been married before, have you?”

The question creased his brows. “What?”

“Unless this is a temporary arrangement, your business is my business. Marriage is a partnership. We talk things out and make plans together.”

“It’s not that kind of marriage.”

She sucked in a breath. “What do you want from me then if not a partner?”

He ignored the plume of hurt that seemed to be coming from the seat next to his. “I want you to be a wife. Loyal, respectful, and dutiful.”

Her eyebrows crinkled. “Dutiful? Like bear your children?”

That hadn’t even crossed his mind, but faced with it now, he had to repress the urge to shudder.

“No children.”

She blinked. “You don’t want children?” A muscle clenched around her jaw. Her eyes hardened. “Or you don’t want children with me?”

It was the latter. As much as he wanted her, and lord help him, he fucking wanted her, her blood was tainted with that of a psychopath’s. How could he have children with the daughter of a man who ruined his sister, destroyed his family, stole his entire life? Fucking her was one thing, but he wouldn’t bring a child into that line.

“No children,” he repeated. “You will be a wife. A crime lord wife. A dutiful wife. I know you know what that means. Your mother is one.”

The term, behind every great man is a greater woman was a solid fact in the crime world.

The women were the glue.

The foundation on which an empire was built.

They were the sweet talkers.

The coordinators.

The brains of the operation.

One seductive whisper and they could send their men to war for them.

They could mend political fences with a single dinner.

A good wife, a perfect crime boss wife held her husband up, protected him, cherished him, obeyed him.

In return, he would shed blood for her, die for her, take over worlds for her. The perfect powerhouse couple was the one who conquered together with a united face.

Elise Harris was famous for that.

She cleaned up Giovanni’s messes.

She kept his secrets.

She worked the strings from behind the curtains.

She was the queen of high society who could bake cookies in the morning and plan a funeral in the evening. Without her, he was nothing more than a ruthless murderer who had no qualm about brutally slaughtering children.

She made him likeable.

She made him memorable.

She masked his transgressions from the public.

She made his shit smell like roses.

That was what a crime boss wife did.

“I don’t know how to be that,” Cora whispered. “I never wanted ... it’s not me.”

“You’re going to have to learn,” he told her flatly.

There wasn’t another word exchanged between them the rest of the way. They pulled out of the wilderness and back into the city just in time to watch it come to life with lights. The evening rush thickened the deeper they merged with the dinner crowd. The restaurant district was choked with people and cars. It was nearly impossible to navigate. But they reached their destination just in time to make their reservation.

James found a parking spot at the back and pulled in.

“Should we wait—”

“No.”

He unfurled from his seat and skirted the back to her side. He opened her door and offered her his hand. She accepted and he tugged her out.

“I’d like to wait for my parents,” she insisted once she stood in the damp parking lot with him. “They’re just behind us.”

“You haven’t had breakfast,” he reminded her. “You haven’t had lunch. It’s now six o’clock and you haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day. We’re not waiting.”

He took her elbow and guided her around the side of the building to the front.

Indian had always had to be carefully approached where James was concerned. The rich textures and spices never failed to keep him locked in the lavatory for days afterwards, but he could eat it in moderations, so long as he stayed away from the really spicy dishes.

He’d never been to Raj. The elaborate replica of an Indian palace had always struck him as too fancy for his taste. Burgers and fries were his main go-tos. But Cora loved the place. He wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered as much as it seemed to, except that he’d wanted her to enjoy her first evening off the ship in a week.

He prayed to God he wasn’t going soft. He couldn’t handle that shit.

Their hostess led them to their table, an out of the way, tucked in the corner booth he’d been very specific about. He wanted absolute privacy, a feat when the place was already packed for the dinner rush.

“We have two more coming,” he told her before she could scurry off. “Just send them over.”

The hostess smiled politely and promised she would. Then she vanished into the crowd and James turned to Cora.

He helped her with her coat, then made sure she took the seat with her back to wall. He draped her coat over the back and took the seat next to her with his coat still on.

“I still think we could have waited,” Cora grumbled. “They were right behind us.”

“They’re not my concern.”

Hazel eyes met his. “But I am? I’m nothing more than a glorified fuck toy with minimal wife options.”

He didn’t know how to explain to her that he didn’t need a cook, or a maid. That he didn’t need someone to care for his house or raise his children. He needed a buffer. He needed a wall between him and Bishop, between him and De Marco. Fucking her was just an added bonus.

Somehow, he doubted she’d take any of that kindly.

“Do you really want children with me?” he asked instead.

Her cheeks went pink and she avoided his eyes, but she shrugged. “I’ve always wanted children. I always thought I’d have a couple with the man I married, which happens to be you. I get that our relationship is severely fucked up, but if I’m in this for the rest of my life ... I can’t be just this. I can’t simply be a pretty face who can throw lavish tea parties and keeps her vagina waxed to please you. I want a family. I want a home. I want babies and a husband I care about. I want ... love.”

She said the latter so quietly he almost didn’t hear it over the clang and clatter of silverware.

“You made a mistake.” Her eyes shone bright in the soft, golden light. “I can’t do this forever. I can’t ... I won’t be your prisoner for the rest of my life.”

“You will be for as long as I say,” James said, never one to be given an ultimatum. “We have an agreement. The moment you break that agreement, all bets are off. I told you, this isn’t a negotiation. You have no rights. It’s what I say, for as long as I say.”

Fire sparked behind her gaze, mirroring the defiant rise of her chin. “I’m not asking for your love, Captain. I’m not asking for you to be a warm, loving husband. I’ve accepted that you’re incapable of such things. But I will not join you in that darkness. One way or another, I will have the life I’ve always dreamed of, with or without you.”

He disliked the implication in her subtle threat. He disliked the hidden meaning woven tastefully into each word. It was enough to make him want to haul her from the restaurant, drive her back to the ship and tie her to the bed for the rest of her life, especially if she had any notion that she would ever have a family with another man.

“What are you implying, Cora?”

He kept his voice calm, quiet, but even he felt the razor sharp drag of frozen fingers skating down his spine as each word crackled into the air between them.

“I’m not implying anything,” she replied with a snide little curve of her lip. “But if I were, it wouldn’t be your business. You’ve already established that we make our own plans, live our own lives.”

He felt his fingers tightening along the edges of the table. “You have no plans. You have no life that I don’t allow you.”

“Of course, because I’m a prisoner.” But it was the way she said it, as if it made no difference one way or another, she would get what she wanted. “They’re here.”

James never looked away from her, from the face she kept deliberately averted from his as though he were no longer of any importance.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear. “I’ve only so far shown you my good side.”

Her face blossomed into a wide smile as her parents joined them, but it was edged with fine blades when her head tipped ever so slightly in his direction.

“So have I ... sweetheart.”

Her parents reached the table and she rose quickly, breaking her battle of wills against his. James watched as she hurried to her mother and embraced the woman again. The two exchanged words he couldn’t hear and laughed as they pulled apart.

De Marco settled a hand on each Cora and Elise’s backs and guided them back to the table. He pulled his wife’s chair out.

James rose and did the same for Cora. But he didn’t regain his seat.

“Why don’t you ladies order while we have a quick drink at the bar.”

It wasn’t placed as a question, nor did he wait for an answer when he rounded to the other man’s side.

De Marco nodded to his wife when she glanced at him questioningly. “Get me my usual.”

James motioned the other man ahead of him, giving himself ample room to reach into his pocket for the ear piece connecting him to the microchip on Cora. He slipped it casually into his ear as he followed De Marco to the bar.

“How are you? Really?” Elise was asking as the men walked away. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m okay. It’s been a very long week.”

Background noise, the clatter of dishes, the hum of chatter, all echoed twice as loud between his end and hers, but he picked up their voices perfectly.

He blocked out the remainder of their chatter, occasionally tuning in to make sure Cora kept her end of the bargain, but kept his focus on his own task.

De Marco claimed a table rather than take a stool at the bar. It was discreetly tucked into the corner of the long, oak counter, nearly concealed in shadows. He removed his coat and draped it over one of the extra seats.

James kept his. He undid the buttons and sat.

“I haven’t yet decided whether you’re incredibly brave, or remarkably stupid, Captain.” De Marco broke the silence. He motioned to the waiter, but kept his eyes on James. “But what I’m really trying to figure out is what the angle here is. What are you hoping to gain by all this?”

“At the moment, a drink.”

He needed one. His conversation with Cora had left his nerves prickling and his temper on edge. He couldn’t fathom what she was getting at, what it was exactly she was trying to tell him. That if he didn’t love her, have babies with her that she’d find someone else? The very thought of her with another man, doing whatever it took to have a baby made his pulse scream. It made him want to kick the table over. What the hell was she thinking?

“You look like you could use six,” De Marco remarked, eyeing him.

The waiter brought over two glasses of whiskey. The amber liquid glinted mockingly in the lights. But James didn’t touch his. Maybe it was paranoia, but he didn’t know the waiter, didn’t know if he was in De Marco’s pocket, didn’t know who could have handled it from the bar to the table.

De Marco snorted as if reading his thoughts. He reached over and downed his, then James’s. Then he motioned for the waiter to bring the entire bottle and leave it at the table.

“I may want to kill you, Captain.” He poured himself a third glass, but sipped this one. “But I have better manners than to do it where my wife and daughter can see.”

James waited for the man to keel over and die. When he didn’t, James poured himself a glass and threw it back. The rich burn of fine whiskey trickled down his esophagus and pooled in his empty stomach.

In his ear, their waitress had arrived at the women’s table. A tiny redhead named Sienna, if James heard correctly. She was rattling off their evening’s special.

The microchip Nicholas had planted in the small, inner pocket of Cora’s jeans broadcasted much better than James had predicted. Every voice, every movement, resonated perfectly in the earbud tucked inside his ear. He hadn’t been sure it would work long distance given that it was so low on Cora’s body. The ones he usually used needed to be higher up towards the mouth area. But the chip was getting everything as if he were at the table with them.

“We’ll have the usual, please,” Elise was saying.

But it was the booming male voice that joined the conversation that had James’s head pivoting around. A burly man with thick black hair and an even thicker, darker mustache ambled up to the table, arms extended as if expecting a hug.

“Elise. Cora.”

“Raj!” Elise rose and pressed air kisses on either side of the man’s round cheeks. “It’s so wonderful to see you again. How’s Dayeah?”

James guessed that this was Raj Singh, the owner.

“Growing.” Raj dug into his pocket and returned with a phone. “She’s almost holding her head up now. Aaminah sends me pictures almost every hour.”

While he showed off his pride and joy, Cora seemed more preoccupied in her water glass. The smile she’d worn while talking to her mother was replaced with a deep look of contemplation. Every so often, she’d cast a glance in the direction of the door, and James wondered if she would actually run. He didn’t think so, but he was curious to see what her plan was exactly.

“If you wanted to keep an eye on my daughter, we probably could have just stayed at the other table,” De Marco cut into James’s woolgathering.

James glanced at the man.

“Am I taking up your time, Mr. De Marco?”

De Marco sipped his drink. “In a manner, yes. You sent directions to a location three hours out of the city, only to bring us back here, and now you’re not saying anything at all.”

James smothered his annoyance with a cool mask of irrelevance. “I would think the prospect of seeing your daughter would trump mild hindrance.”

“Captain, I would bury this city in a crater to keep my daughter safe. That doesn’t mean I appreciate the needless runaround.”

James refilled his glass. “Believe it or not, Mr. De Marco, the runaround wasn’t for your benefit. It was to protect Cora.”

“The only person she seems to need protecting from is you, Captain.”

James didn’t deny it. He took a sip and nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the woman in question.

“You’re not wrong.” James sighed.

De Marco eyed him, his expression wary. “So, what’s stopping me from shooting you and freeing my daughter?”

“You won’t shoot me. You can’t.”

De Marco got to his feet, gun steady. “You’d be wrong.”

“No, because, unfortunately for you, I’m the least of your problems. In fact, I may be your only solution.”

“What are you talking about?”

James finished his drink and struck the table a bit harder than necessary with the empty glass.

“I’m talking about being the one and only person on this planet who’s capable of keeping your daughter from getting taken again, or worse, killed.” He leveled his gaze with the other man’s. “There’s a target on your back, Mr. De Marco, and because of you, there’s one on hers. The people who took her the first time aren’t going to stop. They want you to suffer and they have their eye on Cora.”

De Marco’s mouth was a thin, white line of barely suppressed rage. “Who are they?”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Elise’s voice cut into the conversation.

It pulled James’s attention to the other table where she was rubbing lightly at Cora’s arms and looking anxious.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Cora whispered, but even with nearly fifty feet between them, James could see the lie on her face, see it in the smile she was poorly keeping in place.

“Listen, why don’t we go out tomorrow, hmm? We can go shopping, have some lunch.”

The smile left Cora’s face entirely. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to. James might...” she broke off, but she didn’t need to finish it. He knew exactly how that sentence was supposed to end  — James might not allow it. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Elise insisted. “He seems reasonable.”

Cora burst out laughing, but the sound was all wrong. It was filled with tears and bitter loathing.

“He really isn’t.”

Not reasonable? He’d given her everything she’d asked for. He’d been more patient with her than anyone his entire life. How was he not reasonable?

“Captain!”

“What?”

His snarl snagged between them, a vicious growl that startled several of the people around them. He’d completely forgotten about De Marco and their conversation. He couldn’t even remember what his last words were.

“Who’s after Cora,” De Marco demanded.

James reached for the bottle, half tempted to just drink straight from the neck. But he pulled back at the last second. He’d already had too many glasses. He needed a clear head, not just to deal with De Marco, but to drive home.

He bunched his fingers and pulled them under the table, away from temptation.

“A man I have every intention of putting down the first chance I get.”

De Marco shook his head. “Not good enough. Give me a name.”

“No. All you need to know is that they’re dangerous. The kind even you can’t touch. They’ve been wanting to get to you for years and this was how they were going to do it. They hired me and my crew to grab Cora and take her to them.”

“Why didn’t you?”

James hesitated. The answer should have been simple. He knew what it was, yet it was all tangled up with a million other reasons he couldn’t sort out.

“I miss my apartment,” Cora’s voice intruded into his thoughts. “I miss my things. My bar ...  has anyone...”

“Sal’s been running it for you,” Elise assured her. “He says it’s been going great.”

Cora exhaled. “That’s a relief. Tell him thank you for me when you see him, will you?”

Elise chuckled uncertainly. “You keep talking like this is the last time we’re going to see you.” Some of her smile dimmed. “It’s not, is it?”

Cora’s mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out right away. Finally, she shrugged and shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

James heard the tremor and it was all he could do to keep from ... fuck if even he knew what.

“Are you in love with my daughter, Captain?”

James turned his head slowly and fixed the other man with a look of absolute indignation. “The only reason I never handed her over was to save my crew. Nothing more.”

De Marco hummed quietly.

James chose to ignore that.

“But I will tell you this,” James pushed to his feet. “So long as I’m with her, no one’s going to come near her again. I’ll make sure of it, or die trying.”

He left the man there and made his way back to the women. He pulled the earpiece from his ear and tucked it into his pocket before reaching the table.

Cora spotted him first and quickly wiped her face. But there was no hiding the blotches or the red circles around her eyes.

Christ sakes.

What the fuck was it about her tears that made him want to skin a man?

He took his seat without commenting.

“Mr. Crow ... or do you prefer Captain?” Elise smiled sweetly at him.

“James, please.”

Elise’s smile widened. “I never got the chance to thank you for bringing Cora back. It means the world to me.”

James inclined his head. “I’d say it was nothing, but seeing as how I’m the one who took her in the first place...”

Elise nodded. “I know, but you didn’t hurt her and you brought her back—”

“Temporarily,” James interjected. “We’re only visiting.”

The smile on her face wobbled and didn’t return no matter how hard she struggled with it. “Mr. ... Captain, I’ve been around this block many a times before. Granted, it was never my daughter, but I understand the process. I’ve already asked Cora to stay, that her father and I will do everything in our power to destroy you, and believe me, Captain, when I tell you that I am much worse than my husband. I will burn your entire world to the ground. But Cora has insisted that she wants to stay with you. I personally don’t believe her. I think you’re using something against her. I think it might be us, her father and I. Maybe I’m wrong. But what I do know is that you’re not taking my daughter.”

“Mom—”

Elise set her small hand over Cora’s. She must have squeezed, because Cora flinched. But Elise’s cool, hazel eyes never left James’s.

“I don’t care if you did marry her against her will. I don’t care if you kill me right here at this table. I will find a way to end you if you think for even a moment that I will—”

“Elise.” De Marco appeared at the only vacant seat at the table. His coat was draped over the back. “Easy, love. The Captain and I have already spoken.”

Something in Elise seemed to catch, as she’d been running on pure adrenaline and it was wavering.

De Marco took her small hand, the one not gripping Cora’s, and kissed the knuckles. “We’ve already decided a course of action to this situation.”

James struggled not to narrow his eyes in suspicion. They hadn’t decided anything, because there had been nothing to decide. He’d stated his case. There were no other options.

“You ... you did?” Relief glimmered in the older woman’s eyes. “What is it?”

De Marco set her hand down gently and rounded brown eyes towards James. “He’s been very clear on the matter, he’s not letting Cora go, but,” he stressed, lifting a finger when his wife’s mouth opened in protest, “he’s going to buy the old Carmichael estate.”

James had no idea what that was, or why on earth the man was claiming he’d buy the thing. But De Marco was still talking, slowly, carefully, like he was making sure James missed none of it.

“He’s going to get it fixed up and furnished, and he’s going to move our daughter into it. It’s a nice little house for a couple of newlyweds. A good starter home. And it’s right across the street from ours, which means we can see Cora whenever we want, make sure she’s doing okay, that she’s being cared for properly. That is, unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Cora hesitated. Her wide eyes went from James to her father and back like a rabbit cornered by two wolves. She licked her lips and shook her head.

“Then it’s settled.” De Marco sat back in his chair. “Cora and the Captain will move into the house and everyone gets what they want. In fact,” he fished into the inside pocket of his blazer. “I have Luann’s number on my phone. We can call her up and get that property right now. You can move in tomorrow.”

“But Cora can’t stay married to him, Gio. No offense, Captain.” Elise offered him a polite smile.

De Marco put up his hands. “She’s twenty-five-years-old, Eli. I can’t force her to leave him. But we can make sure he’s taking good care of her, because he knows that anything less than his absolute best could be the last thing he ever does.”

Son.

Of.

A.

Bitch.

“Isn’t that right, Captain?”

It dawned on James that he might have just been played. He would have been furious, except the man had such a way of spinning the story that even James had a hard time not believing it.

The other reason he couldn’t bring himself to say anything was the woman on his right, the one with the big, hopeful eyes and desperate expression. He’d been very careful not to look her way.

“It’s definitely something to look into,” he mused.

De Marco raised an eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with the idea?”

“A few things,” he confessed. “I don’t like buying things I haven’t seen, for one. I’m a sea captain, for another. My home is the ocean.”

“But it’s not Cora’s home,” De Marco pointed out. “The estate would be a nice place for her to stay while you’re ... away. She won’t be alone. She’ll be safe.”

In that regard, the idea was a reasonable one. James hated the idea of dragging Cora along on every voyage, always worrying about her, always locking her up in his room. A house on land would be a tangible solution.

“Cora already has an apartment she can use while I’m away,” James replied. “I don’t see a point in buying a house when I won’t be there.”

“Will you be gone often?” Elise cut in.

“At least nine months out of the year.”

De Marco’s eyes narrowed. “You plan on leaving Cora alone that long?”

James realized what the other man was doing. It finally made sense why he was pushing James to buy a house; James had made a promise to keep his daughter safe. That was the only reason De Marco hadn’t tried to kill him yet. He couldn’t until he was certain someone really was after her. But in the meantime, he wanted to keep James close. Just in case the threat was real.

“A ship isn’t like an airplane,” James said. “It takes longer to cross the ocean.”

“But we discussed the necessities of keeping Cora protected,” De Marco stressed. “Who is going to do that if you’re not here?”

The man had him. He couldn’t claim to be there to keep Cora safe when he had no intentions of staying there.

“I suppose that’s something we’re going to have to talk about,” he said at last. “In the meantime, no house. You’re both welcome to visit Cora on the ship until we launch.”

“Which is when?” Elise blurted.

James paused, his paranoia rearing its head. “That’s still in process.”

Their meal arrived then, interrupting further discussion. Cora and Elise picked up the conversation and kept it going seamlessly for the remainder of the evening. James listened with only half a mind. The other half kept drifting back to the case De Marco had made about Cora’s safety and what James would do with her when he left. He knew he wouldn’t take her with him across the Atlantic again. That had been a journey he couldn’t handle a second time. But he couldn’t leave her behind. Not alone. Not in that apartment of hers where anyone could easily break in. With Bishop on the loose, James couldn’t trust him not to try taking Cora a second time. That only left one other option, an option he didn’t want to think about.

At the end of the night, once the dishes had been cleared, the check paid, and no reason to loiter, they rose from the table and made their way out into the freezing cold. Cora and Elise both looked on the verge of crying, even while they continued to chatter on about some luncheon a group of Elise’s friends were having in a few weeks. Even with the icy winds blowing around them, neither seemed willing to make a move towards the cars.

“Ms. Harris,” James interrupted their babbling, because unlike them, he was freezing his ass off. “Would you happen to be free tomorrow? I have a shipment I need to prepare and the paperwork is an all day affair. Would you mind keeping Cora company?”

Both women blinked at him like he’d inexplicably grown another head.

“Really?” Cora breathed.

“Unless you would prefer to stay and watch me fill out commercial invoices.”

She shook her head quickly.

“Then I’ll have Nicholas take you wherever you want.”

Her smile started out small and bloomed into a brilliant grin that should have torn her face in half. Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the restaurant brightly lit behind him. Her cheeks glowed pink, but he wasn’t sure that wasn’t from the cold.

“Thank you.”

He merely nodded.

“Well, now that we’ve settled that, perhaps we can get somewhere warm,” De Marco muttered.

“Coffee?” Elise piped in. “There’s a tiny bistro down the block from here.”

“Not tonight, love.” Her husband put a hand on the small of her back. “I have work that needs finishing.”

“I was actually hoping to talk James into taking me to the apartment,” Cora added sheepishly. “I want to grab a few things.”

James had wanted to get straight back. He hadn’t left his ship unattended for that long ... ever. The absence of its familiar walls was discomforting.

But there was no point coming back another day when they were already there.

“We can swing by.”

Cora beamed and turned quickly to her mom. Her arm snaked through the other woman’s and together, they started towards the cars.

De Marco remained behind, blocking James’s path until the women were out of ear shot.

“Here’s how this is going to work, you’re going to buy that house for my daughter, Crow. You’re going to make her and my wife happy. Then, in a few weeks, you’re going to decide to give my little girl the wedding she deserves.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you seem to think I’m an idiot. I know exactly what you’re doing. You took my daughter, and as a last-ditch effort to save your own ass, you thought hitching your wagon to hers would save you. Well, it won’t. You’re standing before me by the sheer grace of my daughter’s request. One word from her, one hint and you would be on the ground with a bullet in your head. But she’s asked me to spare you, to offer you a semblance of a chance. I don’t know why. I don’t honestly care. But until I can verify this mysterious third party after Cora, I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on you. In that time, you are going to take care of her like a husband is supposed to. Otherwise, you have outlived your usefulness. Do I make myself clear?”

James bunched his fists in his pockets, the only outward show of his rising temper. His façade remained cool, mildly impassive, but attentive.

“I don’t answer to coercion, Mr. De Marco,” James said once he was sure the other man had finished. “Your daughter could have been taken by someone far worse and we would not be standing here having this conversation. I’m not buying a house, not to appease you. I will not do anything, because you think you can intimidate me into it. Your beliefs in what I’m telling you has very little impact in the scheme of things. I only told you out of courtesy. Otherwise, I could have sailed to any part of the world I wanted and you would never have seen Cora again. So, it was by the sheer grace of Cora’s wishes that you got this moment with her at all.” James took a step around him, but stopped and lowered his voice. “And to answer your doubts, Bishop is very real. He’s very dangerous and he’s very hellbent on destroying you. You can believe it or not, but I’m not letting Cora go down with you. So, you can either help me protect her, or get the fuck out of my way.”

Leaving De Marco to follow, James stalked in the direction of the two figures in the distance. The trail of laughter drifted into the night, a symphony of sweet bells masking the sounds of late traffic.

She really was so beautiful. Possibly too beautiful. He wasn’t sure if there was a threshold for how stunning a single woman could be, but he was positive no one could match her; having sailed the seven seas and visited nearly every major city in the world, he could say that with a bit more than simple confidence.

But it wasn’t only her face. While her elegant bone structure, her breathtaking eyes, and full, generous mouth were eye catching, it was her radiance that drew him. She didn’t glow like other women. It was an odd analogy, one no one would ever understand, but he didn’t know how else to explain it.

Her light was different.

Her presence.

There was a shimmer to her, a magnetism he couldn’t wrap his head around.

God, he was beginning to sound like raving nutcase, like one of those men who tripped on their own tongues over a beautiful woman. Maybe De Marco should have just shot him and put him out of his misery.

Cora spotted him coming first. Her smile remained enormous. He could have counted every single tooth in her mouth.

She met his gaze, her hazel eyes a soft green embedded with shards of gold in the dull spotlight pinning down the parking lot. They were hooded beneath the thick wings of her lashes, but he couldn’t miss the shine in them if he tried.

Her hair glistened in dark, shimmery waves around her shoulders. Strands drifted over and along the pink of her wind kissed cheek, catching the light and glittering. She didn’t seem to notice, but it was all James could focus on.

It was all he saw beckoning him the rest of the way with wide, purposeful strides.

It was the first thing he did when he reached the pair; he hooked the satin threads and swept them back, grazing the coolness of her skin with his fingertip.

Cora’s lips parted. Her lashes lifted and he was momentarily caught in that swirl of emeralds and gold.

“Button your coat.” He told her quietly. Then he faced her mother as Cora did as he’d asked. “It was a pleasure, Ms. Harris.”

She inclined her head. “Likewise, Captain.”

“What time?” Cora blurted before James could take her elbow. “Tomorrow.”

James paused with his fingertips resting lightly on her arm. The anxiousness in her eyes confused him. Did she really think he would change his mind? Or did she think he was lying about letting her see her mom again? It was unclear, but he liked neither option.

“Whenever you like,” he told her evenly.

“Seven!” Elise jumped in. “We can have breakfast.”

Cora looked to him as if waiting for him to argue, and he realized this would become an annoyance eventually. While control was a thing he had a hard time relinquishing, requesting his every assurance on every matter at every turn would most likely drive him to drink.

“I’ll let you ladies work it out,” he decided. “The day is yours to do with it what you wish.”

Cora bit her lip, her grin blinding. She faced her mother with delight dancing in her eyes.

“Seven.”

He stepped back as the two embraced. He could have sworn someone’s ribs cracked. Then more hugs between her and De Marco. It was a tedious process, but he waited her out.

Cora practically vibrated the rest of the way to the car. Her body seemed to hum with the smile she couldn’t get off her face.

She slipped into the car without a word.

James paused during his walk around the trunk to his side and squinted into the glittery darkness, and the pair still standing where they’d left them. He wondered how long they’d stand there for, but decided he didn’t really care. Sharing drinks and a meal with the two hadn’t softened his resolve, or his mission. De Marco would still see the end of James’s Glock sooner or later.

But he did like Elise.

The woman came off so prim and sweet, but there was a fire in her, a fight he admired. Even when threatening to kill him, she’d been so ... lovely about it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met anyone like that. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Cora, all soft and adorable on the outside, a spiting, raging she-demon on the inside. Only Elise was more refined about it.

“Thank you,” Cora murmured several minutes later as they drove in the direction of her apartment. “For today and for tomorrow. I honestly can’t tell you—”

“You don’t need to check with me to see your mother,” he interrupted, turning down a side street. “As long as Nicholas, or I can go with you, you can make plans whenever you want.”

He heard her sharp intake, but didn’t glance over.

“Do you mean it?”

There it was again, that annoying doubt of hers.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

She hesitated, which only served to annoy him further. “I don’t know.”

“I haven’t!” he snapped. “If I tell you something, then that’s what it is, understand?”

She nodded mutely.

The rest of the drive was done in silence. Every so often, he would catch her glancing over at him from the corner of his eye, but it was never accompanied by words.

They arrived at her apartment a little after nine. He climbed out first and opened the door for her. She slid out and joined him on the sidewalk, beneath the warm glow of the lamplight.

“Can I visit my bar before we go up?” she asked, gesturing over her shoulder.

James followed her thumb to the window looking in on roughly five people and way too many empty tables. A woman stood on the other side of the counter idly scrubbing glasses and furtively stealing peeks at her watch.

“Not tonight,” he told her. “I’ll have Nicholas bring you tomorrow, if you still want.”

She looked on the verge of arguing, but she must have realized it was either argue and have him change his mind about them being there at all, or go up and see her apartment.

She started to the door leading upstairs and knelt until she was eyelevel with her mail slot. James watched, bemused as she lifted the lid and dug two slender fingers inside. A moment later, she withdrew, gripping a single, bronze key. She tore off a bit of tape still stuck to it and flicked it aside.

“Spare,” she murmured, turning to face the man behind her. “I don’t like those secret rock things.”

“They don’t work anyway,” he said.

Cora snorted. “Right?” Dusky lashes lifted and gems beneath met his. “Can we stay the night?”

His immediate answer was no. He hadn’t spent a night off a boat since his eighteenth birthday. Strange beds made him uneasy. The absence of sea and wind, and the groan of metal made him restless.

“Please?” She peered at him imploringly. “I was thinking about have a nightcap before climbing into bed. You could join me.”

His groin was rock hard even before she finished speaking.

“In a nightcap, or in bed?”

Her answer was a teasing little shrug as she unlocked the door.

Never trust a gorgeous woman who can make your cock hard with only a smirk. It was a rule he lived by, one that had served him well in the last thirty-five years. Had even saved his life once.

Yet, the moment Cora pushed open the door to her apartment and offered him a smirk dripping with the promise of incredible sex, all that common sense vanished.

All those years of listening to that inner voice failed him and he found himself following her like a dutiful lamb to slaughter.

Maybe he really was crazy. He couldn’t decide as he followed the woman with the sexiest backside he’d ever had the pleasure of following up a steep set of stairs. Like the rest of her, the firm globes were addictive to stare at, to smack, to watch jiggle as he pounded into her from behind, a position he hadn’t yet tried with her.

He would need to rectify that.

But the seductive witch who had lured him up vanished the moment they reached the top and she smacked on the lights.

“Oh!” she moaned. “My things. My beautiful things.”

James arched an eyebrow that she didn’t notice while rubbing her hands along the row of coats and scarves hanging off pegs surrounding a large, round mirror in the cramped opening. Her boots were kicked under the bench, her coat tossed over top. Then she was darting further into the place, leaving him to follow after her.

The short foyer opened into a wide sitting area lavished in the oddest furniture he’d ever seen someone in her position possess.

Nothing matched. Everything was faded and old, and there was a ton of it. Of everything. It all seemed to cram into the place in a mismatch heap of things. And the place smelled like a gypsy tavern, like musk and night flowers. The floor was littered with worn afghans and straw mats and the windows were draped in tie-died strips of cloth.

He hadn’t noticed all that the first time he’d been there. He’d been more focused on finding the bedroom and getting the girl. But taking a good look now, he was fairly certain he couldn’t stay there the night; the clutter was starting to give him a panic attack.

“James?”

He pulled out of his thoughts and focused on her and the sight she made standing in the threshold between the sitting area and kitchen bare foot with her wild mane twisted in a messy knot at the back of her head. He wasn’t sure when she scooped it all back, but tendrils framed the soft, heart shaped contours of her face, emphasizing the elegant column of her throat.

“What’s your poison?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

She disappeared into the kitchen. He heard the clink of glasses. A moment later, she returned with two beers. Real beers. None of that lite crap.

He accepted his.

Cora sighed as she flopped down on one of the sofas, a velvet, blue monstrosity with patches of faded velvet.

“You have no idea how good this feels. Sit.”

She patted the cushion next to her.

James sat with a reluctance he hadn’t experienced in his life.

By no stretch of the imagination was he a snob. His parents had spent every dollar they owned on Annie’s treatments for sixteen years so whatever they had left usually went to bills and nothing else. His mom hadn’t been above picking up toss-aways off street corners or garage sales. It wasn’t even the state of the Cora’s furniture that had his muscles coiled.

It was the sheer, mindboggling amount of it.

Aside from two sofas, there were four armchairs, three wooden chairs, six end tables, one coffee table, a million bookcases, lamps, knickknacks, and potted plants. Not to mention the bean bags, hammock, and egg-shaped swing thing in the corner. It was a thrift store on crack.

“What’s wrong?”

James hesitated. “How many people live here?”

She followed his gaze over the room, possibly searching for signs of other inhibitors.

“Just me. Why?”

“Why do you have so many chairs?”

She glanced at the objects in question thoughtfully. “Well, it started off as a joke. See, when I first moved in, I only had the one sofa. This one.” She gave a little bounce that rippled over to his side. “My mom decided to throw me a house warming party, but there was like fifty people and nowhere to sit. So, that entire year, every time someone came over, they brought some kind of chair with them. There used to be a ton more, but I ran out of room.”

James shook his head, his mouth working into a grin he was having a hard time containing. “That is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. This place is a disaster.”

“Hey!” She twisted the cap off her drink. “That’s uncalled for. I didn’t once mention the bare bones of your room.”

“My room is efficient. I know where everything is.”

“Because you don’t have anything,” she argued, laughing.

He followed her example and opened his drink. He took a swig.

“I have what I need.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “A bed and a chest of clothes?”

“I have a desk,” he reminded her.

Cora laughed, the deep, open laugh she’d been sharing with her mother the entire night, the one he’d never once heard because of him. It rolled through the room, an avalanche of amusement.

James watched her, fascinated. His beer hung inches from his mouth, forgotten.

“I’ve never met anyone who could live off so little,” she breathed, calming down a fraction.

“I’ve lived off less,” he murmured.

Her gaze locked with his over the spare cushion between them. “Tell me,” she said, wiggling into the fat pillow squished between the back and the armrest. “Were you always a pirate? How did you decide to become one?” she went on, shimmering eyes narrowed teasingly. “Is there a school for pirating? A Masters in Plundering?”

James shook his head, no longer even bothering to conceal his grin. “It sort of fell into my lap. One of the foster homes I was in, the guy’s brother worked at the docks. He took me under his wing, showed me the ropes. Even after I was moved to a different place, he still drove out and got me. I met Marcus Lozano, who offered me a spot on his ship. Didn’t realize it was smuggling packets of heroin disguised as sugar until after we landed in Halifax, but I stayed on. Learned the business. A few years later, I ran into Nicholas. The three of us had been best friends our whole lives growing up. After Annie died ... and everything fell apart, I was sent to different cities, sometimes different provinces and we lost touch. He was between jobs and needed some fast cash. I brought him in. Five years later, I got my own ship, my own crew, started up my own client list, and here I am.”

“How old were you?” Her voice was quiet.

“I was in the system for eight months, until I turned eighteen.”

It had been the longest eight months of his life. Between the beatings and being starved, it was sleeping in closets and always keeping one eye open. But it had trained him for what came next. It had made him strong, agile, shrewd. He never would have made it on Marcus’s crew otherwise.

“Where are your parents?”

A bead of condensation trickled down the side of his bottle. He watched as it tore a path through all the other droplets to the bottom where it sprung off and plummeted to the carpet between his feet.

He set the bottle down on the coffee table, on a coaster.

“My dad went after the men who hurt Annie and never came back.”

“Your mom?”

He scrubbed a hand damp from the drink over his face and back into his hair. “She hung herself in our basement two weeks later.”

“Oh my God.”

“The sight of Annie...”

He hadn’t realized he’d stopped talking until the cushion next to him dipped. His head came up just as Cora crawled into his lap. The unexpected intrusion into his personal hell momentarily paralyzed him from stopping her. Then it was too late.

She was straddling his hips, her knees bent under her, her arms hooked tightly around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the side of his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

James couldn’t move. He sat in his numbness, staring at an ugly painting of a cactus with the daughter of the man who destroyed his life cradled in his arms. There was some kind of sick irony in that.

But he couldn’t push her off. He couldn’t bring himself to even hate her. She’d been a baby when it happened. She hadn’t known he existed. But how could he forgive her for what her father did to his family? He didn’t think he ever could.

She raised her head and he found himself lost in the tears clinging to her lashes. The sight of them horrified him. Was she crying for him?

He never found out. He never got the chance to after she kissed him.

Her mouth and tongue invaded his senses, temporarily numbing the lingering memories of all his pain with her addictive taste. Somehow, those tender sips of her lips ended with him sheathed inside her, her hips rising and falling in slow gallops as the night hung with their deep sighs and murmured gasps.

The feel of her enthralled him.

It stirred awake everything he’d thought dead inside him until there was nothing but her radiating in the place of the darkness. It shouldn’t have been possible, but when she whimpered his name and her body shuddered around him, he knew he was so fucked.