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“You saidwho the hell do you think you are,not that,” Isaiah corrected. “You are either deaf or ignorant if you didn’t hear my name earlier. It was shouted pretty loud. And what I’m doing here is sitting down…you know, since it’s an empty chair.”
The man made a strangled sound, his hand flying to his sword.
“Isaiah the Great.”
The captain’s voice was the same, a gentle croon. Isaiah’s hand fisted under the table, then spread it on his thigh. He smirked.
“You know.”
“I heard it,” Ven mused. “Earlier. Since I’m not deaf or ignorant. Pan, go away.”
The defensive man backed off instantly. Isaiah ignored him and beamed.
“Good for you, mate. I knew you would be impressive. Captain Ven, is that right? The pirate lord? Or king? I heard the tune hummed for you when I arrived and naturally, I couldn’t wait to meet you. I hope you don’t mind that I came in here without warning.”
“I was plenty warned with that parade.”
“Oh, just my admirers.” He chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the norm for the likes of us.”
“There are no parades for me.”
“I’m sure you inspire people.”
“It depends on what kind of inspiration you are talking about.”
“Oh, you know what kind. There are talks, even in the seas, between us pirates. You are elusive, though, and must be a busy man.”
“And you are…”
“Busy, too. This is a stop.” He chuckled again. “Truth be told, it’s also one of the few places I’m welcome in.”
“Should I be welcoming you, then?”
There was sarcasm in Ven’s tone, but there was also interest—either because Isaiah was the first one to approach him willingly, or because Ven was thinking about how to get rid of his overtly boisterous presence.
“There’s already plenty to welcome me, including the honor of meeting you.” He paused, willing himself not to say it. But his mind and heart weren’t in the same spot. “But perhaps a woman on my lap would be a nice welcome, too. You know how it is.”
“I do. How about this one?”
Silence. Isaiah forced himself to look, pretending to assess the goods offered. Up close, she was a blow with her beauty, so damn ethereal even when she tried to hide it. But the fierce warrior in her vampire or pirate boy form was gone, replaced by a sweet, soft-looking barmaid who leaned flirtatiously against Ven. It rendered something violent in him, battled and banked down.
“If she’s available,” he managed to say casually. “She’s lovely. A sweet companion.”
A smile bloomed from the man. “Madam, why don’t you give him a lap ride and show him how sweet you can be?”
There was nothing to say to that, considering he couldn’t protest when he had been the one to ask. Heknewshe would have a lot to say to that if she could, but the way Nicola promptly transferred from Ven’s lap to his showed that she was here to act for the long haul. He spread his legs, accommodating her weight, and felt her sink into it. He gripped her waist, but she playfully slapped it away.
“Careful, Captain,” she teased. “Not yet.”
“Have you heard of him?” Ven asked.
“Isaiah the Great?” She considered it. At the same time, she started rotating her hips, a movement that brushed against his trousers. But it was so light, her body mostly raised via core strength without anyone noticing. “I can’t say I have. You must not be as special as the pirate lord. I have heard of him.”
“Ouch. But that’s all right. I can make you remember me, my love.”
Some grumbles rose from the bar, with a man saying how corny he was. He gave that direction a middle finger. Ven looked amused, gaze roaming appreciatively over them…her. For a moment, Isaiah wondered if she had gyrated against Ven, too, or any other pirate to get to Ven. Just like that, he wanted everyone in this room dead just for touching her.
“Stop thinking. Enjoy me.”
