Emerald [Pyrate's Treasure 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

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“Sir? You need to wake up. We’ve arrived.”

Nick started awake. Opening his eyes, he looked around, momentarily disoriented. He was sitting on a bench in the corner of a room though he could not remember where the room was.

“Sir? Are you all right?” the old man standing front of him asked. Nick looked at the man and spotted the name Tesla embroidered on his shirt.

Nick arched his back to stretch then stood. The old man stepped back, giving him room. “I’m fine, thanks. Didn’t realize how tired I was,” he said. Lifting his arms over his head, he stretched fully then turned his upper body left and right, wincing as several vertebrae loudly popped and adjusted themselves. “Where are we?”

“Pyrate Island, sir.”

As soon as the man announced the destination, Nick’s memory kicked in. Pyrate Island, North Carolina. Emerald Pyrate. The best children’s adventure stories he’d come across ever.

It had taken much longer than expected to clear his desk and calendar so he could travel to the obscure North Carolina island for a week. He now had five days to convince the eccentric writer that he was the best man to represent her incredibly vivid and well-written stories to the publishing world. He had ended up spending all night driving down from Manhattan. He had gotten lost twice along the way but had arrived at the eastern coast marina just in time to board the ferry. He barely remembered the ferry leaving the dock before he collapsed in the corner, and then nothing.

“Everyone else has departed the ferry,” Tesla said as Nick picked up his briefcase. The old man then led the way out of the lounge and toward the front of the boat. “Your luggage will be on the dock. If you go just up the road to that first building on the left, they’ll get you checked in.”

“Thank you. Can you tell me where I can find a Miss Emerald Pyrate?”

“Emerald? Why would you want to see Emerald?” The old man’s friendly demeanor chilled, suspicion entering his voice.

“I have business to discuss with her.”

All of the sudden, Nick wondered if this trip had been such a good idea. After all, it was not imperative that he meet the woman. Meeting authors before he signed them was just one of the quirks that set him apart from other agents. It helped him decide whether he wanted to add them to his client list or not. He preferred working with writers he liked personally as well as professionally. It also made it easier for him to tout them to publishing companies when they were a face in his memory and not just a name on a page.

“Uh-huh,” the old man replied coolly, not looking happy. Instead of answering Nick’s question, he guided Nick off the boat. “Enjoy your stay on Pyrate Island, sir.”

As he headed to his lone carry-on suitcase sitting on the dock, he wondered if everyone on this island was as odd as Tesla and this Emerald woman. Picking up his suitcase, he followed Tesla’s directions to the small building with the large “Check-In Here” sign posted on the roof.

He climbed the handful of steps to the building’s covered front porch with a sigh. A black-haired man rose from a rocking chair near the front door as he reached the top step. Nick vaguely remembered seeing him on the ferry, but had not met him before he’d fallen asleep.

“Mr. Christopher?”

“Yes, I’m Nick Christopher.”

The man stepped forward with a smile as he offered his hand. “Silver Pyrate. I’m Emerald’s cousin. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you the way to the house.”

Putting down his suitcase, Nick shook the man’s hand. “When can I meet Emerald?”

Silver looked uncomfortable for a second before bending to pick up his suitcase. “Oh, you’ll meet her soon enough. In the meantime, let’s get you settled.”

“Ooookay,” Nick said.

He frowned as he compared Tesla’s reaction to his asking about seeing Emerald Pyrate to Silver’s. Something was going on, though he could not be sure what. He decided to bide his time. He would not push tonight since he was still a little brain-fuzzed from his two-hour nap, but if he had not met the woman by tomorrow at noon, he would demand someone give him a ride back to the mainland and his car.

“So tell me about this place. I’ve never heard of it before,” Nick said as he followed the other man around the porch to the side of the building to a two-seater golf cart.

Silver put the suitcase in the back and then slid into the driver’s seat. Nick settled next to him. He held his briefcase to his chest with one arm and grabbed the side rail of the cart with the other. As Silver drove sedately through town, he gave what sounded like a well-rehearsed speech about the history of the island.

Nick looked around, amazed at the colorfully painted buildings that made up what appeared to be the commercial district of the island. He made note of the various places to eat and have a beer. If he was going to take full advantage of this forced stay, he would be out and about as much as possible when he wasn’t working with Emerald.

Watching a group of tight, toned laughing women wearing less than he’d seen on a woman in a long time crossed the road in front of the cart, his cock twitched with interest. Yep, he would have to take advantage of all the island had to offer while he was here.

The shops gave way to a series of small cottages. His hold tightened on the cart when Silver suddenly turned and headed up a wide path toward a ginormous, almost Gothic-looking stone mansion that seemed completely out of place on the island. This place belonged on a cliff overlooking the ocean in a 1950s British vampire movie.

“Oh, wow,” he said as Silver stopped the golf cart near the front steps.

“Yeah, we never did figure out how the stones came to be on the island, but this house was built in the mid-nineteenth century,” Silver said, turning off the cart and climbing out. “This is the family home, so we don’t have room or maid service. Feel free to help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen.”

Nick followed Silver across the patio to the front door. Once inside, he found the interior of the house was not decorated in the same Gothic décor as the exterior. Instead, the entryway was as bright and colorful as the buildings on the island.

Silver led him up the wide stone staircase that divided the wide entryway. At the top of the stairs, he turned down the hallway leading to the right. Nick counted three doors before Silver stopped and opened one on the right side of the hall.

Stepping inside, Nick found himself in what could have been a room in a midrange New York hotel with a Caribbean island twist. The bed to the left side of the room was queen-size and covered in with a tropical print bedspread. In the far right corner looking out the bank of windows was a desk and executive chair. In the left was a sitting area with a tan wicker loveseat and two chairs. The material covering the cushions matched the bed’s blanket. The vivid green carpet underfoot was thick and cushiony while the soft yellow paint on the walls had him smiling before he realized it.

“Oh, there is one other thing,” Silver said as he headed back to the door. “I’m afraid you’ll have to share the bathroom with your neighbor.”

Nick looked around, and for a second his gut clenched as he wondered if these people were moving him in and not just giving him shelter for a few days. Instead of demanding accommodations with a private bath, he took a deep breath. He knew he was staying in a private house and not a hotel. At least he only had to share with one other person and not the whole family.

“Thanks for the warning.”

“I’ll let you get settled in. If you’d like, I’ll come back and get you in an hour or so. We can get dinner and check out the ladies that arrived today.” Silver grinned and winked.

Nick nodded but did not answer one way or the other. Instead, he turned to the desk and began to unpack his briefcase. The door opened then closed behind him. When he looked up, he found himself alone. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for as long as he could, before releasing it on a long sigh. He was not sure making friends with Emerald Pyrate’s cousin was a good idea, but found he liked the man’s friendly, laid-back attitude.

It just made him more curious about what he would find when he finally met Emerald.

Emerald shut down her computer before pushing from her chair. She spent a few minutes stretching as her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had not eaten since breakfast. With new guests coming in, she knew her cousins would all be busy working at the pub and restaurant so she would have to scrounge for something to eat.

Walking into the bathroom, she glanced at the long counter with double sinks. The only difference was on her last trip in there she found a men’s toiletry bag beside the sink closest to Goldie’s room. Silver’s guest had arrived and apparently settled in.

She growled low in her throat as the faint scent of fresh cut grass and spring rain wrapped around her. Her body responded immediately to the delicious aroma. Her nipples beaded, her clit jumped to attention, and her pussy gushed, dampening her panties. This was something that had never happened to her before. But then again, she had never come across her mate before.

“Mine,” she murmured softly to the empty room.

Though she wanted nothing more than to track her mate down and claim him, her body demanded she deal with it first.

After doing what she had come in there to do, she headed downstairs, hoping to find some leftovers she could heat and eat quickly. She was not surprised to find the house was empty and silent as she wound her way to the kitchen. After all, it was the first night for new guests on the island. Everyone would be at the Treasure, either working or checking out the latest crop of guests for possible mates or short-term hookups.

Opening the refrigerator, she sighed with disappointment. Ruby and Diamond must have gotten domestic and cleaned out the refrigerator. Turning to the freezer, she found it just as empty of anything that might make a quick meal for a starving writer who hated to cook.

“Guess you’re just going to have to suck it up and go down to the Treasure,” she said to herself as she closed the freezer door and walked out of the kitchen.

Her stomach rumbled long and loud in agreement.

Looking at her clothes, she sighed again. She had to go back up to her room to change into something more public worthy. Torn, faded panties under a three-sizes-too-big T-shirt she wore without a bra was great for a day of writing, but not for walking through a crowd of humans in search of food.

“Changing into something more appropriate will also keep you out of Grandfather’s doghouse,” she said to herself, “especially if you cross paths with your mate.”

Walking back upstairs, she exchanged her comfy writer’s clothes for a bra, white tank top, and a red and white ankle-length broomstick skirt that was years out of style. It was comfortable and almost dressy considering what some people wore while on the island. She took off her damp panties and on a whim decided not to replace them with dry ones. Slipping her bare feet into a pair of well-worn red Crocks, she left her room and reluctantly headed into the village.

On the front steps, she sniffed and picked up the faint residue of her mate’s scent. As if in a trance, she followed it into the village. She walked faster the closer she got to the business district as the scent grew stronger. Its trail led her to Pyrate’s Treasure. The closer she got to the pub, the tenser she grew.

Ever since her return to the island after graduation, she had avoided the village at night, during the season, and especially the first night for guests. Too much alcohol and giddy happiness at being on an adult-only island lowered the guests’ inhibitions and sometimes led them to do foolish things.

Stopping on the pub’s front porch, she hesitated then stepped out of the flow of traffic in and out of the door. A group of giggling women and several couples passed in and out while she took a few deep breaths and tried to talk herself into entering the building. Music, laughter, and voices spilled out of the open doorway as another couple pushed through the doorway and left. They were arm in arm and unaware that they were not alone in the universe.

“Your mate is in there. Food is in there. You can do this,” she murmured to herself.

Her comments drew the attention of a pair of good-looking men who apparently had already consumed a couple of drinks before leaving their cottage. They stopped and looked her up and down, then moved in on either side of her. Her skin crawled at the alcohol on their breath and the intentions in their eyes.

“Come on, honey. We’ll keep you company,” one of them slurred as the other wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her along with them through the front door.

Though she felt strangely thankful for their assistance getting into the building, once they were inside she slipped from the stranger’s hold and walked away without a word. She dodged several dancing couples, more flirting couples, and several small groups of men and women who seemed to be daring one another to go and talk to members of the opposite sex in the room. She worked her way across the room to the far end of the bar that sat on the right side of the room.

Though a dozen different colognes and perfumes in the air made her sensitive nose twitch, she could still make out the faint but particular scent that belonged to her mate. Her exceptional hearing picked up shocked whispers of the pack members who saw her.