Lock (10 page)

“Starting to get to you, aren’t I, Princess? Just think, I’m yours forever, unless you set me free.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh, yes. You not only paid for me but took my punishment as well. I’m not sure I believe you about that part of the trade.”

“Why would I lie?”

“Thought you’d play on my sympathy, but surprise, girl. SothSea pirates don’t have sympathy.”

Sparrow stared at him, but in spite of her anger, she remembered his hesitation the night before when she’d told him why she wouldn’t free him. For the briefest moment, she’d seen confusion in his demonic eyes. Maybe he didn’t even realize it, but he
did
feel something for her.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Sparrow told him.

“To me, mercy is a waste of time. If I felt, Princess, I’d have been dead by now.”

“And if I didn’t feel, you’d be dead!”

“What do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss that tight little ass of yours because you made me a slave? Come here and pull down those trousers. I’ll do it.” He flung her a hateful look. “Give you some excitement.”

“Why do you always have to be so vicious? Is that the only way you can stomach your own lousy life? What made you more angry, Lock, that I outsmarted you last night or that you’re starting to feel something for me?”

“Feel for you?” He laughed. “Look at you! Muscle-bound little runt.”

Sparrow pointed a finger at him and roared, “
You’re
ridiculing
my
looks? That’s rich. You’re an oversized, ignorant, arrogant, ugly, murdering thief!”

“What do you mean ugly?”

Sparrow stopped suddenly and drew a calming breath. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to force me into giving you the key. I’m sorry, but I don’t relish the thought of being tortured until I faint.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and he sat, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not keen on that part of it, either.”

She smiled softly. “I knew you had some decency in there somewhere.”

“What is wrong with you?” He glared at her, pointing to one of his branded arms, then the other. “It’s spelled out for you. Murderer. Thief. You know it. Everyone knows it. Stop trying to make me into something I’m not, and both of us will be a lot happier!”

“Why are you so afraid of being something other than a pirate?”

“You mean like a slave? I don’t think so, Princess. Not everyone can come down in the world as easy as you.”

“Come down?” She laughed humorlessly. “I think a slave would be a step up from a pirate.”

He snarled. “I’m not surprised.”

Sparrow took several steps closer so that she stood just out of his reach yet could see the fine lines in the corners of his eyes and the thickness of his lashes. “When you were a boy, didn’t you ever dream of being anything but a pirate?”

“There you go with dreams again. They mean nothing. I could dream every night of ramming your fresh young body until we both pass out, but it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

Sparrow stared into his eyes for a long moment. In spite of his vulgarity, his words aroused her more than she wanted to admit.

“Like that idea, do you, girl?” His smile was more sensual than leering.

Sparrow walked across the room to prepare the morning meal. She could take him when he was taunting her, but the idea of actually making love with him was more than she could handle. If she hadn’t been so terrified of his strength and his temper, she might have freed him just long enough to bed him.

She slid his bowl of food toward him with the broom handle, fearful of getting too close lest he try assaulting her again.

“I won’t be back until tonight,” she told him before she left. “After I’m finished with the farm work, I have to make a trip to the village. I’ll be home around dusk.”

“You have to give me something to do while I’m here. I’m losing my mind. I forgot what sunlight looks like.”

Sparrow glanced over her shoulder and sighed.

“Want to shell some peas?”

His eyes widened in feigned excitement. “Oh can I really, Mistress? I didn’t faint from the lash, but I don’t think I can endure the excitement of shelling peas.”

“Fine. Then sit there all day.”

She opened the door and he hissed, “Give me the damned peas!”

Unable to control her smile, Sparrow did as he asked.

* * * * *

Sparrow squinted at the crowd of women gathered outside her home. There were tall women, fat women, skinny women, old women, and young women. There were women with dogs on leashes, women selling food and ale out of wagons. The sound of wind instruments and drums echoed over the hillside.

“What in the name of the twin Goddesses is happening here?” Sparrow murmured as she fought her way through the crowd to the front door which, to her dismay, was ajar. A row of tall, burly brunettes whom Sparrow recognized as triplets who farmed on the opposite side of the village, blocked her entrance. At collective wail of laughter from the ladies closest to the door, Sparrow stood on tiptoe and stared over two of the triplets’ shoulders.

Her jaw dropped as she noticed Lock standing as close to the entrance as his chains would allow. Naked, he flexed his biceps and winked at several of the women. Two girls played flutes while an older women -their mother—beat on two tall drums. Usually the mother and daughters played their instruments at village gatherings, but today they’d found a better reason to entertain. Lock danced to the rhythm of the drums, gyrating his hips in a manner so suggestive that Sparrow felt herself blushing as she watched his cock and balls bounce with his every movement. His hands and arms flowed to the sound of the flute, and his sensual mouth wore a smile that was as sarcastic as it was inviting. Sparrow’s favorite frying pan, filled with gold, copper, and silver coins, lay at his feet.

The music stopped, and Lock stood, his hands on his hips, his kinky hair grabbing at his broad shoulders, several strands brushing his lean chest. One of his hands cupped his balls and his other curled around his cock, pumping the shaft. It swelled even more. Giggles and lusty murmurs swept through the crowd.

Lock wiggled his eyebrows and sang, “Me first mate drank a barrel ‘o rum before we slipped into dock. He fell over his feet, the drink had ‘em beat, and a crack in the wharf ate his cock.”

“That’s enough!” Sparrow snarled, shoving her way past the triplets and standing in front of Lock. “Everybody out of my house! Out!”

“Sparrow, we were just having a bit of fun!” someone shouted.

“Come on, Sparrow! Just a little longer. We’ll pay!”

“No!” Sparrow picked up the frying pan and flung the contents at the crowd. The women leapt back, and the ones inside fled.

“And don’t
ever come back
!” Sparrow bellowed after the dispersing crowd. She slammed the door shut and glared at Lock. “Are you crazy?”

He shrugged. “Looks like they accepted my invitation from the other day.”

“Who are you to extend any invitations to
my
house?”

“I can’t believe you were fool enough to throw away that money. The pan was almost full to the top. Another hour or so, and you wouldn’t have had to farm for the rest of the year.”

“What is wrong with you? Is profit all you care about, that you’ll sell yourself even when you don’t have to?”

“I’m a slave!”

Sparrow tossed her hands skyward and began preparing dinner. “Put on your clothes!”

“It’s a warm night and I’d rather have it blowin’ in the breeze.”

“Well
I
wouldn’t!”

“You’re a liar.”

Sparrow’s jaw tensed and she spun, pointing a wooden spoon at him. “My life is not so pathetic that I get my pleasure from watching a filthy pig like you grabbing his own privates!”

He winked. “I sailed around the wild blue sea looking for a woman of lust. On one sunny shore I met with a whore, and devoured her golden tanned bust.”

“Stop saying those disgusting rhymes!” Sparrow hissed.

“Outside the brothel beneath the sky blue, I handed the madam a coin for a screw—”

“I said stop!”

Lock sat against the wall chuckling. “Forgive me, Princess. I’m just a rotten sea-dog and have forgotten about your sweet virgin ears.”

“Why must you make everything so difficult?”

A broad smile flashed across his handsome face as he chimed, “I heard about old Madeline, whose pussy and tits were so damn fine…”

Sparrow clenched her teeth and tried her best to ignore him. She’d begun to realize that Lock, like a child, would continue pursuing the forbidden. He’d soon tire of taunting her—or run out of limericks. Either way, Sparrow would win.

* * * * *

Sparrow guided her wagon toward her barn as the sun set in the clear summer sky. The day had been uncomfortably hot, and the night would apparently be little better. After working around the farm, she’d hitched one of the horses to the wagon and driven to the village for some goods. Due to the heat, she kept her horse to a slow pace and enjoyed the peaceful landscape of rolling hills and distant woods.

At the barn, she unhitched the shaggy-maned chestnut mare and unloaded her supplies. With a sack of wheat slung over her shoulder, she made her way to the house.

Sparrow dumped the sack in a corner of the room and brushed sweat from her forehead. “It’s hot out there.”

“You want hot? Go to the Archipelago,” Lock said.

Sparrow noticed he’d again discarded his tunic and wore only his loincloth, revealing the length of his steely legs. She gazed at the hard lines of his chest and abdomen. His hair dangled down his back in a thick braid, loose at the end since he had nothing to tie it with. She thought what a pity it was for such a fine-looking man to be stuck in a room. If she didn’t devise a way to allow him some exercise, he’d loose that gorgeous body of his.

“Are you hungry?” Sparrow asked. “I bought some loaves of bread in the village, and—”

She stopped mid-sentence as the door burst open and two men, both dressed in dirty, sweat-stained shirts and trousers and each armed with a dagger, stood in the doorway.

* * * * *

Lock glared at the two men who strode into the house. Both were tall and thickly built, one with lanky blond hair, the other with balding black. When the black-haired one leered in Sparrow’s direction, Lock noted he was missing two front teeth.

The blond advanced on Sparrow who grasped the closest weapon—the broom-and rammed the wooden end into her attacker’s gut. He gasped as the blow landed, but recouped quickly and jerked the broom from her hand, dragging her toward him.

“Saw you leaving the village alone, lassie.” The blond licked Sparrow’s ear and she flinched with disgust. Lock’s heart pounded with rage. If he was free of his chains, he’d have ripped out the man’s tongue!

“Looks like she ain’t alone,” the black-haired man glanced in Lock’s direction. “That’s one big man she’s got chained to the wall. Maybe she ain’t as sweet as she looks.”

“Let me go!” Sparrow rammed her elbow into her captor’s gut and stomped on his foot with her booted heel.

He gasped in pain, loosening his hold. She reached for the broom again. The blond lunged at her, his dagger drawn, and grasped her even harder, one arm around her waist while his other hand pressed the blade to her throat.

“Move again, lassie, and I’ll cut your throat.”

Lock clenched his teeth and lunged, blind rage making him momentarily forget he was bound. He nearly fell as the chains tightened.

“Nice, doggie,” the black-haired man sneered in Lock’s direction.

“See if she’s got anything worth taking in this dung heap,” the blond called to his companion. “I’m going to entertain myself before I go.”

He flung Sparrow so hard on the bed that Lock saw her teeth jar, still she kicked at her attacker as he approached. He raised his dagger. “Keep it up, lassie, and I’ll cut you up from your toes to your ears!”

Sparrow’s eyes met Lock’s briefly, and the fear in her expression made his stomach twist in a manner he’d never experienced—not even during his torture. If only she could throw him the key!
Damn the key
, he thought, grasping the chains, curling them around his hands. He pulled with every bit of strength he could muster. The bounty hunters had done their job well, and the chains were firmly rooted in the ground. Lock continued pulling, every muscle in his body feeling as if it had burst into flames. Sweat ran into his eyes, and the chains cut into his palms, making them slick with blood. He felt the metal pulling loose.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” The black-haired man shouted. He leapt on Lock’s back, his dagger drawn. Lock jerked his arm backwards, and the man crashed into the wall, blacking out as the back of his head struck wood.

Across the room, the blond was too busy fighting with Sparrow to notice his friend’s mishap. Lock grasped the chains again, and with one supreme effort, tore them from the ground. Without losing a second, he dove across the room, wrapped the chains still dangling from his manacles around the blond’s throat, and squeezed.

The blond dropped his knife and clawed at Lock’s hands in an attempt to free himself. The man’s body flapped like a fish in Lock’s deadly embrace, but he was unable to make a sound as his breath was completely cut off. Lock waited until the man lay limp in his grasp before snapping his neck to ensure death.