Lock (12 page)

She noticed Lock seated at the table, eating his morning meal and staring at her with none of the tenderness she’d seen in his eyes the night before. He wore only trousers and boots, his torso bare, the key to the shackles dangling from a piece of rope around his neck.

“What the hell is this?” she demanded, shaking the chains binding her feet.

“I found a solution to our problem.”

“What?”

“From now on, Sparrow, this is my farm. You’re my slave.”

“This is ridiculous! Get these chains off me!”

He smiled, leaning back in his chair and watching her struggle against her bonds.

“You won’t get away with this!” Sparrow snarled.

“Of course I will. Those two girls who work for you left to visit relatives with their mother. They won’t be back for weeks. No one else ever comes to this farm. It’s just us, Princess.”

“Lock, think about this,” she pleaded, torn between fury and pain. “I know you care about me. You’re just doing this for spite. After last night, you can’t possibly—”

“Last night was a release both of us have wanted for months. Nothing more.”

Sparrow stared at him, wondering if he saw how his words lacerated her. Last night had been more than a sexual game to her. She cared for him, and she knew that beneath his icy barrier, he cared for her, too.

“Lock—”

“Just call me master.” He stood, tossing her a hateful smile before leaving the house.

“Wait!” she shouted. “Damn you, Lock! Listen to me!”

Halfway out the door, he glanced over his shoulder.

“Make sure you take care of my animals,” she said. “Don’t forget to milk my cow, and be nice to her!”

“Be nice to a cow?”

Sparrow poked her finger so hard in his direction her chains rattled. “Just do what I tell you!”

“You’re hardly in the position to be making demands.”

“Listen to me, you bastard! This farm is all I have! Have you ever worked a farm in your life? Do you know what you’re doing out there?”

He looked disgusted. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It’s a farm. How hard can it be to run?”

“Just milk the cow before you do anything.”

He stepped back inside, his arms folded across his chest as he stalked her, standing just shy of her grasp. “Like that cow, do you?”

Sparrow paused, her eyes on his. He’d do anything to spite her. She knew it. Even after what they’d shared last night, even after she’d saved his life. It was her initial act of kindness that seemed to infuriate him the most.

“Why are you so angry with me for helping you?” she asked.

“By keeping me chained like an animal? Fine help you were.”

“You know what I mean, Lock.”

“Maybe this experience will teach you to
mind your own business
.”

This time when he left, he didn’t return in spite of her call for him to come back.

Sparrow grasped the chains and pulled, getting nothing for her effort except sore hands, but even Lock had difficulty ripping the chains from the floor. She was still amazed he’d been able to do it. She wondered why he hadn’t done it before. Perhaps even he hadn’t realized he’d had the ability. She’d never seen anyone as furious as he’d been at the thieves, and she knew at times anger accentuated strength.

After the first hour of sitting on the floor staring around the room, she began to understand the extent of Lock’s boredom.

By the time he returned to the house at dusk, she was actually grateful to have someone to talk to. She noted he looked hot and dirty, but that didn’t stop him from tossing her a roguish grin.

“I hope you haven’t ruined my farm.” She stood, tapping her foot. “Did you feed the chickens and the pigs? I hope you let the horses out in the field, and you better have milked Daphne.”

“
Daphne
? You named the cow
Daphne
?”

“What’s so funny.”

“That’s a stupid name for a cow. Perhaps I shouldn’t say that. You didn’t name her after another relative, did you?”

Sparrow wondered if he saw how his words wounded her, but what could she expect from the cold, ignorant son-of-a-bitch?

“Did you do what I told you?” she demanded.

He ignored her and began ladling into bowls the stew that had been cooking all day over the fire. He brought her one with a chunk of bread.

She glanced at the food with disgust. “You cooked that stew, so I’m not about to eat it. What do you know about cooking?”

“Starve then.” He placed the food at her feet and sat at the table, positioning his seat so he could stare at her. Sparrow wished she could wipe the gloating expression from his face.

After a moment she sat on the floor and began eating, hoping she wouldn’t gag on the first bite. To her surprise, it tasted good. Better than her own cooking, she hated to admit.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” she demanded.

“I was a cook after I was a cabin boy.”

“Who taught you sailing? Your father?”

Lock laughed. “Your guess is as good as mine about who he was.”

Sparrow was momentarily taken aback. When she spoke, it was with disbelief. “You’re holding a helpless woman captive when your own mother was attacked? You must really make her proud.”

He sprang across the room and grasped her shoulders, pinning her to the wall. He leaned his face so close to hers that their noses almost brushed and she could see rage smoldering beneath the surface of his pale eyes. “My mother is a madam who loaned me to any pig with a coin until I was old enough to get away from that demon’s den!”

Just when Sparrow thought he couldn’t shock her any more, he managed to do or say something worse. This time, however, her disgust wasn’t directed at him. What sort of a life did he have? No wonder he thought being a pirate was an acceptable choice. Anything must have been better than the abuse he spoke of.

She murmured, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“There’s a lot you didn’t know when you bought me, girl. Now you’re just starting to realize and regret it.”

“I don’t regret it. I did the decent thing. It’s not my fault you can’t accept kindness from anybody.”

“You live in a fantasy!” He shook her before turning away and pacing the room. He ran a hand through his hair. “You took a pirate into your home.”

“Then why can’t you let me into your heart? I think I have gotten there a little.”

“A heart pumps blood, Sparrow. That’s all. It has nothing to do with feelings. You’re looking for a lover. You won’t find one here.”

“I already have.”

He laughed. “What will it take for you to understand exactly what I am? Isn’t it enough that I have you chained in your own home?”

“I have you chained!” She pointed in his face. “You’re so afraid you might feel for me that you have to treat me like this.”

“Crazy. She’s absolutely mad,” he said to the air as he sat down and finished his meal.

When they finished eating, he filled a basin with water and dragged it to her.

“You can do the washing up,” he said. “That’s your job around here. I run the farm, you do the wash.”

“Fine.” Sparrow began washing the dishes, willing herself to remain calm when she wished she could clobber him with her empty soup bowl. “I’m not so stubborn that I’ll sit in a filthy mess just to spite you.”

“Glad you feel that way.” He removed his shirt, stained with dirt and sweat, and tossed it in her face. She flung it aside, glaring at him. His trousers and socks followed. Sparrow was too furious to give his gorgeous body more than a cursory glance.

She picked up a wooden spoon from the basin and hurled it at his back when he turned away. His head snapped over his shoulder just as she flung her bowl. He raised his hand in time to thrust it aside and took a step toward her, dodging another bowl and two mugs.

“Stay away from me unless you plan on unchaining me!” she hissed.

“I don’t think so.” He caught her wrists and tugged her to his naked body.

She rammed her knee upward, aiming between his legs, but he shifted and she struck his hip instead.

“That was just vicious,” he said, pinning her to the wall. “I have to think of a fitting punishment for my little slave.”

She struggled, but his hold was unbreakable. He kissed her neck, and Sparrow’s body tingled. Damn him!

“Stop it!” she snarled.

His response was a kiss so deep and long she thought she might faint. She felt her body surrendering, but she refused to let him see how much he affected her. She said, “The only way you’ll ever sleep with me again is if you take me by force.”

“I don’t think I’ll be forcing anything, Princess.” One of his hands moved to her breast and caressed her through her shirt.

She felt her heartbeat quicken at his touch. “I want love. I won’t ever give myself to a man who mistreats me like this.”

“A little late for that.”

“You had me once, Lock, and the memory had better last you a lifetime, unless you are the rapist the bounty hunters assumed you were.”

He turned from her quickly, dragged on another pair of trousers and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” she called.

“Swimming.”

He slammed the door behind him, leaving Sparrow alone and aching with desire.

The sun had set completely by the time Lock reached the lake two hills away from Sparrow’s farm.

He yanked off his trousers and waded into the moonlit water. Never in his life had he imagined anyone irritating him as much as Sparrow. The woman lived in a dream! She kept insisting he possessed redeeming qualities when he was a thief and a murderer. Last night when he’d returned to the house, she’d thrown herself into his arms like he was a long lost lover instead of a returning slave. What bothered him most was that once she’d clung to him, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He’d known, as soon as he’d stepped into the house he was going to bed her. He hadn’t abandoned his freedom simply to keep her out of danger. He wanted payment for all those months of being chained to the floor. He wanted satisfaction for the desire he’d felt since his health had returned. All those weeks of looking at Sparrow, listening to her soft, pleasant voice, catching the aroma of the floral-scented soap she bathed with had driven him mad with lust. That small taste of her when he’d tried to steal the key had aroused him more than he realized, and now that he’d made love with her, his appetite for her had increased to the point of starvation. If he’d been a different sort of man, he would have taken her by force. Lock was many things, but he was not a rapist. He’d spent too many years abused by others to do the same to somebody else. Murder he could commit and accept. Murder only sent a person out of this hellish world. Rape was an attempt to rob a person’s dignity, and as big a thief as Lock was, a person’s body was the one thing he would not steal.

He dove until he touched the lake’s rocky bottom then surfaced and floated on his back, gazing up at the starry sky. She’d enjoyed last night, of that he was certain. He’d made love with her in every position and manner imaginable. For a woman who’d never been with a man, she caught on fast. A couple of times he thought her stamina would outlast his, but he’d never been so excited by any woman and he’d even managed to impress himself with his longevity. Afterward, Sparrow had fallen into such a deep, contented sleep, she hadn’t even stirred when he carried her to the floor and chained her down.

She’d looked so pretty and sweet while asleep he’d almost changed his mind about shackling her. They could have spent every night in her bed—or in his if he took her back to the SothSeas. She’d been completely giving of herself. She’d touched him with more gentleness than he’d ever felt and whispered endearments no one had ever spoken in his presence. Her lust had been intoxicating, but her affection had threatened to steal his essence and make him hers forever. Lock belonged to no one but himself. He wasn’t about to give one small female control over him that even whip-wielding bounty-hunters hadn’t been able to take.

He swam to shore and sat on the grass. Sparrow might have refused his advances tonight, but eventually he’d wear her down. No woman so lusty could control her urges indefinitely, and after last night, he knew exactly what made her scream.

After several moments, Lock made his way back to the farm, pausing to look over the garden. Farming was almost as difficult as running a ship properly. It was hot, dirty work that required strength and patience. Part of him respected Sparrow for how well she did on her own. When he’d finished the farm work, he’d cut enough wood to last through the winter and stacked it behind the house, though he wondered why he’d bothered. He and Sparrow would be at the Archipelago long before winter. Of course he’d have to assign a couple of eunuchs to guard her while he was at sea. He couldn’t risk having a lady unprotected on SeaSpider Island.

He at least wanted to wait for that witch Shea-Ann to return so he could have the pleasure of gagging her annoying mouth and chaining her next to Sparrow for a few days. When he and the princess left, he might not even untie Shea-Ann. He shook his head, his smile fading. He couldn’t do that, or else Sparrow might really never bed him again.