Lock (18 page)

With Lock’s diligent training and patience, the stallion had learned to trust him and obeyed his every command. He and Sparrow spent days arguing over the horse’s name, and finally decided on Sea Storm.

With the approaching fall, the nights grew cooler, and one evening after supper, Lock and Sparrow donned cloaks, mounted Sea Storm, and rode to the edge of the woods. Lock smiled as he nudged the stallion to a canter. Sparrow clung to his waist. He loved the feeling of her body so close to his, reminding him of what was to come later that evening.

By the trees, he slowed the horse, and they plodded along the forest’s edge.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Sparrow said, tugging out a leaf that had blown into Lock’s hair. “It’ll snow in a few months.”

“We’ll most likely be gone by then.”

Sparrow’s eyes clouded. “I keep forgetting we won’t be staying here.”

“I hate to take you from a home you love, Sparrow, but I can’t spend the rest of my life pretending to be a slave.”

“I don’t want you to. I said I’d follow you anywhere, Lock, and I meant it.”

“It’s getting cloudy. Feels like a storm.” Lock glanced skyward. “Let’s go home.”

Sparrow grinned, her hands sliding over his thighs. “I like that idea.”

“I know what your plan is, girl. You’ll wear me out so I won’t be able to travel,” he teased.

“So lacking in stamina, are you?”

He glanced over his shoulder, flinging her a look of carnal challenge. “When it comes to some things, I can outdistance this horse.”

She laughed and dropped her hand to his crotch. “And some parts of you almost outweigh him.”

He glanced between his legs and said, “I wouldn’t go that far, girl. Almost, though.”

She playfully swatted him in the back of the head. Just as a frosty rain started to fall, they turned Sea Storm back toward the house.

By the time they arrived at home, all three were soaked. While Lock brought the stallion to the barn to settle him for the night, Sparrow returned to the house.

When Lock finally stepped inside and shook off his half-frozen cloak, Sparrow had a fire leaping in the hearth and was awaiting him beneath the bedcovers.

She sat up, the blankets falling from her bare breasts, and smiled at him. “Come here and let me warm you up.”

He shed his wet clothes and slid beneath the blankets.

She shivered as his body covered hers, and she teased, “To think I just got warm!”

“I can get you warm,” he captured one of her nipples in his mouth and lapped it, then pulled back, “unless you’d rather sleep alone?”

Sparrow wrapped her arms and legs around him. “Don’t even
think
about leaving this bed!”

“Not right now,” he nipped her shoulder and slid a hand between her silky thighs, cupping her crotch and rubbing gently, “but it might get a little dull for the whole night.”

Before she could speak, his mouth covered hers and he kissed her as if he could draw her very essence inside him so they would never part.

He rolled onto his side and propped his cheek on his hand, gazing down at her. The fingertips of his free hand danced over her flesh, tracing every inch of her shoulders, breasts, and belly. He outlined each rib, stroked the thatch of dark, coiled hairs between her legs, and explored her soft, moist core.

She sighed, watching him through half-closed eyes. She trusted him implicitly, he could see it in her expression, in the way she opened her body and spirit to him. No one had ever trusted him like that, nor had he ever trusted anyone—until now.

“I love looking at you,” he said, his touch making her writhe. Her eyes slipped shut and she uttered a soft, kittenish sound that made his pulse race.

Suddenly the kitten became a tigress, and she pounced on him, her thighs clasping his waist, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Goddess, I want you, Lock!”

“I’m yours, Princess!” He grasped her waist as she rode him hard, her breasts bouncing and her thighs clasping his hips as her wet pussy clenched his cock.

He willed his body into submission as he watched her tremble above him, her breasts thrust forward and her head thrown back. She melted onto his chest, and he felt her giggle.

“You’re a little animal.” He grasped her shoulders and kissed her.

She purred, curling her fist around his cock and squeezing. “I think I like this weapon. How’s about forcing me to walk the plank, Captain?”

“I’ve done it before, girl. Off the plank and into the deep green sea.”

She shrieked and laughed as he jerked her into his arms and stood, carrying her across the room and dropping her on the table.

“Not here again, Lock!” she complained, but clutched his shoulders as he pressed her onto her back and ravaged her breasts. He rubbed his cheek against the soft, warm flesh, took one of her nipples between his teeth and tickled it with his tongue until she moaned. He teased her other breast while he entered her with a swift, hard thrust. She gave a cry of raw pleasure and raked her nails down his arms.

Lock closed his eyes and pinned her hands on either side of her head as he lunged fast and hard into her straining body. He felt the beginning of an incredible climax and lost all reason, until something hard and bristly cracked him over his head.

“Get off her, you SothSea swine!”

Lock’s eyes snapped open, and he glanced over his shoulder in time for the straw end of a broom to crack him across the face.

Shea-Ann stood, poised to do battle, her eyes gleaming with anger in her rounded face.

“Shea-Ann!” Sparrow drew her knees up to her waist and tried to hide her full breasts with both hands.

The nanny drew back the broom, but this time Lock ripped it from her grasp and flung it across the room. “Are you mad, hag?”

“How dare you attack My Lady when she saved your worthless life! I will rip you apart with my bare hands!” Shea-Ann flew at him. He caught her and twisted her arms behind her back, restraining her as gently as possible. He felt like breaking the old witch’s arms, but knew Sparrow would hate him for it.

“Sparrow, run while you can!” the nanny screamed.

“Shea-Ann, will you calm yourself!” Sparrow ordered, retrieving one of Lock’s shirts and tugging it over her head. “He didn’t attack me!”

“He didn’t?” Shea-Ann stopped struggling and stared at Sparrow in disbelief.

“We have much to talk about,” Sparrow told her.

“I dare say! Let me go, you big oaf!”

Cursing in his own language, Lock released the older woman who spun, rubbing her arms, and glared at him.

“What’s he doing unchained? And why was he… He didn’t force you?” Shea-Ann asked weakly.

“No.” Sparrow stood beside Lock and took his hand.

“Don’t tell me the two of you…”

“Are together as man and woman,” Sparrow finished.

The nanny slapped a hand to her forehead and moaned. “Goddess help us! Where did I fail?”

Lock raised his eyes to heaven and reached for his trousers. He dragged them on along with a shirt, not bothering to fasten the ties.

“Shea-Ann, so much has happened since you left. I have things to tell you.” Sparrow pulled out a chair, and Shea-Ann dropped into it. Sparrow continued, “I’ll make tea and we can talk.”

Lock glanced at Sparrow as she boiled water and fixed the mugs, then he turned back at Shea-Ann. If looks could kill, he’d have been dust. He couldn’t help the broad smile that spread across his face.

“I suppose you think it’s going to be an easy life for you, living as a kept man?” the nanny snapped. “All you need to do is please her with that breeder bull’s body of yours!”

“Shea-Ann!” Sparrow said.

“I’ll never be a kept man,” Lock said, all traces of humor disappearing with the old woman’s accusation. He’d spent his childhood as the worst kind of slave and any implication that he would enjoy peddling his flesh made his temper boil. “I agreed to stay here until you returned because Sparrow has feelings for you. We’ll be moving on, and I’ll make a life for her.”

“What kind of life can you give her? She already has a good, honest life. You’re nothing but a pirate!”

Lock’s teeth clenched. How he’d love to wring Shea-Ann’s scrawny neck! What bothered him most was she was right. He’d always lived the life of a criminal, and Sparrow was a good woman. How could he possibly change into a respectable mate for her? How could he provide for her in the manner she deserved, and if they should have children, how could he set an example for them? No child of his would lead the life he had.

“Is it true? Are you going away with him, Sparrow?”

Sparrow approached the table and took Shea-Ann’s hand. “I want to go with him.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Sparrow glanced at Lock, “I love him.”

Lock’s heart pounded, and he stood, heading for the door. He needed air.

A whipping and the rack hadn’t made him feel faint, but the responsibility that accompanied Sparrow’s words was more than he could tolerate.

“You say you love him and he goes walking?” Shea-Ann said. “Sparrow, don’t ruin your life with the likes of him…”

The remainder of the old witch’s words were cut off as Lock stepped into the windy autumn night.

“Sparrow, I need an explanation!” Shea-Ann stood and paced the room. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? He’s a pirate!”

“I know what he is.” Sparrow’s anger bristled. Her sudden confession regarding her love for Lock had tossed her off balance. She hadn’t intended to blurt it out, but it was the only honest answer to Shea-Ann’s question. She did love him.

“How can you love him?”

“It’s not hard, once you get to know him. Will you calm yourself and listen to me?”

“I’m listening!”

For the next several moments, Sparrow explained the events of the past weeks. She told Shea-Ann how Lock had rescued her from the thieves, escaped, and returned.

“I still don’t trust him.” Shea-Ann folded her arms across her chest. “But I admit that maybe way down—I mean way, way down—inside, he might have some redeeming quality. He must feel something for you to have come back.”

Sparrow glanced toward the door. “I think he loves me.”

Shea-Ann laughed. “You’re losing your mind. A man like that’s not capable of love. See how he reacted when you mentioned the word?”

“He doesn’t trust easily, and he has reason.” Sparrow thought about Lock’s mother. Surely a person should be able to trust his own mother. From the moment he was born, Lock had no one to trust. She didn’t condone his actions, but at least she could understand them.

“Sparrow, even if he does have some sense of loyalty to you doesn’t mean it’s enough to change his ways. He’s too old. His path is already chosen.”

Sparrow met her friend’s eyes. “Don’t you believe a person can change if he wants to?”

“Do you really think he wants to?”

“I don’t know. Only Lock can answer that question.”

“For your sake, I hope he does want to change. If not, then I pity you, Sparrow. The man is dangerous. And what are his intentions toward you? You’ve been sleeping together. What if there’s a child?”

“Lock wouldn’t abandon his children.”

Shea-Ann snorted. “He probably has children scattered all over the Archipelago and beyond.”

“He doesn’t. He said he’s been careful, that he doesn’t want any child of his to live the life he has.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes.”

“You’re too naive for your own good!”

“I’m not asking for your approval, Shea-Ann. We waited so I could talk to you because I think of you as my family.”

Shea-Ann embraced Sparrow tightly. “I think of you as a daughter. I want you to be happy. I pray this man wants the same. If you love him, I suppose he can’t be completely horrible.”

“I’m going to find him,” Sparrow said. “Why don’t you get some rest? You must have had a difficult journey.”

Sparrow slipped on her cloak and left the house. She found Lock sitting on the fence, staring at the forest across the field. The wind blew strong and cold, but the rain had stopped. Sparrow tugged the cloak tighter around her and sat beside Lock.

“Why did you leave?” she asked.

“I thought you wanted to talk with the witch alone.”

Sparrow smiled. “Would you at least try to get along with her?”

“Only if she never touches a broom again.”

“Do you have anything to say to me?”

He shook his head.

Sparrow’s stomach lurched. What had she expected, for him to say he loved her back? She knew he wouldn’t say it, but she’d wished.

He reached out and stroked her hair.

“There’s a gathering in the village tomorrow,” she said. “I thought we could go.”

“If you want.”

She hopped off the fence and stood between his legs, a hand on each thigh. “Do you want to go the barn and finish what we started?”

“The barn? You’re as wanton as they come.”