Never Trust a Pirate

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Book: Never Trust a Pirate Read Online Free PDF
Author: Anne Stuart
Tags: Fiction, Historical Romance, Victorian
his mood tremendously. Who would have thought he’d run across such a tempting firecracker in the back alleys of Devonport? Too bad she was probably a virgin—they were always too much trouble. He kept away from the dockside girls—there were too many diseases floating around. When he needed a little distraction he used to visit a certain married woman, but he’d broken it off several weeks ago when he’d become engaged to Gwendolyn, and now, suddenly, he was thinking about sex.
    Not that he wasn’t entirely capable of doing without anything but his own hand for months on end, during the long voyages. But something about that girl, about the way she clung to him at the last minute, about her attempt to kiss him back, had aroused more than just his curiosity.
    He hoped she found her place of employment without running into any more trouble. Though he couldn’t remember any milliner’s shop on North Water Street. That was a residential area, including his own house. Which meant she’d be walking by occasionally. Even if he managed to talk her into bed—and there was really no “if”about it—his fiancée would be a problem. No, now wasn’t the time to pursue a bit of crumpet on the side, as Billy would put it. Though her mouth had been delicious.
    Maybe Billy was right—Gwendolyn could be more trouble than she was worth. Yes, he wanted children, and he wanted a well-run household and a willing woman in his bed at night. But even though he fully intended to ignore most of the demands of marriage, there were bound to be inconveniences, like this current one, when he wanted nothing more than to follow the pert young miss to her place of employment and continue bickering with her. And then kissing her again.
    Life was full of bad bargains. He’d made this one. If the lovely milliner was going to come into his life again he’d wait for it to happen. Otherwise he had better things to do. The smartest thing he could do was put her out of his mind.
    He’d reached the quayside, and the girl was long gone. He looked out at the harbor, the sparkling blue sky, the nip of wind as it tossed the leaves on the trees. It was a perfect day for sailing, and he was stuck on land because of old man Russell’s larceny, just as his new ship was stuck in London while solicitors wrangled over who actually owned her.
    Apparently Russell had left a will, and he’d bequeathed the
Maddy Rose
to its namesake, his middle daughter, Madeleine Rose. Normally that would be of no consequence given that any assets of a thief were confiscated, but apparently the damned girl’s name was on the legal papers, and one solicitor thought she needed to be found to sign off on it before he could take ownership.
    And so he was stuck in limbo, with only a small ketch and a skiff to distract him. No wonder he was in a dangerous mood.
    He really shouldn’t blame old man Russell, Luca thought, breathing in the salty air. Luca had spent the first twelve years of his life stealing anything he could get his nimble hands on, and he still would,if the treasure was worth snatching. Who was he to pass judgment on another thief?
    But this thief had stolen from
him
, and that was a different matter entirely. He’d trusted the old man, even when he’d showed up full of crazy accusations. Eustace Russell had died that very night, his carriage tumbling off the side of a cliff, and Luca had always wondered if some fever of the brain had afflicted the normally levelheaded man. But he’d been heading away from the port, dying somewhere in the vast expanse of Dartmoor, which didn’t make it seem as if he was trying to escape.
    It was no longer his concern, except for the missing signature to complete his ownership of the
Maddy Rose
. Until that happened he was temporarily landlocked, waiting for the solicitors to finish arguing among themselves, when he wanted nothing more to be out there away from responsibilities and nagging voices…
    He stopped himself midthought.
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