A Pirate's Kiss Read online

  “A bit late for that, Sister, don't you think?” Jeremy drawled as he crossed the room. He dropped down into his brother's chair behind the desk, propped his booted feet on the edge, and leaned back to study them both. “Your luck holds, I see.”

  The last was directed at Slade.

  “Thanks to you, I suppose. Yet I must protest your sending your sister out onto the docks on the arm of some dandy, playing at being his paramour while I stand upon crates, admiring my new hemp jewelry.”

  Jeremy scowled at Alessandra. “Paramour? Lessa, you were supposed to wear Alex's clothes and keep to the shadows until you could fire from the alley beside the warehouse!”

  “Ah, so the lass refuses to heed your words, as well?”

  “Will you two stop? Please, just stop! Alex is in trouble, and we have to get to the Merry Anne before she sails or we may well be attending his funeral rather than shooting at ropes from the docks…”

  “The Merry Anne? But isn't that…?”

  “Kells. Damn it, Alessandra. Why didn't you say so?”

  In exasperation, she growled, “You did not give me a chance!”

  “Well this is just brilliant,” Slade quipped, leveling a look at Alessandra. “You know what this means, don't you? It means that I very well may kill both you and Alex when I return from this ludicrous task.”

  Alessandra lifted a winged brow. “Oh? And why is that? Did the infamous Kells twist your knickers in a bunch some years ago, Captain? I heard the two of you had quite the falling out over some Italian lady.”

  “Who told you this?” Slade asked, sliding his gaze in Jeremy's direction.

  Jeremy held his hands up. “Don't look to me. I told her nothing.”

  Slade's gaze slid back to Alessandra. He crossed his arms. “She was French, not Italian, and it wasn't a falling out. It was very nearly a war. But that has nothing to do with us at present. I do believe it is your brother you wish to keep alive.”

  Alessandra grinned sweetly up at him. “We should probably hurry. The ship sails in less than two hours.”

  “We?” Slade repeated, eyes widening. He shook his head. “No, there is no we if by we you mean you and I. Jeremy can come along if he wishes, but you--” he jabbed his finger in her direction, “You are to stay here, in this house, under lock and key.”

  “You would keep me prisoner in my own house?”

  “If it means you will be safe and out of harm's way, yes.”

  Alessandra regarded him through narrowed eyes a moment before letting her breath out in a huff and shrugging. She turned her back to him. “Well then. That is that, isn't it?”

  She turned on her heel and sashayed towards the door. “You gentlemen do be careful and I will be waiting on tenterhooks for your safe return. Oh, except you, Captain Donovan,” she said, turning to give him a scathing look over her shoulder. “You can rot in hell for all I care.”

  The door clipped neatly shut behind her, and yet Slade winced as though she'd slammed it with tremendous force.

  At his place behind the desk, Jeremy chuckled. “You know she doesn't like when you treat her like that.”

  Slade sighed deeply and shook his head, still looking at the door. “No, she does not. But neither do I like how she dances upon the knife's edge of peril without giving a thought to what could happen if she were to fail her task.”

  Shaking his head again, Slade gave Jeremy a look that spoke volumes. “Your sister is a hellion.”

  Jeremy chuckled softly and nodded his head. “And well she should be, idolizing Tristan and I as she did while growing up. I would be more surprised had she turned out to be the perfect lady instead of the hoyden she is.”

  Slade harrumphed and crossed the room. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and said, “Make sure she stays here, Jeremy. If you go with me, there's no guarantee she won't follow us.”

  Jeremy waved him away. “Go, go. Be the hero. Both Alessandra and I will be here when you return.”

  Slade nodded once and left, wondering all the while what the gleam in Alessandra's eyes meant when she had looked at him.

  * * *

  Alessandra paced the length of her room, muttering angry words beneath her breath, most of them calling to question Slade's parentage and lifestyle. He had no right telling her it was not her place to worry and care for her brother's well-being, nor did he have the right to tell her what to do. He wasn't her husband or relative, so just who did he think he was, ordering her about as he had?

  She was in the midst of a turn when the sound of raised voices reached her ears. She frowned, wondering who on earth would be yelling at this hour? Slade had gone – she'd watched him from the stairs – and Jeremy wasn't in the habit of raising his voice at the servants, so who...?

  She left her room, hurrying to the stairs to see for herself what the commotion was about. However, what she saw stopped her in her tracks. Alex stood in the entry way, ashen faced, with blood dripping from the tips of his fingers.

  Jeremy was there as well, but Alessandra could only focus on Alex. He glanced up and saw her, offered her one of his usual cheery grins, decidedly lacking in cheer this time, and said, “Morning, Lessa. You were right. I got myself into quite a bit of trouble, but no worries. I've made it right.”

  “What?” Alessandra breathed, shaking her head. All she could focus on was the pallor of his face, the drips of red steadily painting the floor.

  Alex chuckled and procured a bundle of letters from his pocket and waved them about, his laughter gaining volume as though the very sight of them made him extremely giddy.

  Alessandra watched the letters, back and forth, back and forth, like a metronome, hypnotizing, with only one thought racing through her mind. Slade had gone after something that was no longer there, but here.

  Her hands slid to her mouth. “He's going to be killed.”

  Chapter Five

  Alessandra bolted down the remaining stairs, past both her brothers, and raced out into the street, her gaze scanning up and down before she realized there would be no hackney available at this hour. Changing course, she hurried to the stables.

  She had to save him. Had to. The kiss they had shared earlier had meant something, darn him, and he could not die before she had a chance to tell him. A chance to find out if…

  “Going somewhere?”

  Tristan.

  Alessandra went about the motions of readying her mount, the words pouring from her lips all the while. “Slade is going to die, Tris. He kissed me, and I think I love him, but Alex is wounded and now Slade is going to face Kells, and…”

  One foot in the stirrup, she made to hoist herself up just as Tristan caught her around the waist, pulling her back down to stand beside him.

  “Woah, Poppet. You put Slade and Kells in the same sentence, in the same breath, and still think you're riding out of here alone to go racing to the rescue? I think not. Alex is wounded?”

  “Yes, but Jeremy is inside with him now. Let me go, Tristan! Slade could die, and I--”

  “And you love him. You think. Yes, I got that bit,” he said, but still, he refused to release her. “How badly is Alex wounded? Was he shot? A knife wound? What did the little hothead do this time?”

  “Dabbled with a duchess who has a penchant for writing to the Duke about her peccadilloes. Gunshot. Naught more than a flesh wound, Tris, but I vow you need to take your siblings in hand, and soon.”

  Slade's voice came from outside the stables and Alessandra stilled instantly.

  Her brother chuckled. “The females sooner than the males, eh? This one could send me to an early grave, flitting about in the wee hours, riding off to rescue pirates and what.”

  Slade joined them in the stables. “It is possible I could be persuaded to help you out with that one.”

  “With a kiss?” Tristan teased.

  Alessandra felt his gaze on her, but held her silence. He was here. He was safe, and … emotion rose up within her, choking off her words.

  “I beli
eve we've moved beyond kisses, Tris. I'm thinking nothing less than full out ravishment will do. The lady is quite spirited, you see.”

  Tristan cleared his throat, clearly disturbed by the turn of conversation. “Then I must decline, I fear. These days I've siblings who keep me far too busy to indulge in a bit of woman--”

  Alessandra hit him. “He means me, you dolt!”

  Both men chuckled at her outburst, and finally, Tristan released her.

  She turned immediately to Slade. “You have to marry me first. And you cannot be a pirate – it is far too dangerous, and our children will need their father….”

  He stared down at her, but his words were addressed to her brother. “Cannot be a pirate? That tears it, Tris. The deal is off. No danger, no excitement. A man has his needs, you know?”

  “Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry too much about losing either of those things, Slade. Life with Alessandra is sure to be fraught with danger, because the minute you make her angry, she will retaliate, and the gel has quite an imagination for exacting her revenge. Just ask Jeremy. I think he sleeps with a lamp burning to this day on account of what she did to him.”

  Rolling her eyes, Alessandra said, “It wasn't all that bad. And I was ten, so I doubt it really scarred Jeremy as you all say.”

  “Oh, I don't know about that, Alessandra,” Slade said. “I've heard the tale. It was quite horrible. I couldn't sleep for weeks just thinking about it. And you were only ten, you say? That makes it worse.”

  Alessandra scoffed. “Very well, it was a horrible, horrible thing I did. I cannot help it if you males are frightened so easily. Really, I cannot fathom how you all gloat about the various dangerous misdeeds you've lived through, and yet will succumb to the vapors at the sight of a spider on your pillow.”

  Slade looked at Tristan dubiously. “A spider, Tristan? The way you told it, it was a hoary beast from the pits of hell.”

  “It was no normal spider, Slade,” Tristan assured him. “The thing was as big as my fist.”

  “Your fist now, or your fist then?”

  “Now.”

  “Oh.”

  “Indeed.”

  He regarded Alessandra with a pained expression, then shook his head. “I am sorry, my dear, but if that is the best you can do, I do not see us living out the rest of our lives happily.”

  Alessandra laughed and waved her hand. “Did you not hear, Slade? That was when I was ten. I have come up with vastly more vile punishments since then. My brothers simply refuse to forget the spider incident.”

  Slade sighed dramatically. “I just don't know, Alessandra. Marriage is till death do we part--”

  “Are we going to spend the morning arguing in the stables, or are you going to settle this by kissing me into silence again?” Alessandra stepped close and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Well, when you put it that way…”

  About the Author

  Tiffany St.Claire - the “Queen of Romance in Minutes”

  Better than chocolate, without the calories!

  Strapped for time, but still want to “live”a little? We’re here for you. Whether you’re in need of a quick “pick me up” or on the lookout for a fast-paced, heart-pounding, breathtaking adventure, you’re in the right place. Sit down with and get lost in one of our romantic short stories today. One taste and you’ll fall in love, guaranteed. You’ll be glad you did!

  Tiffany St.Claire is a mother and daughter writing team who weave tales of romance from the sweetly heart-wrenching to downright hilarious, warm and cuddly to scorchingly sensual, filled with wit, magic, and lots of love and laughter.

  Grab yourself a “Tiffany” romance today and feed the crave – they’re scandalously delicious!

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  About the Author

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