soft flesh. She had landed against his chest in a tangle of smooth limbs, and her silky hair was brushing the underside of his stubbly chin. She pulled away more slowly than he expected, bracing her palms on the rough leather of his vest. Then, with her ample bosom still pressed up against his chest, she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Rawden’s arms tightened around her slender frame as he looked down at her sweetly upturned face. She was even more beautiful up close. Thick lashes fluttered over sea-blue eyes, and her pink lips were slightly parted in surprise. Rawden inhaled sharply, and he was overtaken by her pure, bright scent. She smelled clean and fresh, like a crisp summer’s day.
Too clean, a voice niggled at the back of his head.
Rawden sighed, remembering himself. He slid his hands to her elbows and steadied her as he stepped back resolutely.
“You should go,” Rawden said gruffly as he watched the police from the corner of his eye.
His suggestion was met with silence, and he glanced down at the girl with a dark frown. She had tilted her head to one side and was studying him curiously, blue eyes unblinking.
“Why?” she asked quietly.
Rawden’s fingers tightened at her elbow and he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.
“Because I know you don’t belong here,” he breathed, his warm breath moistening her neck.
He leaned back, certain that the daring gesture had shocked her to her senses—only to watch incredulously as the girl took a bold step forward and placed an open hand on his forearm. Leaning against him, she rose to her toes and mimicked his actions, pressing her open mouth to his temple.
“And what makes you think that?” she whispered, allowing the very tip of her tongue to graze the ridge of his ear.
She smiled and slid down the length of his body, letting him feel her every curve glide down the steel planes of his torso. Rawden felt raw heat surge through his limbs, pooling where her hips meet his. Logic lost to lust as he revelled in the warm glow of her body pressed to him. His eyes dropped to trace the curve of her bare shoulder and the swell of her breasts. His rough hands fisted in the fabric of her airy shift and he walked her back into the door—through which he had been trying to escape just moments before. He pressed her firmly up against the rough wooden surface and smoothed his hands down her sides to grip her hips. She responded by wrapping her arms around his middle, her fingers tracing a distracting pattern on his lower back.
“Girl,” he growled low in his throat, “this is a dangerous game.”
“So?” she answered coyly, nipping at his chin. “Are you going to play?”
“Perhaps,” he said as he twisted his fingers in her hair and gently pulled her head back. “You certainly need to learn a lesson or two.”
“Oh?” she questioned playfully, allowing him to plant a row of rough kisses up the length of her exposed neck. “What lessons would those be?”
“Foolish lass,” Rawden grunted as he reached down to give her pert bottom a light pinch. “For one, that innocent, high-born girls should not pretend to be strumpets in sailors’ taverns.”
“I’m innocent, am I?”
Rawden stilled immediately, closing his eyes. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine her creamy legs wrapped around him, her pliant flesh yielding to his desire and her cries of passion at his ear. He could have her now if he wanted—let her think she’d won at her game of masquerade and sate his lust with her sweet body without caring about her reputation. And then…he would leave her ruined and sullied.
His breathing heavy, Rawden reluctantly pushed away from her. Planting his palms on either side of her head, he lowered his face to hers. Yes, he thought as he took in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, you’re still innocent. Though her seductive confidence may have been the result of some previous carnal experience, her expression was not the jaded, calculating look of a wharf prostitute. Neither was her face marred by the bitter wrinkle lines of a woman forced to pleasure others at her own expense. He inhaled deeply. Her skin was too soft and smelled of expensive oils. Rawden sighed.
“You don’t belong here,” he repeated gruffly. “Go home before someone ruins you.”
“Someone?” she asked, arching an aristocratic brow.
“Not me,” he warned through gritted teeth, pulling her away from the door. “But if you stay here, someone else will certainly force you to do something you’ll regret.” He stood back, his eyes hard. “So go home, little girl.”
With that, he brusquely brushed past her, pulling open the tavern door with enough force to send it slamming into the wall. He stalked out into the cold, frustration clawing through his veins. He tried to banish the phantom feeling of her body under his as he strode hurriedly away. It was so darned cold, and he quickened his steps. He shoved his hands back into his pockets—and then stopped cold.
Slowly, he reached deeper into his trouser pockets, fingers fumbling and searching. Jaw dropping, he turned out the fabric to be absolutely sure.
Nothing, he thought in disbelieving wonder.
That innocent young girl had just stolen all his money.
Chapter 2
Juliana Wright pulled her thick cloak more tightly around her shoulders and hurried through the twisting alleys. She was on a mission. She’d finally found the right man for the job—a rare type of honourable villain—and then he’d vanished into the night without so much as whispering his name. She frowned crossly. For a moment in that seedy tavern, she had really thought that she’d had him in the palm of her hand. Thankfully, it hadn’t taken too long for Juliana to pry his name off of a few inebriated sailors; apparently he was legendary for his former exploits abroad.
Captain Rawden Wood.
He had once been one of the wealthiest pirates in the Western seas, ravishing treasure-laden ships along the Mediterranean and African coastlines. His ship, the Golden Maiden, had been a shining example of marine engineering—a sleek and swift pirate vessel equipped with the latest cannons and the most cutthroat mercenaries. ‘Twas a shame for him that the illicit gold had all but dried up in Europe. It caused his ship to fall from the pinnacle of its past. It had his crew biting at the bit with restless greed. It made Captain Rawden Wood desperate for money.
And that made him perfect for her job, Juliana thought to herself with a sly smile. Just perfect.
Now, she just needed to find him again.
Her steps were light and sure as she skipped toward her destination. But when she rounded a corner, she almost stumbled to a stop.
A trio of shabbily dressed thugs was casually leaning against the walls, as if they had been expecting her. One of them was picking his teeth with the tip of a nasty-looking dagger. He turned to size her up, and a cruel grin lit his face. He took a menacing step toward her.
“Well, well, well,” he said in a voice as gritty as sand. “What do we have here?”
Juliana spun around, ready to run back the way she came. But another pair of goons emerged from the gloom, their grubby hands reaching for her. She ducked out of their reach and turned to face their leader, realising grimly that she’d been cornered. Her eyes darted from him to his cronies and back again. Their clothes were crusted with salt, their hair matted with dirt and their fingertips blackened with grime. She recognised the sort immediately. Swabbies. They were the grunts of a ship, spending most days mopping up the deck. Their leader—a heartless, soulless pirate, no doubt—was still grinning maniacally as he invaded her personal space, thrusting his face close to hers. His greasy, foul smell assaulted her nostrils, so she did the only thing she could think of.
She turned up her nose at him.
He laughed. “Is that any way to treat an old friend? Surely you remember me—good old first matey Clegg?”
“What