Tethered (5 page)

And she didn’t want to lose him, either.

Yasmeen continued, “Then come and let me know that he’s countermanded my orders, of course—if he does not beat you to it. But if he feels it necessary to overturn my orders without first consulting me, I know he’d have a damned compelling reason. That’s worth listening to.”

Slowly, Archimedes sat up, holding her gaze. By the sweet heavens, he was a beautiful man. The shock had fled, leaving an expression of incredible intensity that all but shouted the depth of his love. Yasmeen’s throat constricted. Why had she never said this so clearly before? She thought he’d known. Perhaps he had—but had just never thought she’d say it.

Beautiful, incredible man.

And if he kept staring at her like that, she would soon throw herself into his arms. Shaken by the strength of her reaction, Yasmeen forced herself to look away from him. Vashon had managed to close her mouth, but clearly had no idea how to respond.

Yasmeen cleared her throat and helped her out. “It probably won’t happen, you realize. He won’t even make any requests. In the unlikely event that he does, however, these are my instructions.”

The quartermaster released a long breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

“All right.” Yasmeen slid a sheaf of papers across the desk. “This is your contract. Your duties are listed; if you have any questions, I suggest that you ask the steward for clarification before you sign it. After you have signed it, he’ll add you to the payroll. Your wages and share are noted on the second page.”

Vashon’s eyes rounded. “That’s incredibly generous, ma’am.”

Only if she lasted long enough to collect it. “Don’t be fooled by the
number, mademoiselle. My last quartermaster thought that amount of money made him a man of leisure—but I will work every single denier out of you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then welcome aboard
Lady Nergüi
, mademoiselle. You’re dismissed.”

The moment Vashon made her exit, Yasmeen’s gaze returned to Archimedes. He rose from the pillows, so lean and strong.

The roughness of his voice was a caress up her spine. “Why?”

“Why do I state what has become obvious to all of the crew? I am still captain, but this ship is your lady, too. I trust you to care for her, for
us
, if the need arises. I trust that you will do it, even if by undermining me you risk my anger—I trust that you will do it, even if it’s at the expense of your own heart.” Yasmeen stood and came around the desk, her pulse racing. She wasn’t adept at these sorts of declarations, not like he was. Still, she was glad to make it. “But I would never ask you to risk your heart. I want you to know that if you ever do need to override me, you can without fear that I’ll resent you for it. Because
I
have no fear that you would ever do it without great reason.”

He crossed the cabin, caught her face between his hands. His emerald gaze searched her features, as if seeking any doubts. “You don’t fear at all?”

“No.” Not that he would take her ship. She only feared losing him.

His focus dropped to her lips. “Kiss me, then,” he said.

Gladly. He met her halfway—and oh, his mouth. So sweet. His arms slid around her waist. She clung to his shoulders, sought a deeper taste, and with the parting of his lips she began shaking from the intensity of the emotions tearing through her. How could he do this to her so easily? Often, their kisses were playful, fun. Not this one. It brought her heart up out of her chest, filled the space between them.

Yasmeen never knew what to do when he left her so vulnerable, so open. She kissed him—by the lady, how could she not when it felt as if she would die without it?—and she loved him. God, how she loved him. But she knew the only thing
that saved her when she exposed her heart was Archimedes himself, and that she trusted him never to crush it.

He knew, too. When he lifted his head—not far, just enough to look into her eyes—his breathing was as rough as hers, and already he was helping her find a more comfortable tack. “You made me lose my head, Mrs. Fox. I meant to steal my daggers back.”

Smiling, she pressed another kiss to his mouth and dropped her hands to her thighs. “Look again, Mr. Fox. I didn’t take them.”

He was quick, but she was quicker. By the time his hands fell to his hips, she’d already slipped the blades into his sheaths and returned her arms around his neck. His grin matched hers.

“You gave them back?”

“I saved you the humiliation of fumbling when you attempted to steal them.”

“Truly?” His eyes narrowed. “No. You’ve revealed yourself, Captain. Now I know you love me.”

“It must be love,” she agreed. “You humiliate yourself so regularly, yet I try to spare you whenever I can.”

Laughing, he caught her waist again, dragged her against him. “And this time, I’m grateful for it. Because God knows, I would only have to touch your thighs and completely forget why I was attempting to grab a pair of knives, instead.”

He only had to touch her, too—though right now, they couldn’t follow through. With a sigh, Yasmeen laid her head against his shoulder.

Archimedes groaned. “Our daily visit with Mrs. Fortescue?”

“Yes.” Though rather than simply adjusting and verifying their direction, they would be meeting with the navigator to establish their new course when they left Port Fallow. Such consultations always took more time. “A longer visit.”

“I prefer this,” Archimedes said.

She preferred this, too. His taut muscles, his warmth, the slide of his fingers up her back…Yasmeen couldn’t stifle her soft sound of pleasure.

“You should stop,” she said.

He didn’t, and there wasn’t just simple pleasure now, but heat. His hands cupped her bottom, lifted her against him. His
mouth sought the curve of her jaw, the sensitive skin at her neck.

With a moan, she let her head fall back, giving him better access. “I’ll kill you for this.”

A shudder ripped through him. “Good God, that was cruel. You know how that arouses me.”

She did. Lowering her face to his, she scraped the sharp tip of her forefinger beneath his jaw, watched the ecstasy tightening his features. Archimedes Fox relished a bit of danger—in any form.

He closed his eyes. “Don’t sneer at me,” he said. “If you do, I’ll probably come.”

The laugh burst from her, soothing the burn between them. Yasmeen kissed him, hard, and his reluctance echoed hers when he slowly let her down. She looked away from his flushed features, searching for a distraction. A few minutes remained before Fortescue arrived, but if Yasmeen didn’t find something to occupy herself, their navigator would find them writhing naked on the desk, instead.

Probably best not to look at the desk now, either.

Her gaze lit on the pile of correspondence on the table. Not just letters—packages, too. Some that might have been stacks of pages bound together. “Is the Lady Lynx story in there?”

“It is.” His long stride carried him to the table, but he picked up a small envelope rather than a manuscript. “I plan to read it to you tonight.”

She would love that. “And is there any other news?”

“Zenobia wants us to know that the origin of Lady Lynx has been found out.”

A bit late. Yasmeen automatically took the letter he held out, then read the direction in surprise. She rarely received correspondence, and none of it came to Port Fallow—she collected it from her solicitor. “This was addressed to me?”

“From Scarsdale.”

A good friend, but not usually the writing sort. She broke the seal, and her belly seemed to drop. Not a letter. An invitation.

Watching her face, Archimedes frowned. “What is it?”

“His wedding.”

“To a woman?”

Unfortunately, it was the only sort of marriage Scarsdale could have. “It’s his duty to produce an heir,” she said. “Goddammit. As long as his prick still works, he can do his duty. Why couldn’t he go on as he was and marry when he was an old man? And why the hell invite
me?
Perhaps he hopes that my presence will horrify the wedding party so much, the bride will flee.”

But, no. Though she wished it, Yasmeen knew that wouldn’t be why. Scarsdale had many friendly acquaintances, but few friends. She was one—and he wanted her there for that reason alone. Still, as his friend, she’d make damn certain he absolutely wanted this.

Casually, Archimedes said, “Since the navigator is coming soon, perhaps we ought to decide where we’re heading next.”

Yasmeen glanced up at him. “Not Cordoba?”

“Eventually. But I thought we might visit Zenobia first, to make certain she’s all right. Afterward, why not detour to England and visit Scarsdale?”

“Oh, you are a brilliant man. Unless I’m convinced that he truly wants this marriage, we’ll abduct him and tell his bride that I had my way with him. No gentle-bred miss would want him after that.” She narrowed her eyes at him when he laughed. “Why do you think Zenobia might not be all right?”

“She received a visit from my old partner. It upset her.”

His old partner…“Bilson?” She headed back to the desk after all, and found a note she’d tossed there earlier. “This arrived shortly after you left this afternoon. Then you distracted me with your dancing, and I forgot. It’s from Miles Bilson.”

Archimedes’ dark brows drew together as he read the note. “He’s requested a meeting. He thinks I can help him.”

No doubt Archimedes
could.
But Bilson had probably asked because Archimedes was the sort of man who
would.
“What kind of help?”

“It doesn’t say.”

And he wasn’t expressing much interest in finding out. “You don’t seem that eager to meet your friend.”

He glanced up. “I enjoy his company quite a bit. But I know him well; he always has some sort of game in play. Perhaps not
this time, but I’d be a fool not to wonder if I’m part of a greater plot.”

And he wasn’t a fool. “Why was Zenobia upset by him?”

“She had tender feelings for him—I hadn’t even realized. But she’s also certain that he’s here for money, and that he felt cheated when I sank those war machines.”

Yasmeen’s protective instincts sharpened. “Do
you
think he felt cheated?”

He shook his head, studying the note again as if to discern Bilson’s intentions from the slant of the letters, the darkness of the ink. “I can’t say. I don’t think so. But it’s been years.”

A seed of resentment could have grown enormous in that time. “And you’re famously rich now.”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel you owe him for the botched job with the war machines?”

“No.” He glanced up from the note with a wry grin. “But if he asked, I’d probably give the money to him.”

That was the lovely thing about possessing a ridiculous fortune—they could give away small fortunes, and hardly notice the difference. “And if it’s not money that he’s after?”

Yasmeen would deal with Bilson herself, if Archimedes asked her to. She knew he wouldn’t, however, and left the decision open to him.

“I’ll go out and meet with him tonight,” he said. “Then at least I’ll know what he wants.”

“Invite him aboard for dinner, instead,” Yasmeen suggested. “And introduce your old friend to your new wife.”

She met Archimedes’ sharp look with a smile that had terrified other men. He only chuckled, shaking his head—not refusing, but considering. She watched him struggle against his hope that Bilson’s request would be nothing, and his worry that if it wasn’t, Yasmeen might be caught in between.

Just as protective of her as she was of him. Yasmeen softened her smile, stepped close. When he met her eyes, she said quietly, “Why did you dance on those docks today?
Lady Corsair
wasn’t yours, her crew wasn’t yours—you didn’t love them as I did. Yet you helped me today, when everything else I saw reminded me of how much it hurt to lose them. And your
dealings with Bilson aren’t my business, I know—but if he’s here to take some sort of revenge on you, to hurt you…then let me stand behind you and help you in return.”

His throat worked. He lowered his head, dipping his mouth close to hers. His voice was rough as he said, “You have my heart, Mrs. Fox.”

“Good. After you stole mine, I’m in need of one.”

He smiled against her lips. “Bilson’s request will likely be nothing.”

“Does he have a brain in his head?”

“Yes.”

“Then it will be nothing,” she said, and reassured him with a kiss.

Only an idiot would believe he stood a chance in hell against this.

Thankfully, Miles Bilson didn’t seem like an idiot
, though it was difficult to be certain after only a few hours’ acquaintance. He proved to be an affable, charming bastard, and—as Archimedes had said—good company, but Yasmeen might have enjoyed his company more if she hadn’t read Zenobia’s letters before he’d arrived to dinner. Though she’d known that Archimedes and Bilson had parted ways to better avoid Temür Agha’s assassins, she hadn’t realized that Bilson had abandoned Archimedes while he still suffered from a poisoning.

No matter how amiable Bilson was, the knowledge guaranteed that Yasmeen would never trust him.

Despite her reservations, however, Bilson’s jovial greeting to Archimedes seemed genuine, and his interest keen as Archimedes introduced Yasmeen. She welcomed him aboard and saw that Archimedes’ friend was made to feel at ease in her cabin, which he did quite readily, sinking into the cushions surrounding the low table. As the cabin girls brought in the first course, Bilson launched into conversation with Archimedes, filling in the years that had separated them, and allowing Yasmeen time to sip her wine and observe him.

On the surface, he was much like Archimedes—or perhaps like a brother to Archimedes—sharing many of the same interests, but not so similar that they bored each other. Physically, he held himself in the relaxed manner that Archimedes did. His features were undeniably handsome, though more roughly hewn, and he was barrel-chested where Archimedes was lean. He wore the full beard that the Europeans on the northern American continent favored, and his brown hair was neatly trimmed, his jacket and trousers smartly tailored.