Hook's Pan (11 page)

He laughed. “I am a man. What would you expect me to be?”

“Disgusting,” she said, not able to hide the smirk tugging at her mouth.

Slamming his hand on the desk, he stood. “I want to show you something. Come with me.”

“Is that an order, Captain Hook?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“You are really dirty, you know that? Is your mind always in the gutter?”

“Is yours?” he countered, the ghost of a smile still hovering on his face. “I simply meant that if you’d like to be ordered about, I’m certainly prepared to do it.”

“Oh God,” she stood, “you are really rotten, you know that?”

“So they say.”

When he didn’t seem to want to move, she spread her arms wide. “Well?”

His hot gaze rolled up and down her body, slowly, causing her to feel like someone had just doused her body in gasoline and taken a torch to it. “You will not go topside dressed in that.”

Frowning down at her frock, she patted the brown belt and buckle into place. “What’s wrong with it? I heard it’s all the rage in Neverland these days.”

“I’ve a band of pirates aboard this vessel, if you dress as a whore they will treat you as one. I should hate to have to fight for the sake of your honor. Now dress.” He pointed to the large wooden chest beside his bed.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she jerked her thumb over her shoulders. “You have dresses in there? So you’re one of those kind of guys, huh?” She eyed his thick, impressively stacked muscles and grinned sweetly.

But he didn’t rise to the bait; instead he walked to the chest, flipped open the lid and pointed. “Ask.”

Her brows gathered. “It’s empty. Ask what? Who? Is there another one of those demon bugs in there, a fairy ready to grant my every wish?”

Smirking, he ran his hand through his hair. “Demon bug. I do like that. The chest belonged to the King of the Air. Trapped inside is the soul of a genie.”

Bending over, she peered into the open space, smelling nothing other than the cedar planks inside. “You’re lying. You’re just teasing me.”
 

He lifted one shoulder, picking at the tip of his hook. “Hmm.”

She licked her lips. “You know that’s not really an answer. And anyway, I thought genies could only grant three wishes.”

“It’s a cursed chest, the genie can deny the wisher nothing. Endless treasure.”

“And it’s inside your cabin, maybe it’s not a lie. Seems like the kind of thing a dastardly pirate would want to keep close to him.”

Eyes sparkling, he tipped his head. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it was an elaborate lie to force you to bend over so I could sneak a look at your red drawers again.”

Biting her lip, she tugged the frock down, only now realizing she’d completely exposed herself to him. “You jerk.”

He laughed. “Be that as it may, you will not leave this room unless you change. So what will it be, little bird? Trust or no?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she growled, more because if she didn’t, she’d laugh. The man was obnoxiously hot and funny, who knew the villainous Hook had it in him?

“Because you’ve the skinny little legs of a bird and you fell in front of me like a chick from a nest. I’ll admit, I’ve another reason for asking you to change. I despise your clothing. In fact, I fight the urge to rip it from you.”

At first she almost grinned, until she noticed the sparkle in his eyes was gone. One part of his story did seem to be true, Hook hated Pan as much as the book portrayed.

Not sure what to say to that, she turned back to the trunk. “Oh glorious, magnificent, invisible genie, give me a dress. Something sexy, but not too sexy since I don’t want the pervs upstairs to think I look like a slut. Thanks.”

Again he laughed, and her lips trembled. She wasn’t used to cracking so many jokes, but he seemed to find her funny, which was odd. Normally she just annoyed the hell out of people.

A bright light flashed and then a large swath of red cloth overflowed from the top. “Red. Hmm, I didn’t ask for red.” She eyed Hook. “I think you rigged this thing.”

“Bloody hell, woman, get dressed and hurry. I wish to show you something before I no longer can.”

Grabbing the pile, she hugged it to her chest. “You planning to watch?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he dropped his hand to his leg and ran his hook along the bedspread. “My room. My rules.”

“You are a bastard,” she growled, but there was no heat behind it. A part of her wanted him to see, wanted to see what he thought when he looked.

Dropping the dress to the ground, she tugged her tunic over her head. Hair flung into her eyes and it took a second for her to brush it away from her face. When she did she found him staring. The heat in his gaze snapped through her like wild fire. He sat absolutely still, barely even breathing as his hungry eyes took her in.

She worked hard to keep a healthy body, ate right, worked out six times a week. It was nice to see appreciation for her efforts.

Cocking her hip out, she planted a hand on her waist. “Like what you see?”

“I like the black lace on your red bra. I wonder, Trishelle, if deep down you knew you were coming to me?”

She’d always hated her full name. Hated how long and old fashioned it sounded, but hearing it fall from his lips, with his deep burr…it’d never sounded sexier. “You wish, Romeo. Red just so happens to look killer on me, even if it’s not
my
favorite color.”

“Dress, or we’ll not be leaving this room any time soon.” His voice was thick and rough and she was so tempted to tell him to hell with wherever he wanted to take her. She had an itch that he needed to scratch. Just because she was stuck here didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy her stay, it didn’t have to be all bad.

But she didn’t, because contrary to popular myth, she really wasn’t easy, even when she wanted to be.

Grabbing the dress, she stepped into it. The fabric was soft as satin and draped across her body like water, moving in flattering ways as she posed. Deciding it was time to beat him at his own game, she turned and slid her hair over her shoulder.

“Zip me up? Or are you too chicken?”

The cool air prickled on her skin, making it shiver and race with hundreds of goose bumps as she waited. She waited so long she thought maybe he’d called her bluff, and just as she was about to laugh at herself, a warm hand and a cool piece of steel slid up her back.

“You should never taunt a tiger.” His scent of salt and man wrapped around her nose, made her body tremble as he leaned in, nose scraping the tip of her ear.

“Why is that?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

She could feel his smile brush the back of her head. “Because it bites.”

Then he was zipping her up and when he finished, he didn’t pull away as she’d expected, but instead allowed the curve of cold steel to hook around her neck, forcing her to tilt her head back. His lips moved against her hair.

“I’ve decided.” He paused and her lashes fluttered as she lifted high on the tips of her feet, causing her cheek to brush against his whisker roughened one.

“What have you decided?”

Who knew a hook could be so sexy? But the way he ran it against her soft flesh, the play of sharp tip with the gentle glide, it made her want to slam him onto the bed and be as easy as she’d always been accused of being.

“That I will have you.” Blunt teeth nipped the lobe of her ear and she couldn’t help it, she moaned.

It was a sound full of want and need and heat and she wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed because while she’d always enjoyed sex, she’d never had such good foreplay, and they’d not even gotten to second base yet.

Head swimming with lusty thoughts, she smirked.

“You are very confident. But I don’t think you will, because you see I’m cursed.”

Growling, he twirled her around. “I’m not talking of Talia or past lives, I could give a flying—”

Placing her finger over his lips, she cut him off and shook her head. “And neither was I. I don’t care who says what, I’m not her, never claimed to be. They obviously grabbed the wrong girl, but there is another curse you should worry about.”

Heat burned like a glowing brand in his devilish eyes.

Wanting to touch him, refusing to overthink it, she framed his face and leaned in as close as possible without actually pressing her lips to his. “Because,” she whispered, “I’m addictive, and when it’s all over, you’ll fall in love with me.”

“I will never love again. And besides, if anyone falls in love, it’ll be you.”

“We’ll see.” She stepped back, drawing a deep breath before saying, “And don’t hold your breath, because that’s the other part of my curse. I have never loved a man, and never will.”

Trishelle walked up the steps, headed toward the upper deck. The dress was a vision on her. It draped over her body, leaving nothing to imagination. And yet, it didn’t make her look like a whore, there was barely even a cleavage line on the thing. But his breeches had grown tight all the same. And though she was dressed as a lady would, he knew his men would drool all over themselves at the sight of her.

With her long, gold spun hair and curvaceous figure, she looked a seductress no matter what she wore. For the next three days she was his and though he was captain of this ship, there were always those who’d seek to dethrone him. A pirate loved treasure and she was one worth hoarding. Stepping up, she paused before turning to look back at him. “Are you looking at my butt?”

“If by looking at your butt you imply am I looking at your arse, then yes, I am.”

There was something about the woman that loosened his tongue. With his whores he never verbally sparred, they were there for one reason, to ease his aches. But he could not deny he enjoyed the woman’s tongue. Wanted to enjoy it in other ways too.

Instead of being outraged, she patted her bum, winked and said, “Well looking is all you’ll ever get, Hook, so enjoy it while you can.”

He wasn’t known for having much of a sense of humor, in fact, it was rare for his men to see him wearing anything other than a scowl. But when he returned topside, he couldn’t stop the grin from splitting his face.

As they walked toward the rail, the men manning the sails went absolutely still, staring agog at not only the woman, but at him.

“She belongs to me,” he growled, eyeing each one with the stare that’d made him legendary—cold and calculating and absolutely ruthless. Playing with the curve of his hook, he lifted his chin. “Return to your positions or I shall be gouging out eyes later, up to you.”

Scattering like a school of fish, they all turned around to resume their tasks.

When the last set of eyes had turned away he was finally able to turn back to her. Only to see Trishelle tapping her foot, small fists bunched on her hips and wearing a fierce scowl of her own. “Belong to you?” she snapped. “I don’t think I need to tell you how infuriated I am right now.”

Standing as she was, with her hair dancing around her head, she reminded him of Medusa in that instance—bold and frightening and sexy as hell.

“Come.” He held out his hand. Her jaw set and his grin widened. “I could sit here and apologize for saying what I did, but I wouldn’t mean it. Or, you can stop acting so offended and come with me before you miss the surprise.”

“Gah, you’re impossible. How can I even fight with you when you sound so frustratingly rational?”

He lifted his brows, not speaking as he continued to hold his hand out to her. Blowing out a long breath, she slipped hers into his. “Fine,” she said grudgingly. “What’s so special?”

Maybe nothing. He’d seen it a million times in a million different ways, but for some reason he suspected she’d enjoy the peculiarities of his form of travel. “Have you done anything other than get mad at me?”

“What?” Her fingers twitched in his palms and his grip tightened.

“Look around you, Trishelle.”