A Pirate's Possession Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Praise for Romancing the Pirate

  “Beattie’s passion for the sea sparkles on every page, as does her love of adventure and of crafting a sensual love story between two headstrong characters.”

  —Romantic Times

  “A fast-paced historical romance that brings to life the seventeenth-century Caribbean Islands . . . An enjoyable and exciting tale.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “A delightful romp across the Caribbean. If you like pirates, this is sure to please you.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  Praise for

  What a Pirate Desires

  “A feisty heroine, a tortured hero, and a sassy parrot along with strong doses of betrayal, action, and plenty of cunning . . . [A] fun romance.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “This nonstop pirate romance has it all: high-seas adventure, a daring quest, a courageous heroine, and best of all, a to-die-for pirate hero. Beattie has penned a fine romantic tale of two unforgettable characters. I’ll be watching for more from this author!”

  —Jennifer Ashley, USA Today bestselling author of Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage

  “Beattie uses rapid-fire repartee, double entendres, and a daring heroine and dashing hero to spice up a tried-and-true plot-line, turning this into a nonstop read.”

  —Romantic Times

  “This terrific seventeenth-century high-seas pirate romance works because Samantha comes across as an avenging . . . pirate captain. Verbal battles . . . sharper than swordplay. Fans will enjoy this fine at-sea cat-and-mouse tale.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Berkley Sensation Titles by Michelle Beattie

  WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES

  ROMANCING THE PIRATE

  A PIRATE’S POSSESSION

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  A PIRATE’S POSSESSION

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / December 2010

  Copyright © 2010 by Michelle Beattie.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-44553-2

  BERKLEY® SENSATION

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To my daughters, Natalia and Taryn. I love you! You are, by far, the best treasures in the world!

  One

  Nevis, the Caribbean

  1660

  Claire Gentry pushed open the heavy door and made her way across the crowded tavern, through teetering drunks—though it was barely sunset—and down to the table that held her destiny. Without more than a nod to the three other men that sat around the table, Claire took her seat.

  “You sure you’re in the right place, boy? This here’s a bettin’ table and the stakes are high. Bigger men than you have wanted in and were tossed out.”

  Keeping her gaze cool, Claire dug into her jacket pocket and dropped two fistfuls of coins onto the scratched surface.

  “I’m in,” she answered, keeping her voice low. Not many people looked past her dirty clothes and face, and she’d learned over the years that people mostly saw what they expected. And since they didn’t expect a young woman to be bold enough to walk into such an establishment dressed as a downtrodden sailor, they didn’t see one. It was what had kept her alive for the last few years.

  She’d run from her duplicitous marriage, and the lying bastard who had tricked her into it, determined never to count on anybody again. Her future, her life, was her own, and by God, nobody was going to let her down ever again. However, looking at the shiny coins and knowing how hard they had been to come by, how long it had taken her to save them, she could only hope that she wasn’t about to let herself down.

  She’d been looking long and hard for the missing half of the map, and when word had gotten round that it would be here today, she’d taken everything she had. It all sat before her now.

  The man to her right whistled between his teeth. “Looks like he’s in the right place,” he said.

  “Where’s the map?” she asked, keeping her coins close. She wasn’t pushing them into the middle until she saw what she’d come for.

  “You think you’re man enough to find this treasure, boy?”

  “It’s not muscle that’s needed to find the treasure, it’s brains. And I have more than enough of those.”

  The men who’d circled the table, curious to see who’d bet on part of a treasure map, guffawed at Claire’s taunt. Though the man across from her chuckled and his grin ate up a portion of his large square face, there was little humor in his gray eyes. When his gaze, as sharp as the knife she had tucked away in her boot, locked on to hers, she felt a snap of cold against her cheeks.

  “Spoken as though you already know what’s on that map.” He leaned forward and his sticky breath floated over the table’s surface and slid up Claire’s nose. “How would that be, given that the map is at least five times older than you are?”

  Claire knew she had to be careful. He was right. She had half the map memorized in her head, thanks to her father, but it would be more than foolish of her to let anybody know that. It would likely cost her her life.

  She shrugged. “Hearsay, is all.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he leaned back in his chair. Claire slowly released her breath.

  “Hearsay will get you killed,” came a rumble from her left.

  She looked past the last chair, the one that had yet to be occupied, to the man who’d spoken. She watched as he pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, spread it out before him. Claire’s stomach turned inside out.

  “But the map is real, and if you want to play for it, you have to pay for it,” he said with a gravelly voice that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in a long time.

  Claire eyed him curiously. His hair and beard were black, his eyes a deep blue. It was a striking combination, one made all the stronger by the emptiness she saw in his eyes.

  “Why haven’t you found it?” one of the onlookers countered.

  The man raised his gaze. “I lost more looking for that treasure than I ever would have gained by finding it. It means nothing to me now.”

  The pain in his voice drew Claire, and though her heart went out to him, she didn’t move. Nothing would give away her gender faster than such a womanly gesture. But then again, maybe not. She looked over at the women in low-cut dresses, their breasts straining against their corsets, and mentally sighed. There was a reason she could get away with posing as a boy and it had nothing to do with hiding her curves. There simply wasn’t enough there to worry about concealing.

  “He’s got no
problem taking your money for it, though,” someone called.

  The man with the map silenced everyone with a cut of his icy glare.

  “Well, I’ll take my chances,” Claire said and pushed her coins to the middle.

  “As will I.”

  Though the room was filled with loud conversations and bad singing, Claire’s ears heard only that one sentence. She hadn’t seen Nate Carter in eight years, not since he went back on his word, but she recognized the voice even before her eyes rolled up his tall body and latched on to the face she’d dreamed about more often than the lying bastard deserved.

  Her stomach dove to her toes. Nate was here. He was here and so was the map she’d told him about when she’d still been foolish enough to believe that a man’s word meant something. Betrayal burned a hole to her belly. He’d come for the treasure, the treasure they’d talked about together. The treasure he’d promised her they’d find together. Only he’d never come back for her. It was only one of the lies he’d led her to believe.

  From under the brim of her hat, a hat she tugged a little lower, Claire willed herself to remain still, a difficult task with her heart racing and her hands wanting nothing more than to slap Nate’s lying face, despite how handsome it was. She wasn’t concerned about being recognized, not with her hair cut short and the auburn color hidden under the wide hat. Not when he’d likely forgotten about her once he’d stepped out of the orphanage doors. Stepped out and never looked back.

  And damn him for looking better now than he had then. Nate’s shoulders, which had already been substantial at sixteen, were even broader now. His dark brown hair was much the same and still had a few loose strands that fell over his forehead. Skin bronzed by the sun and further darkened by a shadow of beard covered his chiseled jaw.

  Nate reached inside his jacket, put a black leather pouch bulging with jingling coins onto the table before taking the empty seat.

  The man to her left picked up all the coins, dropped them into a small sack. He slid the map into the middle of the table.

  “Best hand wins,” he said. The cards snapped as he shuffled.

  “My name’s Sid,” said the man to her right. “Just thought I’d tell you now who it’ll be winning the map.”

  The man across from her shook his head. “That’ll be me, James.”

  “What’s the matter, boy, don’t have a name?” Sid asked.

  “Clarence,” Claire said, using her father’s name, as she usually did if anyone bothered to ask. She held her breath, but Nate wasn’t paying her any more mind than he was the other players, less in fact since he didn’t bother to do more than nod that he’d heard. His eyes barely touched on her, certainly not long enough to see past the shadow of her hat and the dirt on her face. Did he not think her capable of coming on her own? Did he believe she’d given up on ever finding it, or had he long since forgotten she even existed? Her eyes narrowed. None of those possibilities sat well with Claire.

  Although she really should be relieved that he wasn’t looking too closely.

  “And you?” Sid asked.

  “Nate.”

  There was a long pause as everyone turned to the man who was shuffling.

  “Cale,” he answered grudgingly, dealing each of them five cards.

  With the cards now in play, more spectators circled the table. Unfortunately with them came the combined smells of men who stank of rum and stale tobacco, and who’d gone far too long between visits to the bathhouse.

  Claire looked at her cards one by one. A ten, an ace. Her heart pumped, another ten. The last two cards were useless, a six and a five. Still she had a pair and she had to hope it was good enough.

  “You’re first,” Cale said to Sid.

  “Why me?” the grown man said. Though he had to be at least fifty, if the field of gray hair on his head was any indication, it didn’t stop him from whining.

  “Because you were here first.”

  Sid sighed, turned over his cards.

  “Ace high.”

  Claire exhaled slowly then looked at James.

  “Pair of eights, king high,” the man said, his eyes sliding from Claire to Nate as he tried to gauge their reactions.

  Claire swallowed hard. She was one step away. Hunger for the map gnawed along her nerves. She needed this. Her life was consumed with finding this treasure and she was tired, so very tired, of coming up short. If she lost . . .

  She took a deep breath. She wouldn’t; life wouldn’t be that cruel.

  “Pair of tens,” she said, flipping over her cards. “Ace high.”

  James inhaled sharply.

  All eyes turned to Nate. Claire’s palms were damp and her feet tapped under the table. Please, please, let him have less than her pair.

  For the first time since Nate had arrived at the table, he smiled. And as his teeth flashed against his golden skin, Claire felt her world begin to shatter.

  “Three threes,” Nate said. He laid them out one at a time but all Claire saw was a blur of suits.

  She’d lost. Just like that. Feeling sick, she rose unsteadily.

  “You all right, boy?” Nate asked.

  Claire couldn’t look at him, not at him or anyone else. She had nothing. Nothing! The paper on the table was so close and her body shook with a need to take it. Take it and run. Her hands curled at her sides, but she didn’t move them. She’d never get out of the tavern with it; Nate would catch her before she made it to the door.

  Nate. The bastard didn’t deserve it! She bit her lip when tears stung her eyes. With a last look at the paper that would have made every difference in the world to her, she pushed her way through the crowd.

  “Hey, boy,” Sid called. Claire could hear him work his way toward her.

  She increased her pace. She needed to get out now. The last thing she wanted when her world was falling apart, when her plans and dreams were turning to dust, was to talk. Despite her hurry, however, he managed to grab her arm before she made it to the door.

  “Hey, what’s your hurry?”

  “What do you want?” Claire asked, pulling her arm free.

  “Easy,” he said, raising his hands. “You just look so down I thought maybe a wench would help you forget your worries.”

  “I don’t have any money,” she mumbled, keeping to her ruse.

  “Well, there’s one just outside that’s so besotted she won’t know if you stick it in ’er.” He smiled. “At least she didn’t when I was back there.”

  Claire’s stomach roiled.

  “When I want a tumble, I’ll find a partner that’s willing. I won’t need to prey on anybody that’s so drunk they don’t know any better. I’m not that despicable.”

  Sid went red, and just as Claire figured out his intention, it was too late. His fist connected with her cheek. Fiery pain rippled across her face and sent her careening backward. She crashed into a table. Her hands scrambled for purchase. Warm liquid sloshed over her fingers and trickled down her face. She lost her balance and tipped sideways, taking the table down with her. It knocked her on the head and sent her hat rolling.

  “Get the hell away from him,” Nate roared through the ringing in her ears. She looked up, saw Nate give Sid a hard shove. “Step back or you’ll know what it is to be hit by a man who more than doubles your size.”

  Sid muttered a curse then wove back into the crowd, shoving past James, who’d also come to see what was happening.

  Nate turned his attention back to her.

  Oh hell, she thought. Clambering to her hands and knees, sliding on the wet floor, Claire reached for her hat.

  She was too late.

  Nate’s strong hand reached it first. She’d be lucky to get out now without being recognized and she didn’t want him to know who she was. She’d envisioned seeing him again, after she was wealthy and had found the treasure. After she was dressed in the prettiest fashions and could show him what he’d turned his back on. She hadn’t ever imagined it would be like this, when she had nothing. Feeling as though the walls were closing in on her, heart pounding in her veins, Claire sprang to her feet. With her eye on her escape, she yanked her hat from Nate’s grasp and ran for the door.