Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(6)

Risk scowled. “Aye, Cap’n. If that’s what yer gut tells ye—”

“It is.”

“Ye got the ship stocked heavy with supplies,” Risk said reflectively. “P’raps we’re finally settin’ out to the middle passage?”

An ominous glint entered Griffin’s dark blue eyes. “I don’t run slaves, Jack.”

“Aye, but the money to be made—”

“We make enough doing things my way.”

Risk shrugged cheerfully. “Can’t argue with that, Cap’n. But the divvil knows Dominic Legare makes no scruple of it.” He lifted the rum bottle to his lips, drank deeply, and shook his head. “Six prizes,” he muttered. “Just look at that André Legare, fat bastard, with his bloody big grin, knowin’ his brother Nicky’s going to cut him a nice big slice of the spoils. For doing nothin’ except anchoring his arse in a tavern while the rest of us—”

“Enough, Jack,” Griffin said coolly, and Risk quieted.

Griffin looked in the direction Risk had pointed. André Legare was indeed wearing a grin. As usual, he was surrounded by platters of food and bottles of wine, his large belly overflowing onto his lap. His perspiring face was half-covered by a reddish beard clotted with scraps of meat and grease.

The differences between the Legare brothers were striking. Dominic was a cold, efficient shark, seeming to take pleasure in nothing except hunting and providing for his younger brother. A peculiarly self-contained man, he had never been seen with either women or boys, never drank, never acknowledged pain or required anything for his own comfort. He was excruciatingly meticulous in his dress and appearance. André, on the other hand, was a buffoon, a rotund, slovenly man with a bottomless appetite for food, drink, and women—in precisely that order.

“Dominic’s brought a new woman for André,” Risk commented. “Heard the commotion when they took her off the Vulture—she’s got a scream that’ll make yer ears wither up and drop off. Poor wench. Do ye know what happened to the last one Dominic gave him? She was all—”

“Yes,” Griffin said shortly, finding the subject distasteful. Unfortunately, he’d once happened to see one of André Legare’s victims as the body was being deposited on the shore. The girl had been tortured and mutilated by André’s vicious sexual games. Those who knew of the younger Legare’s treatment of women were repelled, but no one interfered. On Isle au Corneille a man’s business was his own, unless it happened to interfere with yours.

Risk lightly jostled the prostitute on his lap. “Tell me now, darlin’, why is it I never see André Legare with his paws on ye and yer erring sisters?”

“Dominic won’t let ’im,” she replied with a saucy pout. “We makes a good profit for the Legares.”

Risk pretended dismay. “Then…in a roundabout way I’ve added to their pockets? And them already flush with money?” He pushed her off his knee, nearly causing her to land on the floor. “Shove off, darlin’…I’ve lost me yen for love tonight.” As the whore scowled, he grinned and flipped her a gold piece. “An’ do say somethin’ nice about me to the other sisters. I’ll be back again.”

Catching the coin expertly, she slanted a smile at him and strolled away with swaying hips.

Griffin had retreated into the shadowy corner, paying little attention to Risk’s antics. His attention was focused on Dominic Legare and his entourage, who had just entered the tavern and gathered at the opposite corner of the room. Bottles were passed around, brandy and rum splashing over the tables and floor. Carousing and singing drunkenly, they crowded around André while Dominic watched. A presentation was about to take place. When the last notes of the ribald sea chantey died away, Dominic snapped his fingers and gestured to someone behind him.

A roar of approval set the walls to trembling as a woman was dragged out of concealment and thrust in front of André. She was clad in a tattered, bloodstained gown, her legs and feet bare, her arms bound behind her. She should have been in hysterics, but she was silent and outwardly calm. Her gaze flickered around the room. Griffin realized with a touch of unwilling admiration that she was trying to assess her chances of escape.

“Lovely,” Risk muttered. “A choice bit of goods, aye?”

Griffin agreed silently. She was obviously a woman of quality, with fair skin and delicate features. Her tangled blond hair glittered in the torchlight, pale and silvery and rare. He could not look away from her, could only stare while an unreasonable tide of wanting swept over him. She was too thin, breakably fragile. His taste was for robust women who would not be intimidated by a man his size. But he could not repress the thought of what it would be like to fit himself between her slender legs and crush her sweet mouth under his. The image caused a hot stirring in his loins.

Griffin folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall, deciding that this was the first foolish move he had ever seen Dominic Legare make. Such a woman shouldn’t be wasted on André.

“Why the hell are we nivver findin’ women like that on our prize ships?” Risk wondered aloud.

After squealing in delight and wiping his greasy face on his sleeve, André caught the woman’s slim h*ps and jerked her down to his lap. “By God, Dominic, this is the best one yet!” His pudgy hands roamed over her. “So sweet, so soft…I’ll make her scream for me tonight!”