"Lock! Oh, by the G.o.ddess!" she cried as an o.r.g.a.s.m washed over her.

"I'm here, girl!"

"Oh!" she moaned, another climax building deep inside her.

This time when she came, she heard Lock's ragged breath as his thrusts came faster and harder.

He panted, his voice jerky with l.u.s.t, "That...old...b.i.t.c.h better not...hit me with...a broom again!"

With a growl of pleasure he came, his body surging into hers.

His cheek dropped to her back, his beard rough against her flesh as they sat, limp and panting until he finally moved. Tugging her against his chest, he kissed her hair.

"I suppose we should go back to the house," Sparrow murmured.

Lock grunted in reply and gathered their clothes.

Sparrow loved Shea-Ann, but she had to admit feeling a little disappointed that she and Lock no longer had the entire farm to themselves.

Sparrow stirred and snuggled closer to Lock. She opened her eyes and saw that it was dark, probably close to midnight.

Part of her was still disappointed that he hadn't admitted feeling any love for her. He'd said he wasn't capable of love, but Sparrow didn't believe it. He just had little experience caring for someone. His past had convinced him he couldn't feel affection, but the future with her promised a new way of life for him-and her.

Lock turned in his sleep, his arm tightening around her, his head buried in her shoulder. No man who touched her like he did was incapable of love.

Sparrow sat astride Sea Storm, Lock behind her, holding the reins. Every now and then, she'd feel his arms tighten around her, and she glanced back at him and smiled. Beside them, Shea-Ann's horse plodded. The healer kept glancing at Sparrow and the pirate as if she still couldn't believe they were a pair.

The village gathering happened every autumn, and Sparrow looked forward to it. The market was open all day and there was music, dancing, games, feasts, and horse races.

"This will be a good day to haggle for new cloth," Shea-Ann said. "I want to make some dresses for us, seeing how your only good one was ruined."

Sparrow glanced at Lock and he shrugged. Neither of them had mentioned how the dress had been ruined. It was one of their secrets.

The sound of flutes, laughter, and conversation grew louder as they neared the village square and dismounted. For a fee, the blacksmith would board horses for the day, so Shea-Ann and Sparrow paid for their mounts, then headed for the village.

"I'm going shopping," Shea-Ann said, "then I have rounds to make. I'll meet you later."

"Good riddance," Lock muttered under his breath, and Sparrow poked him with her elbow.

"SothSea swine," Shea-Ann said.

"Shriveled witch."

"Murdering yak!"

"Buzzard!"

"That's enough!" Sparrow snapped. "Both of you! You're acting worse than children! Shea-Ann, go about your business, and Lock, close your mouth!"

Flinging one last goading look at the pirate, Shea-Ann disappeared in the crowded marketplace.

"It's a wonder you're as sweet as you are seeing how she raised you," Lock said to Sparrow.

"You think I'm sweet?"

His teeth gleamed against his beard as he smiled and continued walking. Sparrow fell into step beside him, and they chatted about the farm when a voice interrupted them.

"So you've given him the liberty to walk alongside you?" the fisherwoman called from her cart.

"How I treat my slave is my business," Sparrow told her. "Got any squid?"

The woman winked and beckoned her closer. "The best you'll taste in these parts."

Sparrow and Lock approached the cart and selected several pieces of squid. They brought the slippery meat across to one of the community fires in the square to cook it.

"My favorite breakfast," Lock said, taking a bite of a dangling squid leg.

"I know." Sparrow wrinkled her nose. "It's really not the first thing I'd reach for in the morning, but I thought I'd indulge you this once."

"This once? Seems you've been doing that for weeks."

"What's a little squid for all you've done for the farm? It's never looked so good. All the repairs are made, and we're stocked for the winter. At least we'll be leaving Shea-Ann prepared."

"You don't want to leave, do you?"

Sparrow looked down at her hands. "I'll miss it here, but I know you can't stay."

"Won't stay," he murmured. "For what you've done for me, I should stay to make you happy, but I won't lie to you, Sparrow. It would last for a while, but I cannot live as a slave."

"You'd end up resenting me. I know that."

"And if we go, will you end up resenting me? Be honest."

She sighed. "Maybe a little, but I've had to uproot before. I'm sure wherever we settle, I'll be happy, as long as I'm with you. Besides, if we do have children, I wouldn't want them to see you as my slave. It wouldn't be right."

"I've been thinking about where we can go when we leave here. We could go further south. Once we're out of Begonia and I'm free, we could settle on the coast. I'll work as a fisherman."

"A fisherman?"

"I need to be at sea, Sparrow. I miss it."

If she looked hard enough, she could almost see the ocean in his blue eyes. The sea was part of him, and wherever they went, he needed it, just as she needed him.

"Will you be happy as a fisherman?"

"It'll be better than not being at sea. Once I earn enough, I can build a bigger ship and take up trading. Honest trade, this time."

"You're serious about this?"

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

She stared at him. The life he described sounded so good to her, but what would it be like for him? He was so wild, so pa.s.sionate about everything. How happy could he be living as a fisherman, waiting for the chance to sail again? She wanted him to discard his criminal ways, but she didn't want to kill his spirit.

"What's going on there?" He nodded toward a gathering of women, men, and horses.

"It's just a race. Exciting to watch. I always wanted to enter, but my horses aren't fast enough."

"Even Sea Storm?"

She laughed. "He'd probably win."

Lock stood and squinted at the horses lined up facing the field outside of the village. "No doubt he would win, but not with me riding. I'm too big."

"You couldn't ride him, anyway, Lock. It's for women only."

"What are all those men doing there?"

"They're slaves. They belong to the women entering the race. The winner gets to bed the one of her choice. She also collects prizes donated by the vendors."

Lock noticed the ensemble of men, most tall, young, and muscular, all wearing arm bands like his.

"Enter," Lock said.

"What?"

"You said you always wanted to race. Get Sea Storm and enter."

"That would mean I have to put you up as a prize along with the others. Never."

"Even if you lose-which you won't-it's nothing I haven't done before."

"It's a risk I'm not willing to take."

The idea of any other woman sleeping with Lock made Sparrow burn with rage.

Together, they joined the crowd waiting for the race to begin. Sparrow stared at the women mounted on tall, sleek horses, and her heart pounded. She'd always loved riding, and when she'd lived in the palace, had owned many fine, fast horses. Though she often rode Sea Storm at the farm, the thought of racing across the field and jumping fences while the rest of the village watched made her tingle. It had been so long...

"We have one more entry!" Shea-Ann shouted, and Sparrow's eyes widened as the nanny strode up to the contestants, Lock behind her leading Sea Storm.

The blacksmith laughed and patted the neck of her big-boned black stallion. "You plan on riding, old woman? I thought you were a healer."

"That doesn't mean I'm a bad rider!" Shea-Ann approached Sea-Storm and attempted to mount the towering stallion.

Sparrow cursed softly. Was Shea-Ann losing her mind? The woman could just about ride her gentle, chubby mare.

"Shea-Ann, what are you doing?" Sparrow demanded, shoving her way through the crowd.

"You wouldn't ride," Lock said. "Shea-Ann was more than willing to put me up as a prize."

Sparrow glared at her old nanny who shrugged. "Would you prefer to ride?"

"I'm not entering."

A voice shouted, "Ready...Set...Off!"

"You see, it's too late..." Sparrow's sentence was cut off by her shriek of surprise as Lock tossed her onto Sea-Storm's back and slapped the stallion's rump hard.

Lock watched as the white stallion bolted, galloping after the flanks of the other horses.

"Are you mad!" Shea-Ann whacked Lock on the arm. "You could have gotten her killed!"

Lock smiled. "Sparrow will love it! Look at them. They've almost caught the others."

Shea-Ann's face was tense with fury. "I almost hope she loses and you have to bed someone like the blacksmith!"

Lock's smile faded as he squinted at the muscular blacksmith and her stallion several lengths ahead of the others. If she did win, Lock hoped she'd been insulted enough by his comments weeks ago to never pick him. Knowing the big, blond b.i.t.c.h, she'd choose him for spite.

Win, Sparrow, he thought to himself. Don't mess this up, d.a.m.n it!

Lock clenched his fists, his heart throbbing madly as Sea Storm and Sparrow leapt ahead of the others, the white's nose at the black's hindquarters.

The blacksmith began beating her horse with a switch, and the animal leapt. Sparrow never touched Sea Storm but her body moved with his in an attempt to make the run as easy as possible for him. She was small and light in spite of her muscular build, much less burden than the thickly built blacksmith. Lock had trained Sea Storm well without breaking his spirit, and the stallion's compet.i.tive nature surged with his speeding legs. Again he inched up on the black. Nose to nose they sailed over a fence in the center of the field.

Lock was aware of the crowd shouting and cheering around him, but his main focus was on the race. That night, he'd either be returning home with the Sparrow or s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the d.a.m.n blacksmith. He'd have to close his eyes and think of Sparrow to even attempt entering that beast-woman's body. He thought of how she smelled like horses and five-month old sweat. She was too much like the gnarled pirates who pawed him as a boy.

The black and white stallions were still neck-to-neck as they reached the homestretch. The others were several lengths behind them with no hope of catching the leaders. Suddenly Sea-Storm bounded ahead of the slowing black. Lock saw Sparrow smiling even as the wind and horse's mane lashed her face.

Shea-Ann screamed her approval along with the rest of the crowd as Sparrow rode to victory.

She slowed Sea-Storm and hugged the stallion's sweaty neck. "Good boy!"

The blacksmith sat astride her blowing mount, glaring in Lock's direction. He winked at her, but refrained from approaching Sparrow and Sea Storm. He remained in line with the other slaves.

A slim, redheaded woman approached Sparrow and said, "Congratulations. That's a fine, fast horse you have. You've won the first prize, two new blankets from the seamstress's shop, a pair of boots from the cobbler, two sacks of apples, and the slave of your choice for tonight."

Smiling, Sparrow glanced at Lock and dismounted while Shea-Ann held Sea Storm. She looked so beautiful, her cheeks flushed from the ride, her face sprinkled with perspiration and streaked with dirt. He stood straighter, towering over the other slaves, as he waited for her to claim him.

Sparrow walked past him, and his brow furrowed as he stared after her. She started at the far end of the line, glancing over the slaves, pausing in front of some. She took particular interest in a man nearly as tall as Lock, smooth shaven, with short black hair.

I knew it! He thought, his pulse throbbing. She doesn't like the beard after all!

Sparrow moved to the next man, then the next. She paused in front of a yellow-haired slave, extremely muscular, but far too short by Lock's standards. Still, he had another smooth face.