"You should charge a fee to look at him," the seamstress suggested. "The novelty will wear off eventually, but until then, you could make a little profit."

"I will not charge women to look at him! Do I look like a flesh peddler? Now I'll ask you all to leave and tell everyone else not to bother coming."

"Tell the others if they want a look at me, Sparrow usually gets home around dusk!" Lock called to the retreating women. "But I don't want to miss supper, so be waiting when she gets here. Ten at a time in the house. The others form a line outside. One...no two silver pieces a head. That sounds fair, doesn't it, girl?" He wiggled his eyebrows in Sparrow's direction. "I'm worth a good two hundred a look, but I don't think this pathetic village has that kind of wealth lying around."

The women, still chatting among themselves, left the house. Sparrow slammed the door behind them and glared at Lock. "Do you have even a shred of self-respect? And put that loincloth back on! Preferably your tunic, too!"

He laughed. "What's the harm in looking? You thought bringing them here to gawk at me would annoy me? I've had worse than that in my day. Bring them in. Make yourself some money. Nice to know women are willing to pay just to have a look. Not that I blame them."

He didn't touch the loincloth, but sat on the floor, his back braced against the wall and his arms folded behind his head, making his large biceps bulge. His c.o.c.k appeared even bigger than before as it stood up in a kinky bush of brown and white pubic hair. That, along with his broad, hairy chest and his taut abdomen made Sparrow's mouth dry.

"What about you?" he asked in a husky voice, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe. "You already paid top dollar for me. Want to try your goods?"

Sparrow licked her dry lips. That suggestion was almost too tempting, but if he didn't have any pride, at least she did.

"I have to get back to work," she muttered.

"There's always tonight!" he called as she closed the door behind her.

Chapter Seven.

Lock stared at the door and cursed. Who did the little b.i.t.c.h think she was? Dragging women and children in and out of the house all day to gawk at him!

He'd known by the smug look on her pretty face that she'd brought the women just to annoy him. Little did she know he'd endured far worse in his life. If those women wanted to pay to see him, fine. Debasing himself had been a way of life for him since the day he'd been born.

Don't you have any self-respect? she'd asked. He'd earned the fear of other men. He'd fought to make himself the most terrifying pirate in the SothSeas. Where he came from, that was as close to respect as a man could get.

When Sparrow and the women had entered the house, he hadn't cared one way or the other about the villagers. It was the look on Sparrow's face when she gazed at him, the way her trousers clung to her legs, and the way the open neck of her billowy shirt revealed the firm, plump curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s that made him want to bed her down like no woman he'd ever met before. Just looking at her and envisioning the look of discovery in her innocent eyes when he took her stirred his flaccid organ enough to provide the pesky village women with a decent show. He hadn't been watching for their reactions, though. Only Sparrow's. She'd blushed the loveliest shade of red and looked at his c.o.c.k like she wanted to devour it. He had no doubts about her s.e.xual inexperience a not that she wasn't an absolute pleasure to kiss and fondle-but he knew once she got the first real taste of hard rutting, she'd be wilder than any SothSea wh.o.r.e. Still, he knew the former princess would only share her wiles with a single man. She was decent, of that he was certain. She was too good for him, but he wanted her anyway, and he wanted his freedom more. By the time he was through, he'd have both his freedom and a taste of the dethroned princess to take with him as a memory.

He was already formulating a plan. Sparrow had told the children she kept his key on her. All he had to do was lure her close enough again and this time take what he wanted...in every way.

Sparrow walked slowly to the house, dragging a sled of firewood behind her. Winter would be coming in a few short months, and she'd been chopping extra wood in preparation for the frigid season. She felt a little weary as she parked the sled outside of the house and stepped in, looking forward to a hot meal and a good night's sleep.

All afternoon, her mind had been filled with the vision of Lock naked. When he'd been ill, she and Shea-Ann had seen him nude many times. They'd had to help him do everything, since he was too weak and in too much pain to do much for himself. Though she'd found him attractive even through the worst of times, it had been next to impossible to become aroused over a man whose back was like a slab of raw meat. He healed remarkably fast, however, and the whipping seemed so long ago. He was almost completely healed and exuded power like she'd never imagined. She wondered what it would feel like to have his big, naked body claim hers. She'd always imagined her first time to be with a gentle man, one who loved her and whom she loved. Now she was having l.u.s.ty thoughts about a rugged, hateful pirate, and she couldn't help herself.

As she stepped into the house, her gaze riveted to Lock's corner of the room. She'd expected him to greet her with one of his snide remarks, but to her surprise he was asleep on his blankets. At the fireplace, she stirred the pot of stew and filled two bowls. She was about to place Lock's within distance of his reach when she noticed a mug of water had spilled all over the floor by his head.

Muttering, she placed the bowls on the table, took up a rag, and squatted beside him to clean up the water.

She screamed as his arms locked around her, pinning her own to her sides. She struggled, kicking him violently, but his legs wrapped around her and he held her in a grapple hold.

"Let go of me!" she bellowed, her heart pounding. Blinded by sheer terror of what he might do, she continued fighting, though she was unable to move a limb.

"Where's the key, princess?" he said close to her ear, his beard rough against her face.

"No! I'll never let you go!"

"I'm n.o.body's slave! You're going to give me that key one way or the other!"

"Never!"

"That fond of me, are you?" He gloated, shaking her hard. "Give it to me!"

Sparrow had never been so frightened in her life. His body was like unbendable metal, his hold almost painful. She saw fire in his demonic blue eyes and wondered if he meant to kill her. It served her right for taking him into her house. Everyone had warned her that he was a murdering thief. Suddenly she remembered the law the bounty hunter had told her of. If he escaped, she'd receive his punishment!

"Lock, listen to me! If you run away, I have to take your punishment. That's the law here."

He loosened his grip only enough to spin her so that she faced him. His eyes were so hard, so furious, and so full of...He pressed her closer, and she felt his hard c.o.c.k against her belly.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"If you escape and word gets out, I have to take your punishment because I was responsible for you."

He hesitated, studying her face. "Do you think I care?"

"Yes," she whispered, praying that if she acted as though she believed he was capable of human emotions, he would start to believe it himself. "I think you do."

His lip curled slightly and she saw his chest rise and fall with agitated breathing. He snarled through clenched teeth, his fingers bruising her arms. "Give me the key or I'll kill you."

"I'd rather have you kill me quickly than have them torture me!"

"What makes you think I'll do it quick?" He stood, dragging her to her feet and thrusting her against the wall. He pinned his body against hers, his broad, warm chest crushing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his steely thighs trapping her legs. He rubbed his c.o.c.k against her crotch. Sparrow shivered. He buried his face in her neck, his tongue licking her flesh, his teeth nipping, his beard tickling. Sparrow closed her eyes and felt every bit of strength leave her legs.

The man was a beast! He was ravaging her, or so he thought. The sensations of his body and lips were like nothing Sparrow had ever experienced. His earlier kisses had been gentle, almost tender, but these were filled with such forbidden pa.s.sion that she felt as if she was drowning in desire. He released his hold on her arms and ran his hands over her hips, up her ribs, and finally cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. A warm globe in each hand, he squeezed gently. His thumbs caressed her nipples through her rough cotton shirt, and Sparrow gasped. Her hands gripped his back hard, and she felt his sharp intake of breath. Remembering his still-healing flesh, she nearly drew back, but why should she? He was using his body to punish her, why shouldn't she do her best to punish him?

She dug her fingers deeper into the newly healed skin, and he groaned. He dropped to his knees and unraveled the ties of her shirt, licking her flesh as it was bared. His mouth captured one pert nipple. He sucked hard, his beard rough against her tender flesh. A guttural moan erupted from the depths of Sparrow's soul. His tongue laved the nipple while he kneaded her other breast.

She felt as if she was melting, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered the reason behind this sensual scene. He wanted the key and was going to search every part of her to find it. She reached beneath the waist of her trousers, removed the key, and flung it.

Lock's head snapped over his shoulder and he stared, open mouthed, at the key glistening in the corner of the room. Sparrow took the opportunity to leap out of the way. He caught her ankle, but she kicked him and scrambled out of his reach.

"You b.i.t.c.h!" he raged, his eyes shooting blue fire. His chest rose and fell in his fury. Sparrow trembled both from arousal and terror. He pointed at her. "You better pray I don't get out of here, girl! You better pray! I'll make the bounty hunters look like Knights of the Ruby Order for what I have planned for you!"

Sparrow sat for a moment, panting, her eyes fixed on Lock's. Suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore. She lay on her bed, wrapped herself in her blankets, and wished she'd never made the mistake of saving his life.

"Wake up, b.i.t.c.h!"

Sparrow jumped from the bed, her heart pounding and her eyes frantic. She'd lain awake for most of the night, more unsettled by Lock's attack than she wanted to admit. It seemed like she'd finally drifted off when his bellow roused her.

"It's about time." Lock stood, his arms folded across his chest. "I thought you died in that bed-and without ever having had a man in it."

Sparrow poured water into a basin and washed, her stomach grumbling with hunger. She'd been too upset all night to get up and eat. Now she was ravenous.

"Have you lost your tongue?" Lock continued. "What does a man have to do to get some food around here?"

"He has to keep silent!" Sparrow snapped, furious at him for disrupting her life. She'd been happy before she'd met him.

"Starting to get to you, aren't I, Princess? Just think, I'm yours forever, unless you set me free."

"You know I can't do that."

"Oh, yes. You not only paid for me but took my punishment as well. I'm not sure I believe you about that part of the trade."

"Why would I lie?"

"Thought you'd play on my sympathy, but surprise, girl. SothSea pirates don't have sympathy."

Sparrow stared at him, but in spite of her anger, she remembered his hesitation the night before when she'd told him why she wouldn't free him. For the briefest moment, she'd seen confusion in his demonic eyes. Maybe he didn't even realize it, but he did feel something for her.

"I don't think that's true," Sparrow told him.

"To me, mercy is a waste of time. If I felt, Princess, I'd have been dead by now."

"And if I didn't feel, you'd be dead!"

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss that tight little a.s.s of yours because you made me a slave? Come here and pull down those trousers. I'll do it." He flung her a hateful look. "Give you some excitement."

"Why do you always have to be so vicious? Is that the only way you can stomach your own lousy life? What made you more angry, Lock, that I outsmarted you last night or that you're starting to feel something for me?"

"Feel for you?" He laughed. "Look at you! Muscle-bound little runt."

Sparrow pointed a finger at him and roared, "You're ridiculing my looks? That's rich. You're an oversized, ignorant, arrogant, ugly, murdering thief!"

"What do you mean ugly?"

Sparrow stopped suddenly and drew a calming breath. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to force me into giving you the key. I'm sorry, but I don't relish the thought of being tortured until I faint."

They stared at each other for a moment, and he sat, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not keen on that part of it, either."

She smiled softly. "I knew you had some decency in there somewhere."

"What is wrong with you?" He glared at her, pointing to one of his branded arms, then the other. "It's spelled out for you. Murderer. Thief. You know it. Everyone knows it. Stop trying to make me into something I'm not, and both of us will be a lot happier!"

"Why are you so afraid of being something other than a pirate?"

"You mean like a slave? I don't think so, Princess. Not everyone can come down in the world as easy as you."

"Come down?" She laughed humorlessly. "I think a slave would be a step up from a pirate."

He snarled. "I'm not surprised."

Sparrow took several steps closer so that she stood just out of his reach yet could see the fine lines in the corners of his eyes and the thickness of his lashes. "When you were a boy, didn't you ever dream of being anything but a pirate?"

"There you go with dreams again. They mean nothing. I could dream every night of ramming your fresh young body until we both pa.s.s out, but it doesn't mean it's going to happen."

Sparrow stared into his eyes for a long moment. In spite of his vulgarity, his words aroused her more than she wanted to admit.

"Like that idea, do you, girl?" His smile was more sensual than leering.

Sparrow walked across the room to prepare the morning meal. She could take him when he was taunting her, but the idea of actually making love with him was more than she could handle. If she hadn't been so terrified of his strength and his temper, she might have freed him just long enough to bed him.

She slid his bowl of food toward him with the broom handle, fearful of getting too close lest he try a.s.saulting her again.

"I won't be back until tonight," she told him before she left. "After I'm finished with the farm work, I have to make a trip to the village. I'll be home around dusk."

"You have to give me something to do while I'm here. I'm losing my mind. I forgot what sunlight looks like."

Sparrow glanced over her shoulder and sighed.

"Want to sh.e.l.l some peas?"

His eyes widened in feigned excitement. "Oh can I really, Mistress? I didn't faint from the lash, but I don't think I can endure the excitement of sh.e.l.ling peas."

"Fine. Then sit there all day."

She opened the door and he hissed, "Give me the d.a.m.ned peas!"

Unable to control her smile, Sparrow did as he asked.

Sparrow squinted at the crowd of women gathered outside her home. There were tall women, fat women, skinny women, old women, and young women. There were women with dogs on leashes, women selling food and ale out of wagons. The sound of wind instruments and drums echoed over the hillside.

"What in the name of the twin G.o.ddesses is happening here?" Sparrow murmured as she fought her way through the crowd to the front door which, to her dismay, was ajar. A row of tall, burly brunettes whom Sparrow recognized as triplets who farmed on the opposite side of the village, blocked her entrance. At collective wail of laughter from the ladies closest to the door, Sparrow stood on tiptoe and stared over two of the triplets' shoulders.

Her jaw dropped as she noticed Lock standing as close to the entrance as his chains would allow. Naked, he flexed his biceps and winked at several of the women. Two girls played flutes while an older women -their mother-beat on two tall drums. Usually the mother and daughters played their instruments at village gatherings, but today they'd found a better reason to entertain. Lock danced to the rhythm of the drums, gyrating his hips in a manner so suggestive that Sparrow felt herself blushing as she watched his c.o.c.k and b.a.l.l.s bounce with his every movement. His hands and arms flowed to the sound of the flute, and his sensual mouth wore a smile that was as sarcastic as it was inviting. Sparrow's favorite frying pan, filled with gold, copper, and silver coins, lay at his feet.

The music stopped, and Lock stood, his hands on his hips, his kinky hair grabbing at his broad shoulders, several strands brushing his lean chest. One of his hands cupped his b.a.l.l.s and his other curled around his c.o.c.k, pumping the shaft. It swelled even more. Giggles and l.u.s.ty murmurs swept through the crowd.

Lock wiggled his eyebrows and sang, "Me first mate drank a barrel ao rum before we slipped into dock. He fell over his feet, the drink had aem beat, and a crack in the wharf ate his c.o.c.k."

"That's enough!" Sparrow snarled, shoving her way past the triplets and standing in front of Lock. "Everybody out of my house! Out!"

"Sparrow, we were just having a bit of fun!" someone shouted.

"Come on, Sparrow! Just a little longer. We'll pay!"

"No!" Sparrow picked up the frying pan and flung the contents at the crowd. The women leapt back, and the ones inside fled.