“I’m sure she had her reasons.” I’d like to know what those are. “Do you know why she did it?”
He looks up and scratches his bald head. “I don’t rightly remember. Something ter do with her people going missing. Not sure. But you can ask her soon.” He glances at the moon. “Real soon, fairy princess.”
A violin strikes up from one of the cottages.
“Better wear your dancing shoes. I’ll be looking ter sweep you off your feet later.” He grins and cleans off his prep area by the fire.
“I look forward to it.” I give him a little wave then hurry into the house and up to my room.
The dress is hanging in my closet, and I’m excited to put it on. It slides over my skin like silk though I assume it’s some sort of cotton. I honestly don’t know a thing about fabric. Shakespeare? I’ve got you covered. Everyday useful stuff like how to fight or how to make clothes—I have none of it. But I’m working on myself. Seems like ever since Hook took me in his arms and plunged me into the waters off the island, I’ve been learning more about myself than anyone else. Maybe I should ask Nessie to show me some sewing basics. Then again, given the way her scissors make me feel, maybe I should start small. Starkey knows how to sew. If I can put up with his over-the-top flirtations, I can probably learn a thing or two from him.
The dress sits nicely on me, the front dropping into a V between my breasts, but not perilously so, and it cinches in at my waist before flaring out at my hips and draping almost to the floor. When I take a step, the fabric falls from my leg, showing skin up to my thigh. Somewhat revealing, but all the important bits are covered.
When a knock comes at my door, I practice swishing my way over to it, then realize I look silly and just walk like normal, slight limp and all.
I open the door. “Um, hi.” I can’t seem to form any more words. Not when Hook is standing in front of me clean-shaven with his hair styled off his forehead in black waves that frame his angular jaw. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt with the same golden embroidery of moons and flowers on the collar as mine, and it’s buttoned down into a pair of deep blue pants. He smells so good, that familiar scent of pine tar and sea spray, and when I focus on his hands, my eyes widen.
“What’s that?”
“For you.” He holds up a golden necklace with a huge blue sapphire at its center and opals fanning out from it on either side.
“It’s …” I reach up to touch it, then pull my hand back. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It is.” He holds my gaze. “Turn around, lass. I’ll put it on you.”
“Are you sure?” I do as he instructs and turn my back to him. “It looks expensive.”
“This necklace was designed for the queen of the Amazons.” He sweeps my hair from my neck, his fingers lingering along my skin and sending goosebumps shooting down my back.
I close my eyes, living in his touch. When I feel his warm breath against my neck, heat pools between my thighs. “How did you get it?” I ask, trying not to sound breathy and failing.
“I stole it, of course.” He drapes it on my chest, the gold warm from his hands. “The jeweler who created it chartered a ship from the shores of El Dorado. I got word of the manifest from an acquaintance.”
“You have acquaintances?”
“If you hold someone at the end of your sword for long enough, you get acquainted.” His lips graze my ear as his fingers set the clasp.
“I see. Just regular villain stuff.”
He laughs, then takes my shoulders and spins me back to him. “I like that. ‘Regular villain stuff.’”
My cheeks heat, and I can’t seem to look away from him when he smiles like this. His dimples show, his eyes aflame with amusement. He’s so beautiful. Why would any deity create such a villain and wrap him in the most alluring package? Devilry.
“Anyway, I found out the ship’s course, and my crew and I did what we do.”
“General pillaging and thievery, maybe with a dash of murder thrown in?”
“Part of the job, lass.” He glances at the necklace. “But I’ll tell you one thing, I’ve never been more pleased with my plunder than at this very moment.”
If I had any morals, I’d yank this necklace off and toss it at the monster in front of me with a vile curse on my lips and my head held high. But when he looks at me like this, I can’t seem to work up the outrage. I’m under his spell, drawn to him even though I know he’s everything that’s wrong with Neverland.
“It was made for a queen. No wonder you wear it so well.” He grazes his fingertips along the jewels, then lower, tracing the edges of my dress as it drops between my breasts. “So soft, lass.”
I swallow hard. “You look handsome.”
He smirks, those dimples teasing me yet again. “You think so?” He puts his finger under my chin, holding my gaze as he steps closer.
I want to squirm, to make a flippant comment that could defuse the ticking bomb between us, but I don’t. I look at him.Reallylook at him. I show him what I want.
