The enchanting spell instantly broke. “How dare you!” Moving aside, Emeline batted him away.
But instead of an apology, he winked, grinned, and, before she could stop him, he drew near, kissed her cheek, then tore down the street with his two friends.
Heat swamped her face, and she lifted her hands to the spot his lips had touched. Heart racing, her emotions raged between outrage and something else, something she was too ashamed to admit.
Her father stood before her, peering into her face. “Are you all right, darling?”
“Aye, Papa. I nearly was run over by a wagon, but a man…” She looked down the road, but the enigmatic stranger was gone.
b
Three to four. Not good odds. Not great odds since the four men in black already had blades drawn.Sabers, if Blake was correct—longer swords with strange engravings on their silver hilts and a slight curve to the blades.
“The Ring.” The man who appeared to be the leader held out his palm. The accent.Spanish?Italian?
The last vestiges of the sun sank below the horizon, absconding with its golden light. But not before Blake saw the man’s face.If ever there was a sinister looking face, his was it. Not uncomely with his high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and hawk-like nose, but evil nonetheless. Hair the color of dirt was tied behind him cavalier-style, matching his pointed beard. But his eyes…an indescribable color, empty and devoid of life.
“What Ring?” Blake answered, nonchalantly.
The fist struck his face before he could defend himself. Finn and Maston started forward, but the press of four blades kept them at bay.
Pain radiated across Blake’s cheek and spiraled down his neck. “Ah,thatRing,” he said playfully, stretching his jaw.
“You have five seconds to give it to me, or you and your friends are fish bait.”
Blake raised his hands. “I don’t have it. I lost it in the fight. You were there. You saw how that reprobate Crock tipped over the table.”
Though he could no longer see the man’s eyes in the shadows, he felt them piercing into his very soul. A shiver ran down him. Anunusualshiver.
“Search us.” Blake held out his hands.
The man snapped his fingers, never taking his eyes off Blake. And he got the impression he didn’t give a care whether he searched them dead or alive.
One of the men approached him, sheathed his blade, and began touching and patting his shirt and breeches. It took everything in Blake not to shove him to the ground. The humiliation, worse in front of his men, was not to be borne!
“Careful there,” Blake said. “Sorry, mate, but I’m spoken for.”
The man huffed his disdain.
Maston snorted out a chuckle.
Two other men searched Maston and Finn but came up empty.
A ship bell rang in the distance. Wind ripe with the scents of roasted pork and ale wafted over them as seconds turned into minutes. Still, the leader of this pack of wolves merely stared at them.
Finally, he breathed out a sigh. “I should kill you and be done.”
Shrugging, Blake inched his hand to the hilt of his blade. “Ah, but what a mess that would make. We have no quarrel with you, Sir. We are but lowly pirates trying to earn a dishonest living.”
The man snapped his fingers once again. Blake gripped his cutlass, prepared for the fight of his life. But the strange villain spun on his heels, his cloak swirling about him, and marched away, his lackeys following in his wake.
Blake allowed himself to breathe.
“Odd,” Maston commented, as if they’d just had tea with the gentlemen. “Guess you aren’t the only one after that Ring,Capitaine.”
Finn huffed and scratched his head beneath his ever-present gray bandana. “Good thing they left when they did, Cap’n. Me fingers were itchin’ t’ blast them all t’ the wind.”
“And a fine fight it would have been, my friend.” Slapping him on the back, Blake started back the way they came.
