The boy stuck his hands on his hips and straightened his spine. “Peter.”
“Well, Peter, you look like a smart boy. Since our friend Tink here won’t make a deal with me, perhaps you will.” He reached into his pocket and fished out a few coins. “As promised, and a few extra.”
The blond boy’s mouth gaped as he swayed toward the coins.
“Thank you…”
“Hook, Captain Hook.” He lifted his hat and gave a dramatic bow to the boys. “Now,” he said as he replaced his hat, “you’re all welcome to live here and enjoy this fascinating home while I take this meddlesome pixie with me.”
“What?” Tink screeched. “This is my house.”
Hook looked over his shoulder at the fuming beauty on the floor.Blast, she’s lovely when she’s furious. “Itwasyour home, love.”
“I’m not your—”
“But seeing as you stole a very valuable treasure, I think this is a more than fair trade. You and the boys will watch after the place, right, Peter?” He winked at the boy.
“Of course.” Peter grinned in return.
“And…if you happen to find a beautiful necklace—chain gold and a ruby bigger than that coin I gave you—hold on to it for me? I’ll make it worth your while.” He tossed another coin to the lad, who grabbed it out of the air. They wouldn’t find the necklace, if Tink was to be believed, but perhaps they’d find some other lovelies for him. With another wink to the boys, he turned back to the woman on the floor. “Time to get back to my ship. The crew’ll think you bespelled me again.”
Cloth rustled on stone as she thrashed against the rope still binding her arms. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Oh, on the contrary. We’re going to find us some mermaids.”
In moments, he had her hoisted over his shoulder, barely dodging a kick to his own treasured jewels.
“You cannot just…just steal me!”
“Pirate, remember?”
“Insufferable, lousy, no-good, thieving pirate!”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “Who’s the thief?”
She screamed in frustration and thrashed in his grip.
“You’ll want to stop that,” Hook said. “It’s a long drop down that ladder of yours.” She stilled like a sack of grain.Smart girl. The climb down would be difficult at best with his good hand occupied holding her steady.
He tipped his hat with his hook. “Boys.” Without another glance, he headed for the exit, ready to be rid of this place for good.
No sooner had he left the room than the boys let out excited whoops and cheers. Soft, rapid thumping echoed as they took off to explore their new abode. Tink sighed—more frustration than resignation. He could almost picture her pout. Too bad he couldn’t see her face, or any of her with the blanket tied around her. He’d remedy that. Soon, very soon.
Chapter 6
Tink
This was it. He was going to drop her, and she’d die from the fall. Such an embarrassing end for a pixie. Tink did everything she could to remain still as Hook descended the swaying rope ladder with only his namesake to hold him steady. His other arm—one she had to admit was rather strong and solid around her legs—kept her from spilling to the ground.
At last, Hook’s boots thumped onto solid ground.Praise Holy Flora.He’d made it down without killing her. Still, she’d gut him like the slippery fish he was for abducting her like this. And giving her home to those little rascals? Unacceptable. Maybe she’d drug him with pixie dust, if she could ever make more, and drown him in his precious sea while he lived in his happy dreams. Just thinking about it made the corners of her lips curl.
“It’s a long walk back, I’m afraid,” Hook said, though he didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
Something crashed above. Boys whooped. The silhouette of one shone against the thin curtain over a window. She sighed. There’d be nothing left of her home if she didn’t get free soon.
“It’s a fair night. Calm sea. Nice breeze. Would be perfect with fine rum and a beautiful woman in my arms. Oh wait.” He patted her legs. “I seem to have one. Too bad she’s a trixie pixie.”
Tink rolled her eyes, trying not to focus on Hook’s coat-covered ass looming in her view. Shapely, but not too much so. She could almost picture the way his breeches stretched across the firm backside underneath. Or the corded muscle of his back that her fists had smacked against without avail.
