Four Years Ago
Her fingers flew over the laptop keyboard with exacting precision. There could be no ambiguity. Orders were orders, after all, and she expected full compliance. The man would be a fool not to obey.
With a quick glance to the on-screen clock and mental math for the time zone change, she hit send on the email. He should respond shortly, well before she landed in Port Royal within the hour. But for now, she reopened the PDF window and resumed reading.
God, the Persephone had been loaded with just everything. The cargo manifest seemed endless. Fine china. Rare tea. Designer diamonds. Vintage wine.
The total cargo value at over $4.5 million pounds still staggered her. What colossal genius thought loading one ship with so much value was a brilliant idea? There was no evidence – yet – to suggest that the pirates knew the value of the goods in the ship's hold before the attack. But, bloody hell, were they in for a lovely surprise when the goods were taken to the black market.
A private smirk curled her lips as she recalled the board meeting to discuss the attack. She'd never seen the CEO so animated, so red-faced. Honestly, she couldn't blame him. The attack and sinking of the East India Trading Company's premiere flagship in the Caribbean was a slap to the company, the Crown, and the empire. Well, considering it wasn't the first pirate attack in recent months, it was more appropriately the straw that broke the camel's back.
And it had all happened under the watch of the youngest appointed commodore in the entire Royal Navy.
To be fair, every report and profile she had read about Commodore James Lawrence Norrington more than qualified him capable to the task. As captain of the battlecruiser HMS Interceptor , he had the most successful track record of any Caribbean ship for bringing pirates to justice. As a newly-minted commodore, his hand at the helm of the battleship HMS Dauntless led to another wave of successes. The man's record was flawless up until the last year. But then, pirates commandeered and subsequently sank the Interceptor off Barbados, and this was followed almost immediately by the foundering of the Dauntless off Tripoli in a hurricane.
She had to give Norrington credit for having two of the most expensive mistakes on record within a fourteen-month span. When this man fucked up, he did it in grand style.
In the last month since her assignment during that fateful board meeting, she had learned a lot about Commodore Norrington. How else would she be successful if she didn't know the man she was up against? Especially now that she was on her way to help the esteemed commodore and Governor Swann solve their piracy problem once and for all. For the benefit of the company, the Crown, and the empire, of course.
She glanced over to her bag in the empty seat next to her, visualizing the sealed envelope inside that carried letters from both the Crown and the company granting her full authority and autonomy in all matters pertaining to the situation. After all, no one could expect a ship like thePersephone to go down without swift retribution.
And EITC Director for West Africa Cutlena Beckett was the instrument of that retribution.
She'd spent the first ten years of her life hating her given name. Her parents made no secret of the fact that they only wanted a boy. They even had a name all picked out. A good, strong, solid name. Cutler Thomas Beckett. No matter the mounting evidence that they were to have a girl, her parents held fast until that day in the delivery room. That day she was born without a penis. That day it was confirmed her mother would never bear another child. Only then had last minute changes been made.
Cutlena Thomasine Beckett.
But thanks to the absence of a son, by the time she was twelve, she had well learned to channel the hatred of her name and the frustrations of perfect expectations into everything she did. And by doing so, she excelled. Only the best would do and nothing but the best was expected.
Friends were largely a liability waiting to manifest and she had a thin trail of discretionary lovers over the years, but nothing permanent. It seemed everyone only really wanted a slice of her power and position. More's the pity as she hadn't found anyone who was even remotely worthy of it. Maybe she never would, but it was nothing to lose sleep over. She had never wanted for anything in her life before and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now.
Even this executive jet was first-class.
Her phone buzzed with a text next to her laptop, drawing her gaze. She had heard that the governor was a thoughtful man, but even this was surprising.
I hope that you are having a pleasant journey. You should find everything satisfactory for your arrival.
And such a well-mannered gentleman, too. She typed out an appropriate response.
Thank you for the wishes. Your accommodations are most appreciated.
She wouldn't have it said that Cutlena Beckett's manners weren't flawless. Especially when the governor of the colony texted her personally to talk of her arrival arrangements. Indeed, she didn't expect to want for anything on this visit.
Excellent. You'll find Lt. Theodore Groves waiting for you on the tarmac. I look forward to meeting you in person soon.
Her brow lifted in surprise. Lt. Theodore Groves, indeed. It had been several years since she last heard his name. Even longer still since she had last seen him. His family had always called him Teddy. And she had, too. Well, at least up until the rhythm of his thrusting hips choked off her words.
God, how many years ago was that? Ten? Maybe eleven? The one New Year's Party where she hadn't been able to stop noticing just how much he'd grown up. She was fresh from uni and he just entered his third year, but when she followed him up to the second floor library, their positions in life mattered little. He felt so damn good - so hard, so hot, so fuck - and she lit up for him with all the passion of youthful indiscretion. He asked for nothing afterwards, the next day or any days that followed. She honestly hadn't expected any different. He wasn't a family approved suitor, after all.
Was it coincidence or fate that he would now be the one to greet her on the Caribbean tarmac?
The ping of a newly arrived email distracted her. She opened it, pouring over the brief response.
Your orders have been received. We will proceed without delay. – Kraken
There were no real names in her original email or in his response. She knew better than to use her corporate email, and he had supplied an email address that she strongly suspected was a burner just for this assignment. He'd chosen his own code name, and given his penchant for the dramatic, it hadn't surprised her.
She smirked, satisfied as she closed the email. With Plan B already in motion and Plan A set to commence on her arrival, she had all confidence this mess would be cleared up in the next two months. Three, tops.
The plane landed in short order, uneventful and smooth as it glided to a stop. She could make out two black cars gleaming in the bright sunlight, and a tall man in a crisp, dark uniform. She reached for her sunglasses before exiting the plane, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stepped out into the humid heat. Such a far cry from the cool, drizzly London weather she'd left behind.
Heat rose from the tarmac as she walked towards the man she easily recognized as Teddy – but no, that name no longer fit. The man she approached now was undoubtedly a Theodore – his body disciplined from naval service, the handsome lines of his face rugged with hints of the cavalier mischief that she remembered.
His posture and expression was all strict business, but his eyes shone with the warmth of fond recognition as he tipped his head in greeting. "Ms. Beckett, welcome to Port Royal."
"Come now, Theodore. We know each other far too well to be so formal."
He huffed a soft laugh. "You weren't in quite the same position when we last met. I didn't want to presume."
"I appreciate that, but I won't be offended."
"That's the last thing anyone wants." He held out a hand towards the car door. "Shall we?"
She let him open her car door – more a sign of respect for her position as ranking executive than a chivalrous act. As they rolled off the tarmac, the simplicity of the motorcade surprised her. Just her and Theodore in the lead car, with a security detail that followed behind.
She turned from the window. "You know, I was braced for a fanfare on my arrival. But I'll freely admit this is much more pleasant."
"The Governor had planned a to-do. Red carpet, official receiving line, brass band. But the idea was set aside at Commodore Norrington's insistence. There are still ongoing, active duties for all parties, and the Crown already suspects that we're slouching on the job with the recent uptick in piratical activity. The commodore felt that it wouldn't be a good first impression to have everyone just standing around in fanfare."
Her mouth pursed in consideration, equal parts impressed at his admission and surprised at his frankness. There wasn't a reason to sugarcoat her response. "He's right, you know. It is the esteemed opinion of both the Crown and my management that the colonial authorities here are doing very little to curb this recent rash of piracy. As my very presence here now indicates."
"Yes, ma'am. I understand why you're here." The sideways grin he slid her was right out of her memory. Playful, subversive, but nothing that could ever be proven. "I know what I signed up for when I volunteered for escort duty."
She huffed a breath of amusement, the corner of her mouth ticking up. "It is good to see you again, despite the circumstances. You're looking quite well."
"Thank you. You, too. The company position must agree with you."
A full smile lit her face. The cat with the cream. "It rather does."
"I can tell. I should very much like to hear of your adventures in Africa, sometime."
"And is that all?"
"I wouldn't be opposed to a quiet drink some evening, if your schedule allows."
"Bold of you. It's barely been 10 minutes."
"You did already tell me to dispense with formalities."
"Yet you use them anyway."
"Yes, ma'am."
She shook her head, unable to completely banish her earlier hint of a smile. "Then yes, I would enjoy that sometime."
His eyes sparked with obvious excitement carefully managed by his well-mannered presentation. "So would I."
She turned back to the window as the car slowed. Fort Charles didn't look all that impressive on approach. Several stone parapets – cannons, too - still stood guard, but they were clearly just for show, a tribute to the history. The Royal Navy wouldn't dare leave security to chance no matter how unassuming the fort looked.
The car dropped them off under a shady awning and he showed her down a marble hallway, lined with ornate, wooden doors. The colonial offices, he explained, with the Governor's at the end of the hall.
He rapped lightly on the heavy wooden door. "Governor Swann? Ms. Beckett to see you."
"Ah, yes. Wonderful!" The governor's voice sounded pleasant enough and as Groves held the door open for her to enter, she got her first look at the man. A warm and friendly smile, pleasant face, and eyes wrinkled with laugh lines of a happy life. Some distant part of her wondered what one had to do to find such a thing.
"Governor Swann." She stepped forward, offering her hand to match. "It's an honor."
"Not at all, Ms. Beckett. The honor is entirely mine." His handshake was warm and jovial. The handshake of a true politician. "Your work on the African coast has been most impressive. Highest margins, highest returns. I know that we could all stand to learn from the wisdom of your experience."
Not even five minutes in and he was already licking her boots. Maybe this would go smoother than she thought. "That's kind of you to say. Thank you. I look forward to taking on the situation here."
"And the Caribbean is all the better for your generous service." Swann looked over at Groves with a small nod. "Thank you, lieutenant. Please inform the commodore of Ms. Beckett's arrival."
"He's already on his way, governor." Groves nodded politely at her with the barest hint of a smile. "A pleasure to see you again, ma'am."
She tipped her head in polite farewell as Groves moved for the door, closing it behind him.
The governor gestured for her to take the chair opposite his desk as he returned to his plush, leather seat. "I'm given to understand that you and Lieutenant Groves are family friends?"
"Yes, his family was always in attendance for the holiday parties. I'd lost track of his navy postings, but was pleased to meet him on the tarmac."
"Splendid. It is indeed such a small world." He smiled amenably. "Now, I'm sure you must be wondering about your schedule, at least for these first days. To start, I thought you might prefer having the rest of today to tend your business and get acquainted with the new surroundings. Tomorrow, the Commodore has reserved the whole day to be at your disposal, sequestered in a conference room, free from the distractions of his post so that you can dive full steam ahead into our situation."
"That sounds most agreeable."
"Excellent. I'm pleased to hear it." He hesitated, a hint of worry creeping into the set of his brow, the slant of his eyes. "I must admit that we are all a little unfamiliar with everything that your visit heralds, but you have my full assurance that everyone is available to support you. Should it be needed, you need only ask."
"Thank you, governor. I expected nothing less."
A soft knock sounded outside the door before it opened without waiting for an acknowledgement.
"Welcome, Commodore." The governor launched out of his seat, his face the warm picture of enthusiastic cooperation. "Ms. Beckett, please allow me to introduce Commodore James Norrington of the Caribbean Royal Navy Fleet.
She stood to offer her hand, discreetly taking in the finer points of his appearance. He was by far more handsome than she'd originally given his photos credit. His uniform, while just as crisp and pristine as Theodore's, fit him like a second skin with a noble and proud bearing, as though he had been born to wear nothing else. The intelligent green eyes and silver streaks in his neatly coiffed dark hair held her attention longer than they should, speaking to the rank and position he carried, despite his age. It was all an immensely appealing combination. It flashed in the primal part of her brain that she'd love to see this buttoned-up man disheveled and raw. His hair mussed, eyes blown wide and lips swollen. Mm, but he would make such a sight.
He shook her hand, his grip firm and strong. "Ma'am. My deepest apologies on the loss of the Persephone ."
Straight to business, then. She leveled him with a hard look despite the notable height difference. "I'm sure you do mean that, commodore. But with all due respect, the loss happened on your watch so your apology means very little."
"Of course, ma'am."
The governor's face fell as he turned to her with a pleading look. "All of us feel absolutely horrid and take full responsibility for the loss of your company's premiere vessel."
She turned back for her bag, not sparing the governor a glance. "It's no secret that the company does place full responsibility for the loss on the Caribbean Royal Fleet. Enough so that my CEO had me named a Duly Appointed Representative of His Majesty." She reached inside her bag, producing the sealed letters.
Swann's face fell with surprised disappointment, but he quickly tried to cover it with a smile as he accepted the letters, his throat working visibly. "Of course. I would expect nothing less."
"In the name of the company and the Crown, I have been granted full authority to divert and allocate resources as necessary to eliminate this threat. Governor, you have already said as much, but explicitly know that I expect both of your full cooperation in all matters."
Nothing shifted in the commodore's impassive face or his stern gaze. "Yes, ma'am. In all matters."
"Yes," Swann continued eagerly, "yes, you will find Commodore Norrington an excellent partner in this undertaking. His knowledge of these waters is unparalleled, and his service exemplary."
"Governor, please." Norrington cut in swiftly, shooting a sidelong glance to the older man. "Ms. Beckett is allowed to form her own opinions of my service record."
She fixed her gaze back on Norrington. "Aptly said, because I have read it. Multiple times, in fact. And it really only begs one question – with all your proven experience and knowledge, why are you allowing this happen?"
He answered without hesitation. "A pirate who spelled trouble for the Singapore fleet relocated to the Caribbean two years ago. He's managed to stay just one step ahead at every turn, and spreads piracy like an infectious rash wherever he goes, inspiring others to new piratical heights. We've been able to keep a tight watch on those who think of answering the call, but the man himself – regrettably – still eludes us."
She quirked a brow. "No doubt this is the same man you pursued off Tripoli that cost you the Dauntless ?"
The set of his jaw tensed but he didn't flinch under the sharp accusation. She didn't doubt that he had stared down far more intimidating people – even death itself – but there's something to be said for a man who doesn't cower in the face of his own shame. "Yes, ma'am. One and the same."
She shook her head, admonishing, granting him no mercy. "It's good to have the truth of it. Since you have clearly shown yourself incapable of catching and stopping this man, it has lead to my presence here. And let me be clear – continued failure will not be tolerated. For the good of the Crown and the empire, we will shut this man down and get back control of these waters."
"With all due respect, ma'am." The faintest edge of irritated snark flashed on the commodore's words and disappeared before she could react. "Your resume does not suggest a strong background in naval strategy." His words bore knowledge and surety, but no arrogance. It wasn't gloating, rather, it was just a fact stated from his experience.
She still had to give him credit for such boldness. "You are correct, commodore. That is why you will be retained in your post for the time being – as that is your area of expertise." Her lips curled with an edge of victory as his brow furrowed ever so subtly. Had he not considered that his position might be in jeopardy with her arrival? "Your record is spotless with two exceptions. While both of these exceptions carried high costs, they're hardly worth throwing away an entire career, don't you think? Or, at least, that's the message I shall endeavor to take back to the Admiralty and the Crown. Provided, of course, that you prove yourself worthy of it." She glanced over at the governor. "The same is applicable for other posts here, as well."
The governor huffed a breath as he struggled to keep his pleasant smile, nervously wringing his hands. "Yes, of course, Ms. Beckett. We will all most willingly accept your recommendations and assistance, whatever they may be."
A satisfied smile curved her lips, looking between the governor and the commodore. "It may not be naval strategy, but you'll find my authority within the EITC to be a powerful partner, more than capable of contending with the mess you've made of these waters."
The commodore tipped his head in stiff acknowledgement. "Yes, ma'am. And to that end, the whole day tomorrow is reserved to brief you fully on our situation."
"Indeed. I look forward to it."
"Yes, ma'am. Until tomorrow." Norrington glanced from her to the governor. "If you'll excuse me, please?"
The governor nodded with a warm smile. "Of course, commodore. Please return to your duties."
He snapped off a crisp farewell and another incline of his head before pulling the heavy door open. She watched him go, taking measure of the man whose career future rested in her hands.
The governor cleared his throat softly. "You mustn't judge him too harshly, so soon. The man has many cares and requirements of his post that constantly occupy him. No one has my faith for commanding this fleet more than Commodore Norrington."
"Thank you, governor. That is good to know."
xxx
She hadn't planned to stay so late on her first day. But the manager she'd appointed to the Lagos office had to be removed. He'd bungled one too many shipments and produced too many poor showings against scrappy, area pirates. There had been several calls, countless emails, and an endless stream of paperwork in the transition. Thank God, at least, Mercer was there in person.
She closed down her laptop, sliding it into her bag and tossing the remains of her dinner delivered by some nameless officer into the rubbish bin. The door to the conference room closed behind her, and it was pleasing to see the number of people who still bustled about in uniform, going about their jobs. As she crossed through the lobby and out into the sticky night air, she absently wondered if it was still day-shift, or if changeover had already occurred.
Her phone buzzed, and she stopped just short of reaching the waiting car, reading Mercer's newly arrived email. At last, some good news. The Lagos office replacement was in position to start right away. Hopefully he would prove himself more competent than his predecessor.
"You look in sore need of a drink. I know a place not far from here."
She looked up from her phone, glancing over to see Theodore, clearly on his way out. A slim messenger bag rested on one shoulder, his tie loose at the neck and car keys in hand.
She couldn't help a sidelong smirk. "Hoping to get lucky so soon?"
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "It's not my flat. Come on. Say yes."
"Well, how could I possibly pass up that compelling offer? Just be a minute." She stepped up to her waiting car, having a quick word with the driver on pick-up time in the morning before sending him for the night.
The grin on Theodore's face as she walked back towards him reminded her of every reason why she'd dallied with him in the first place.
It was indeed just a short drive and she couldn't help a wry smile as he parked. The bar couldn't be more Caribbean if it tried – open-air, grass-roof, burning tiki torches.
She huffed a surprised breath. "I was honestly expecting somewhere a bit more…subtle. But this – this is a fitting welcome to the Caribbean."
"If you get a tropical drink with fruit and the works, I promise not to judge." He pulled his door open and she followed.
"Out loud, you mean."
"Of course." He reached for the knot of his tie, sliding it free. The top button of his shirt followed before he slipped out of his heavy black jacket, draping it neatly across the backseat, the adornments of his rank catching in the low light. She looked to her attire quickly before shrugging out of her fitted blazer. Her green dress was sleeveless but had thick straps that crossed the open expanse of her upper back. If he was dressing down, why shouldn't she?
He looked up from rolling the cuffs of his white shirt, revealing strong forearms. "God, you look great. The years have been unfairly kind."
"You're hardly one to talk. Royal Navy PT has certainly paid off."
"That's just the uniform."
"Hardly." She fell into step with him as they walked. "I've seen what's underneath, remember? And that was back when you just boxed at uni."
"And you call me out for hoping to get lucky tonight?"
"You've seen what's underneath mine, too."
"Mmm, and that dress hugs every curve just the way I remember."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, but don't stop trying."
His amused chuckle stayed with her as they settled at a small table and placed drink orders. A scotch on the rocks for him; a Gibson for her.
"A Gibson?" He queried after the waiter departed.
"Mm, a gin martini with pearl onions instead of olives."
"Don't like olives?"
"Never have. God, mother insisted on having them at every party. You remember – the tiered trays."
"Of course. They were always first class."
"Directly imported from Spain, Greece. Nothing less would do for a party hosted by the Minister of Finance's wife."
"And how is your mother?"
She blanched, tilting her head. "Is that really what you want to talk about?"
He shrugged a shoulder, nothing abashed in the movement. "She was always kind to me."
The sentiment softened her expression. Her parents made no secret that only the eldest Groves son was worthy of her affections and marriage prospects. For as the eldest son, Calamy Groves stood to inherit the keys to the largest, most profitable banking business in the entire empire; while the second son, Theodore, would always have to make his own way in the world.
Well, it hadn't taken her more than one holiday party to figure out which of the Groves brothers she preferred.
"I think she did like you." She said softly, drawing back out of her memories. "She never said a word against your brother, but there was little about him that she spoke highly of. Aside from the obvious. But I did hear her say more than once that she found you charming."
The smile that curled his lips was most certainly charming. "Admittedly, I was trying. A naïve hope that perhaps if I won her favor, it might outweigh Calarmy's more obvious prospects. And then in time, who knows…. There was a time, if your hand had been mine for the consideration, I would have thrown myself at your feet to accept. But that all seems like an age past."
She nearly choked. "God, Theodore. I…I had no idea. Shit, you must have thought me terrible for not seeing it." Words didn't usually trip her up, but to be fair, former one-night-stands didn't usually admit they were willing to marry her, either. "I…I would certainly prefer you over Calamy."
He chuckled throatily. An amused, snide sound. "Yes, I think most anyone would prefer not to marry Calamy."
"Is he still unwed?"
"Unwed, yes. But good choice of word as he isn't single."
"Oh, my parents will be devastated that it's not me."
"I'm sure she'll be at the party this year. You can meet her for yourself and form your own opinion."
She drew a breath to speak, stopping short when the waiter interrupted to deliver their drinks. With a quick thanks, the waiter departed and she leaned forward on an elbow to sip from her full martini glass.
"And how is it?" He asked softly, leaning in towards the table, swirling his own drink.
"Respectable."
"Well, I'm glad you're not disappointed." He lifted his glass, settling his eyes on hers. "Cheers. Welcome to the Caribbean."
"Cheers, Theodore." She met his glass with a soft clink, not breaking from his gaze as they each took a drink. It struck her just how easy it would be to fall back in with him again. Just as if they hadn't been apart these last eleven years.
He leaned back in his seat, right arm extending to set his drink down. Two points of black ink peeked out from under his rolled shirtsleeve, catching her eye.
She nodded towards the ink on his arm. "That's new."
He followed her gaze, the corner of his lips lifting playfully. "It's been eleven years. There's a lot that's new."
"Saying that you have more?" She regretted the question as soon as it left her mouth. Especially when his smile just widened by way of response. He had no right to be so disarming. "On second thought, I'd rather not know."
He laughed quietly. "It's just your first day. You might yet find out. How long are you going to be with us?"
"No, no." She licked her lips after taking a drink. "We absolutely cannot talk about anything official. I refuse to see my work compromised by any personal entanglements, especially on my first night. I do have a job do, so rather than fish for information from me, it's up to everyone to cover their own ass, so to speak."
He smirked with a respectful nod. "I understand, and the question wasn't meant to pry. I only wanted to know how many more weeks I might get to enjoy your company. You needn't worry, though. The commodore knows what he's doing. He has nothing to hide."
She flashed back to the image of him in her mind – all staunch surety and handsome seriousness. The recent reports sure painted such a damning picture of his performance that it was indeed hard to believe the man was concealing anything. Maybe that's why he was so…detached? Dour?
She looked back to Theodore with a questioning air as he took a drink. "What's with your CO, hm? Has he always been such a cold fish? Surely, naval service hasn't sucked all the life out of him."
He laughed softly around the rim of his glass. "Well, if you eat enough navy food, it might."
"Theodore, please."
"I thought we weren't allowed to discuss official business."
"This is off the record."
He eyed her suspiciously. "You mean you really don't know? You culled his service record but not the Caribbean gossip blogs?"
She kept her face blank as she took another drink. "Like I said, off the record."
"Well, you don't have to dig deep to learn the story – it was all made unfortunately public once she was abducted by pirates."
"Once she was abducted by pirates?" Had she heard him right?
He hummed as he swallowed. "The commodore's ex-fiancée."
"His ex-fiancée? Abducted?" It sounded absolutely absurd.
"You heard me right." Theodore confirmed, shaking his head. "This is public record – but short version, just after news of their engagement hit, Port Royal came under siege one night and she was kidnapped in the ensuing melee. The commodore mounted a rescue effort - being that she's also the governor's only child - and found her stranded on a deserted island with a similarly exiled pirate captain. With their help, he brought the pirates responsible held to account. But it turns out Elizabeth's other lover was mixed up with the pirate that she had been stranded with, and she requested the commodore rescue him as a wedding gift. But still, after a whole big thing, she rejected the commodore's proposal and eloped with her lover, presumably now her husband."
She stared blankly back at him, trying to process all of that. What on earth had all of that been like? Of the commodore, that made him sound so chivalrous, so gentlemanly. And of the other woman who so heartlessly shut him down?
Cutlena may have been called a heartless bitch around the boardroom, but she was proud to say she had never jilted a former lover so coldly, so deliberately. She certainly couldn't speak to the power of love, but was it really worth playing another man so harshly and crushing his heart to experience it?
She sighed, shrugging her eyebrows as she shook from her thoughts. "That's indeed quite a story. Never knew the power of love could drive a person to such lengths – asking someone to rescue your lover to serve as a wedding gift, indeed." She shook her head, considering, as she took a drink. "I'd probably be bitter too, if I were him. How long ago was all this?"
"Six months or so."
"Before the Dauntless off Tripoli?"
Theodore bit his lip in an obvious debate if he should answer. "Yes, before that."
She drew a breath to speak, but he swiftly cut her off. "And before you say anything more – off the record, supposedly – there is no guilt or grief complex affecting his command decisions. He's been more dedicated than I've ever seen him."
"Obsessed, you might say?"
He smirked shrewdly, raising his glass conspiratorially for the last sip. "You'll have to ask him."
She met his sly grin, almost proud of him for not letting her trap him. "I just might." She tipped her glass, taking in the last of the gin, closing her teeth around the pearl onion in a savory burst.
The waiter returned and the bill settled. She insisted on her half and he politely didn't fight her. God, he was good at being irresistible. Had he always been this way? Or had that come with age? Remembering the gleam in his eyes from the second-story library firelight, the way she'd tore at his tux, and how she moaned when he fucked her with deep, long strokes – perhaps, there had always been something about him.
She followed him back out to his car, dropping easily into the passenger seat as he slid into the driver seat.
His gaze met hers as she clicked her seatbelt and the engine roared to life. "You know – no pressure, no strings – but, in full disclosure, I don't want this to be goodnight. It'd be my privilege to make you come until you can't see straight. I'd even lock Miss B out of the bedroom if you'd stay."
Arousal thrummed through her, eager to accept his offer. She exhaled a breathy sigh. "In full disclosure, I would really like that – but you know I can't. It's too damning too soon for the company rep to fall into bed with her escort on the first night – speculation will already be rampant about our drinks tonight."
"It seemed like a longshot, but I would regret it if I didn't ask."
"I'm glad you did. My feelings would have been hurt if you didn't even try."
"Trust me, there's a lot more I'd like to try for – but another night."
"No promises. Except that I promise to think about you in the shower."
He groaned, shifting the car into reverse. "Bloody fucking tease."
She chuckled smugly. "You're welcome to think of me, too. Unless, of course, that's something your Miss B can help you with."
"No, for chrissake. Miss B is my cat."
She turned to stare at him with a quizzically amused air. "How on earth did you come by owning a cat named Miss B?"
"Mrs. Smithers in the flat above me insisted that I needed a lady in my life to watch over me. Her cat had recently had kittens, and she gifted Miss Brackenstall to keep me in line. Miss B then proceeded to weasel her furry little way into my life, and I've had her ever since."
"So softhearted for such a tough naval officer."
He chuckled softly. "Nothing softhearted about it. She's a mean little bastard when she wants to be. Doesn't forgive me easily when I ship out, or let me barricade her from the bedroom for just anyone."
"Then I should be honored to meet your little hellion sometime."
"I quite look forward to the clash of ironwills between Miss B and Ms. B." He smirked over at her, turning into her hotel parking lot. "I just hope my flat it still left standing in the aftermath." He turned off the key, reaching for his door handle as she did.
The blast of humid, warm evening air reminded her just how much she had enjoyed the AC on their brief drive. She opened the backseat door, pulling out her blazer and bag as he came around.
"Thank you for tonight, Theodore. It is so good to see you again."
"You too, Cutlena." He made no move to hold out his hand or step closer, but she could plainly read the desire in his eyes.
Her lips curled with self-sure mischief as she took a step closer, catching the barest hint of his scent. An appealing blend of day worn cologne, salty sea air, and exertion in the tropic heat. She pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering for the briefest of moments before pulling back.