King's Bay, Madagascar

The entire car ride to the docks, Rafe had kept his body close to hers, his arm having left the back of the seat to grip her thigh. It had been done in a mixture of warning and a way for him to show his control over her. She belonged to him now, and as long as she behaved, no harm would come to her. He didn't have to say it for her to understand, nor did the Shoreline mercenaries surrounding them when they exited the armoured vehicle. Rafe kept a tight grip on her upper arm as he guided her to the awaiting ship, a massive yacht that appeared to have been retrofitted out by Shoreline technology. Whether Rafe or Nadine owed it, it was clearly the base of their operations while at sea, with several other small ships, just big enough to store their vehicle convoys surrounding it. Sara didn't fight against Rafe. There was no point. She had nowhere to run and no means to escape. He had guided her personally to some private bedroom, shoving her down onto the bed and simply leaving her with an order to behave before he left, an audible click alerting her that she was locked in.

Sara swore loudly, enough that the man would have heard her, as she tossed a pillow at the now locked door. She knew he was probably standing on the other side of it, listening to her outburst. Rafe seemed like the type to get off on it, according to Sara. Fucking sadist. After a few moments of deep breathing to calm herself, Sara finally rose from the bed, collected the pillow and tossed it back onto the bed. She began exploring the room where she'd been dumped. It was simple. Basic double bed, a set of side tables, a dresser and an ensuite with a sink, toilet and shower. Apart from the basic amenities, there was nothing inside the side tables or dresser that would be useful to her. She figured Rafe had planned to kidnap her all along and had this room arranged just for her. Clearly, flirting in Italy and then making out in Scotland had put the wrong motion in that boy's head about whatever relationship he assumed existed between them.

Sara groaned, collapsing back onto the bed. She angled her head to stare out one of the porthole windows, noticing it was getting dark. She wondered if the boys had gotten away safely and returned to the motel in one piece. Had they even noticed her missing yet? And if they did, would they realise Rafe had kidnapped her? Samuel would probably blow off a gasket, as he clearly wasn't impressed with how Rafe seemed to lust after her. Who could blame him? His mortal enemy and rival had been getting handsy with his baby sister, and Sara had indulged in it. Encouraging it. Fuck, she had allowed herself to kiss him not once but twice. This is what happened when you hadn't had sex in over three years when you decided to focus on your career. You let yourself get so pent up that when there's tension between you and some smug and handsome bad boy, your legs fly open. "I sound like fucking Emma…" Sara mumbled, eyes closing as she cursed out her inner thoughts.

She wasn't sure what time it was when she finally opened her eyes, only noticing that it was still dark outside the window. It had fallen asleep at some point, and during that, a guard or Rafe must have come by, as there was a tray of food and a glass of water sitting on the bedside table closest to her. Running a hand through her brown hair, she began to pick at the food. A simple ham and cheese sandwich. It would have been a guard who dropped it off, most likely on Nadine's orders. Rafe wouldn't have given her something so bland if he wanted her on his side.

Leaving half the sandwich and water behind, Sara decided to act. Reaching under her shirt, she pulled out her lock pick. She chuckled that Rafe had forgotten to search for the little piece of metal for her, even after she confessed to him that she was hiding it in her bra. As she approached the door, she listened in for any identifying sounds outside, anything that could let her know someone was out there. When she was happy, she knelt down, beginning to work on picking the lock. It took several tries and minutes before she heard the successful click. A smile spread across her face.

She needed a game plan from here. Sneaking around the ship wasn't the best of ideas, and she had no idea if it was still even docked at King's Bay port. But she had to do something, even if it meant looking for a lifeboat or stealing one of those smaller speedboats. Poking her head outside the hallway, she looked around, not spotting any guards or signs of cameras. Moving as fast and quietly as she could, Sara snuck down the hallway, looking for an exit to the outside.

"This place is as big as the museum…" Sara sighed, comparing Rafe's yacht to her work. This ship could be a hotel from its size alone. She found a door with a window, the night sky visible outside. She beamed. Sara opened it, poking her head out, looking for Shoreline mercenaries. She spotted one by a side railing. Sneaking up behind the man, Sara planned to copy the move she'd witnessed Samuel pull outside the watch tower. Instantly, she reached out, using her left hand to cover his mouth while her right arm went around his neck. Despite the man's attempts to fight back, she put as much pressure as possible into the action. Sara snapped his neck hard, an audible crack hitting her ears that made her spine crawl as the body went limp in her arms. Sara pushed his body over the side of the railing, letting it hit the water below. "Thank you, Sam." Standing at the railing, Sara took in her surroundings. They were still stationed at the city docks, which meant she could sneak off the yacht and pass any patrolling men as long as she could remain undetected.

"I told Rafe you'd be more trouble than you're worth." That aggressive British accent hit Sara's ears, the brunette barely having enough time to dodge as Nadine took a swing at her. "Stay still, and it will be quick."

"Sorry, I'm more trouble than I'm worth." Sara retorted, moving into a fighting stance as she stared at the dark-skinned woman. Nadine grunted at the joke, the reaction only making Sara smile wider. Sullivan had described the woman as someone who had no time for nonsense, all business, so throwing some sarcastic remarks her way would only aggravate her more. Sara was hoping she might just slip up if she could make her emotional.

Nadine moved fast and threw a fist at Sara. As Sara dodged, Nadine grabbed her, swinging her around to throw Sara up against the wall of the yacht. But Sara used the motion to swing Nadine instead, turning herself and breaking out of the grip. Sara, with her back to Nadine, kicked out the woman's shin, Nadine jolting forward at the wall, yet her hands moved ahead of her to brace herself against the wall.

"You're only serving to piss me off more." Nadine hissed, shoving off the wall and facing the American woman.

Sara turned around and shrugged at Nadine. "Not very hard to do," Nadine swore as she charged at Sara, the brunette focusing on the offensive, dodging and moving out of the way of Nadine's hits rather than fighting the woman. Nadine had years of experience with her, so she knew she could not win a fight with the woman. All Sara could do was try to tire her out.

Nadine was getting angrier. Her attacks were more forceful and aggressive, almost swinging wildly as she just wanted to hit the annoying brunette. Nadine didn't care at that point that Rafe had ordered that no harm come to Sara. She simply just wanted to put her down. Sara and her gang of annoying friends were nothing more than an inconvenience, something that Nadine could rid herself of, but Rafe kept being lenient. Nadine smiled when she finally landed a hit, her elbow connecting to Sara's gut, forcing the woman's back into the railing. Sara groaned out from the pain in her stomach and back. Nadine launched forward, forcing Sara back over the railing, Nadine's forearm crushing her throat. Sara struggled to breathe, her hands clawing at the woman's arm, desperate to get the Brit off her neck. It made Nadine apply more pressure, the gratification too strong.

"Nadine."

Her smile dropped as the pressure subsided. Nadine looked to her left, spotting Rafe. The man stood with his arms behind his back, a commanding smile on his handsome face. Nadine grunted, reapplying a moment of pressure to the brunette's neck before finally backing off.

Sara fell forward onto her knees, coughing and gripping her throat. She rubbed at the tender flesh. "Look's like daddy is upset with mummy…" She rasped out. Nadine yelled, moving to kick the fallen woman in the stomach, but Rafe's booming voice stopped her.

Nadine turned quickly on Rafe, storming up close to the man and pointing accusingly at his chest. "This is a bad idea, Rafe. This bitch–" She gestured to Sara. "–will only be a hindrance."

Rafe smiled, having never taken his eyes off the British woman. "As long as I'm paying for your services, you'll do as I say." His tone was threatening. While it didn't scare Nadine, it made her back off. Swearing under her breath, she stormed past Rafe, slamming her shoulder into his. Rafe moved his hazel eyes to Sara, the brunette sitting back against the railing, still breathing hard. "I ordered you to behave."

"I did for a while. The room didn't agree with me."

Rafe sighed, rubbing at the space between his eyes. He helped Sara to her feet, against her wishes, and dragged her with him. "I made a mistake forgetting about that lockpick. You will hand it over, or I can search you for it." He whispered huskily into her ear. "You're choice." Sara bit her lip. She didn't want to answer him. The response would be sarcastic, and it would only spur him on. "Search it is, then."

Sara closed her eyes, groaning internally. She let Rafe pull her along, not bothering to fight against him as he took her somewhere else, up to the second floor of the yacht. He opened the door to a room, shoving her in, and followed her, locking the door behind them. He stared at her expectantly. "What?" Sara asked, scoffing at the man.

"The lockpick. Sara." Rafe took careful steps towards her, smirking as she stepped away from him, matching him step for step until her back hit the far wall. "I told you I won't hesitate to search you." Sara rolled her eyes as her hand went down her shirt, removing the lockpick and tossing it at the smug bastard. She ignored the disappointment on his face as she quickly handed the small flimsy metal over. The man had wanted to search her, giddy at the thought of running his hands over her body once more.

When he stepped away with the lockpick, moving to an open wardrobe with a safe inside, Sara took in the room. It was a bedroom, unlike the one she'd been tossed into earlier. This one was more elaborate, with more furniture and a bigger bed. Past the wardrobe was a door that she assumed led to an ensuite that was just as elaborate as the room. She walked over to a desk opposite the bed, her eyes raking over the documents cluttering the surface, some images taken from Sullivan's phone. Sara's head snapped to Rafe as he was locking the safe. She was in his bedroom. The smug piece of shit had taken her to his private bedroom.

"You know, Nathan has been a bigger thorn in my side than I expected." He turned to her, smiling as he saw her standing by his desk. "My offer still stands, Sara."

Sara scoffed loudly. "I told you I can't be bought, Rafe."

"Yes…" He nodded, stepping towards her. "You've demonstrated time and time again that you have no care for wealth. You live in a tiny affordable apartment strategically picked so you could travel to and from your average income job at The Historic New Orleans Collection. You studied at Standford, fully paid by your parents, paid for Nathan Drake's exploits with a barely touched trust fund." Rafe stood in front of her now, watching as her arms crossed over her chest as she frowned at him, not pleased with his commentary. "You want to discover. Not for fame or money, but because it is history."

Her frown somewhat lessened as he spoke. Rafe wasn't wrong. It's what she always wanted. For history to be discovered and shared. "Be that as it may, Rafe, I can't betray Nate. I have too much history with him to do that to the man."

"I can respect that." Rafe pursed his lips as he nodded. Sitting back on his desk. "I have spent the last fifteen years looking for this treasure. Initially, I invested much into supporting Nathan and Samuel, just as you did with your trust fund. Only he abandoned me."

"He was grieving, Rafe…" Sara sighed, rubbing her hand down her face as she stepped away from him, her back to the man. "He thought Sam died. It broke him." Rafe continued to watch her. "I'm sorry your business relationship ended with him the way it did…" She turned back to face the man, seeing him still sitting at the desk.

"But…?" He asked, the words rolling off his tongue.

Sara chuckled briefly, rolling her eyes. "The only reason he's back looking for Avery's treasure, after being retired for three years, is because Sam got broken out of prison after fifteen years by Hector Alcazar, and now the man is demanding half as payment—" Rafe was laughing, hard, as he was practically kneeling over himself. Sara stared at him in bewilderment. "You don't believe me?"

"No…I believe you, but not Samuel." He stated, trying to calm himself. "So that's the lie he told to bring Nathan back into the fold."

"Lie?" Sara barked, taking a threatening step towards Rafe.

He raised a hand, placating the woman. "Well, for starters, Hector Alcazar died six months ago in a shootout in Argentina. I bought Samuel his freedom two years ago. Up until two months ago, he was working for me. He's the one that tracked down the second cross." Sara's mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words. She wanted to yell at Rafe and curse the man for trying to confuse her with his lies. He seemed to understand. He stood, pulling out a laptop from one of the desk draws and opening it. He began typing away, bringing up some files on the screen. "Take a look."

Sara watched as Rafe stepped away from the desk, giving her access to the laptop. She moved to it with hesitant steps while not taking her green eyes off of him. She bent down over the machine, trailing her middle finger over the touchpad as she read through the documents. They were emails between Rafe and Samuel, dating back nearly two years, just as Rafe had said. She leaned in closer, exiting the documents and pouring through the files on the laptop, finding only more evidence that Samuel had indeed been working with Rafe, evidence that couldn't have been faked, such as recorded and timestamped video calls. Lastly, she opened up the internet, searching for Hector Alcazar. The drug lord was dead. A newspaper recording that he had been shot and killed in Argentina six months ago while having a run-in with local police. She slammed the lid of the device closed, her hands braced on the desk on either side of the laptop as her blood rushed through her body.

Samuel had lied. Lied about everything. Sara's eyes closed as the tears began to prickle her eyes, the emotions getting to her. At that moment, she didn't care that Rafe was watching her. She pushed herself away from the desk, the force knocking it briefly against the wall. Her breathing was heavy as the rage began to bubble under her skin.

"Sara…?" Rafe asked, reaching for the woman.

The moment his hand touched the skin of her upper arm, she jerked away from him, eyes shooting open as she stared at him. Rafe could see it then. The rage and betrayal that was fighting to come to the surface. "He fucking used us." She seethed. "He used Nate's guilt to pull him out of retirement and has been using us the whole fucking time just so he could get rich?!" Rafe watched her as she began to pace. Her steps rushed as her hands raked themselves through her long brown hair. "Nate left his job. His wife. All because he thought he was saving Sam. I mean, Nate blamed himself for Panama! Fuck! He never liked talking about Sam to anyone. He never even told his wife about Sam!"

Rafe stepped forward to grab Sara as her movements became more frantic. Still, she tried shoving him off again, making him grab both of her upper arms and shove her back against the far wall, her head almost smacking at the hard surface in the process.

"This is your fault!" Sara seethed, trying to break out of his grip.

"My fault?" Rafe raised a brow at her, scoffing at her words. He pulled his face down to her, so he could look into her eyes as he retorted. "If Samuel had been a good boy and done as he was ordered, you and Nathan would still be off living your lives!"

"If you!" She screeched, glaring at the man. "Had fucking left him to rot in that prison, none of us would be dealing with that man's fuck ups!"

Rafe gaze hardened on the woman. His fingers were bruising into her skin as he gripped her arms harder. His breathing was hard as he tried to remain poised, not letting his anger reach the surface as it did for her. In an instant, his lips were on her, his mouth claiming the supple lips. Sara fought against him at the start, biting at his lower lip to get him off of her, but it only spurred him on, his kisses becoming more forceful. Sara found her body giving in, a weak moan pulling from the back of her throat. Rafe used the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, a smile spreading across his face as she sucked on the welcomed appendage. He pinned her up against the wall with his body, the closeness of his form crushing her into the solid surface as they continued to kiss. Sara moaned again when Rafe finally let go of her arms, allowing her hands to rake into that damned hair of his, ruining the effect the gel created to hold the strands in place. Rafe wasted no time moving his dominant hand up her shirt, gripping her left breast and squeezing the mound hard, rewarding him with a breathy moan from Sara. But he wanted more. Needed more.

Slipping his hand down her stomach, ignoring her moans of protest, Rafe gripped the hem of her t-shirt in bother hands, only breaking the kiss briefly to remove the offending fabric. His lips worked their way down her jaw, stopping at the sensitive skin of her neck that he loved to bite and suck. Sara wondered if it was his favourite part of her body or if the man just wanted to mark her like a trophy. She couldn't have her hands around his neck long, as he interrupted her again when he could unclasp her bra, removing the obscuring fabric and bringing his mouth to her chest. Sara swore as she arched her back into his touch, his hot mouth perfect on one perked breast as his hand teased the other.

Her head rolled back again as she breathed out his name, earning a groan from him against her nipple. Sara was panting as she struggled to control herself, the room beginning to feel too hot and stuffy. Rafe pulled himself away from the whimpering woman, admiring the marks he left from her mouth to her breasts. He removed his shirt as the heat began to get to him too. Sara took the opportunity to admire the fine dark hairs that littered his chest, moving down to the top of his belt and lower into his pants, casting her eyes onto the growing bulge.

"No one will interrupt us this time." Rafe grabbed her by the throat, grip bruising as he forced his lips on her again, Sara mewling into the kiss. She wasn't aware of herself when her hands went to fiddle with his belt, only noticing when Rafe scolded and forced her around, pressing her up against the wall, the surface cooling on her flushed skin. "Who says I should reward you just yet?" His hands moved to her pants, undoing her button and zip and pulling them and her underwear down her legs. While crouching behind her, he helped her out of her shoes before rising, kicking off his own in the process. His hands moved up her legs, fringers bruising into the skin as they found their way to her ass, gripping and massaging before they moved around to her front. "Is this what you thought about when I touched you in Scotland? To have my hands on you with no clothes between us?" He rasped into her right ear, kissing the shell.

Sara moaned, her legs spreading under his touch as his dominant hand found her core as his left held her in place by her hips. "Yes…fucking yes, Rafe…" Her eyes were closed as she panted out the answer, her spine tingling as his deep chuckle ran through her. Sara's fingertips pressed into the wall as the middle finger of his right hand found the swollen bud of her core, pressing lightly as he danced around the bud with his digit. Sara was a moaning mess as she tried to contain herself under Rafe's stimulations. Her body craved the actions, but it was not enough to get the job done. "Please…Rafe…"

Rafe chuckled again against her ear. "I like hearing you beg, Sara." He pressed a little harder, enjoying how she reacted to the touch. "Do you want me to raw you, Sara?" Sara swore. She cursed Emma for using that expression, and more so now that Rafe was using those words against her. "Yes or no?" The pressure lessened when he didn't get the response he wanted.

"Yes!"

"Say it. Say you want me to raw you." The pressure didn't change. It was still teasing. Rafe was still teasing. He wanted that answer, wanted her to submit to him, body and soul.

Sara groaned, trying to grind her hips onto his hand, but he kept her in place with his left. "Fuck…Rafe…I want you to raw me–" Sara's eyes shot open as she felt his fingers enter her without warning, a strangled moan leaving her lips as he pumped her core, his thumb pressing hard against her clit. He still wouldn't let her move, wouldn't let her choose the pace her body needed. Rafe was deciding how he'd fuck her. His hand was rough as he fucked her, not caring if it was actually getting her off or not. He was listening to how her body responded to him, how she panted and mewled under his touch, knowing when to change the position of his fingers and pace.

"You're so wet, Sara." He breathed hotly into her ear. "You're close, aren't you? You're becoming such a whimpering mess." He could feel the way she pulsed around his fingers. She was close to coming. So deliciously close. "Just this from my fingers. Just wait until I've got my cock in you." Those final whispers caused the band to snap, her fingers scratching into the wall as her body shook, a gutted moan ripping from her parted lips. Rafe laughed as he pulled his hand away from the apex of her thighs, the woman going limp as he guided her to his awaiting bed. He tossed her so she fell flat onto her stomach, her senses so dulled by the orgasm that she hadn't heard him undoing his belt and pants. Rafe kicked the article aside, climbing onto the bed behind Sara. He laughed again as he took in how relaxed she'd become. Grabbing either side of her hips, he dragged her onto her knees, her ass resting just below his erect member. Rafe positioned her head to the side, her arms splayed before her. Latching onto her left wrist harshly, Rafe gripped her hip with his right, letting go only briefly as he guided himself to her core. He let out a hiss as the tip entered her warmth, his right hand returning to her hip as he entered her fully.

Sara was moaning below him as she felt him stretch her out. As she went to arch her back, his hand left her hip, pressing down to hold her chest flat against the bed. Her hands gripped the bedding below her, a swear leaving her lips. "Be a good girl, and I will reward you." Rafe chuckled, his hips beginning to pound into her from behind, Sara nearly yelping with each rough thrust. Rafe managed to keep up a rough and hard pace, slamming into her as he rutted her from behind. He was smug with each sound he pulled from her pouty little mouth. Rafe's grip on her wrist and back became harder. Sara knew there would be bruising the next day. But at the moment, neither one cared. Her eyes were closed as she let Rafe fuck her senseless from behind, her body relishing in the first ounce of sexual stimulation it had received from another in over three years. It wasn't hard for Rafe to have difficulties in the bedroom. A man of his background had many women throwing themselves at him, just the prospect of possibly getting pregnant or being a good enough bed partner for the man to keep them around and shower them with his vast fortune. But Rafe got off on the challenge Sara posed. Despite his charm and wealth, she did her best to reject him at every turn. And she wasn't some stupid woman who only cared about having the best and most expensive. No, Sara sought knowledge most of all.

"Tell me, Sara," Rafe hissed, his eyes struggling to stay open as his release neared. "What would Nathan and Samuel think if they see you now, mewling under me like a cat in heat?" He smiled when she struggled to answer him, her voice coming out as nothing more than a collection of moans and groans. But they both knew the answer. Nathan and Samuel would be greatly disappointed in her. While Rafe enjoyed the thought. Sara, knowing those two as her biological brothers, would be disgusted. Especially Samuel.

"Don't ruin this!" Sara seethed, frowning when the only response she got from Rafe was him laughing. She was close. The delicious band was building in her gut, and she didn't need thoughts of her brothers to ruin it. "Rafe…so close…"

"Want me to make you come?" His hand left her back, moving around her belly and towards her clit. "You have been a good girl. Beg me." He hissed, his thrusts becoming frantic. "Beg me to make you come."

"Please, Rafe." Sara moaned, a smile widening across her face as she felt his fingers find the sensitive bud. "Please, make me come, Rafe." Sara didn't take long to reach her orgasm, her body shaking under his as she came, a loud moan ripping from her throat. Rafe's head fell backward, mouth open in a silent moan as her orgasm clenched around him, bringing him to the brink. His hips sputtered as he came. Sara chewed her bottom lip, relishing in the high of her climax. She groaned as Rafe removed himself from her core, pausing to run a hand through his hair, slicking the loose strands back with sweat.

"You took me so well." He chuckled, patting her ass. Rafe reached down a hand to grip the front of her throat, pulling her up so her naked back met his chest, the dampened hairs of his chest scratching at her back. Angling her head, their lips met, the kissing just as bruising as it had been at the start. Rafe ended up pulling her down with him into the sheets, his hands once against exploring her body as they continued to kiss as sleep took them both.

When Rafe awoke the following day, lying on his stomach, he hadn't been expecting to find himself alone in bed and the space beside him cold. Sitting up, he frowned at the empty space but turned towards the front of the bed, towards his desk, when he heard the sounds of papers ruffling. Sara was leaning over the table, dressed in his shirt, while pouring over the documents left there. She either didn't bother to greet him or was too engrossed in her work to hear him when he got out of bed and walked up behind her. She jumped flighty when she felt his hands grip either side of her hips, Rafe placing a caste kiss just behind the shell of her right ear.

"Most people sleep in the morning after or go for another round." He whispered huskily to her, smiling when her shoulders raised in reaction to his breath tickling her neck. "Not surprised to find your head stuck into research. I take it this means you've changed your mind?"

Sara put the document she held down and turned in his arms, facing him. "I have conditions." He nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Nate and Sullivan go free, no injuries."

"And Samuel?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "I'm half tempted just to let you shoot him. At this point in time, I'm still too mad to have appropriate thoughts on how to handle Sam." Rafe chuckled at her statement.

"Very well, I agree to those terms."

Sara nodded to him, happy that he agreed. "Curious about what I put together?" Rafe hummed, his head angling to kiss her neck. Sara smiled as he tasted the sensitive flesh, moving her neck to give him better access, her eyes closing. "'Pro Deus quod licentia' means 'For god and Liberty', but I don't think it's just a motto. Nate and I were working on the theory that Henry Avery was working together with other infamous pirates, hauling their wealth together. But they'd need a safe haven. 'Libertalia'. A pirate stronghold."

Rafe pulled himself away from her neck to look at Sara, her eyes opening as she felt his lips leave her throat. "A pirate stronghold?"

"Yes." Sara beamed. She reached back behind her, gathering up some documents to show him. "Twelve watchtowers, so twelve pirates." She began listing off the pirates in accordance with the files taken from Sullivan's phone. Henry Avery, Thomas Tew, Joseph Farrell, Anne Bonny, Christopher Condent, Edward England, Adam Baldridge, Guy Wood, Tariq bin Malik, William Mayes, Yazid al-Basra, and Richard Want. "It was coming to the end of the great pirate era, and pirates were being hunted down left and right. It makes sense for them to team up and pool everything they have."

"I thought alliances between pirates were a myth."

"They were. That's what makes this such a historical find!" Sara continued to smile, her green eyes lighting up from excitement. "A successful pirate alliance and colony? It's unheard of."

Rafe nodded. "And where is this colony?"

Sara shuffled through the documents in her hand, holding up a map to Rafe. "Here, Turtle Island, located northeast of King's Bay. It's notorious for shipwrecks and deemed unexplored. The perfect place for seasoned pirates to hide."

He took the map off her, studying it for himself before dumping it onto the desk. Stepping away from her, he moved to his discarded pants and pulled out his phone. "Nadine," His hazel eyes flicked to Sara as he spoke. "We have a location. Turtle Island."

"You sure the woman isn't lying?"

Rafe moved steadily back to Sara, standing chest-to-chest with the brunette. "She isn't. Everything matches up."

"Fine. I'll order the men to set sail there immediately."

"Good." He ended the call, tossing the phone onto the desk behind Sara. He took the documents she was still holding, placing them down with the others. "We have a few hours to spare," Rafe whispered huskily, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt that she wore too well.

"You have an idea to pass the time?" Sara raised her hands without fuss, letting him remove the fabric from her form. He gripped the back of her neck harshly as he tossed the shirt to the ground, his lips just millimetres from her own. The actions made her moan in expectation.

"An encore."