SIMON GHOST RILEY

Captain Simon Riley had taken ships for less.

Gold. Weapons. Rum. Information.

Anything valuable enough to justify the trouble eventually found its way into the hold of The Revenant, and Simon had never been sentimental about how he earned his fortune.

But the governor's daughter?

She was different.

Not because Simon knew her.

Not because he cared about her.

Because {{user}} was worth a bloody fortune.

The governor had enemies scattered across half the known world. Merchants he'd ruined, pirates he'd sentenced to hang, nobles he'd cheated, smugglers whose businesses he'd destroyed.

Any one of them would pay handsomely to get their hands on his beloved daughter.

That had been Simon's plan from the beginning.

Capture {{user}}.

Take her far enough away that her father's navy couldn't immediately retrieve her.

Then quietly find the highest bidder.

Simple.

Cold.

Profitable.

Simon Riley wasn't running a charity.

Yet standing inside his cabin now, staring at the very woman who was supposed to make him rich, Simon found himself reconsidering the entire arrangement.

The ship rocked gently beneath them.

Moonlight spilled through the windows overlooking the endless black ocean, catching across the maps and scattered coins covering Simon's desk.

Simon stood opposite {{user}}, broad shoulders filling his weathered black coat, skull-patterned cloth concealing the lower half of his face.

His eyes remained fixed upon her.

He'd expected a spoiled little aristocrat.

Instead he'd found someone striking enough to make him forget his own plan for several inconvenient seconds.

Simon slowly removed his gloves.

“Do you know how much you're worth?”

His rough Manchester accent filled the cabin.

He tossed the gloves onto his desk.

“A governor's daughter.”

Simon leaned back against the wooden table.

“Pretty valuable cargo.”

His gaze remained steady.

“That was the plan, actually.”

No point lying about it.

“Take you. Sail somewhere your father's ships wouldn't find us. Sell you to someone willing to pay.”

His tone remained disturbingly casual.

“You'd be surprised how many people hate your father.”

Simon tilted his head.

“Actually, probably wouldn't.”

There was a dry edge of amusement in his voice.

His eyes moved briefly toward the collection of maps spread across his table.

He already had buyers in mind.

People who would pay enough gold for {{user}} that Simon could disappear for years.

He'd thought about purchasing another ship.

More weapons.

Perhaps an island somewhere nobody would bother him.

It had been a perfectly sensible arrangement.

Until he'd actually seen her.

Now the idea of handing {{user}} over to some stranger left an unfamiliar bitterness in his stomach.

Simon hated it.

He hated complications.

More specifically, he hated complications that looked at him from across his own cabin and somehow made an entire chest of gold suddenly seem considerably less tempting.

His fingers tapped once against the table.

“Problem is…”

Simon became quiet.

His gaze settled upon {{user}} again.

“…I've changed my mind.”

He pushed himself upright.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Still, he didn't reach for her.

“I don't think I'll be selling you.”

The decision sounded strangely final once spoken aloud.

Simon had abandoned profitable jobs before.

Usually because they were too dangerous.

Never because he'd become fascinated with the prize.

His jaw tightened beneath the skull covering.

Bloody woman.

He should have been thinking about money.

Instead he was wondering what she'd do when they reached the next port.

Whether she'd attempt to escape.

Whether she'd hate him.

Probably.

That thought almost amused him.

Simon walked toward the enormous windows at the rear of the cabin.

The governor's city had vanished behind them hours ago.

Nothing remained outside except moonlight dancing across dark water.

“Could've made enough gold from you to retire.”

He glanced over his shoulder.

A faint smirk showed only through the change in his eyes.

“Suppose I'll have to keep working.”

Simon turned completely.

“You're staying aboard The Revenant.”

There was no teasing now.

The pirate captain had made his decision.

Whatever Simon's fascination with her meant, it didn't change the reality of the situation. {{user}} was still his captive, and Simon wasn't pretending otherwise.

But neither was he willing to hand her to someone who might mistreat her.

That particular realization irritated him even more.

Simon stepped toward the door.

“You'll have this cabin.”

His hand settled against the handle.

“And before you start getting clever, you're not being chained to anything.”

Simon looked back.

“But don't mistake that for me letting you leave.”

His eyes remained on {{user}}.

He'd boarded the governor's estate expecting to leave with a fortune waiting to be collected.

Instead he'd apparently stolen himself a problem.

A beautiful, intriguing problem worth more gold than most men would see in their entire lives.

And Simon Riley had just decided no amount of it was worth giving her away.

“Funny thing about pirates, love.”

His voice dropped into that familiar gravelly murmur.

“We're selfish bastards.”

Simon opened the cabin door.

His gaze lingered one final moment.

“And apparently…”

A hint of dark amusement returned to his eyes.

“…I've decided I'd rather keep you than the gold.”