her that … What exactly?
That she could do whatever she wanted with Jaidyn; he wasn’t interested in her any longer.
Indeed, that was exactly what he’d do. Then he’d leave and not come back here for a very long time. If ever. Never mind that he once again felt that peculiar shortness of breath and those cold talons wrapping around his heart.
He didn’t knock more than once; he didn’t wait for permission to enter. The more time he lost, the more–
The sight that greeted him stole his breath. And not in a good way.
Madame Poivre was sitting there, smiling extremely foolishly, watching as right that moment Jaidyn, with an exuberant cheerful laugh, embraced a young, bulky man and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Yes! Oh, yes!”
Something indefinably, inexplicably dark roiled inside of Connor. He let out a scathing snort, kicking the door behind him shut with his boot.
“Well, well, well,” he scoffed and all three pairs of eyes settled on him. His lips quirked. “Obviously, she took to her new profession. Who would have thought?”
Madame Poivre stood as if that had been her cue. “O’Driscoll.” She sounded so taken aback that she’d even let her fake French accent fall. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Connor brushed her comment aside with a casualness he didn’t feel. “Of course. It never is. I, more than anyone, would know.”
The older woman’s eyes narrowed and she hitched herself up, hands on her hips. “Watch your tongue. I won’t have you insult anyone’s professional integrity here, or how I run my business.”
Another movement caught his eyes. Jaidyn had left the young man Connor was going to beat into a pulp any moment now, and was sauntering toward him, one proud eyebrow higher than the other. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you,” Connor drawled, meeting Jaidyn’s hard stare straight on.
“Miss Donnelly? Auntie Polly?” The young man showed guts to interfere, Connor had to grant him that.
“Winston, that’s none of your business,” Madame Poivre mumbled in a calming voice.
Connor now noticed the man had some nasty bruises along the left side of his face. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Madame Poivre had told Connor about a young buccaneer, nephew to a certain Auntie Polly, and he’d already suspected then she’d been talking about herself.
Ignoring the women shielding the young man, Connor’s lips twitched into a vicious grin full of teeth. “And you’d be who? Black Eye Winston, the hangman’s next meal?”
At that insult, Winston was about to rush toward Connor, but sadly he was held back by both women.
Madame Poivre murmured, “Perhaps it’s better you leave.”
Jaidyn gave Winston an encouraging nod as she patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t forget what we talked about.”
Winston’s face, distorted in outrage a second before, now softened to an imbecile’s vacant expression. “Never, Miss Donnelly.”
Connor was sure Winston was going to start salivating any moment, so he was resolved to not only break Winston’s nose. Before he was through with him, Connor would castrate him as well.
With a last cunning look at Connor that said “this isn’t over yet,” Winston gave a curt bow. Then he left the room through a hidden door at the rear.
“Captain O’Driscoll, I will not tolerate such brutish behavior here.” Madame Poivre crossed her arms on her ample chest.
Connor’s head turned from the door through which that bugger Winston had left toward the Madame until the full impact of his scowl settled on her.
“Squeamish,
Auntie Polly
?” Connor sneered.
Madame Poivre’s face turned a deep crimson. She narrowed her eyes at him and puffed in agitation. “Preposterous! I must ask you to leave.”
Connor ignored her. “I do believe we had a certain business arrangement that I blindly trusted you to keep.”
“Of course we did. And
That she could do whatever she wanted with Jaidyn; he wasn’t interested in her any longer.
Indeed, that was exactly what he’d do. Then he’d leave and not come back here for a very long time. If ever. Never mind that he once again felt that peculiar shortness of breath and those cold talons wrapping around his heart.
He didn’t knock more than once; he didn’t wait for permission to enter. The more time he lost, the more–
The sight that greeted him stole his breath. And not in a good way.
Madame Poivre was sitting there, smiling extremely foolishly, watching as right that moment Jaidyn, with an exuberant cheerful laugh, embraced a young, bulky man and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Yes! Oh, yes!”
Something indefinably, inexplicably dark roiled inside of Connor. He let out a scathing snort, kicking the door behind him shut with his boot.
“Well, well, well,” he scoffed and all three pairs of eyes settled on him. His lips quirked. “Obviously, she took to her new profession. Who would have thought?”
Madame Poivre stood as if that had been her cue. “O’Driscoll.” She sounded so taken aback that she’d even let her fake French accent fall. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Connor brushed her comment aside with a casualness he didn’t feel. “Of course. It never is. I, more than anyone, would know.”
The older woman’s eyes narrowed and she hitched herself up, hands on her hips. “Watch your tongue. I won’t have you insult anyone’s professional integrity here, or how I run my business.”
Another movement caught his eyes. Jaidyn had left the young man Connor was going to beat into a pulp any moment now, and was sauntering toward him, one proud eyebrow higher than the other. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you,” Connor drawled, meeting Jaidyn’s hard stare straight on.
“Miss Donnelly? Auntie Polly?” The young man showed guts to interfere, Connor had to grant him that.
“Winston, that’s none of your business,” Madame Poivre mumbled in a calming voice.
Connor now noticed the man had some nasty bruises along the left side of his face. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Madame Poivre had told Connor about a young buccaneer, nephew to a certain Auntie Polly, and he’d already suspected then she’d been talking about herself.
Ignoring the women shielding the young man, Connor’s lips twitched into a vicious grin full of teeth. “And you’d be who? Black Eye Winston, the hangman’s next meal?”
At that insult, Winston was about to rush toward Connor, but sadly he was held back by both women.
Madame Poivre murmured, “Perhaps it’s better you leave.”
Jaidyn gave Winston an encouraging nod as she patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t forget what we talked about.”
Winston’s face, distorted in outrage a second before, now softened to an imbecile’s vacant expression. “Never, Miss Donnelly.”
Connor was sure Winston was going to start salivating any moment, so he was resolved to not only break Winston’s nose. Before he was through with him, Connor would castrate him as well.
With a last cunning look at Connor that said “this isn’t over yet,” Winston gave a curt bow. Then he left the room through a hidden door at the rear.
“Captain O’Driscoll, I will not tolerate such brutish behavior here.” Madame Poivre crossed her arms on her ample chest.
Connor’s head turned from the door through which that bugger Winston had left toward the Madame until the full impact of his scowl settled on her.
“Squeamish,
Auntie Polly
?” Connor sneered.
Madame Poivre’s face turned a deep crimson. She narrowed her eyes at him and puffed in agitation. “Preposterous! I must ask you to leave.”
Connor ignored her. “I do believe we had a certain business arrangement that I blindly trusted you to keep.”
“Of course we did. And
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