The Siren's Song

Welcome to Jennifer Bray-Weber, one of the finest writers to sail the seven...I mean, to put pen to...grrr...to put fingertips to keyboard!

The Siren’s Song Blurb:

Pirate captain Thayer Drake lures ships onto reefs for plunder, and business is lucrative. Yet, saving a lass from drowning after her ship wrecks becomes more than he bargained for when the crazy wench dives back into the raging sea for her blasted purse.

Tavern songstress Gilly McCoy, penniless and fleeing from the man who murdered her lover, stowed away on the doomed ship. Now at Drake's mercy, Gilly must earn her passage by performing for the captain. And that is not all: she must also kiss the captain at every ring of the ship's bell. But she discovers kissing the handsome rogue is not entirely a bad bargain...

Drake is intrigued by the beauty, but there is no room in his black heart for a woman. He has demons that he drinks nightly to forget. Meanwhile, Gilly has her own secrets to keep--including why her purse is more valuable to her than her life...

The Kissing Scene:

The ship’s bell struck and Gilly counted the rings. It was time to pay her debt to the captain. She’d been tallying the bells as they struck every half hour all throughout the watch. Two bells. Her chest tightened. Mixed emotions churned in her stomach. Four bells. She wanted to kiss him, didn’t she? Of course she did. Six bells. Was she supposed to go to him? Where would he be waiting? In his cabin? She glanced at Willie and Henri. They didn’t seem to know of her quandary. She couldn’t ask them for an opinion. How mortifying to think of it. Seven bells. Would she be good at it, good enough for him? How would she compare to others he had kissed? Eight bells. Lord help her, she surely was going to faint.

Before the final peal of the bell faded into the winds, Captain Drake appeared at the top of the ladder. Time slowed as he glided toward her. She slid off her perch and met him halfway.

“Eight bells, milady.”

“I’m ready,” she said. Closing her eyes, she puckered, waiting for his lips to descend upon her. Waiting to inhale his delicious musk. Waiting for his hands to roam across her back and his fingers to thread through her hair. Waiting. Why hadn’t he kissed her yet?

“What’s the lass doin’?” Henri asked. “Is she alright?”

“Maybe the heat’s done gotten to her,” Willie answered.

She popped open one eye. Gone was the captain’s mask of steely austerity. His amusement beamed brighter than the unforgiving sun. The heat couldn’t compare to her swill of embarrassment. Sweat beaded on her brow and she wished with all her heart she could disappear. Why didn’t he kiss her? How idiotic she must look. She huffed, angry now. Mustering up a scrap of dignity, she confronted the cur.

“What’s wrong? Why won’t you kiss me?” She propped her hands on her hips. “Have you gone back on our accord?”

His smug laugh indicated he had not. “I never renege on a deal, Miss McCoy.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You have misinterpreted the terms. Our agreement stated that you kiss me. Not the other way around.”

“Oh.” Won’t death spare me this humiliation?

She was helpless. She had never kissed a man, only been kissed. This changed everything. It simply was not proper. Come now, Gilly. You haven’t been proper since the day Hyde laid eyes upon you. And besides, you want to kiss him.

“All right, Captain Drake. I shall play by your rules.”

She rose to her tiptoes and, quick as a rabbit dashing into a briar patch, she pecked him on his mouth.

“There,” she said. “It’s done. I kissed you.” She grinned a self-satisfied smile. “Come back at the next eight bells. I shall be ready.”

“Uh-uh. Not quite, lass. That’s not at all how I want you to kiss me.”

“A kiss is a kiss.”

“Nay, lass. That is how you kiss a codfish.”

She gasped and her hand flew to her bosom at the insult. “And just how am I supposed to kiss you, Captain? There were no stipulations on the manner of kiss.”

“Kiss me as you did last night.”

She poked him in his chest. “You kissed me.”

“At first, yes. But then you lost your chaste modesty and your voracious appetite took over.”

If she could get her hands on his cutlass, she would end her suffering. Gilly glanced over her shoulder. Both Henri and Willie quickly, but not quickly enough, became occupied, pretending miserably not to have been listening in on their exchange. Henri fiddled with his vest pocket and Willie tapped at the compass he kept fixed to his wheel.

“You need not let shamefulness get the better of you, Miss McCoy. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about,” Captain Drake said.

She frowned. He did not make things any easier by calling her on her discomfiture.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

What a wicked, wicked man. The only way to wipe that smirk from his face was to give him the best kiss he ever had in his wretched life.

Gilly grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and smothered his lips. Long and hard, she pressed against him. He tensed under her grip. His arms reached out, as if to hold her. But he didn’t. Nevertheless, she felt his smile. And that pleased her.

She broke free of him. Excitement coursed through her veins. Liberation was hers. She could do that again. Eight more times, in fact.

“’Twas a very nice start,” he said. “Now don’t look so troubled. I am happy with your kiss. It is my hope that you will work yourself up to last night’s performance.”

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