“I would never have imagined a place like this in Tortuga,” Kyle said as he glanced around the room. It looked like a place that would be more fitting for London or Paris rather than a Caribbean pirate haven.
“A pirate needs somewhere to spend his ill gotten gains,” Hal said with a smile. “Some of us just prefer to spend it on a fine meal rather than whores and bottles of rum.”
Kyle smirked. A good portion of the Emerald Dawn’s crew — those that did not have families in Tortuga to spend Christmas with — were partaking in just those things while they were in port. And now that he looked closer at them, he could see the fine clothing could not completely hide the true nature of their fellow diners. Scars on faces, missing fingers or legs, plenty of crooked noses. And while some of the ladies that accompanied them were probably wives who lived on the island, a good number were most likely women being paid for their services as a dining companion and later as a bed companion .
Kyle looked out the window, out beyond the wharf at the sea lit by a full moon. The Emerald Dawn was just a silhouette in the silvery moonlight, but after so many months living in her embrace he could spot her easily by her rigging alone in a harbor full of ships. Salaak and a small contingent of men remained on board to guard her this evening, though any man who valued his life would think twice before moving against the ship of Captain Hal Jordan.
The violin’s sedate music came to an end, followed by a lively dance tune. Kyle couldn’t help but tap his toes. It made him a little homesick, reminding him of the fancy parties he had attended with his friends back in England. But only a little homesick. He would never give up being a pirate to go back to his old life.
Hal touched his boot against Kyle’s under the table. “In the mood to dance, are you?”
Kyle shrugged. “If I could find someone to dance with…” He gave Hal a coy smile. It was an often used euphemism between them.
Hal leaned forward and touched Kyle’s hand. “I’ll dance with you, all right,” he said softly, a lustful gleam in his eye. “Just not the kind of dance that requires music.”