Renegade by Caroline Lee Read Free Book Online

with cousins and friends when she’d been a little girl, as all children do. But it was her first kiss as a woman. It was the first time a man had kissed her.
    And Lord, what a kiss. What a man! She felt her heart beat faster at the memory, felt heat pool between her legs, and wondered about it. She knew what it meant, thanks to her mother’s open and frank discussions with Becks and her sister, and had even experienced it a few times. But never this strong, and never because of the memory of a man’s kiss.
    With a groan, she flopped over on her side, cradling the pillow in her arms, wondering what it would feel like to be held by him again. What he would’ve done had they been alone under that tree. How far she would’ve let him go…
    How it would have felt.
    It was a long night.
     

     
    Port of Nassau, The Bahamas
    Late April, 1877
     
     
    “You gunna finish that rum?” Robert stood over him with a new bottle, and when Mac looked up in surprise, his friend nodded at the glass on the table. “You’ve been staring at it for a while.”
    Mac’s brows pulled down in concentration. When had Robert left to go up to the bar? He couldn’t recall. He couldn’t recall much from the last hour, which meant that he’d probably already finished enough glasses of rum. Frowning, he leaned back in his chair. “Nah. You want it?”
    Robert shrugged, and pulled the glass towards him. The big black man had a seemingly iron stomach, and Mac had lost more than one drinking contest to him when they’d both been younger. Now they rarely drank to excess, and he knew enough about his limits to know when he was done.
    Slowly, he pulled a bench closer and propped both booted feet up on it with a sigh. He slouched further, resting the back of his head against the rough wood of the tavern wall. There were two whores across the room, pretty enough in a coarse way, but Mac couldn’t drum up enough interest to even flirt. They probably both had syphilis, and when he started thinking that way when he saw a good-looking woman, he could tell that he’d had enough to drink.
    When had Nassau turned so boring? Even drinking in a dive like this—where a fight was usually only moments from erupting, usually over one of those whores—seemed…tiresome.
    “So.” Robert leaned his tall frame against the flimsy chair back, and grimaced for a moment. “Are you angry-drunk or sad-drunk?”
    “Neither.” Mac tried for a cocky grin. “I’m just thinking.”
    “Too bad,” his friend muttered before downing the glass of rum. “I always like you when you’re angry-drunk.”
    “You like to fight, and I’m a convenient excuse.”
    “You’re good at starting fights, at least.”
    It was an old bone between them. Mac had learned to fight from Robert—and Holt—but both men were an inch or two taller than he was. Mac made up for it by being a damned good brawler, and hard to put down. Whereas both his brother and his best friend had learned to control their emotions, Mac had always been passionate… about all sorts of things. That little flaw meant that when he had a little drink in him, he tended to get more offended—and be more offensive—than usual. At least once during every visit to Nassau, Mac would start a fight that Robert gladly joined in.
    Still, he rolled his eyes at his friend. “At least I’m around to finish them.”
    “Mostly upright, even.”
    “Mostly.” His inability to think before he dove into a fight meant that Mac often ended with more bruises and blood than his friend. Although he assumed that was because no one in their right mind would attack Robert when Mac himself was busy attacking.
    “So.” Robert downed the drink in his hand. “You’re not angry-drunk. You must be sad-drunk.”
    “I’m not drunk at all.” Mac was certain that being able to defend himself meant that it was true. Fairly certain.
    “All right, thoughtful-drunk then.” Robert’s humor was subtle, but after years together, Mac knew