Free How To Please a Pirate by Mia Marlowe

the keys and chatelaine of Dragon Caern. In the world
of Gabriel Drake’s kiss, she soared free, giving and receiving this
strangely pleasing ache without care.
    And wasn’t that the oddest thing? How could a
dull throb feel so good? It must be part of the madness of the
place, she reasoned dimly.
    In the circle of Gabriel’s arms, Jacquelyn
might be anyone she wished. A lady of noble birth, someone’s
beloved, someone’s naughtiest dream, or all three at once.
    She’d seen it in his eyes.
    She tore her lips from his and looked at him
again.
    For a blink, Jacquelyn was sure she saw her
mother’s reflection. Isabella Wren smiled back at her with
kiss-swollen lips.
    Reason rushed back into her. There was no
magic here. Only animal lust.
    And the betrayal that follows in the wake of
its satisfaction.
    “No,” she gasped.
    Jacquelyn tore herself from his arms and ran
from the garden.
    * * *
    “Jacquelyn, wait.” Gabriel stood and took a
step after her. Then he stopped himself. What was he going to do?
Force her.
    Yes, damn it! his cock demanded.
    Everything was going so well. Far better than
he’d hoped. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to set her off, but he’d
give anything to call the moment back.
    Anything but his pride.
    Gabriel sank back onto the bench with an
explosive sigh. If she didn’t want him, he bloody well wasn’t going
to chase after her.
    The deuce of it was, he was sure she had wanted him. Wanted him very much. What on earth had he
done to change that?
    He clenched his fists and studied the silver
buckles on his shoes for the count of ten. If he lived to be a
hundred, he’d never understand the dizzying fizzle that went on in
a woman’s brain. He dragged a hand over his face and looked up.
    Into the faces of five women in
miniature.
    Five pairs of green eyes that looked
suspiciously like feminine versions of his brother’s. They all
stared at him accusingly.
    “Ah,” he said in sudden comprehension. “The
Misses Drake, I presume.”
    His nieces stood in a semi-circle before him,
arms crossed over their girlish chests, pale brows lowered. From
smallest to tallest, they formed a neat staircase of feminine
disapproval.
    “Why you bite Miss Jack?” the littlest one
demanded. Clear-eyed and toe-headed, she couldn’t have been much
more than four years old. “Mrs. B. tan your bottom if you bite
somebody.” She rubbed a hand on her own posterior as if it still
stung from some paddling she’d received for an infraction of the
‘no biting’ rule.
    “Hush, Lily,” the tallest hissed.
    She leaned down to frown at the child, then
straightened to her full height to glare at him. The crown of her
head probably wouldn’t reach Gabriel’s armpit, he decided. Her
little bodice was snug over breasts like ripe figs. More than a
child, but not yet a woman, her oval face held the promise of
beauty. She’d be a handful in a few seasons for whoever was
responsible for guarding her purity.
    With a start, Gabriel realized that ‘whoever’
was him . As baron of Dragon Caern, he was in charge of his
nieces’ upbringing, making sure their education and accomplishments
matched their station. Ultimately, he’d have to see them wed. These
girls were under his protection now. Short of locking them in their
chambers when they began attracting men, he had no idea how to go
about it.
    The oldest one looked down her pert nose at
her siblings.
    “He wasn’t biting her,” his niece explained.
“He was trying to ‘com-pro-mise’ her. That’s what Mrs. Beadle would
call it.” She narrowed her eyes at him in a perfect imitation of
the housekeeper at her scowling best.
    Perhaps he’d lock this one up sooner.
    “You think you know so much, Hyacinth,” the
second tallest jabbed her older sister with a sharp-looking elbow.
“Just because you caught Timothy with the dairy maid when they
didn’t know you were in the loft. If you hadn’t interrupted them,
you’d have learned far more. For your information,