“Of course,” Ace responded. “They know the rules. You won’t see nor smell pirate for the next four days.”

Abilio nodded, his eyes surveying the boat appreciatively.

“Well, when you’re settled here, come inside for some lunch,” he said. “I’ll have places set for the three of you.” He gestured toward Theo and Yarrow, who waved in his direction.

“Make it four,” Ace said.

Half an hour later, the crew had all set off into Porto and The Valerian was being looked after by Abilio’s staff. Zander followed Ace, Theo, and Yarrow up the cobblestone walkway toward Abilio’s home, where a servant was waiting to open the door for them. Inside, a long mahogany table held five settings and a veritable feast. The scent of piri piri peppers, garlic, and warm bread made Zander’s mouth water.

Ace, Theo, and Yarrow didn’t hesitate to make themselves comfortable at the table. Theo even propped his feet up on the empty chair next to him, stretching luxuriously. Yarrow leveled an incredulous look at him that made him laugh, and the sound summoned Abilio from an adjacent room.

Zander waited to sit until Abilio approached, taking the opportunity to shake his hand before joining his friends at the table.

“And who is this?” Abilio said as he grasped Zander’s hand. “A new member of the inner circle?”

“I’m Zander,” he responded. “It’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for the warm welcome.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Zander,” Abilio said, gesturing for him to sit as he took his own seat at the head of the table. “Any friend of Aracely’s is welcome in my home.”

“How is it you know each other?” Zander asked, sitting next to Ace, who already had her plate full of food and was eagerly tucking in.

“I’ve known Aracely since she was this tall,” Abilio said, holding his hand about three feet off the ground. “Her parents were friends of mine, and business associates.”

“What is it you do?” Zander asked, curious to know what afforded such splendor, and how Ace’s parents were involved.

Abilio shrugged, but he smiled at the other three pirates as if he had a secret. “Oh, some of this, some of that,” he said. “But it was tobacco that brought Chandace and Nicolas into my life.” He looked from Zander to Ace now, smiling fondly. “Your parents always brought me the best tobacco, and the best stories!” He laughed. “They had more fun together than any couple I’ve ever known. It was a shame when they retired.”

“Aye,” Ace agreed. “It was. But they continued having fun, I assure you. It was just…” Ace waved her hands in the air, looking for the word. “…more socially acceptable fun.”

Abilio laughed at that and lifted his glass in salute.

“I never thought I’d see you again after your parents sold me that sloop,” Abilio said.

He turned to Zander again.

“She showed up at my front door one day with nothing but the clothes on her back and the most beautiful piece of treasure I’d ever seen.” He spread his hands apart slightly, as if imagining the treasure in his hands. “A dagger, its hilt covered in the most perfect emeralds you’ve ever seen, and a matching sheath. It was a weapon of such beauty and craftsmanship, I knew right away it was more valuable than anything I owned. And do you know what she wanted in exchange?”

Zander shook his head. “What was it?” he asked.

Abilio pointed his finger toward the back of the house and the bay beyond it.

“Nothing but that old boat,” he answered, slapping his knee with the other hand as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Ace rolled her eyes, but the hint of a smile remained on her face as she interrupted his story. “That boat, and your secrecy,” she reminded him.

“Yes, yes,” Abilio said. “Of course, my darling! I assume your secrets are safe in present company?” He eyed Zander warily now, apparently wondering if he’d made a mistake.

Ace squeezed Zander’s hand over the table.

“They are,” she said.

Abilio smiled fondly at the gesture before he continued.

“I had to practically force her to take supplies with her, and a bit of gold. ‘There must be something else you want!’ I told her. ‘I can’t let you leave with nothing but a hunk of wood and some rations after what you’ve brought me!’ She thought for a moment and finally said, ‘It would seem I’m without a blade now, Abilio. How about that one?’ And she pointed to that ivory cutlass you see on her hip, once displayed over my desk. ‘A blade for a blade,’ she said. As if we were even.”

Ace smiled at him and drained her cup. “We are even, Abilio,” she said as she set it back down.

Abilio shook his head in response. “We’ll never be even, little Aracely. We’re family.”

The four of them left Abilio’s home at dusk after a pleasant few hours of food, wine, and conversation. Ace fended off his insistence that he send them into town in one of his carriages, claiming they needed to walk after such a large meal. Zander was grateful for the suggestion as they strolled through cobblestone streets, the lanterns lining them being lit as they went, the smell of grilled sardines filling the air. Theo and Yarrow made quick goodbyes, entering a tavern that seemed to be a favorite and leaving Ace and Zander to themselves.

“Would you like to walk a bit more?” Ace asked him. “Or should we find ourselves a room?”

Zander noticed the way her eyes narrowed slightly when she spoke, how her mouth curved to the side. He pulled her against him so he could nip at her ear before whispering, “Let’s find ourselves a bed.”

Ace smiled and took his hand, leading him deeper into the city. He lost track of the winding paths as they went, focused only on the way the white feather she’d tied in her hair that morning fluttered behind her as she walked, the way her hips swayed as she dodged moving carts and running children.

They finally arrived at a small inn Ace seemed to know. It was in a busy square, filled with the sounds of laughter, conversation, and the sizzling of food as it cooked. Pop-up eateries dotted the space, and people gathered around them on mismatched stools, eating. It was the most noise Zander had heard in months, and it filled every corner of his head.

Good, he thought. He planned on being very loud tonight.

The bottom floor of the inn was like a microcosm of the noise from outside. Tables filled the empty space, each one crowded with people who ate, and drank, and laughed boisterously. Tendrils of smoke hung lazily in the air. Ace located a woman who appeared to be in charge and arranged for a room, after which they were directed up a small set of stairs to the second floor.

The room was small. The bed, a small table with a single lit candle, and a wash basin took up most of the space. The window was open, a warm breeze wafting in and carrying the sounds of the evening inside. Zander removed his boots and closed it, drawing the curtains tightly.

When he turned back to Ace, the light from the flickering flame was playing against her skin, casting her beauty in an unearthly glow that took his breath away. He wished he could capture this moment. He wanted to engrave it in his mind—everything from the lines of her muscular arms to the thick curve of her brow.

She reached her hand out, inviting him, and for a moment he imagined her edges shifting in the dim light, as if she were an illusion. He let out a breath and closed the space between them, relieved to find she was solid as he placed his calloused hand in hers.

Leaning forward, pulling her close to him, he kissed her tenderly. She breathed in deeply as their kiss deepened, growing in passion. Zander cupped his hands around her face, desperate to keep her right there, right where he could see her. One hand moved to her neck, then her waist. Her own hands roamed hungrily along his back, her fingernails gently pushing into his skin. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him.

He lowered her to the bed, his body covering hers, and she tangled her hands in his hair, pulling hard. He moaned. Pulling his hair was something she did when she wanted more, when she didn’t have the patience to wait.

He wouldn’t make her wait.

He sat up, his shirt coming off as he did. He tugged at her trousers, pulling them roughly off and tossing them aside. She lay there, spread apart for him, unbuttoning her vest and shirt slowly, and he nearly whimpered at the sight.

Her eyes devoured him as he tugged off his belt, and she sat up to take him in her hands as he pulled down his trousers. He groaned and leaned forward to kiss her, his pants still wrapped around his calves as she sank back onto the bed. His erection rubbed against her warmth, throbbing with need. Trembling, he pulled himself away from her kiss and lowered his body, anchoring his head between her legs as he kicked his trousers off.

The feel of her nails in his scalp urged him on. Her thighs opened and closed against his ears, occasionally muffling her beautiful cries, the centerpiece of the symphony of noise that surrounded them. Zander’s entire body flushed with heat when she climaxed, and then she was pulling him toward her, her hand directing him inside, insistent.

He obeyed, burying himself inside her and thrusting desperately, his moans rising in volume until they matched her own. The shaking of the bed against the wall became a rhythmic pulse against the clamor outside, and as he groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping the headboard, he wished he could stay there for the rest of his mortal life.

Later, as they lay happy and tired in each other’s arms, Zander imagined what it would have been like if he met Ace under different circumstances. What would have happened if he were wandering the streets of London, lost in his thoughts as he so often was, and he saw her standing there? He imagined her full lips stretched into a wide smile, set against the backdrop of a cold London morning.

“Have I ever told you about St. Paul’s cathedral?” he asked her.

“No,” Ace said, her voice sleepy. “Something from home?”