A flicker of a frown crossed Knigh’s face and his lips flattened. He glanced at her cards, then back at her, his grey eyes narrowing a hair’s breadth. For a man with such controlled expressions, he really should’ve been better at poker.

“Well, my dearest Verity, you appear to have won again.” But he didn’t smile, and the way his eyebrows rose said he learned she’d cheated.

Of course she’d bloody cheated. She was a pirate. What did he expect?

It wasn’t as though he was in any position to lecture her.

“Oh, you two,” Lady Pevensey sighed. “Gazing adoringly at each other.” She smiled and shook her head, hand resting on her chest. Another sigh. “Young love.” She shared a meaningful look with her husband.

With her perfect plum-coloured gown and caramel-gold hair, Lucia Pevensey understood the importance of appearances. However, that understanding didn’t extend to seeing what lay behind them. In the case of Viscount and Viscountess Villiers, it was less young love, more fake marriage of convenience between mortal enemies.

Vice gave Lucia a sweet smile, though, and scooped up her winnings. A few guineas. Some money of her own, and—

A warm grip, a little too hard, fastened around her hand, pressing the coins into her palm.

Knigh.

The hairs on her arms stood on end. She gritted her teeth. His touch had no effect on her. None whatsoever.

Urgh, why did I say he could help me find Drake’s treasure? It had been a stupid, stupid moment of weakness, wanting to help his family … not wanting to say goodbye to him. The way he’d bathed her that night must’ve addled her brain—no one had treated her so gently since she was a child. After all the pain of the gibbet cage, was it any wonder it had messed with her mind and screwed up her judgement? Well, with any luck, he’d be only too happy to leave her to her own devices once they were back in Arawaké.

“Let me help you, my love.” He turned over her hand, exposing the spot up her sleeve where she’d been hiding cards all evening. As if it was a caress, he slipped his fingertips under the cuff and across the delicate skin of her inner wrist, no doubt checking for more illicit cards.

Well, he could check all he liked. She’d used the last one in that hand.

He gave her a pointed look.

So what if she’d cheated? It was his fault she had nothing of her own—or at least hadn’t until she’d had such a mysteriously good run of luck at cards tonight. She couldn’t keep relying on him and his money forever. Hells, he had so little of the stuff, she couldn’t if she wanted to.

No way did she want to rely on Knigh Blackwood for anything.