“God save the king,” I said dryly. “Tell me about His Majesty’s reward. Shall I receive it before or after I hang?”

He slowly released a breath. “What do you want?”

The smile I concealed between my teeth made me tremble. I was going to send him on a wild chase, thereby delaying the journey to England and allowing myself more time to turn his heart. I couldn’t have asked for a better boon.

“I’ll assist you in this hunt, in exchange for a kiss.” I met his dark blue eyes. “It must be equally as passionate as the first one. But this time, you’ll give me unrestricted access to touch you anywhere I please.”

His pupils flared so wide I saw the reflection of my unbidden smirk in them. A muscle feathered in his hard jaw, and his cravat twitched over the straining sinews in his neck.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear the thoughts churning in that gorgeous head.

“I agree to your terms.” Miraculously, his voice retained its unruffled smoothness. “Tell me what you know.”

“The king of libertines leases a room in New Providence. He resides in a brothel called the Garden.”

That had been true three years ago when I’d met him. Whether he’d returned to visit his pretty naked flowers during our separation was anyone’s guess. What I did know was that he wasn’t there now.

“Nassau.” Ashley’s lips thinned.

“Pirate haven.”

It was about a week’s voyage away. Considerably closer than England. From his perspective, if he turned the ship about now, he wouldn’t be backtracking too terribly far.

“What are the chances he’s there?” he asked.

“Who knows? But his doxies adore him and keep careful records of his comings and goings. I’m certain, if you licked their middle parts with the utmost severity and the greatest rigor that may be, you could coax them into sharing their innermost secrets.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You seem to know a lot about this libertine for having spent only one night with him. A night that, by your account, wasn’t given to conversation.”

“Quite true. Due to all the unnatural sexual relations.” I grinned, trying to raze his stiff demeanor.

He didn’t blink an eyelash. “Tell me how you really know Priest Farrell.”

This was the tricky part, and I would need to tread carefully. “My quartermaster is Reynolds Farrell.”

“Another Farrell?”

“Half-brother.”

His head jerked back, his eyes round with disbelief.

“I thought you knew everything, Commodore.” I took advantage of his shock and hooked a finger into the front closure of his waistcoat, relishing the pocket of body heat beneath. “Priest has a gaggle of half-blood relations.”

“This brother, your quartermaster…” He gripped my wrist but didn’t push it away. “Are they close?”

“They despise each other. But Reynolds keeps up with him.”

“When was the last time you saw Priest Farrell?”