28. A Tempting Proposition

28. A Tempting Proposition

A low whistle caught Hakan's attention before he could panic at the loss of his crew. He tracked the noise to find Loula standing only steps away from the tea booth, leaning against the souk's wall with deliberate casualness. He sauntered to meet her, finding Ozzo just around the corner, heads together in conversation with a finely-dressed young man.

"Where's Ramorran?" he asked Loula in a low voice when he reached her side.

"Had an errand. He'll meet us back at Emancipation."

Hakan nodded. "And who—" The man Ozzo was speaking to turned. Hakan caught sight of his face and froze. "You!"

The peacock they'd robbed a week earlier blinked at him, eyes gone wide the way Hakan remembered from their first meeting. "Uh—"

Ozzo straightened on the peacock's other side, his grin wide and relaxed. "Zakaria here has a job for us."

Hakan scanned the young man up and down. He was very sure last week was the man's first brush with pirates. He was a glutton for abuse to be eager for a second. "What can we assist you with?"

Zakaria swallowed. He glanced at Ozzo as though seeking permission. This was not going to end well, Hakan could predict. Still, it might prove entertaining. Ozzo's grin widened still further as he gave the man the nod he was clearly seeking.

The peacock found his voice. "I want you to kidnap me."

Hakan laughed. "Why would we do that?"

The peacock frowned as though he hadn't expected a challenge. "I want you to demand a ransom from my parents. You can keep the money."

Hakan snorted. "Yes. We're aware how kidnap and ransom works. Victims don't usually put themselves forward."

The peacock straightened his shoulders as though squaring up for a fight. Hakan doubted he'd ever thrown a punch in his life. His gaze was fierce, but his lips were almost pouting as he told them, "My parents just made my sister their heir. They don't appreciate me. I want to teach them a lesson."

Hakan managed not to laugh in the young man's face. It wasn't the most trivial complaint he'd ever heard, but it was definitely in the top handful.

"We could use the money," Ozzo pointed out.

"Stay here," Hakan told the peacock. "We'll discuss it." He jerked his head and towed Loula and Ozzo far enough that whispers wouldn't be overheard.

"What do you think?" Ozzo's expression was bright with enthusiasm.

"I think it has every chance of unravelling into an unholy mess."

Ozzo pouted, reminding him uncannily of the peacock under discussion. "It's a simple job. He bunks with us for a couple of weeks, his parents make the payoff, we skedaddle."

Hakan looked straight at him. "Would you pay to get that back?"

"That's unkind."

Hakan noted he didn't try to claim it was unjustified. He turned to his first mate. "Lou?"

She lifted a shoulder. "We can sell him into slavery if they don't pay up."

"No. We're not doing that any more." His tone was calm, but implacable.

Loula rolled her eyes. "I was joking."

Hakan punched her shoulder gently. "Hard to tell, face like yours."

Loula rolled her eyes again, which was almost the same as a hug.

Hakan laughed. "Very well, we'll take the silly puppy on board, send a note to his parents and see what happens." A bad feeling panged deep in his guts – but he'd made many, many worse decisions in his life. What was one more?

They strode back towards the peacock who looked alarmed to see the three of them shoulder-to-shoulder. Hakan kept his eyes on the young man but spoke to Ozzo, "Do you want to throw the first punch, or shall I?"

"What? No!" The youth's hands came up. He pressed against the wall he was backed against. "Don't hurt me!"

Hakan hid his smile and cocked a brow, hands loosely fisted. "We have to make this look convincing. You wouldn't have come with us willingly, now, would you?"

"No, no, wait." He was almost hyper-ventilating, eyes darting aside, seeking escape. "There must be another—"

"I'll make it quick," Hakan promised, shoving his sleeves back.

A low whine of terror came from the peacock.

Loula threw out a hand as though the idea had just occurred to her. "We could drug him, instead."

Peacock blinked. He nodded as though his head were loose. "Yes! Yes, that would work!"

Hakan shrugged as though he cared little either way. "I suppose. Can you act drunk, or do we need to force some hard liquor down your throat?"

"I can act!"

"Very well." Hakan cast a glance around the bustling market. "Come here, boy." Peacock tensed, but Hakan simply grabbed his arm and slung it around his shoulders, lifting the peacock onto his toes. "Ozzo, can you help?"

Ozzo stepped up to the youth's other side and grabbed his right arm. Suspended between the two of them, their hostage looked as though he were reconsidering all his life choices up to this point.

"Back to the boat," Hakan told his crewmates. "Try to look drunk or drugged," he instructed peacock.

The young man swallowed, then hung his head and groaned quietly, which Hakan wasn't sure was an act or a sign of his genuine feelings.

"Watch out!" Loula called, striding ahead to clear their way. "Poor boy's been taken ill. Make way!"

Tucking his grin firmly away once more, Hakan and Ozzo navigated the souk back to the harbour, towing their deadweight between them.

When they reached the dhow, Hakan handed their passenger off to Ozzo and Loula. He was confident the peacock was sufficiently terrified to cause him very little trouble. He was more concerned that the only sign of Ramorran was a note on the tiny table below deck saying he'd be back soon. Back from where? And how soon was soon?

Hakan prowled around Emancipation for an hour, not even entertained by the fearful glances thrown his way by the peacock. Where was Ramorran?

Ozzo prepared a meal when dusk drew in, but Hakan couldn't eat. "I'm going to find out what's keeping Ramorran," he growled, waving away the bowl.

"Do you want me to come with?" Loula offered.

"No. No need. We should leave as soon as the two of us get back."

Loula nodded. "We'll be ready to cast off the minute you step on deck," she promised.

Hakan left the harbour, but stuck to the shore. His only guess was that his love would be found close to the sea, because wasn't that his home? But perhaps he was wrong. He was suddenly, achingly aware that he barely knew the man. They both had too many secrets clutched to their chests. He'd have to rectify that. He wanted to know every detail of Ramorran's life. His likes and dislikes, what made him smile, what provoked that cute clench of his jaw...

He crunched over the stony beach, gaze darting from the waves to the dry land, back and forth, back and forth. The waves were both reassuring and irritating. If Ramorran were stomping over the stones to reach him he wouldn't be able to hear it over the restless sea.

Why wasn't he here? His heart thumped as fears pressed closer. Had his tribe followed them? Had they stolen Ramorran back? He knew the man wouldn't have left voluntarily, not while his skin was still in his hammock. And Hakan was sure he would at least have said goodbye if he'd planned to leave.

A strange lump that didn't look like rocks caught his attention higher up the beach. He made his way over to it, his guts lurching when he found Ramorran's clothes neatly rolled together. He turned, squinting across the sea. His gaze raked the restless waves as though his aching need for his love could bring the man back.

And then a head popped above the waves a few yards away from the beach.

Hakan's heart jolted. The head bobbed, striking towards the shore. Hakan hurried to meet him, waves rushing over his boots as Ramorran rose from the water like an ancient god.

"I suppose this is my own fault!" he called once they were close enough. "Foolish of me to order you to stay within sight and then walk away!"

Ramorran blinked, shaking water from his hair. He stepped forward, the waves tugging at his ankles. Each step seemed an effort. Hakan realised he was shivering.

"Here, here." He shrugged off his jacket and put it around Ramorran's shoulders.

"My clothes," Ramorran gestured. Hakan hurried to grab them and hand them over. He shrugged off Hakan's jacket and began pulling his own clothes on, struggling when they stuck to his skin.

Ramorran pulled on his shirt and Hakan couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed it, heaving the man towards him, crushing his lips to Ramorran's cool ones, kissing him as though their lives depended on it.

"I'm fine." Ramorran tried to pull away and Hakan's heart stopped.

Ramorran wasn't pulling away, he was staggering, as though drunk or injured. Hakan's pulse surged and he grabbed, holding the other man up. "Whoa, whoa, what happened? Did your people track you down?"

"No. I found a skin." Ramorran was slurring his words. "Had to get it back to its owner."

"Skin? A selkie skin? Here?"

Ramorran nodded. His weight slumped against Hakan.

"Steady, steady. Back to the boat. Can you make it?" Ramorran wasn't small. Hakan didn't revel at the idea of having to carry his love back the way he'd come.

"Jus' help," he slurred. Hakan slung his arm over his shoulder in a strange parody of their ‘abduction' of Zakaria. "I've got you," he promised.

"Sorry," Ramorran muttered after a while. "I had to go further than I thought."

"Because of the skin?" he asked.

"Mmm."

"You should have said. We could have taken the boat."

Ramorran shook his head, then left it lolling on Hakan's shoulder. He rather liked it there. "Poor kid. She was scared enough already. Would've been worse if we'd gone en masse."

Hakan's heart flipped over. This man. "All set to rights now?"

"Yes." Ramorran took a deep breath and regrettably stood up straight enough he didn't need Hakan's shoulder. Since they were only steps away from Emancipation Hakan tried not to mourn.

"Come on. We should get you something to eat, then get you into bed."

Ramorran turned, his fist grabbing at Hakan's shirt. "Yes, please."

Lust bolted through Hakan, although it would have to bide its time. "You need to sleep. You're almost asleep on me."

"Sorry," Ramorran slurred as he staggered up the gangplank.

Hakan grinned at his exhausted face. "Trust me, no apology is needed."

They reached the deck and Ramorran – not that he was moving swiftly – came to a sudden stop. "Who're you?"

"Ah. This is Zakaria. Zakaria, meet Ramorran, our final crewmember. We'll do introductions in the morning."

"Is he all right?" Loula asked, nodding at Ramorran.

"Just tired," Hakan replied. "Went swimming. Overreached himself."

"'M fine," Ramorran declared, staggering towards the steps.

Hakan hurried after him. "Can you get down safely?"

"Sure, sure."

Hakan followed him down into the hull. Ramorran sighed and dropped onto a stool, folding his arms on their tiny table and slumping forward.

"I'll get you something to eat." He filled a dish with stew and set it in front of Ramorran.

Ramorran was grey with fatigue, but he almost inhaled the meal. Hakan set a hand on his shoulder and enjoyed the solid warmth of his love. He drew up a stool so he could sit close, resting his chin in his palm.

Ramorran sighed when he finished. "That's better." He looked up. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I was in a hurry to get Perie's skin back to her."

"So long as you're safe it doesn't matter." Hakan pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I got something for you." He fetched what he'd bought earlier, setting it – still shrouded in the blanket – before Ramorran.

"I – thank you." Ramorran tugged the blanket aside and gasped.

Hakan's lips curved in satisfaction.

"It's beautiful," Ramorran said, one hand running along the edge of the fine wooden box, the mahogany inlaid with brighter cherrywood and shapes delineated with silver wire.

"It doesn't have a selkie lock," he said apologetically. "Just a conventional one." He flipped the lip open and lifted out the key.

"It's perfect."

"I hope so. I didn't check the size." Hakan didn't really doubt, but he fetched Ramorran's wrapped skin from their bunk all the same.

Ramorran chuckled and unfastened it, setting it carefully inside the box. "Just right," he murmured.

Inspiration struck. Hakan lifted the skin back out. "I think it might look better…" He shook it out then slipped it carefully, slowly, across Ramorran's shoulders, his fingers running over the luscious pelt as he smoothed it down. "There." The thick fur was luxuriant. He let his fingers slide into the strands, enjoying both the silken fur and the warmth of its owner beneath.

Ramorran was looking at him wide-eyed, eyes gleaming in the lantern light. "Is this..?"

Hakan smiled crookedly. "I'm not completely sure of your peoples' traditions. And I didn't actually steal your skin, but I wanted to give it to you, formally." He met Ramorran's eyes, wide-awake and wide with wonder. "I want forever with you. Is that what I'm offering? Asking?"

Ramorran grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him close until their lips were a whisper apart. "You didn't steal my skin," he breathed.

"No." Hakan tried to think straight with Ramorran's scent filling his nose, the man's warmth radiating so close he was dizzy with it. "But—"

Ramorran's lips lifted. "You stole my heart. You stole the whole of me," he breathed. His eyes sparkled as he added the loving condemnation, "Thief."

Hakan chuckled, brushing their lips lightly together. "Guilty as charged," he returned softly. He set his hand on the skin over Ramorran's shoulder. "Is this all right?"

"Forever with you?" Ramorran clarified.

"Yes."

"Yes." He smiled. "Yes, that's very much all right." He pressed his lips to Hakan's. Everything else they had to say didn't need words.

***