Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) by Chloe Flowers

her and she tried to twist her hands out of the manacles. Pain shrieked through her wrists, as the malicious metal bit into her skin.
    “Ye shouldn’t have fought me,” Crowe growled in her ear as he squeezed her buttock hard and then caressed it roughly.  
    Keelan tried to swallow, but her throat froze and would not obey. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently began to pray.
    Crowe swung the belt.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    The sheriff checked the priming of his pistol. “Hopefully we’ll surprise them and avoid bloodshed, but don’t hesitate to defend yourselves. On my mark, we’ll charge.”
    Landon turned to the waiting men. “Ready your weapons.”
    Swords and sabers were drawn, pistols held at the ready.  
    A muffled scream pierced the night from deep within the warehouse. The men froze at the unexpected sound.
    “That’s a woman’s scream!” Conal hissed to Landon in surprise.
    “Now!” Sheriff Pinkerton roared.
    The men crashed through the doors. A warning shout from the sentry inside was cut short by the heavy fist of one of Commodore Hall’s sailors. The guard sank into a limp heap as the men swarmed into the building.
    Shouts of surprise and panic arose from a small group of warehouse occupants who had been playing cards on a barrel near the door. The disturbance drew an additional dozen or more thieves from the rear of the building, their roars of alarm mingling with the hoots and yells of Hart’s sailors and Pinkerton’s deputies. A stray pistol shot shattered a glass oil lamp. It exploded into flames, scattering a shower of blazing oil on several rolls of silk. Thin fingers of fire licked hungrily at the lamp oil dripping down the table legs and over the floor.  
    Landon shouted over his shoulder, “Henry! You and Marcel contain those flames before they spread. Save that silk!”  
    Henry’s eyes widened as Landon motioned to several crates a few paces from the fire.  
    “Captain, Those are sittin’ next to munitions crates.”
    Landon paused and glared at Henry. “Then you had best be quick .”
    Henry grabbed Marcel by the arm and together they knocked the bolts of silk to the ground, stomping madly at the ravishing flames. Thick black smoke began to spread through the warehouse.
    That silk had cost him a small fortune, dammit. Would his luck never change? Half of Fynn’s cargo was ruined during their confrontation with Gampo last month then his cargo was stolen. Although he’d found it, the most expensive items were now on fire. How many more setbacks would he be able to take before he was back to where he started seven years ago?  
    Conal pointed through the smoky haze to the second floor, and an open loft currently stuffed with part of their stolen wares. “The screams might have come from up there.”
    He glanced up at the thick timber door, which stood ajar above them. The faint glow of a lantern, somewhere within, illuminated the end of the passageway. He bounded up four steps before a dark form blocked his way. He barely raised his own weapon in time to deflect the first blow from the tar’s saber.
    Landon blocked the second strike and returned a parry of his own, neatly disarming his attacker. The man whirled to run but stopped short to avoid the tip of Commodore Hall’s sword. Since the thief was in good hands, Landon continued up the stairs. He’d made it halfway before a bellowing war cry made him turn.  
    Conal stood on the first step, his back to Landon, holding a sword with one hand and a dirk with the other as a large man carrying a broadsword and a pistol ran directly at him. While normally, he’d leave Conal to his own defense, in this case his friend was holding a dagger instead of the pistol he needed for a balanced fight.
    Landon fired his last shot. A bright red blotch seeped through the ruffian’s shirt. The man cried out in pain and his weapon clattered to the floor. Conal brought the point of his sword up to his assailant’s throat. Things seemed to be in