Romancing the Pirate

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Romancing the Pirate Page 10

by Michelle Beattie


  Blake crept steadily to the stern, eyes casting side to side. He missed Vincent completely on the first pass. A second look found his first mate on hands and knees near the hatch that led to the captain’s cabin. Blake stopped momentarily to decipher what exactly Vincent was doing. When he figured it out, he swallowed his curse and strode silently toward his friend, keeping a steady eye on his target. He reached Vincent just as the man seemed ready to lift the hatch.

  Blake gave him a firm kick to the backside.

  Vincent yelped, jumped, and managed to spin so that he landed on his arse, wide eyes facing Blake.

  “Jesus, man, trying to scare ten years off my life?”

  “If you’d been steering my ship, I wouldn’t have had to.”

  Vincent wobbled his head in agreement.

  “Fair enough. Give me a hand?” he asked, extending an arm.

  Blake chuckled. “You managed to get yourself down there all by yourself, you can manage to get back up again.”

  At the helm, Blake took the compass, double-checked his heading, and satisfied the stars hadn’t lied, left the wheel to watch the sunrise. There wasn’t much to see, just the black of the sky fading into blue.

  “I thought you’d be asleep yet,” Vincent said from his side.

  “And you had a keen desire to watch me do it?”

  “Well,” his friend said slowly, “it was more the sleeping arrangements I was after discovering.”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “What you need is a woman. A good strong one, someone who can keep you out of trouble.” He paused, made it appear as though he were thinking. “I know just the woman,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Maybe a quick stop in Barbados is in order once we leave St. Kitts.”

  The color drained from Vincent’s face.

  “Are you mad? The last time I saw that woman, she almost strangled me!”

  Leaning back against the gunwale, Blake crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Beatrice was only being affectionate.”

  “Affectionate?” Vincent’s voice squeaked. “I was lucky to get away alive.”

  “Now you’re exaggerating. She told me herself she wanted to bear your children.”

  Blake nearly took pity on the man when Vincent stumbled.

  “You head that way and I’ll jump overboard.” Vincent shuddered. “Anything’s better than Beatrice.”

  “Keep that thought in mind next time you decide to meddle.” Blake put a hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “Now get some sleep. I’ve got the ship.”

  It took Alicia three tries to fasten the last button on her gown. She ran her trembling hands down the front of her bodice, only to discover the buttons weren’t aligned. Chiding herself for being nervous, she began again. She had no reason to tremble; it wouldn’t be the first time Blake had seen her in a dress. However, it would be the first time she’d worn one for him.

  Alicia fussed with her hair, tying it in various configurations of braids before deciding on a style that swept most of the tresses in a twist that she secured at the nape of her neck. She pinched her cheeks for color, then put her belongings back in her bag and set it underneath the stairs. She’d put the cabin to rights when she’d first awakened, and a quick glance confirmed there was nothing left for her to do below.

  She took a deep breath, then another. Blake had kissed her last night. He’d kissed her and held her even after he’d fallen asleep. When she could have slipped away, she’d chosen to stay in his arms. Alicia pressed a hand to her fluttering belly. It was time to see just what he thought of that.

  The hatch, like the rest of the ship, was well maintained and barely made a noise when she raised it. She stepped onto the deck and her eyes connected immediately with Blake’s.

  He was so handsome. His hair ruffled in the morning breeze, and she had a moment of regret because she had no idea what it felt like. His brown eyes were clear and steadily watched her approach.

  “Good morning,” she managed, wishing she knew what was going on in his head. Did he find her pretty? Was he happy to see her? Did he want to kiss her as desperately as she wanted to be kissed?

  “You’re awake early.”

  The fluttering died. She raised her chin. “I cleaned the cabin and straightened the bed. I didn’t touch any of your effects, I just thought that perhaps—”

  “Alicia,” he interrupted, his mouth twitching.

  “What?”

  “It wasn’t an accusation, only an observation.”

  She dropped her hands when she realized she’d placed them on her hips in defiance. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be angry with me this morning.”

  “I could say the same thing.”

  She smiled. “Yes, I suppose you could.”

  “I’m not proud of my behavior last night. I owe you an apology.”

  It wasn’t what her heart yearned to hear, but it was a start.

  “Are you sorry you kissed me?”

  Blake sighed. “Alicia, it’s not that simple.”

  “It is to me. Are you sorry?” she asked again, closing the distance between them by one step, then two.

  “Stop.” His voice held no conviction.

  “We’re alone, we’re both old enough to make our own decisions.” She halted when her shoes touched his boots. “I want you to kiss me again.”

  His eyes went molten. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “I think it’s a fine idea.”

  “No, it isn’t. You’re too young.”

  “Do I look young?”

  Her blood heated as his gaze glided over her. When it lingered at her breasts, a heaviness settled upon them and the peaks drew hard. She had no doubt, since she hadn’t brought along a corset, that Blake could see them through the thin cotton of her bodice. He muttered a curse and his eyes flew back to hers.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that you are.”

  “If I were older?”

  He ploughed his fingers through his hair, while his eyes once again skimmed over Alicia until her skin burned. Then he trudged to the back of the ship, braced his forearms on the side of the ship, and with his mouth set, stared out to sea.

  “You don’t still hate me, do you?”

  He scoffed. “No, that would be easy. That’s not the way my life usually goes.”

  “Is it my scar?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he growled, looking at her.

  “Then kiss me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he rasped.

  She slid between him and the side of the ship, knew a sort of victory when he didn’t back up. She had to arch her neck to look in his eyes, but it was worth the effort to see the desire wage a war with his chivalrous nature.

  “Actually, I do,” she whispered. “Kiss me, Mr. Privateer.”

  Pressing onto her toes, her hands braced on the solid mass of Blake’s chest, she reached for his mouth with her own.

  Blake couldn’t have moved if a hurricane blew in. Nothing was as strong as the want—the need—that raged in his blood and drowned out every other sound but that of her breathing. It was essential to his very being that he know the flavor of her mouth again. For the first time since he’d acquired the ship that rocked beneath his feet, something else mattered.

  “Alicia.”

  Cradling her face in his hands, he gently took what she offered. Last night’s kiss had been hard and fast; he’d been unable to control the need. He wasn’t in a hurry now, Blake thought, his lips moving over hers in a gentle caress. He wanted to savor her. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter than Alicia’s mouth. Her movements were uncertain, definitely not practiced as some women’s were. But it was that innocence that touched Blake. The woman in his arms was precious and he aimed to see she be treated as such.

  Her palms swept up his chest, curled into his hair. Blake’s knees trembled when she opened her mouth under his. Desire hummed in his ears. A fog curled in his brain, tried to obscure his logic and reason for not pressing Alicia into the gunwale and
ravishing her. If he didn’t slow down, he’d soon be lost in the thick of it. But he couldn’t pull away either. One more taste, he promised himself, and he traced her lips with his tongue. As he moved his hands to the back of her neck, the fog thickened. She was so bloody soft.

  “I’m surprised you’re awake. Thought for certain you’d be in bed nursing a dreadful headache.”

  Alicia startled, her body stiffened, and she drew back. Blake pressed his forehead to hers, cursed Nate’s timing, while he tried to steady his breathing. Although perhaps it was good that they’d been interrupted as neither he nor Alicia had had the sense to stop.

  Blake heard the man’s steps coming closer and knew by Nate’s misstep the moment he realized his captain wasn’t alone. Blake took Alicia’s hands from around his neck, kept one firmly grasped in his, and turned.

  Nate grinned like a child given a shiny new coin.

  “Ah, now I see,” he said. “Good morning, Alicia.”

  Despite the color that rode high on Alicia’s cheeks, she returned Nate’s greeting.

  They stood there like idiots until an itchy feeling settled between Blake’s shoulders and the headache he’d forgotten about while holding Alicia resumed its pounding. He pressed a hand to his eye.

  “Head hurt?” his first mate asked, his knowing smile telling Blake he already knew the answer. “Why don’t you go below? I promised the lady I’d teach her all about the ship.”

  “What?”

  “Well, that’s not exactly—”

  Interrupting Alicia, Nate continued, his eyes on Blake’s. “She asked me last night and who was I to refuse? The lady wants to know about the ship.” Nate gestured down the length of the deck that gleamed in the morning sunlight. “Since we’re up early this morning, it’s the perfect time.”

  Blake wanted to flatten Nate when the man winked at Alicia.

  “You take the helm,” Blake grumbled. “I’ll show Alicia around.”

  Nate shrugged, moved to the wheel. If Blake wasn’t mistaken, the man was biting his cheek. Blake didn’t appreciate being herded, but Nate was right. It was the perfect time. The sun was warm, the wind was stronger than it had been but still enjoyable, and it would afford him more time with Alicia.

  “Let’s start at the front,” Blake said. With her hand entwined in his, they moved to the bow, the canvas billowing above them.

  “Do you know much about ships?” he asked when they’d reached the front.

  Alicia smiled. “I know they float, have sails, and the front is the bow and the rear is the stern. And,” she added, holding up a finger, “they all have names.” She frowned. “Captain told me what yours looked like, but I don’t remember him giving me its name.”

  “Captain?”

  “Oh.” Alicia’s eyes widened and she gnawed at her lip. “He, um, well …” She shrugged. “He encouraged me to come aboard.”

  At least she looked sheepish. Blake doubted he’d see the same expression on Captain’s face next time they encountered each other.

  “Or course he did,” Blake mumbled. “Don’t know why that surprises me.”

  “He’s a very nice man,” Alicia reminded Blake.

  “I’ll try to remember that when I see him. Anyway, my ship’s called the Blue Rose.” He didn’t tell her he’d named it so because his mother’s favorite color was blue and she preferred roses. “We’ll start with the basics,” Blake said instead.

  “The larger the ship, the more it can hold. But the more supplies, the more guns it has, and the slower it moves. The smaller ones go faster for two reasons. One, they have less cargo encumbering them, and two, because they are shallower on the draft.”

  “The draft?”

  “The amount of ship that’s below the water, is the easiest way to say it. Captain said your sister was in a sloop. It would be smaller than this one, but also a little faster. This one’s a schooner,” he said, trailing his hand along the smooth gunwale.

  “Is it only the size that tells you what kind of ship it is?”

  “Usually it’s a combination of the ship’s size—its number of gun decks—as well as the number of masts and the manner in which the sails are attached to those masts. Take mine. She’s a two-masted schooner, so those two long poles you see are the masts. The larger ships can have up to four.”

  “Is that also a mast?” she asked, pointing to the pole that extended over the water at the bow.

  “In a manner of speaking. We call that the bowsprit. The smallest sail at the end of it is called a—”

  “A flying jib.” Alicia gasped, her hand at her throat.

  “You know its name?”

  “I—the name, it just came to me. Give me a moment.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her pretty mouth pinched and the hand that remained entwined with his shook. After a few silent minutes passed, she pulled her hand from his and moved to the gunwale.

  “Alicia?”

  Her heavy sigh had him moving closer to her side. His hand caressed her shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s these bits and pieces of my past that creep up on me. Once, sitting in the sun outside the house, I had this fleeting feeling of sitting in water and being so cold and afraid that I remember shivering despite the heat. There were a handful of times growing up that I used to wake up at night with my ears full of cannon blasts only to find myself in my bed with Jacob and Anna asleep downstairs.

  “But there were never enough to these glimpses for me to remember anything significant. It’s always these random thoughts and scraps of information and then nothing. No matter how much I focus on remembering more, nothing comes to me.” She kicked the gunwale. “It’s so frustrating!”

  He rubbed her shoulder. “We can stop, if you want. I can show you the rest another time.”

  She turned, placed her hand once again in his. Sadness lingered around the edge of her smile.

  “No, let’s keep going. Maybe I’ll remember more.”

  Her spirit amazed him. He couldn’t imagine not knowing his past. The fact that she could forge ahead despite the pain and frustration of not knowing her own history was a testament to the woman’s strength.

  He guided her along and was relieved when the last of the sadness slipped away. Soon she was once again looking at him, her eyes bright.

  Seeing that she was truly interested in what he was saying had pride settling warmly in his chest. He loved his ship, every board and every rope. Eric had never understood that and his father even less so. He’d tried explaining it, several times, but neither had realized what it meant to Blake. It got to be that he’d stopped trying to make them understand.

  For years he’d longed to be able to share his ship with someone who would look at it with the same wonder he had the first time he’d clapped eyes on it. Eric had enjoyed the water, but Blake had known by the look on his brother’s face that he didn’t understand, didn’t feel the same connection. Neither had his father. The only times he had come to the water were to see Eric and Daniel off and to forbid him from attending Anna’s funeral. Blake would never forget the look on Jacob’s face. He had looked at the ship with resentment, and the youngest of his sons standing on it with disappointment. Shoving the hurt away, Blake continued.

  “Everything on a ship has a name and a purpose.”

  Alicia tilted her head to the side. “How long did it take you to learn it all?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Even when I was a young boy, I’d spend as much time at the harbor as I could. I’d ask any sailor that happened by about ships. Most were happy enough to tell me, and my presence became so commonplace that soon they let me onto the ships, showed me everything.” He sighed. “I couldn’t learn it fast enough. By the time I left home, even though I hadn’t spent much time on the sea, I knew what was needed to sail a vessel.”

  “And you bought this ship straightaway?”

  “No, I had no money at the time. I’ve only had the Blue Rose for three years.”

>   Alicia squeezed his hand. “And you love her.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was said with affection and understanding and not a hint of recrimination or disgust. He drew her into his arms, felt his heart pull when she lifted her head and met his gaze. Her hands went around his waist. He smiled, then lowered his mouth to hers. It was a kiss to show what her understanding meant to him. He took his time about it, and when her mouth moved under his, opened for him, he forgot the reason for the kiss and simply lost himself in the wonder of it.

  When it ended, her smile was every bit as wide as his. He brought their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to hers.

  “You don’t have to go below today.”

  Eleven

  The day was a glorious wonder for Alicia. It reminded her of walking through Port Royal in the early morning and watching the town slowly come to life. The crew trickled up, by twos or threes, until the deck was full of men. She had no idea of their duties but enjoyed watching the activity nonetheless. When a few began to climb the rigging, she watched in fascination until they’d climbed so high Alicia’s stomach clenched. Since she hadn’t been sick in a while, she decided it best to look away before she changed her good fortune.

  Despite her asking, neither of the three men that alternated keeping her company—Blake, Nate, and Vincent—would assign her a task of her own. Instead she passed the time asking questions and trying to keep all the different words straight in her head. Mainsail, foremast, bilge, fore and aft, topmasts. There were two of those but at the moment she couldn’t think of the difference. She did know that the side of the ship she was leaning against was actually called a gunwale.

  Blake came to stand beside her. They’d had such a marvelous day. If he hadn’t been with her on the quarterdeck, he was on the main one, and more than once he’d turned to catch her watching him or she’d feel his gaze on her and turn to see she was right. Always a warmth settled around her when his eyes connected with hers. But times like these, when he was close enough to touch and she smelled the ocean and wind as well as his heat, every nerve in her body went on alert.

  “Do you ever tire of it?” Alicia asked.

  “Of what?”

 

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