Her smile widened, drawing Aidan’s attention to her mouth. It was a mouth made for kissing. Pretty and pink, full and lush. He’d kept their kiss chaste, mostly because it hadn’t been the place to do more but now he couldn’t help but imagine taking it deeper. He was certain she’d taste as sweet and pure as she smelled, a welcome change from the women who frequented the taverns in port.
And unlike those women, Sarah’s responses would be honest and true. He recalled how she’d shivered when his lips touched hers, how her body leaned into his. What would she do when he coaxed her lips open with his tongue and truly ravaged her mouth?
“If you have the time,” she was saying.
He blinked away the fantasy. “Time for what?”
She clasped her hands together. “I was hoping to speak with you a moment, below if we can.”
Instead of answering, he leaned over the wheel and shouted, “Lucky! Can you take the helm?”
“Aye, Captain.” Lucky set down the musket he’d been polishing and levered himself to his feet. He took the wheel without a word but Aidan caught the misgiving in his eye.
Slim may have thought he’d delivered a good speech but apparently doubt lingered among his crew. Aidan clamped his jaw. He’d spoken to his men, put Sarah in the brig, and let her work most of the afternoon. He wasn’t sure what more he could do to show he remained intent on his quest for Roche.
“I won’t be long,” he said.
Aidan held the hatch open for her and determinedly ignored the stares and resentment he felt burning his back. Glaring at his men would serve no purpose. Neither would reminding them he’d done the same gesture for several of them since leaving Santo Domingo.
He poured himself a cup of rum—and offered her one—before he took a seat at the table. Brooding, he took a long, slow sip. He was as intent on killing Roche as he’d always been. His treatment of Sarah had nothing to do with his feelings with Roche. Why couldn’t his men see that?
That they already doubted him, so soon into their journey didn’t bode well for Aidan. When he’d dreamed of taking over the Revenge and becoming Steele he certainly hadn’t envisioned his crew questioning his methods or his goals. He needed to do something to prove himself but save for killing Roche—who wasn’t handy at the moment—he didn’t know what else he could do. Besides, with this lot, he was beginning to think even that wouldn’t satisfy them. He had a nasty feeling they also wanted Sarah dead. He finished his drink, slammed the cup onto the table.
Sarah jumped. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Nothing so simple I’m afraid.” He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms. “You had something you wanted to discuss?”
“Yes.” She sat across from him, fussed with peeling wax drippings from the clustered set of candles resting on the silver plate.
“Were you planning on speaking your mind before sunset?”
A nervous smile fluttered across her lips. Certainly his brusque tone wasn’t encouraging but he wanted to get this over with as he needed time alone to sort out what he was going to do about his crew and this uneasy feeling scratching between his shoulder blades.
She picked off a trail of wax and rolled it between her fingers. “I’d like to know how you plan on going after my father.”
“Would you, now?”
“I’m clear on your intent, Aidan, and I know you’ll not be changing your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Sarah studied the wax between her fingers as though her future depended on it. “I know. But I’d like to know what’s coming. I assume from what you told his crewman we are going to your childhood home. Are you planning on attacking his ship when he arrives? Will you be waiting for him to come ashore? What role shall I have?”
“I’m not going to Nevis. Not yet.”
Sarah’s head snapped up. “Then where are we going?”
“Tortuga.”
“I’ve heard of Tortuga. It’s where pirates gather, is it not?”
Aidan smirked. “It’s where they do a lot more than that.”
“And you’ll see my father there?”
He was quick to douse the hope that rose in her voice. “I’ve no intention of confronting him or letting him know I’m there. All I want to know is how many heathens he’s gathering to come after my family. Once I know, I’ll slip away unseen.”
The wax fell from her fingertips. “You said you wanted to catch him unaware. Would that not be the best place?”
He arched a brow. “You suddenly want me to kill him?”
“Of course not, I’m merely trying to make sense of your strategy.”
She was a terrible liar and he saw through her interest in his plan. She was still hoping for a chance to speak with Roche before Aidan could kill him. It would never happen.
“An island of drunken pirates is not the place for an attack. Every miscreant would join the fray for the sheer pleasure of it. Besides, I want Roche to know how it feels to have his family threatened before I end his miserable life.”
Sarah flinched but recovered quickly. She picked up the ball of wax she’d dropped and once again rolled it between her fingers. “So, your plan is to go to Tortuga, learn how many men he has and then sail to Nevis? You’ll attack him on land, then?”
Aidan sat forward, braced his forearms on the table. Despite having no resources at her disposal, he was beginning to suspect she was indeed planning something of her own. While he couldn’t fathom what it might be, he decided to play it safe.
“I haven’t decided,” he said and knew he was right when her shoulders fell. “Whichever way, Sarah, you’ll be safe. I’ve no intention of seeing you harmed.”
Her smile was melancholy. “I know. You’ve already proven as much.” She came to her feet, walked to the ladder.
When her footsteps faltered, Aidan looked over his shoulder. Sadness suddenly clung to her like a cloak and, not for the first time, Aidan wished he could shelter her from what was to come.
“Do you ever wish we could have met under different circumstances?”
She looked vulnerable and beautiful and he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms. He couldn’t do that, however. Already, she was too deep under his skin and he needed a clear head when he went after Roche. He could, however, give her the truth.
“More than I can say,” he answered.
*
With Aidan’s words sitting heavy on her heart, Sarah made her way to the quarterdeck, where he preferred she stay. Luckily, it not only kept her from getting in the men’s way, it was also where she preferred to be. Chunk was at the wheel, as was custom when Aidan wasn’t, and she nodded at the hulking man when he flicked his gaze her way. He didn’t acknowledge her; he never did. The heaviness spread from her heart to her shoulders.
It wasn’t only Aidan she wished she’d met under different circumstances. Here was freedom, finally, and it was becoming more and more difficult to enjoy it with constant hatred aimed her way. She stopped to take Carracks’ cage off the hook along with the small bag of nuts that hung from the same hanger. With her hands around the cage, Sarah nestled into a corner.
Seeing the parrot dance along the perch as he anticipated his treat eased the loneliness plaguing her. At least he was happy to see her.
“Who’s a smart bird?” she asked, holding up a treat.
Squawk. “Smart bird. Smart bird.”
She held the nut between the bars where it was gently taken from her fingers. His shiny beak and tongue made quick work of the treat and it wasn’t long before his tiny black eyes peered at her for more.
Squawk. “Smart bird. Smart bird.”
While the bird worked on another treat, Sarah tipped her head back and watched the clouds glide by. The wind had increased and the gusts slapped against the canvas. Sitting as she was, it was no more than an affectionate brush across her cheeks. Sarah had grown surrounded by the best-tended gardens and yet they paled to being here, water splashing up the hull with the occasion
al mist falling onto her hands and face.
There was no denying she was lonely, but she’d been so at home as well. At least here, for the moment, she was free.
“If only there was happiness as well,” she sighed.
Squawk. “Happiness as well. Happiness as well.”
Sarah chuckled. “You, dear bird, always manage to lift my spirits.” And because he did, she dug for another treat. “Who makes Sarah happy?” she asked.
Squawk. “Sarah naked. Sarah naked.”
Sarah’s mouth gaped open. The bag fell from her lifeless fingers. Nuts tinkled to the deck and rolled.
“What?” she squeaked.
Chunk twisted in her direction, his smile took up the whole of his face. Oh, God, he’d heard. Feeling exposed, she angled herself in such a way that Chunk could only see her back. His booming laugh mocked her movements. There was no way to hide from what he’d already heard.
Another wave crashed against the ship, the spray leapt for the sky. The falling mist cooled the burning on her cheeks. For Carracks to have said such a thing meant he’d heard it from someone. Aidan kept the bird close and when he was below so was the parrot. However she’d seen him step away from the helm—as now, for instance—and leave Carracks on deck with whoever manned the ship, usually either Chunk or Lucky.
She shuddered at the thought of either or both of them thinking of her naked. The idea of it churned her stomach more than a rough sea could. It could have been Aidan, she reminded herself. The bird remained with him most often.
She tried to imagine Aidan in his cabin with the cage on his lap or on the table before him, but try as she might she could not see him teaching the bird to say such words.
“Back already, Cap’n?”
Sarah’s body jerked. Her gaze darted to the helm and sure enough, there was Aidan strolling up to Chunk. Dear Lord, what if Carracks repeated himself and Aidan overheard? What if Aidan hadn’t, in fact, taught him those words but another crewman had? What if, once he heard them, he assumed it was Sarah who’d taught them to Carracks?
She leapt to her feet. She’d just go—
Her feet slipped on the spilled nuts. Arms flailing and feet sliding as though on a wet, soapy floor, Sarah tried her best to regain her balance. She knew she must look a fool, had a moment to wish she wasn’t embarrassing herself as much as she feared she was before she lost the battle and crashed onto the deck, landing hard on her left hip.
Pain shot down her leg and carved up her side. Underneath her more nuts poked and prodded and tried their best to dig into her skin. Before she could figure how to get up without slipping again, Aidan was at her side, holding his hand out to her.
Her pride hurt nearly as much as her hip, seeing the twitch in his lips as he tried not to laugh. Since falling again would only further humiliate her, she placed her hand in his. Coming to her feet only breaths away from him reminded her why she’d fallen in the first place. She cursed the flush burning its way back onto her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she managed. Then, using his support and the side of her shoe, she swept most of the offending nuts aside. When she was certain she wouldn’t slip again she reclaimed her hand.
“Are you hurt?”
Sarah rubbed her hand over her aching hip. “I imagine I’ll have a lovely bruise but otherwise I suspect I shall live.”
He nodded, but didn’t step away. As he studied her, his smile changed. The humor in his eyes transformed into something more potent and Sarah felt the shift down to the blood heating her veins. If only they had the ship to themselves. She wanted to scrape her palm over the whiskers darkening his cheeks, feel the bristle against her own. His hair shone golden in the sun and she wanted to dip her hands into the wind-tossed locks, feel the heat, like liquid sunshine slip through her fingers. While the wind tugged at her shirt, it wasn’t the breeze she wanted pulling at her clothes.
She wanted, she acknowledged with a surge of desire that left her breathless, everything he could teach her.
“Sa—” Aidan began.
“No, don’t!” she yelped, raising her hand before he could say her name. Desire fled in the fear of Carracks’ potential words.
Aidan frowned. “What’s the matter?”
Sarah cleared her throat. “Nothing. I told Slim I’d help with the meal. I-I’ll go now.”
She peered carefully around her and sure she wouldn’t fall again, marched past Chunk, down the stairs, and through the main hatch. Only once she was safely below, in the dank and musty air, did she breathe.
Dear God, who’d taught the parrot those words? Surely it had to be Aidan.
Didn’t it?
*
Aidan scratched his head, unclear as to what had just transpired. He’d gone from the humor of watching Sarah slip to concern when she’d slammed against the deck to a thrumming desire when he’d helped her to her feet. She’d been too close. He’d felt the graze of her breasts, the whisper of her breath on his chin, the slight tremble in her hand before she’d pulled it from his grasp.
He really needed to keep his distance when it came to Sarah. Because when he’d held her hand he’d forgotten about Chunk standing near. Had she not panicked when Carracks spoke—something that still confounded him—he would have pressed his face into her neck, drew in her scent, and filled his hands with her. The vision was crisp and bright as the white caps cresting the waves beyond the gunwale.
Bloody hell, she wasn’t even within sight and he was half aroused. Giving his head a firm shake, Aidan cleaned up the fallen nuts before anyone else could slip on them then hooked a finger through the metal loop at the top of Carracks’ cage and carried him to the helm where he secured the cage to its usual post.
Chunk stepped back, surrendering the wheel to his captain but he didn’t make any further movement to leave.
“Something wrong?”
“I’ve learned some things from Carracks today.”
Uneasiness rolled over Aidan. “Is that so?”
“Aye.”
Then, confirming his worst fears, and just as Lucky joined them Chunk leaned toward the cage.
“Sarah,” was all he had to say.
Squawk. “Sarah naked. Sarah naked.”
Lucky snorted. “Who taught him that?” Judging by the glee on Lucky’s face he wanted to congratulate the man.
“Nobody taught him,” Aidan sighed.
“Well someone had to say it for him to repeat it,” Chunk stated, looking much too satisfied for Aidan’s comfort.
“I didn’t say it,” Lucky said, raising his hands in defense.
“It wasn’t me,” Chunk stated. As one, the two men looked his way.
“I was muttering and he overheard me,” Aidan confessed. It wasn’t only Sarah he promised to be honest with. As much as possible, it was how he preferred to live.
Catching the glance that passed between his two most trusted crewmen Aidan said, “It wasn’t a comment based on experience.”
“Yet,” Chunk stated.
“She looks at you as you look at her,” Lucky added.
The back of Aidan’s neck pricked with heat. Embarrassment was a new sensation and he couldn’t say he enjoyed it. But, damn it, he didn’t know what more he could do or say to his men to convince them he wasn’t about to change his mind about Roche. For the love of God, the man had murdered his mother and nearly everyone else he cared about.
“Do you or do you not trust me to go after Roche?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Lucky asked. “We were with you at Nate’s. You stayed in that burning house longer than you should have just to get a good shot. The damn thing nearly fell in on top of you.”
“Aye. Besides, we sailed with you and Cale a time or two over the years. We know we can trust you to keep your word. You always have.”
The knot in Aidan’s shoulders unwound. “If you trust me then what were those looks about?”
“Because at Roche’s house you seemed certain you wouldn’t end up like e
very other Steele before you.” Lucky grinned and rocked back on his heels. “You aren’t looking near as certain now.”
The bottom of Aidan’s stomach swayed and dipped. It had nothing to do with the waves that shoved the ship and everything to do with the growing concern that they were right. Nevertheless he tightened his grip on the wheel.
“Seems to us,” Chunk continued, “you’re in about the same situation Cale was in.” He nodded toward Aidan. “You’re Steele now. You’ve got the Revenge back.”
“And there’s a pretty girl below decks that, according to your parrot, you want to see naked.”
Squawk. “Sarah naked. Sarah naked.”
Chunk sputtered, laughed so hard he nearly toppled over Lucky. Lucky managed to keep his feet beneath him but that appeared to be the only thing he had control over. Tears of mirth filled his eyes as he too chortled.
When Aidan had first joined Cale’s crew, Samantha had given him Carracks for company. When Cale had heard the parrot’s chatter he’d cursed then grumbled, “Won’t this be fun?” At the time, Aidan had found the entire scene quite humorous.
He wasn’t laughing now.
“I’m seeing a turn with the bilge pumps or swabbing the goat’s pen in your futures.”
“Begging your pardon,” Lucky managed. But his teeth flashed once more as he straightened and wiped his eyes. “We couldn’t pass that up.”
Though Aidan rolled his eyes and shook his head, it was hard to fault them too much as he’d have done the same in their shoes. The fact that they were so free with their boisterousness proved two things to Aidan. First, they knew he’d have done the same and second, they trusted in their relationship with him enough to act so freely. Nothing could have settled Aidan’s concerns more.
“Lucky, you finish with the barrels?” As cooper, it was Lucky’s duty to keep the barrels in good order and dismantle any empty ones in an effort to save space. On a sloop, space was minimal and needed to be used effectively. When they needed to be filled again, Lucky would put them back together.
“It was as you said, Cap’n. Supplies are good for now. Only two barrels needed dismantling.”
“Excellent. Chunk, if you’ll take the wheel again.”
In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) Page 14
