Falling for the Pirate (Entangled Scandalous)

by Amber Lin

  “Indeed. Which means that she is your insurance. As long as she is with me, you stay alive. If she were to catch wind of any negative information— If she were to leave, as you say—exactly who would stop me from flaying you open?”

  “But I—” This seemed to confuse him. He didn’t understand why Nate would wish to murder him, if not for the pathetic attempt at extortion.

  Nate leaned down and stared into two reptilian eyes. “I am Captain Nathanial Bowen, as you have apparently discerned. But you might remember me better as a boy named Nate. Or you might not remember me at all. How many boys did you send to prison? How many of their parents did you kill?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The galley was always the warmest part of the ship. Juliana wiped her face with the side of her sleeve. Her eyes stung from the haziness of the coals and sweat dripping into her eyes. How did the cook manage it each day? He was red-faced but content. He had readily accepted her offer of help, pressing her and Bennett into a corner to peel potatoes.

  She carved the last bit of brown skin from one and tossed it into the bucket. Lord, but it took a lot of food to feed the entire crew, even if some of them were children. Especially because some of them were children.

  Bennett looked at her knowingly. “Cramps in your fingers?”

  “God, yes. You?”

  “No,” he said cheerfully. “I have more experience working with my hands. But you’ll catch the hang of it.”

  She cracked her knuckles and grabbed another potato. She wasn’t sure she would have time to catch the hang of it. Nate had offered to care for her, but arrangements like that ended every day. It was the nature of them. If he tired of her—when he tired of her—she would be alone again.

  And considering he refused to sate himself with her, she imagined he would grow tired of her very quickly.

  “I’ll whittle you a fishing stick before we set sail.” Bennett continued talking, oblivious to her thoughts. “We can’t be trading off every time we want to fish. Sometimes the water’s only calm for a few hours.”

  She stared at him, fascinated and charmed. The boy seemed to have built up a plan for them. However, it couldn’t be allowed to stand. She didn’t want to mislead him and cause disappointment if it didn’t happen. How much of Nate’s grand promises were due to a desperate climb of lust? And how many would he keep when his interest fell down the other side?

  Juliana didn’t even have a timeline for how quickly that might happen. Months? Days?

  If she were on land, she would have asked Mrs. Wheaton, however inappropriate, out of desperation. As it was, there was not a single other female aboard the ship. Unless she counted the cats that prowled the deck at night for rats. Which she didn’t, mostly.

  “Bennett… I’m not sure I’ll be accompanying you when the ship sets sail.” She spoke gently, to let him down easy. To let herself down easy. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  After all, even her father had abandoned her. Whether he had done the crime or not, she didn’t know. But when he had decided to flee from the authorities, he hadn’t taken her with him. I can’t take her with me! he’d muttered in his delirium, but she hadn’t known then he was talking about her. And about leaving their home forever. If she couldn’t trust her only family, how could she trust Nate?

  The worst part was, she already trusted him.

  “Cor,” Bennett said. “My ma may have been a whore, but I know the way between a man and a woman.” Before Juliana could voice her shock, he added, “When they love each other, they get married. I’ve seen his face when he looks at you.” He spoke as if it were decided.

  Her breath caught. Marriage? No. Bennett was a child. He was being fanciful. Unease turned her stomach. Was this seasickness?

  And then there was the casual reference to Bennett’s parentage.

  She put a hand on his. “Where is your mother now?”

  The boy shrugged. “I never saw her. She died havin’ me.”

  “That must have been difficult for you. Did you grow up in an orphanage?”

  “Naw, one of the other whores had a babe near the same time, so I grew up right there.”

  A child being raised in a whorehouse? She was appalled, but she forced her expression to remain even. “How did you come to find our Captain Bowen?”

  “Oh, I didn’t. He found me. Showed up one day at the door and said he wanted me. The madam said it would cost him double. Then the Cap’n got real angry and we left without giving her any money.”

  “I see,” she said faintly.

  “And I’ve been staying here ever since. The Cap’n makes sure we got enough food and hot water to wash. Don’t you never mind how he acts when he’s angry. He’s real respectable-like. He’ll be asking you to marry him any time now, no doubt.”

  “Bennett.” Lord, how to say this so a child could understand. “Even when a man and a woman are…friends, it doesn’t mean they’re going to get married.”

  “But why?”

  “There is a great difference in our stations.” A nice way to describe the fact that she lived on his charity.

  Bennett guffawed. “Well, I know that. The Cap’n don’t speak half as fine as you do.”

  “In other aspects, not just that. Suffice it to say, I am quite sure we are not getting married.”

  A scuffed step sounded behind her, giving her a second’s warning. She whirled to find Nate standing in the doorway to the small room. A huff of surprise escaped her. Nate. How much had he heard? From his dark expression, quite a bit. He loomed in the doorway, seeming almost out of breath. He hadn’t even broken a sweat scaling the sheets of the ship, but he looked almost furious now.

  Her stomach clenched. Did he think she was angling for a proposal?

  “Could I have a word?” he said in a tone that left no room for refusal.

  Bennett’s eyes were wide. “Sorry,” he whispered.

  She forced a smile. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  If only she could believe that.

  …

  Nate liked the map room. The piles of papers on the table, held down by smooth rocks from around the world. Rolls of paper curled in bins around the space. However, he wasn’t charting a course today. That would have solved quite a few problems. Instead he sat on a chair in the corner, slouched, regarding the room with narrowed eyes. He wanted to be angry—but he wasn’t.

  Instead he felt desolate, as if he’d lost something important.

  Juliana came in and knelt in front of him. “What happened?”

  He blinked, slowly focusing on her. Her eyes were wide—expectant. Hopeful. She wanted both him and her father to be innocent, but neither of them were. One of them would end up hurting her, and so it became a race to the bottom. Who would fill those pretty eyes with tears?

  His voice was hoarse. “You should leave. Get out while you can.”

  She ignored his warning. She was always doing that. “What happened while you were gone?”

  “Got into a fist fight. Threatened to kill a man. The usual.”

  Her eyes widened with shock. “Why?”

  If she wasn’t afraid of him, it was only because she didn’t know him. Not truly. He’d touched her sweet skin, brought her to breathless cries twice now, but he’d never found his own release. Never spent himself in her willing body. She had no idea what he was capable of. “Do you know what a man thinks when you kneel between his legs, Juliana?”

  “Yes,” she said, placing her hand on his knee—shocking him. “Would you like me to do that?”

  He hissed out a breath. Her hair fell down in loose waves, framing her in silken gold. Her face and arms were already bronzed from spending the day on his ship. A rosy pink burn tinted her nose. She needs to wear a hat if she’s going to be on deck that often.

  But she wouldn’t be with him that long. Especially if she learned the truth of his past.

  It wasn’t only his connection with her father that would horrify her. He should tell
her first, and give her the opportunity to turn away.

  “You are breaking me in two,” he muttered.

  He ran the back of his knuckles along her temple. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she tilted her head, leaning into his hand. So loving. So trusting. He ached with the need to give her what she wanted, to be the man she deserved.

  And he knew what he’d said to Sinclair was almost a lie. He didn’t simply trust her or care for her.

  He loved her.

  With a hiss of pain, he pushed her away. “Don’t touch me.”

  Her eyes went wide, unblinking. “Why did you threaten a man today? What did he do to deserve it?”

  “What makes you think he did anything? Perhaps I am unruly and violent. I definitely am.”

  “You wouldn’t even hurt Wilson. So this man must have done something worse than hit a child.”

  “Yes,” he agreed grimly. “It was worse.”

  “Tell me.”

  He was silent a moment. “I had stolen some bread to survive. Punishment can be harsh for such things, even when you’re starving, but children are typically spared the worst.”

  Her throat tightened hearing him discuss his suffering so casually. As if it were commonplace—and on this ship, perhaps such talk was commonplace.

  “However, this man was wealthy and powerful. He arranged for me to be sentenced severely and placed in a prison outside of England. On a hulk.”

  She sucked in a breath. She vaguely recalled hearing of those awful places. Decommissioned ships, in pitiful condition, anchored so they couldn’t move, too far out for hope of swimming to freedom. It seemed like an abomination for a man who loved the sea to be imprisoned upon it. Like taking everything soft and sweet and wonderful in life, twisting it, warping it, turning it black.

  “The cells were four feet by six, including the sleeping bench. The prisoners were shackled at all times, even inside our cells. We were fed once a day through a space in the cell door. Though sometimes not. Guards would walk through and we’d hear their laughter.”

  Hot tears tracked down her cheeks. “That’s horrible.”

  “To bathe, we were placed inside a rectangular box. That box was then doused with cold, filthy water. We called it the coffin. I thought I would drown. Sometimes I wished to.”

  “Nate.”

  “They killed the warden, in the end. A gang of Irishmen overpowered the guards and beat him to bloody death. After that, they dismantled the ship.”

  There was so much she wanted to say, in sympathy and horror. But he would despise her. Instead she asked the one thing that confounded her. He had lived through hell on a creaky, briny structure not unlike this one.

  “Why do you still sail?”

  “The only way I can rest is with the water beneath me and the sky above. I don’t know if I was ever comfortable on land. I honestly don’t remember well enough. But the day they pulled me from the cell, and made me live on land, I vomited on the dock. For days, I couldn’t keep any food down, I couldn’t sleep more than an hour.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Nate.”

  “The doctor they called in assumed I would die, but there was a student who worked under him. You’ve met him. Dr. Richards. He had the idea to put me back on a ship—a different one.” He shrugged. “I lived.”

  “He saved your life.” Which explained why Nate had such loyalty for the old doctor. It also explained why the doctor had warned her away. He had seen Nate at his worst. But Juliana wasn’t afraid. She was appalled for what he’d endured and furious on his behalf. But she would never be afraid of him.

  Even though he clearly wanted her to be.

  “I’m grateful you shared this with me,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be grateful,” he snapped. “I need you to understand why I am this way. I need you to know why I can’t—”

  “Can’t what?” Though she might have guessed. The way he refused to carry through the act. “Can’t lie with me?”

  He laughed. “I can lie with you, love. What I can’t do is the part that comes after.” When she stared at him blankly, he said, exasperated, “I can’t marry you.”

  “Oh, Nate. I never expected you to. What you heard in the galley—”

  “You should expect it,” he burst out. “You deserve honor, but I don’t have any of that. And if I were to marry you—”

  Part of her wanted to reassure him that marriage wasn’t what she required, wasn’t what she wanted. But that wasn’t strictly true.

  She did want marriage, both because of honor and because it was him. But there was something in his voice, strained and almost heartbroken.

  “What is it?” she murmured.

  He met her gaze. “If I married you, you would never be able to leave.”

  Oh. Oh. Was he worried about that? It was almost laughable. She didn’t laugh though. Relief had turned her to stone, leaving him to search her eyes for an answer. She was made of brick and mortar when she tried to crack a smile, to reassure him. Even the small movement of her breath felt like too much. Being alive was too much.

  Only one thing felt easy.

  “I love you,” she said.

  He flinched. “Don’t.”

  She loosened after that, emboldened by his rejection. He could have laughed her off. Or charmed her with any number of sweet responses. What harm was it for a paid mistress to love her protector? He would only be upset if he believed her. He would only pull away if he felt it, too.

  She reached for him.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  He sounded much less sure this time, but her hand still froze.

  She could read his body, the way it tensed in expectation, how it vibrated with longing. His jaw clenched. His fists tightened on the armrests. He was coming apart in agonizing increments, like rocks grinding together, leaving only powder left behind.

  She put a hand on his calf, disobeying.

  He made a low rumbling sound. A warning, a growl. “Juliana.”

  “I only want to please you.”

  “Then do as I say, and leave.”

  “Why do you deny yourself?”

  She slid her hand to his knee. He tensed beneath her. He could have pushed her away. He could have stalked from the room. Instead, he watched the progress of her hand as if his life depended on it. His stillness would have to be consent enough. His acceptance was all he had to give.

  With a sigh, she leaned forward, losing her restraint and reaching for him fully. He crushed her to his chest in a suffocating hug. She held him just as tightly, her arms wrapped around his solid torso, her face pressed into his shirt.

  Men might get certain ideas when a woman knelt between his legs, she knew. But for this man, at this time, a tight embrace was the intimate act he needed most.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nate had fought for every single thing he possessed—his ship, his wealth. His life. He knew every underhanded street trick to gain an advantage, and he was using them now with Juliana. He wanted more than a mistress. He wanted a wife, someone to travel with him, someone to stand by his side. Someone he could protect and who would protect him back.

  And to get that, he would have to fight. It wasn’t enough for her to say yes now. He had to know, for sure, that she wouldn’t leave him when she knew.

  His throat felt tight as he led her by instinct through the bowels of the ship, the gentle creak of wood their only accompaniment. The lamps had been left unlit, and the darkness was black as a cave. No one passed them. No rapid footfalls came from above deck.

  “Where is everyone?” she whispered.

  He didn’t turn around as he answered. “We sail in a week. The seamen are with their families. The younger boys, the ones who aren’t ready to sail, have gone back to a house we keep on land.”

  Her hand tightened on his. “So we’re alone?”

  “There’s always a skeleton crew on board, but you won’t see them unless you venture up on deck.”

  “Then why are you on boar
d?”

  Doors blended into paneling. He had to navigate the space by feel alone, a ship without a star. But he had walked these decks a thousand times—paced them, run headlong into danger on them. The wood that held them in its sturdy, rough embrace had been the only love he’d known.

  Before her.

  He stopped walking and felt her bump into him with a soft expelled breath. “Because I have no family,” he said.

  But he wanted one. For the first time in his life, he wanted that comfort and stability. Or maybe he’d always wanted it, but he could finally acknowledge it. Now that he’d met Juliana.

  She put her hand on his back. Warmth seeped through his jacket, his shirt. Through his skin and straight to the hollow iron box that was his heart.

  “Nate?” she said.

  He still couldn’t face her, not until she accepted what he had planned. “If you come into this room with me, I won’t hold back any longer. I’ll take you as a man does a woman, and you’ll be mine. You understand what that means, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Her voice was husky, and he needed to see her expression. Even with no light and his vision black, he had to face her then, and press her into the wall, and breathe in the sweet scent of her.

  “You’ll marry me, then?”

  She sucked in a breath. “You said you couldn’t marry me.”

  “Not unless you swear to stay.”

  “You don’t have to do this to keep me. I am prepared to be your mistress.”

  “So you can take my money and leave me?” He nuzzled her neck, feeling like an animal who’d been given his head, wild and unruly. “No. I’m going to bind you to me so you can never go. You’ll always be near me, next to me, under me, for as long as we both shall live. No matter what.”

  Her soft laugh eased him. “You are the only man who could make a marriage proposal sound like a threat.”

  “Do you accept my terms?”

  He heard the smile in her voice. “Yes, Captain. I surrender.”

  It wasn’t enough.

  He let his hands slide down her body, over the curve of her hips. God, he loved these hips. He wanted to do a hundred things to them. To hold them and bite them and use them to ride her. He wanted to kiss them every morning—only her hips, and then everywhere else.