Chapter Three
“Don’t you touch me,” Roselyn screamed and leapt from the bed. The integrity of her dress completely compromised, it fell away in the front when nothing held it together in the back. She grasped at the cloth across her breasts, trying to hold it in place and protect her modesty.
“I’m not going to touch you.” When the man stood from his kneeling position on the floor and took a step in her direction, she screamed again and ran to the only protection she could find. She stood behind a massive cherry desk hoping the solid woodenness of it would provide some protection against the half-naked giant advancing on her.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned and grabbed a letter opener on the desk and wielded it with her free hand.
The man chuckled. “Oh, love, you’re adorable, standing there all brave and trembling, clutching at your dress and pointing the silly little dagger at me.”
“Who are you?”
“My lady.” He made an exaggerated bow. “Handsome Jack and the Neptune’s Revenge at your service.”
“Oh my God!” She sank into the desk chair. Any hope she had of finding Rupert now was a lost cause. The sting of tears pinched behind her eyes. This was just too much. First, she’d had to deal with the death of her father, then the sinking of the ship, and now pirates. What had she ever done for God to forsake her this way?
“Oh now.” He approached the desk and slipped the little dagger from her hand and slid it in a desk drawer. “Tis not as bad as all that. You’ve been rescued, you know.”
“Only to be held captive on a pirate ship.”
“Who said you were a captive?” he asked, his voice smooth as honey.
Roselyn realized how close he stood to her and she leapt from the chair, circled around again, and stopped on the opposite side of the massive slab of cherry wood.
“You’re not a captive,” he reiterated.
“Oh, then you’re telling me you’ll let me off this ship this very instant?” She thought it doubtful, but there might be a chance.
This time his laugh was louder, more robust than the chuckle from before. His eyes twinkled with mirth and she couldn’t help noticing the accompanying smile was devastating against his tanned face. “Absolutely.” He waved his arm in a sweeping gesture of invitation. “You are free to go. In fact, I’ll escort you myself.”
“No.” She sidled towards the door, ready to dart away at the first threatening move he made. “I don’t need any help.”
His smile did not diminish and it did not mock her in any way. In fact, he enjoyed this. He was intrigued by her bravery. Usually any captive, man or woman alike, either cried hysterically or begged with simpering pleas when faced with the enormity of being captured by Handsome Jack and the crew of Neptune’s Revenge. This girl was different. Obviously afraid–she would be an idiot if she weren’t–still there was a pluck about her that interested him.
And she was exquisite to look at. Even tousled and abused by the storm, he could see she was beautiful. Her sable brown eyes gleamed at him in anger and fear, and her plump lips pursed in frustration. She stood warily near the door, her pretty toes peeking out from under her tattered dress, prepared to dash to freedom.
He extended both hands in front of him, palms open, showing her he had no weapons. He came around the desk as she retreated further towards the door.
“If I’m really free to go then I can do this myself.” Her voice waivered only a little bit, but he could hear the fear she tried so hard to mask with bravado.
“Certainly.” Jack tried to arrange his expression into something a little more serious, but failed miserably. “I’m just coming along to help you with the gang plank.”
She felt around the door when it pressed against her back. Without turning around, she fumbled with the knob, managed to open it, but then stumbled against the lip on the floor. Jack darted forward, intending to catch her before she fell, but she regained her balance and clung onto the door frame with her one free hand. She screamed again as he got closer, so he abruptly stopped and held out his open hands again to show he meant no malice. She reminded him of a skittish kitten, and he couldn’t resist flashing her another broad grin.
“Out the passage to the right.” He gestured with his eyebrows and a nod of his head.
“You’re really going to let me go?”
“You are free to leave this ship right now if that’s what you want,” he assured her again.
She let loose of the door jamb and broke into a run down the hallway in the direction he’d indicated. Jack followed at a leisurely pace, knowing she couldn’t get anywhere.
She clung to the rail of the deck looking out at miles and miles of calm ocean when he exited the gangway and walked up behind her. She whirled away from him and ran to the port side of the ship. Again, all she would see was ocean. She spun around and glared at the pirate behind her.
“There’s no land.” She sounded annoyed.
He smirked at her, smug.
“You said I could go.” She pointed out across the expanse of water. “You said I could go.”
“Yes, you can go.” He nodded and smiled at her with a face as innocent as an angel.
“No I can’t, oh you…you…bastard!” She clamped her hand over her mouth in shocked surprise. Her father would be appalled. And she didn’t even want to think about Rupert. Her fiancé would not be pleased. It would just go to prove what they had always said about her.
“Not exactly, love.” He leaned against the rail next to her. “While I often wished otherwise, I do have a father.”
“But you said...” The tears welled in her eyes again. The lashes weighed heavily with unexpended tear drops.
“What are you accusing me of?” Jack smiled solicitously. “You are certainly free to go.”
She stared at him. Her mouth hung open in shock.
“Or…” He reached for her and she flinched. He moved his hand slower but he continued on and lifted her torn dress to cover her breast. She hadn’t noticed that the fabric was slipping. “Or,” he repeated, “you can come back to my cabin where you can have your wounds tended to and have a warm bath and wash the salt from your skin and comb your hair and sleep in a comfortable bed.” His voice practically purred, but she wasn’t fooled. Roselyn glared at the salacious pirate.
“I’m not going back to your cabin. You must be insane.” Roselyn was a minister’s daughter and a minister’s fiancée. She could not stay in his cabin, and she was certainly not one of his concubines. She had heard of Handsome Jack the pirate and his reputation. It was well known what the crew of the Neptune’s Revenge did with the women they captured.
“Fine then.” He took a step closer to her. The space shrunk, but she resisted the temptation to back away and bravely kept her ground. “You certainly don’t have to come with me. I’m sure the men would be happy to have you below.”
He moved away from the rail and she got a clear view of the sailors on the main deck eyeing her in an unsavory way. While Jack was frightening, those men terrified her. When one of them made what could have only been an obscene gesture, she started and turned back to Jack.
He held out his hand to her.
“No games. You’ll be safe with me. Come back and have a bath and we’ll talk.”
Roselyn hesitated for a second, and then with as much dignity as she could muster, she gathered the tattered remains of her ruined dress and strode past the pirate, ignored his outstretched hand and stalked back down the gangway to his cabin.
She heard him laughing behind her and it only infuriated her more.
Chapter Four
She regarded him, her expression leery, completely prepared to jump and flee if he made a move she didn’t like. Flee to where she didn’t know. The pirate ship was clearly in the middle of the ocean and the only other option was to seek refuge with the sailors, which was really no option at all. So she sat on the bed, poised to run, and watched the giant, still conspicuously half-naked pirate, as he
supervised the filling of the bath tub.
It was difficult not to watch him, and fairly quickly she gave up all pretense of being sly about it. She hated him; that was certain, but his body was simply too divine not to appreciate. The man was very tall, very broad, and very tan. His hair, black as midnight, curled at the ends, and he wore a scarf tied around his head to keep the long locks away from his face. She didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to men’s physiques, in fact, none whatsoever. Not even from art books unless she peeked at them in someone else’s home. Her father considered even classical sculpture sinful. Still, she knew what she liked. There was some sort of primeval knowledge deep inside of her that told her he was a fine specimen. Handsome Jack–if ever there was a perfect name for someone, this was it.
His shoulders were broad and square, and she marveled at the play of the muscles in his back as he helped dump the buckets of water in the bathtub. Completely intrigued by a tan line which appeared just below the waistband of his breeches when he stretched, she averted her eyes before she embarrassed herself further. But most fascinating of all, the area beneath the waistband appeared only slightly less tan than his torso. She blushed at the implication of what a tan rear end would mean. What a rear end it was, too. Everything about the man was muscular and strong.
Without a word, he gestured towards the door. The cabin boy left with the empty buckets.
She was alone with him again.
“What is your name, lovely?” he asked.
“I am Miss Weldon.” She may not be gentry, but she was still a well bred young woman and, thus she used her haughtiest tone. “Soon to be Mrs. Rupert Merickel.”
“Oh, then I’ll be flirting uselessly with a nearly married woman.” He placed his large hand over his naked heart, feigning a pain there. “I am sure my heart will break.”
She didn’t say anything, merely continued to stare at him, her expression nonplussed at his attempt to win her over.
He nodded to the steaming bathtub. “Climb in while it’s still warm.”
“I most certainly will not. Not while you’re in the room.”
He chuckled again. It was very unnerving when he did that. Worse yet, she was beginning to like it a little, despite herself.
“Can I at least help you with your gown since you’ve no lady’s maid to assist you?” He was all solicitation and geniality.
Her heart ached at the reminder of her lost maid. Sally had been a dear girl, not just a helpful maid, but a good traveling companion as well.
“I think you’ve helped me enough with my gown, thank you very much.”
That elicited another sexy chuckle. “Fine, I’ll leave you to it.” He opened a huge wardrobe in the corner and pulled out a shirt. “I’ll return in a bit to see if you need any help washing your back.”
“Get out!” she yelled, pointing at the door. Just as she secretly hoped, she was rewarded with a chuckle. Really, I must stop that – she was an engaged woman, after all. She purposefully thought of Rupert in his starched white shirt and clerical collar. She was fairly confident Rupert didn’t have a tan line anywhere on his body.
Jack lingered outside the cabin and contemplated the lovely Miss Weldon, stripping off her clothes, even now as he stood on the opposite side of the door. He had known that she watched him while he supervised the filling of her bathwater. She had quickly averted her eyes but she didn’t fool him.
One point for the pirate. He mentally ticked off his score card. Jack knew he’d have to take his time with this one; she would be easily spooked.
He listened outside the door only a second before he heard the faintest slosh of water hit the floor and her long, contented sigh when she sank into the warmth. He smiled again as he strode away from his cabin.
A scant half hour later, she heard a perfunctory rap on the door and before she could refuse entry, the door opened and her pirate sauntered in. When did he become my pirate?
“I’m not dressed yet. I’m not even out of the bath,” she screeched, and tried desperately to cover herself with her hands.
“I’m not looking,” he promised. He walked towards the bed, his hands full, and it truly appeared as though he wasn’t looking. He made an exaggerated attempt at covering his eyes when he turned and approached the bath. She pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around her chest.
“I brought clean towels.” He laid some fluffy toweling on the chair next to the bath. “And some soap.”
“Soap?” she asked incredulously. “I’m naked! You need to get out!”
To his credit, he still wasn’t looking at her. “But this is my cabin,” he reminded her. “Where else am I to go? Besides, this is very special soap. Virgins make it in Jamaica from coconut milk.”
“Virgins what?” This man was mad, and maddening. “I don’t care who makes it.”
“Use it on your hair. I also brought you a dress. I’m pretty good with women’s bodies. It will be your size.”
“You seem awfully full of yourself.” She reached forward and snatched the soap from his hand. “I don’t want to wear one of your concubine’s dresses. I won’t put one of those nasty things on.”
Jack picked up the torn and filthy dress and undergarments from the floor. “Well these are ruined. You’re always welcome to wear nothing. In fact,” he bent and gathered the new clothes he’d laid out on the bed, “I think I’d prefer you naked.”
“Wait,” she couldn’t believe she was saying this, “I’ll wear the dress.” It is certainly better than the alternative.
He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
She watched him warily as she lathered the soap and washed her hair. It really did smell marvelous. “I’d like to get out now. The water is getting cold.”
“I won’t look.”
Roselyn sat in the chilly water, her mouth hanging open at the audacity of the man. Unfortunately, she really had no choice. She could either freeze to death in the increasingly colder water, or she could risk his seeing her. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, gathered her bravery and rose from the water, quickly grabbing a towel and wrapping the warm, fuzzy material around herself.
True to his word, he didn’t look. It made the top ten list of hardest things he had ever done.
He had given her as much time in the bath as he dared. He had come by several minutes before and heard her crying. It seemed a perfectly reasonable reaction to all that she’d endured. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he seriously doubted she’d appreciate him pulling her out of the steamy tub and into his arms for a soothing embrace, no matter how much the idea appealed to him. Actually, parts of him were stirring that promised any embrace would not stay soothing for long.
He took several deep breaths to calm the excited parts of his anatomy before he turned to her and offered his hand to assist her from the bath. Her skin was pink from the warmth of the tub, and her hair, free of the salty crust, gleamed in ebony silkiness. She refused to meet his gaze–out of shyness he assumed–and he didn’t press her.
This young woman, alternately brave and timid, captivated him with her mercurial nature. Ever since leaving England, never had a woman not throw herself at him and he was looking forward to the challenge.
Chapter Five
He did insist on helping her with the corset ribbons and buttons. Before she let Jack assist, she dressed as much as she had been able. All that was visible to the pirate was her back in the unbuttoned dress.
The garment was gorgeous; the silk finer than she’d ever had the luxury to put on her body before. It was a rich shade of purple, a color her father would never have let her own. He would have declared it too “proud”. All her dresses were brown or tan or cream. Well, all the dresses she used to own. Now she owned nothing. Everything she owned was at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.
“Well, I was right.” He looked her over with an appreciative eye. “A perfect fit.”
Absurdly, she found herself disappointed to find that her pirate had donned a
shirt. The soft, white linen hung loosely around his torso, the cuffs unbuttoned and the laces undone at the neck. She averted her eyes and even went so far as to cross the room to look out the large porthole when he removed his buff colored breeches and put on black ones and a pair of shiny, black leather boots. When she turned around, she was taken aback. Now the pirate really looked the part. Did he have that earring before? How had she not noticed a thick gold hoop in one ear?
“We’ll have dinner in here tonight. I thought we could talk and get to know each other better.”
“You know everything you need to know about me,” she protested.
“Well then, we’ll play a game.” It wasn’t a suggestion, more of a dictate.
The cabin boy and several other sailors brought in a table and two high backed chairs. In amazement, she watched as they spread a pressed linen tablecloth and set the table with china, crystal and silver. When the meal was brought in, she was further astounded. Roasted pheasant with a fruit sauce, fresh greens and potatoes and a delicate broth soup were placed on the table, all in china dishes. They had certainly never eaten this well on the merchant vessel.
“My lady.” Jack pulled out her chair. She hesitated briefly before she decided to move forward with the peace he extended.
“Thank you.” She sat in the chair with all the decorum she possessed, which had been drilled into her from birth by her exceedingly strict father. “Truly, I had no idea being held captive on a pirate ship would be so comfortable.”
“Need I remind you again that you’re not a captive?”
“Right. I’m free to go anytime I want to dive into the sea and drown,” her voice dripped with sarcasm, the gentle truce in jeopardy.
“We are only about two days from New Providence. Simply swim.”
The Sea Rose Page 2
