by Lisa Olech
When the pirates at the mouth of the cave could no longer get a clear shot at Ric, they turned their pistols on her. A whistling past her ear had her dropping to the deck with a scream.
The sound must have spurred Ric to a final surge of strength because the next thing she knew he was by her side.
“Are you hit?” His hands tugged at her clothing. Was he looking for blood?
“No, are you?” Jocelyn gripped handfuls of his shirt.
Ric ducked as another shot exploded from shore before chipping the mast. “Stay down ‘til we’re out of range. He poked his head up only long enough to steer the ship back to starboard.
“Hey! What the fuck ye think yer doin’?” A man sporting a stained headcloth was marching toward them. He wore soiled pants which were torn short at the hems. His bare feet were filthy. An oily leather vest covered his top half. Or most of the top half that wasn’t hanging out or decorated with inked markings. A wide leather belt held his scabbard.
“Bloody hell…” Ric looked back at Jocelyn and shrugged. “I missed one.”
Standing, Ric spread his arms wide. “Takin’ ‘er for a ride.”
“I don’t fuckin’ think so.” The pirate advancing on him moved to draw his sword, but in the second it took him to lay his hand on the hilt and start to pull the steel from the sheath, Ric rushed him, balled his fist and smashed it into the man’s jaw.
The pirate spun, staggered a step and dropped to his knees, cradling his face. Ric kept advancing. Grabbing the man by the shoulder of his vest, Ric dragged him to his feet shoving him viciously toward the rail, and in one swift movement, grabbed the man’s breeches at the hip and used his momentum to flip him over the railing.
Jocelyn covered her mouth as she heard the man hit the water. Ric was soon back at her side to help her up.
Behind them, the others still fired and hurled curses at them.
“You can get up. They can’t hit us now.” He cupped her check. “Are you okay?”
“Did you hurt your hand?” She pulled his hand away to examine it. Her head was spinning. How could he use the same hand that moments ago crushed a man’s cheek to hold hers with aching gentleness? “You split your knuckle.”
“It’s fine. Need to be checkin’ below. Make sure no more are hiding. Then we can set all the cloth on this tub and get us back to the Scarlet Night.”
“We did it.” She breathed a shaky sigh. Amazement and adrenaline rushed through her, making her tremble.
Ric threw his head back and crowed. “We bloody well did.” He pulled her against his chest and crushed her to him. “You do realize what you’ve done?”
She shook her head, unable now to control the chattering of her teeth.
Ric smiled down at her. “You stole a blasted boat.”
“W-wasn’t that the plan?” She could only blink at him.
“My plan, yes, but you didn’t know that. And I never imagined you’d do the thieving.” He kissed her then. Crushed his mouth against hers. Stealing her breath from her. “But next time, love, do me a favor? Wait another minute for me to get my arse on board?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Chapter 22
“What the hell did ya do wit the skiff?” MacTavish asked as soon as Ric’s feet hit the deck of the Scarlet Night.
Ric turned and lifted Jocelyn the last few feet of the boarding ladder. “We traded it.”
“Building yer fleet already?” piped Summer.
White laughed. “Starting small, are ye?”
“Devil’s Pearl? That ain’t no fit name for a ship.” Dowd was looking like he tasted something rank.
MacTavish stood shaking his head. “Devil’s Shite be more fittin.’ She’s a bloody mess.”
“Bit of scrape, she’ll be fit. Good line to her.” Hornbach argued.
Dowd brightened, “Ye could call her Robbins Nest…get it?” MacTavish cuffed his ear.
“Isn’t my ship. The Devil’s Pearl belongs to its rightful owner. The one which takes it, keeps it. And she can name her whatever she wishes.” Ric jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Jocelyn.
Had he not already loved the woman, what she did on the island--last night and this morning--endeared her to him forever.
She’d been fearless, daring, loving.
There was no one quite like her. Certainly, there were women in his world who were fierce and courageous, but Jocelyn’s bravery came from something inherent, pure. Her upbringing should have made her timid and cautious, but not Jocelyn. In her, he saw a hunger and an honesty, which made her extraordinary.
And when he held her in his arms, that same hunger and honesty translated into a passion he’d never found in another’s bed. He gave a small laugh. Could be he’d found the reasoning for such passion. The lack of a mattress. They’d yet to come together in an actual bed after all.
Last night went beyond beds and mattresses and his supposed prowess. He had wanted to satisfy her not to massage his bruised ego, but for her. Last night had been all about her. That thought alone left him amazed. When had he taken a woman and considered her desires ahead of his own? Never.
In turn, she came alive in his arms. Bloomed like a tropical flower after a rain. The way she moved, the taste of her skin, the sweet sounds of pleasure in her sighs, they had awoken something new in him.
But with this re-birth of sorts for Ric, came the crushing reminder of the futility of it all. She couldn’t stay with him. Jocelyn deserved a beautiful, stunning future. Not one with him.
A pirate’s life was an endless struggle to survive--battles, brutality, starvation, and the perils of a fickle sea. Not to mention the constant threat of being brought to justice for your crimes against crown and country.
Ric watched Jocelyn regale the others with the tale of how they managed to get away. In her torn, dusty skirts and dirt-smudged skin, she looked like a true pirate. Ric was all at once filled with pride and love and a longing for her which refused to be sated. But he also was struck with how wrong it was. She wasn’t one of them. Jocelyn was too good for this. He refused to let her sink any further into becoming a watery thief.
Stealing a sloop was as far as Ric wanted to see Jocelyn’s life of crime extend. He needed to see all of it come to an end, and soon.
“Another two days we’ll be off the coast of Port de Prix.” Ric confirmed. “We’ll make good use of the sloop whatever her name. The Scarlet Night can hold back and Jocelyn and I can sail the Pearl through the needle’s eye of Tortuga harbor.”
“And ye had yer hands on all that treasure, and ye ain’t brought us presents?” huffed MacTavish.
“There be ten cases of French wine and four barrels of black powder in the hold of her. Dowd, you and Bump start carrying it over,” Ric ordered.
Tupper sided up to him. “See ye made good of yer promise to bring her back.”
Ric gave a short laugh before turning away. “Some promises should never be made.”
“What happened on the island?” Tupper fell into step with him. “Caught all night in a rain storm. Ye don’t look like two drowned cats. Find some shelter from the storm, did ya?”
Ric snapped at her. “Since when did you become my mother? You’re not captain yet. I don’t have to answer to you.”
Tupper stopped walking, “Well, well. So that’s te be the way of it.”
Ric turned on his heel. “Be the way of what?”
“It doesn’t take a blind man to see what’s written all over yer face.” Tupper pointed a finger at his nose before leaning close. “You’ve gone and fallen in love with her.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “What of it?”
“Falling in love wasn’t part of your grand plan, Capt’n.”
Ric looked past Tupper’s shoulder. Jocelyn, surrounded by his meager crew, raised her dark rum-colored eyes and held his gaze. It didn’t take a blind man to see what was written on her face either. And when she smiled… “Nay, this
was not the plan at all.”
* * * *
“Give me your clothes. If you can call them that. I’ve seen better rags on a swabber’s mop.” Tupper tossed Jocelyn a drying cloth and some soap.
Jocelyn was admiring the additions to Leviticus’s new home. A stand made from what looked to be old belay pins, and a large cage made from spills. The cage was for sleeping, Tupper informed her. The crow had free rein the rest of the time. Right now, he was happy on his new favorite perch. Tupper’s shoulder.
Jocelyn plucked at her skirts. “And what am I to wear?” Her mind flashed back to the image of a certain red silk dress, with the fitted sleeves and the deep neckline dripping into a beaded bodice. She’d never even gotten a chance to try it on. Ric had been too eager to drape her in jewels, and now some ugly angry pirate was probably using her dress to wipe his nose--or something worse.
Tupper pointed to a small stack of clothes on the corner of the desk. “It was only a matter of time before we got you wearing breeches. I never figured it would take this long.”
“Men’s trousers?” Jocelyn plucked at the pile.
Tupper laughed. “You’ll love them.” She tossed her a belt. “’Course you’re such a spit of a girl, they’re bound to be too big. You’ll need a way to keep ‘em up.”
Jocelyn held the breeches to her waist. The long legs trailed out over her feet. “Couldn’t I just mend my skirts?”
Tupper tipped her head appraising, “Can’t mend parts aren’t there.” She patted her shoulder. “Trust me. It’ll make him crazy.”
Jocelyn frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Women in men’s pants. Makes men a bit mad. It’s like they all of a sudden remember we’ve got legs.” She nudged her with her elbow, “and what lies between them.”
Jocelyn’s cheeks heated.
Tupper continued, “Now I don’t know what happened between you and Ric, and I sure as hell don’t want to…but…I have to hear…stars?”
Jocelyn smiled, unwilling to share the details of her night with Ric. It was as if she’d been given some delicious secret and wanted to keep it near to her heart. Although a part of her desperately needed to ask Tupper whether this feeling of constant wanting ever subsided, or if she’d ever lose the flutter in her belly every time she caught Ric looking in her direction. Would she be able to explain why her soon-to-be-trousered legs seemed to turn to honey? Or could she ask Tupper to help by giving a name to that place…the one lying between…the one Ric seemed intent on, touching and swirling…the one that drove her a bit mad.
A rush of pleasure shot through her thinking about it. “Aye, stars.”
* * * *
Stepping onto the deck a short time later, Jocelyn was struck with the thought of the first time she’d set foot on these boards. She’d lost track of how many days had passed, but it seemed each time she emerged, another small part of who she’d been had somehow fallen away. Today was no exception.
Would the blessed Sister Bernadette have even recognized her? Jocelyn ran her hands down the odd-feeling pants covering her legs. Cropped hair, men’s clothing, her sudden passion for rum, using the word “shite” in conversation, and a consuming desire to wrap her legs around a certain man’s waist. No, Sister Bernadette wouldn’t even know her name.
And yet, with all the change, to Jocelyn’s mind, she was becoming more and more the woman she was always meant to be. As if her life had always been a size too small, and now, for the first time, she could finally breathe.
She caught sight of Ric climbing the rigging to help with setting a sail. She pressed a nervous hand to the flurry triggered in her belly at the mere look of him. How had she found such a beautiful man? And when exactly had she lost her heart to him?
Jocelyn knew the answer. It was odd. That morning felt as if it were a lifetime ago. Standing in the heat of the beating sun, shackled like a slave, when she had searched the crowd for a thread of hope. Any hope. There he was.
She was still looking for a thread of hope. But this time it wasn’t to find him, more to keep him. There had to be some way she could convince him to change his mind about bringing her to Tortuga. She loved him. And he loved her. Didn’t such truths mean they were fated to be together? There had to be a way.
One thing she had learned by fleeing to the island, the thought of never seeing him again had made her heartsick. And now, after the night they’d shared, how could she watch him sail away from her?
She couldn’t. How was she going to convince him to let her stay? It wouldn’t be easy. Who would imagine stealing a skiff, making her way to an island on her own, being overrun and shot at by yet more pirates, and escaping while stealing yet another ship would be simple by comparison?
Chapter 23
Climbing out of the rigging, Ric saw her. Or better yet, he saw her walking away from him. Gone were the torn and ragged skirts Jocelyn been wearing for the last few weeks. The tan britches she had on in their place covered more, but the fabric hugging close to her behind and slipping past each thigh and calf had him adjusting the sudden tightness in his own britches. By rights, it should be his trousers she be in.
Even with her hair shorter and wearing men’s trousers there was no mistaking the fact she was a woman. There was something in the gentle sway of a woman’s walk--correction, this woman’s walk--it reminded him of holding those hips in his hands as he pushed into her.
Glancing around, he noticed he wasn’t the only one enjoying the new landscape of the beautiful Jocelyn Beauchamp.
“Get back to work. All of you. Summer, keep a steady course due west, but keep her far enough from shore to skirt--” his voice broke the word in two, but he recovered with a cough. “those reefs.”
Jocelyn stopped and bent over to roll the bottom hem of each pant leg. Ric stifled a groan as a rush of blood to his cock had him curling his hands into fists. “I-I’ll be below.”
Coming up behind Jocelyn, he hooked her elbow as she straightened. “I need to speak with you.”
She smoothed the fabric over the front of her thighs, “Yes?”
“In private,” he growled as he grasped her arm once more and came close to dragging her below.
“Ric?” She ran to keep up with him.
He didn’t answer and he didn’t stop until they were in her quarters. As soon as the door closed behind them, he pinned her against the rough wood and took advantage of her surprised gasp to ravage her mouth.
Lifting her arms over her head he grasped her wrists in one hand while he swept the other over her body and cupped the gentle curve of her ass pulling her against his erection.
“Good God, Jocelyn. What have you done to me?” He moved a line of kissed down her throat.
“Whatever it was, please tell me so I can do it again,” she whimpered.
He smiled against her collarbone, then gathering control of himself, tipped his head back and huffed like some caged beast.
He released her wrists and guided her arms around his neck before lowering his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help myself around you.”
She cupped his cheek and placed another small kiss upon his lips. “Do you hear me complaining?”
“You should be. Damn it, you should be treated gently, not manhandled against a wall. Or taken on a floor, in the dust. You should be laid in a featherbed with clean white sheets and a mountain of pillows.” He brushed his hand across her breast and held its weight in the cup of his palm. “You deserve so much better.”
Jocelyn ran her fingers inside the open neck of his shirt to caress his skin. “I don’t care about any of those things. None of it matters as long as I’m with you.”
Slipping a hand around her waist, he held her close for a long moment. She rested her cheek on his chest and wrapped her arms about him. He loved how she tucked under his chin as if she’d been made for him. If only he could stay this way forever. Stop time.
Or better yet, turn the clock
s back. Erase months and years and find her before his life’s path had been decided. He’d have chosen better. For her. He’d have changed his course and become something worthy of her. Something honorable.
“We should be anchoring tomorrow after daybreak,” he whispered. “By the time the sun sets on another day, you’ll be back where you belong.”
“Feels like I’m where I belong right now.” She held tight.
The words caught in his throat. He simply shook his head.
“We still have tonight?” Jocelyn pulled back enough to look into his eyes.
Ric fingered the dark curls at her temple before brushing them away from her cheek and tucking their softness behind her ear. “Aye, we still have tonight.”
She studied the open neck of his shirt. Laying a hand there again. Over his heart. “I-I don’t want to spend my last hours in this room. I’ll have an endless future of doors with locks. I’d like to be on deck. Surrounded by the night sky. Sea air. You.” She lifted her gaze. “Spend the night with me?”
“And wrap you in stars?”
Jocelyn closed her eyes and pulled in a shuddered breathe as she nodded. A single tear slipped beneath her eyelid and began a silvery path down her cheek.
He caught it with his thumb.
* * * *
Ric spent the rest of the afternoon finishing the entries in the ship’s log and trying to put the rest out of his mind. Tomorrow with the raising of a sail and the wave of a quill, he’d return things to their rightful place and go back to being a simple forward gunner.
Jocelyn was leaving. Tupper was ready to take command of the Scarlet Night once again. They could get back to life before fate had thrown them into the middle of this storm.
Things wouldn’t be as they were, of course. Too much had happened. Gavin and Neo and the rest of the crew were lost, but with a new crew and Tupper at the helm, at least they would go back to doing what they did best. Pirating. Laying siege to prey. Engaging in the fight. Battling for their lives through smoke and cannon fire and blood.
