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What a Pirate Desires

Page 9

by Michelle Beattie


  “Easy, darling. This isn’t the time or place.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “But it’s coming.”

  His breath and words caressed her as he laid her down. She felt the loss of heat immediately. He tucked her in as a parent might a child, though desire was still ripe in his eye.

  “Get some sleep, Samantha. I’ll help Willy with the ship.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Judging by the bruise on your cheek and the blood on your face, you must have been hurt as well.”

  He paused, as though surprised she cared, then shrugged. He rubbed his belly with a swollen hand. “Nothing serious,” he answered.

  Only when the hatch closed behind him did she breathe. Dear Lord, what was getting into her? Luke was a pirate. He, like Dervish, lived to take from other people, to pillage and destroy. Hadn’t she seen today, on her own ship, the damage that pirates wreaked? Hadn’t she dirtied her own hands with innocent blood by being part of it all? How was it she’d been able to forget all that when he held her close?

  She rolled to her side, on her uninjured arm. Her heart was heavy in her chest. Two men had died on her ship today. Unnecessary deaths. Her own crew had suffered injuries, as had her ship. And for what? For a few pieces of eight? Some flour, salt, and fresh meat? Extra ammunition so they could do it all over again?

  A tear slipped from her eye and wandered warmly down her cheek. She was sick of it. All she wanted was for Dervish to pay, and then maybe, just maybe, she could finally put her family’s massacre to rest and have a normal life. But in the meantime she was no better than the man who haunted her soul. She might not gain any satisfaction from hurting and looting, but she did it all the same. A means to an end, perhaps, but a dirty one.

  She shut her eyes against the pain. Not from her arm, but from the reminder of everything she’d lost, everything she ached for each day. And everything she’d become. How could she hold piracy against Luke when she’d stepped knowingly into the same role? She had to find Dervish. Thanks to Luke they were close, so very close. It had to end soon. Before revenge and death gnawed away any more of her soul.

  The hatch opened silently and Luke crept down the ladder. He must have thought her asleep by the careful ways he tried not to make any noise.

  “Man in cabin. Man in cabin.”

  He tiptoed to the cage, and whispered threateningly, “I’ll have you for supper if you don’t shut your beak.”

  “You touch my bird and I’ll see to it the sharks have you for supper.”

  He turned, frowning. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

  “If you’d stay out of my cabin, perhaps I could.”

  His face was clean again, and now he was shirtless. The bronze skin beneath the curtain of chains looked smooth as polished wood. Her fingers itched to touch, so she dug them into the covers.

  “Willy didn’t want my help. Cursed me blue, then enlisted three other of your men to help instead. So I cleaned up, and thought I’d—well, I figured I’d just . . .”

  Luke looked around helplessly. The gold sash trailed down a lean thigh, swaying slightly with his movement. Something warm spilled from her heart when she realized what he was up to. No one, save her family or Joe, had ever shown concern for her. Her heart did a silly roll.

  “Spit it out,” she said, longing for the words she’d never heard from a man before. Words that would go a long way to heal the inner scars she’d created today.

  He glared at her, catching on to her tactics. “You know damn well, so there’s no need to be telling you. Now, why aren’t you asleep?”

  “You haven’t given me enough time.”

  He muttered something, then suddenly went quiet. “You’ve been crying.”

  Sam wiped the tear she’d forgotten she’d shed. It would have shamed her for Luke to see it if he wasn’t squirming in his worn boots.

  “I was thinking about those men who were killed today. By our own pistols.”

  His casual shrug bothered her.

  “We gave them a chance,” he said. “Wasn’t our fault they had a foolish captain.”

  No, it wasn’t. But it didn’t take away the facts. No amount of scrubbing would ever wash their blood from her deck. Or her mind. Because she felt her eyes burning, she turned onto her side, her back to Luke.

  “I’m tired. I’ll be up later.”

  His breathing wasn’t exactly ragged, but neither was it normal. Just off cadence enough for Sam to recognize he was troubled. Funny how well she’d come to know him already.

  The bed sagged under his weight. Sam didn’t move as he settled in behind her and pulled her close. Her mind screamed “pirate.” Her heart calmly replied “comfort.”

  His heat enveloped her, his breath caressed her neck while his arm slid boldly over her waist to tuck her in close. She couldn’t bring herself to order him to leave. For some reason, Luke wanted to be there as much as she needed him to be. It was as simple as that.

  Sam closed her eyes, expecting the battle to run over and over through her mind, as they usually did. Instead, there was nothing but the reassurance that for this moment, she wasn’t alone. Sighing deeply, she sank into an untroubled sleep.

  At the first groan of the hatch opening, Luke turned. Samantha lay snug against him, and he was ready to blast the man who’d dared interrupt her rest. And his rather colorful fantasies.

  Squawk. “Man in cabin. Man in cabin.”

  Joe shushed the bird with a quick command and stepped down. He stopped when his gaze fell on Samantha’s berth. His eyes turned mutinous.

  “Get the hell away from her, ye mangy, flea-bitten rat.”

  Luke grinned, though he knew his life was at stake when Joe stalked across the room. “Easy, mate. Our fair lady simply needed her rest.”

  He’d kept his voice low so as not to wake her, and Joe did the same, though his face flamed and his breath puffed from the effort.

  “Aye, she did. That don’t explain yer presence in her bed. Get out so’s I can kill ye without harming the capt’n.”

  “I’ll get out when I’m ready, and not a minute before.”

  Joe swelled like a dead fish on a hot beach. “I’m telling ye yer ready now.”

  Luke sighed. “Look. Have you not noticed we’re both dressed? She’s had a hard day, all right? I’m not about to take advantage of that fact.”

  It took a few breaths before Luke saw Joe’s fists open at his sides. Anger was replaced with regret.

  “I know it. She hates taking ships. Bloody shame there had to be bloodshed. That’ll make it worse.”

  It was damned aggravating to have Joe tell him so easily what he himself had struggled to figure out.

  “That’s right. So you’ll let her be.”

  Joe looked back to Samantha and exhaled deeply. “Would if I could, but it’s her turn.”

  Luke arched his neck and saw Joe was right. Dusk had fallen outside the little window without his realizing.

  “Let her sleep. I’ll take her post tonight.” Luke slid reluctantly away from Samantha. The loss of her heat and softness was a tangible thing.

  The first mate was shaking his head. “She’s a capt’n, Luke. Ye know better’n I what that means. She’d be cursing me to hell itself if I let her sleep through. Duty bound, she is, to keep up her responsibilities to her crew.”

  It really was galling the way Joe knew her so well. Luke grimaced. “I’ll wake her. She’ll be on deck in a moment.”

  They stared each other down, each trying to win this silent battle over Samantha. But Luke, with a fair chunk of pride on the line, fought to win.

  “I believe that until Samantha relieves you, you’re in charge on deck, are you not? If she doesn’t shirk her duties, do you think she’ll he happy to know you’ve ignored yours by being down here?”

  Joe sputtered. “ ’Twas only to come wake her.”

  “Anyone else could have done that. Besides, I’m here, so I’ll do the waking.”

  “She don’t like nobody els
e in her cabin.”

  His pointed look said he still wasn’t pleased Luke had changed all that.

  Luke glanced down at Samantha. Her lips were slightly parted, her face flushed in sleep. The body that had pressed against him for a few glorious hours remained curved onto its side, one hand in front of her face, the other tucked underneath her ear.

  No other man had ever been in her cabin. Interesting. So he was gaining more ground than he’d realized. She trusted him, at least a little. Maybe she hadn’t at first, but she did now. Why else would she allow him to be where she’d not let anyone else?

  But like a starving man, a little wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Luke intended to have it all.

  The silence that coasted on the waves was a blessed relief after the noise that had bombarded Sam most of the day. The hole in the ship was patched, for now. Willy’s thudding hammer and screeching saw were thankfully at rest.

  The plunder had been divided after the evening meal, and it had felt like endless hours as each man boasted how he was going to spend his share. And each one, it seemed, had to tell his story louder than the one before. But now it was just her, the sea, and her nightly mug of coffee with Joe before he retired.

  Tonight something was different, though. Joe was uncomfortable, extremely so. His feet toyed with a coiled rope on deck and he swallowed repeatedly, though he’d yet to drink from his mug.

  When she’d followed Luke above deck earlier, after he’d awakened her, she’d seen the dismay on Joe’s face. All day she’d felt the lecture coming, and knew by the way Joe was acting that the time had finally come.

  “Miss Samantha,” Joe cleared his throat. “We need to talk about Luke.”

  She’d done nothing wrong, yet his tone made her feel as though she was twelve years old. There would be no distracting him, no matter how uneasy he was. When Joe got a thought into his head, it came out only one way. Through his mouth.

  “Say your piece, Joe. It’s been gnawing at you all day.”

  “That it has. How did ye know?”

  She laughed. “By the way you glared at Luke, ready to skin him alive if he stepped too close to me.” Her voice lowered. “By the look in your eyes when you looked at me.”

  Joe took a long, slow drink. “I’ve had a terrible feelin’ ever since he’s come aboard. I don’t trust ’im.”

  “Yes, I think everybody knows that, especially Luke. But we were running in circles without him. Now things will go much faster.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered into his mug as he drank.

  Sam shook her head. “I thought that’s what we both wanted. To make Dervish pay.”

  “Aye, that I do. More’n me life. ’Tisn’t what I meant, though.” He shoved the rope aside. “I’m seein’ somethin’ between ye and Luke. And with yer parents gone, the task lies with me to discuss, er, certain things.”

  There was no telling which of them was more embarrassed. Sam studied her shoes.

  “He saved my life today.”

  Joe snorted. “He could’ve killed ye!”

  Samantha looked him in the eye. “But he didn’t.”

  “Ye were but a foot away. When I saw Luke point and shoot, me heart stopped dead.” He shook the disturbing thought aside. “But yer distractin’ me. ’Twasn’t what I was talkin’ about.”

  No it wasn’t, and she’d known it. “You’re referring to him sleeping in my cabin? I told you there was nothing to that. You saw us yourself, fully dressed.”

  “Aye, Samantha, I did. But yer only foolin’ yerself if ye think that was nothin’. I can promise ye Luke thinks there was a mite more to it than that.”

  There was no point arguing with him. There was no way to explain to Joe what she herself didn’t yet understand.

  “Ye know what he’s after, don’t ye?”

  Sam’s stomach lurched with a wave. Dear Lord, he went straight to the heart of the matter. She took a breath for courage and faced him.

  The light from below squeezed through the latices on the hatches and skimmed over Joe’s features. His eyes were lost in shadows, but she felt their conviction. His mouth was set and his hands were locked in a battle against each other. There was no mistaking his nervousness. And there was no hiding from it either.

  “Whose intentions are you questioning, his or mine?”

  Joe took a breath that strained three buttons on his shirt.

  “His.” He sighed worriedly. “And yours.”

  “I see.” She took a large gulp of coffee, wishing that for once he’d laced it with rum. “Joe, you know what happened on the plantation. I’m not innocent any—”

  He held up a scarred hand. “Yes, ye are. What that man did to ye was unspeakable. It was robbery, plain and simple. He stole a part of yer innocence, but he didn’t take it all.”

  As Joe seemed to be gathering steam, Sam leaned back and let him finish.

  “There’s more to what happ’ns between a man and woman than what that animal showed you. ’Twas what was between yer parents.”

  He stepped through the curtain of darkness. Understanding tumbled from his eyes.

  “ ’Tis natural ye should look to find it. But Luke’s not the man.”

  Sam toyed with her empty mug, needing a release from what was bubbling within her. “After what Mr. Grant did, what makes you think I want another man to touch me?”

  Joe angled his head to the side. “Don’t ye? I’ve noticed ye’ve allowed him closer than anyone else. I’ve eyes, lass. I see ye looking out for ’im. I see the way ye perk up when he’s on deck. And I see the hunger in his eyes.”

  Sam’s stomach twisted in a knot.

  He rubbed the beard that covered his lower face. “I hate that look, it drives me mad. He’ll hurt ye, Samantha. He’ll take what he wants and leave, that’s the way of ’im.”

  It was, and she knew it, though it hurt to have someone else say it.

  “I know that, Joe.”

  “ ’Tisn’t wise to follow this course. If he gets his hands on ye, it won’t be him left hurtin’ in the end.”

  Tears spilled from her eyes. She was so afraid of her emotions for Luke. If he wasn’t in sight, she wondered where he was and what he was up to. If he was on deck with her, she found herself grasping each word or brief touch, tucking them away in a secret part of her heart.

  She knew to the bottom of that very same heart that he was nothing more than a liar and a thief. The blood she had on her hands was nothing to what he had on his. It was men like him who had ripped her family from her life. And once she was gone from the Revenge, he would go back to pillaging and plundering. And whoring. She’d be nothing more than another conquest.

  Yet woven amid the wanting and the knowing was a certainty that no matter what she thought or believed, their coming together was inevitable.

  “I’d envisioned a life for myself, Joe, before my parents were killed. There would have been a wedding to a fine man, babies, as much love as a heart could hold. We’d have a home where our children would grow strong and secure in the warmth of family.” She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Just like what I’d been given as a child.

  “But it died with my family. Everything changed after being in Mr. Grant’s employ. After that horrible night.”

  The bloody image shot forth in her memory, and Sam staggered from the impact. He’d raped her only once. The second time he’d tried, she’d been ready. The hammer had done its job. She hadn’t lingered to ensure he was dead, but the amount of blood pouring from his head onto the floor had terrified her out of the room. After she’d told Joe, he had snuck back to make sure. Mr. Grant was still alive, but Joe hadn’t expected him to live much longer.

  Joe shook his head. “Luke’s not yer answer, lass. ’Tis a mistake. One ye’ll regret.”

  She released the tiller to Joe so she could pace. “I know he’s a pirate, Joe. Dammit, I know that. But he’s shown me tenderness. A tenderness I’d never have thought possible from him.
A tenderness I never realized I needed.” She squeezed her eyes against the pain pushing at the walls of her chest.

  When she opened them again, Joe was shaking his head. “Well, he’s not likely to show his true colors yet, is he? It’s a ruse, to get yer defenses down.” He grabbed her as she stepped in front of him. “ ’Twould break me heart to watch ye suffer again.

  “The pain I used to see in yer eyes tore me in half, lass. The little girl who followed me every move so I’d teach her to sail died on that plantation. Ye stopped smiling.” His hand cupped her cheek. “I’d never seen such empty eyes.”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “Yer just startin’ to chase away those shadows. We’re so close to Dervish. Soon as he’s dead, ye can move on and do yer family proud. Getting tangled with Luke will only suck ye back under.”

  Sam stepped back, away from Joe’s touch and his words. She circled around him and took the tiller back.

  There’d been a time she never would have thought herself capable of wanting a man. But lately it wasn’t Mr. Grant’s pawing hands she saw when she closed her eyes. She didn’t think of pain and indignity, she thought of being held in Luke’s comforting embrace. She saw the desire in his eye, yet felt his resistance. He wasn’t pushing her, but giving her the time to wonder and want.

  “He’s not Mr. Grant, Joe. Luke won’t take anything I’m not willing to give.”

  Joe cringed. “No, he’ll hurt ye more, and it won’t be only yer body this time.”

  She looked up at the moon hanging in the sky like a ripe banana and drew a ragged breath.

  “I’ve told myself everything you’re telling me. It doesn’t seem to make any difference. I’m not sure I have the will to fight what’s coming.” She faced him again, hoping he wouldn’t turn from her if she chose to give herself to Luke. “I’m not sure I want to. Can you understand that? Please?”

  He wiped her cheeks dry, then tucked a finger under her chin and raised her head to his. His eyes were as stormy as hers. “If he hurts ye, he’ll see the same fate Mr. Grant did.” Steely determination hardened his features. “I promise ye that.”

 

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