A Pirate's Heart (St. John Series)

by Lora Thomas

  “Ow,” Max replied with mock pain, as he rubbed the side of his temple.

  Knowing she had managed to cause a small amount of pain to her new captor, a small smirk crossed her face. She grabbed another biscuit and hurled it at him. He ducked this time and her missile landed with a small noise on the floor behind him. She grabbed another one.

  His menacing expression changed to a humorous one. “Well, at least I know if we ever run out of cannonballs we could use James’s biscuits instead.” He rubbed his temple again. His eyes settled back onto her and a new expression came over him as he viewed her current state of dress. In her hurry to get away from him, the left side of the shirt had dropped low, exposing her breast, and her dark nipple had pebbled from the coolness of the room. “Well, this is an unexpected invitation,” he said huskily, his eyes never leaving her breast.

  Her eyes traveled to what he was viewing. “Oooooo!” she screeched as she yanked the oversized shirt back up to her shoulder. “Is that all you ever think of. Firs,t at the tavern—”

  “At the tavern?” he interrupted.

  “—then when you first saw me, and now … now!” she kept saying, not allowing his interruption to distract her from her tirade.

  “I knew it! You were the one following me.” A look of shock and surprise crossed Kristina’s face. Her expression was the answer that Max needed. “So you followed me in hopes of what? Stealing from me?” His voice was menacing.

  Upon seeing his expression, Kristina’s heart raced as panic set in. Never in her entire life had she seen such an intimidating look from someone. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How dare he accuse her of being a thief when that’s exactly what he was!

  “If I had wanted to steal from you, I would have, without you even knowing it,” she lied. “No, I wasn’t planning on stealing from you. I was looking for a way off that Godforsaken island! A way to get back home! I overheard your conversation with that blond fellow and thought that you might help me! But nooooo … you had to be pirates!”

  Max studied her, confusion entering his expression. “Help you? How?”

  “Never mind.” She held up her hand in disgust. Twisting her head sassily, she continued, “You can just drop me off at the next island, inhabited or not. I’ll take my chances there rather than with pirates!” She infused the word “pirate” with as much contempt as she could muster.

  This was escalating beyond control. Max usually never lost his temper with the fairer sex. He found their company too appealing, too entertaining to argue. But this wasn’t his usual situation in dealing with women. He normally only dealt with tavern wenches, who were willing to please if the price was right. But she was different. He took a long deep breath and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked at her. She was putting on a brave front, but he could sense her fear. He could hear her mumble about pirates needing to meet a horrible demise and wondered what other encounters she had had with pirates.

  “Look,” he began. “We have gotten off on the wrong foot. Let’s start again.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Oh, no! You started off on a marvelous foot. Insinuating I was a … a … a puta!”

  “A what?” he asked, drawing his brows together with confusion.

  “Whore!”

  “Well, yes? What was I supposed to suspect? A woman on board this ship, in my bed, wearing my shirt, and only my shirt, I assume?”

  “Well, you know what they say when you assume something?” she piqued. Why on earth had she decided before even meeting this man that she wanted to marry him?

  “My name’s Max. What’s yours?” She didn’t answer, just kept staring at him wondering what he was up to. He took a deep calming breath and softened his tone. “Oh, come on. You surely have a name?” She still didn’t answer. “No? Well, then, I’ll just have to call you … Attila.”

  “Attila! That’s a horrid name! My name is Kris—” She stopped not wanting to give him her name.

  “Your name is Chris? You have a boy’s name?” he asked in a gentle manner.

  “No, not Chris. Kristina,” she admitted reluctantly, his soft tone making her guard slowly come down.

  “Well, Kristina, Alex was right. A pirate ship is no place for a woman, even if we did just leave Tortuga. You would be too much temptation for anyone.” He studied her. She was stunning, sensual, exotically breathtaking. Max shook the thoughts from his head. “About a third of our crew are newly acquired from our last stop at George Town and Tortuga. It would be difficult to protect you from twenty or so randy men, if you get my meaning.”

  “Well, what do you expect me to do?” she questioned, with sarcasm in her voice. “Cut my hair and grow a beard? Not likely.”

  “Your gender will be easy enough to hide. It will just be what you are doing here, that will be the hard part. Do you have any skills?” he asked as his eyes traveled the length of her body. He was going to have to cover her up with something. She was too tempting by half. Even though he had had several good romps in Tortuga, she made him want her without even trying.

  “I’m not doing that!” she replied heatedly as she watched his expression.

  “I wasn’t suggesting it, now was I?” he shot back. “Not that it wouldn’t be a good idea, but no. What did you do before you took up becoming a stowaway?”

  What was she thinking? Why did she ever get a harebrained notion that he would make a suitable husband? Her fingers tightened around the hard biscuit in her hand. An idea sprang into her mind. “Cook,” she blurted out.

  “Cook?” Max repeated in surprise. Never in a million years did he think this beauty before him knew how to cook. A pensive look crossed Max’s face. “Now, that’s not a bad idea. I know James would be thrilled to be out of the galley, as would the rest of us. He’s been trying to kill us with his cooking for weeks now, since our last cook died.”

  “So what does this mean?” she asked suspiciously.

  A grin crossed Max’s face. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a disguise as a cook on board The Abyss,” he replied smugly. Max motioned his head towards the bed. “You can sleep there. I’ll take the floor.”

  She really wasn’t sleepy after her nap. “You’re giving me your bed?”

  “Unless you want to share?” She hurled another hard biscuit at his head, hitting his chest instead. He crossed the distance to her in a quick stride and took the remaining biscuits from the table beside her. “Hey, those horrid things are my supper. They’re not much, but better than nothing.” She watched him gather the hardly edible mini biscuits in his large hands.

  Her growling stomach broke the tension in the room. With a reluctant sigh, he looked at the remaining biscuits, then her. He divided his meal in half and handed it to her. She graciously accepted the food. It had been several days since she had last eaten. As she took a bite, she made a disgusted face. She heard him laugh at her expression.

  “You’re right. These things are horrible. How long have you had to suffer these awful meals?”

  “Too long. But rest assured, even if you don’t know the first thing about cooking, it would be better than James’s. He’s a hell of a bos’n, but a piss poor cook.”

  “Trust me. I know a thing or two about preparing meals.”

  “Good to know. Just know you need to prepare mass quantities. There are over seventy crewmembers on board. Ration what you can, but don’t be stingy.” She nodded her head at the understanding.

  They ate in silence after that. She was still leery about the current situation. Pirates could not be trusted. As she watched the handsome devil, she wondered if he might be the exception. He had not tried to harm her, but they had just met. How was she to know that the second she was in bed he would not try to hurt her? As she watched him, she realized that there would be no way in this world that she could defend herself from this strong man in front of her. When her body was pressed to his, she could feel every muscle as they rippled across his body.
There was no doubt in her mind that he knew how to handle himself in any situation, regardless if he had a weapon or not.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by his deep voice. “Better get some sleep. You’ll rise early.”

  She nodded and squeezed past him, trying not to touch him; the heat from his last touch was still too disturbing to her. She crawled back into his bed, bent down towards his fallen gear and quickly picked up his pistol.

  He watched her with curiosity. “If that makes you feel safe, by all means sleep with it. Just don’t shoot your fool self.”

  She glared at him and laid down, clutching the pistol in her hand. She could hear the chair creak as he sat down. Lying there, the tension left her body as she realized he wasn’t going to touch her, and she began to get drowsy. Funny, but she didn’t think she would be sleepy after sleeping the entire day.

  As she began to drift off to sleep, she heard him reply, “For someone who hates pirates, you’ve just become one. Good night, pie-rat.”

  His last response ended up with him being hit with one of the pillows. She lay back down followed by his laughter.

  Chapter Seven

  Kristina was sleeping soundly. Her mother was talking to her. Kristina smiled as she felt her mother’s hand stroke her hair in a relaxing manner. Her mother’s gentle touch had a soothing affect. Sophia smiled warmly at her daughter.

  “He’ll be good to you, daughter. But you must give him time. Make him trust you.”

  “Who?” Kristina asked.

  “The dark-haired devil,” Sophia replied.

  “Who?” Kristina asked again, furrowing her brow.

  “The pirate.”

  “The pirate?!” Kristina asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. He has had a hard life, but he is a good man. Make him trust you.”

  “But I don’t know how.”

  “You will. Just use your heart,” Kristina heard her mother say as her image began to disappear into a fog.

  “Mother!” Kristina yelled as she chased after the misty figure. The figure grew farther and farther way. “Wait! Come back!” The faster Kristina ran, the farther her mother’s departing image grew. Kristina outstretched her hand as Sophia disappeared into the fog.

  Kristina was rudely awakened from her dream by a heavy object landing on top of her. “Here, put these on.”

  She glanced sleepily up from the covers and noticed the clothing lying on top of her. She blinked rapidly several times, trying to get the image of her dream to leave her mind.

  “Where did you get these?” she asked, her voice husky from sleep.

  “Never you mind,” Max replied. “Let’s just say we have someone here close to your size. I’ll wait for you outside. Now hurry, it’s getting late and the capt’n will want his breakfast.”

  Once the door closed, Kristina slowly sat up. She batted her eyes several more times trying to wake up. She placed the pistol she had clutched all night on the floor and gave a lazy stretch. She picked up the articles of clothing. There was a pair of gray pants; a blue shirt with long, puffy sleeves that were cuffed at the wrists; and a heavy black leather vest. She dressed quickly in the clothing. The pants were entirely too long for her short stature, so she rolled the bottoms up and tucked them into her boots. She braided her long hair, twisted it into a bun and put on the hat from yesterday.

  As she stepped out the door, she could not tell what time it was. The only light in the hall was coming from the few small lanterns on the wall. She could hear movement of the crew on the deck above as she followed Max to the galley.

  “If you need anything, just let me know.”

  She nodded her head and looked up at him. “How will I find you?”

  He took his hand and rubbed it down his mouth and across the beard that covered his face. A devilish smile crossed his face causing the large dimple on his left cheek to appear.

  “I’ll be right back.” As he exited the door she heard him yell, “Samuel! Get your ass down here, boy!” A few minutes later the door reopened and in walked Max with a blond-haired boy. “Your messenger,” he said with a mock bow.

  Samuel looked at Max and back to Kristina. “What’s going on?” he asked cautiously. As he looked at Kristina, his eyes grew wide. “Hey! Those are my clothes!”

  “Your point being, boy?” Max replied.

  “Why did you give him my clothes?”

  “Never you mind. It’s done. Kris needs help, and you’re going to help. That’s final.”

  Samuel looked back at Max strangely. The captain would have told him if they had hired a new cook and he was to be the assistant. Not that it would matter about a new cook; anybody would be better than James, but still.

  “Does the capt’n know ya hired a new cook?” Samuel asked with suspicion in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Really?”

  “Are you doubting me, Samuel?” Max asked with annoyance.

  “No but—”

  “Enough!” Kristina interrupted, already growing tired of the back-and-forth banter between the two.

  Samuel sucked in his breath, “You’re a girl!”

  “Aw, hell,” Max mumbled. He grabbed Samuel by the shoulders and turned the boy towards him. “Look, Samuel, you have to keep that a secret. Understand?” The boy ignored the question as he strained to look at Kristina. “Samuel!” Max barked. Samuel snapped to attention and looked at Max. “Do not tell anyone her gender, understand?” At Samuel’s nod, he continued. “Good, it’s for her safety. If the new crew found out about her, it would be hard to protect her. The others I don’t worry about.”

  Samuel attempted to turn around to stare at Kristina. His eyes widened. “The capt’n’s gonna kill you! He doesn’t allow women on his ship.”

  “He already knows, so hush. Your job is to help her and stay the hell out of my way. Got it?” Max said smugly. He finally had a place to put Alex’s son. A place where Samuel would be useful, safe and out of his way once and for all.

  Samuel nodded as Max walked out the door. He turned to Kristina.

  “Let’s get to work, Samuel,” she said. He stared at her for a few seconds, like she had spoken in some strange ancient tongue, her thick Spanish accent making it difficult for him to understand. When her words sunk in, he walked over to one of the large ovens and proceeded to help.

  The two of them worked for almost two hours preparing the meal for the seventy plus crew members aboard The Abyss. Kristina didn’t mind the work. It reminded her of the days helping her mother. And Samuel was a big help. They talked about small things. He gave her the names and roles of most of the crewmembers. She watched as he pulled down a heavy tray from one of the cabinets and filled it with food.

  “I’ll take this to the capt’n and Max,” he told her. “Once I return, I’ll help you take the rest out to the tables for the crew. I’ll hurry so we’ll have it done before they come to eat.”

  As Samuel entered the captain’s quarters, he was nervous. Did the captain know about Kris? Samuel found that hard to believe. Alex had been adamant about not letting women on board his ship. He set the large tray down on the table where Alex usually ate and looked apprehensively at the captain.

  The delicious aroma of the food filling the room caught Alex’s attention as he sat on the edge of the bed. He stood up, pulled his robe over his naked form, walked over to the table and sat down.

  “Did James finally learn to cook?” Alex asked as he studied the covered dishes.

  Samuel said nothing, just smiled nervously at the captain as he took the lids off the food. Alex pulled the tray towards him and looked at the feast before him. There were numerous pastries, sausages, and sugar-covered tortillas; each one appeared freshly made.

  “Samuel?” Alex questioned the boy. “Where did these come from?”

  “The galley, sir,” Samuel replied nervously.

  “I figured that out,” he said with sarcasm in his voice. “What I want to know is how? I know James doesn’t know the first thi
ng about making muffins.” He picked up the tiny delicious smelling pastry. Alex looked back down at his tray and spied the tortilla. “He didn’t?!”

  “I … I … I need to go back to the galley now,” Samuel replied nervously as he headed quickly towards the door.

  Samuel’s hand was on the doorknob when he heard the captain yell, “Samuel, stop!” Samuel closed his blue eyes and groaned. He turned and proceeded cautiously towards the captain, his eyes never leaving the floor.

  “I take it Max has decided we needed a new cook and that his new roommate would be perfect for that position. Is that correct?”

  Samuel’s eyes flew up to Alex’s. “I … he … I thought—”

  “She’s the cook.” Alex said matter-of-factly.

  Samuel nodded his head nervously. Max was going to kill him. “Please don’t tell him I told you,” Samuel begged. “She’s nice and her food is so much better than James’s. Plus, she doesn’t mind me helping her like everyone else does. Let her stay.”

  Samuel’s confession pained Alex. He knew Samuel was having a hard time adjusting to life at sea and frequently mucked up whatever task was given to him. Alex took a long slow breath and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could reply the devil himself walked in. “Go back to the galley, Samuel. I have some things I need to discuss with Mr. Hart.”

  Samuel didn’t have to be told twice. He knew from the tone the captain had that a heated discussion was about to occur. Samuel raced quickly out the door, without looking at Max.

  When the door closed, Alex glared at Max. “What?” Max asked innocently as he walked to the table. He sat down, picked up one of the tiny pastries and popped it into his mouth. “These are delicious. Have you tried them yet?”

  “No,” Alex replied with irritation.