Passion's Tide

by Sarah West

  Eli’s eyes narrowed. “Keeping an eye on her, Logan?”

  “Something like that,” he said as he swept his hat off the table and left.

  Sitting at the wooden table, Amber squinted against the harsh sunlight streaming into the cabin, which seemed brighter than any other morning. That and her throbbing head did nothing to help her foul mood. So when she heard the door open behind her, she simply lifted a hand, directing Johnny to drop the clothes on the bed and leave. She was not prepared for the voice that pushed its way through the fog of her mind.

  “How’s your head feeling?”

  Closing her eyes against the intruding sound, which echoed loudly through her skull, she sighed. “I feel great, thanks for asking. Now leave.”

  And then he was in front of her, or at least she thought the blurry vision that kept going in and out of focus resembled Logan. He was carrying a pitcher of water and a mug, and went through the motions of pouring her some. He slid it in front of her, but she turned away.

  “You should drink it, it will help.” She didn’t respond, and he tried again. “You have what’s called a hangover, Amber.”

  She jumped to her feet. “Good lord, Logan, I’m not a complete imbecile!” She caught hold of the edge of the table for support as she turned on him. “I know what a hangover is, believe it or not. I also know how to read, write, do arithmetic, and oh, I even know where babies come from!”

  “While we’re on the subject—”

  “No. Absolutely not. The subject is closed, off-limits forever. What happened was a mistake…now stop moving around so much, I can’t focus on you!”

  He grabbed her arm to keep her steady. “Amber, I’m not moving. And we need to talk about what happened last night.”

  “Nothing happened,” she said defensively as she pulled her arm from his grasp, stumbling in the process.

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”

  “I know no such thing. Now leave.”

  “Not until you stop pretending that you weren’t affected by our actions. Something happened; you must have felt it too.”

  “I felt nothing for you. I feel nothing for you. Now go away!” She planted a palm against his chest and shoved, but only succeeded in pushing herself backwards, tripping over a chair and catching herself at the last moment. With her last remaining shred of dignity she flipped her hair over her shoulder and stalked past the fuming pirate, who watched her through stormy eyes. She approached the pile of clothes on the bed, picking up the shirt and holding it against her body. “This isn’t the shirt I had last night.”

  “That one got ripped, remember?” he asked, pleased to see a flush cover her pale face. “So it did affect you, didn’t it?” She turned and faced the bed, clutching the shirt between her hands like a lifeline. He approached her. “Now, I’m curious sweetheart, are you upset about what happened, or about what didn’t happen?” He felt the pain before he realized that she had stomped down on his foot.

  Chiding himself for taunting her, he limped across the room and settled down into one of the chairs. Her hand moved to the hem of her nightdress, and then she looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you mind?”

  “Actually, yes.” He turned though, allowing her a tiny bit of privacy. “Why are you doing this, anyway?”

  “Doing what? Refusing to let myself be a burden to anyone?”

  “I don’t follow you.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, you’re a man. You’re the source of the problem.”

  “I take offense at that,” he said, sparing a glance in her direction and wishing he hadn’t as soon as he saw the bare expanse of her back.

  She ignored his comment and slipped the shirt on. “The moment I set foot on the Queen Charlotte, the crew made it a point to ignore me, or treat me as if I was a fragile glass figurine. Either way, the message was clear: women do not belong on ships.” He made to speak, but she cut him off. “Don’t try to deny it, Logan. Your men were hardly any better; I saw the looks you received when you told them I was to be abducted as well.

  “I’m sick of receiving questioning glances from your men, wondering what I’m doing every night in your cabin, why I’m getting special treatment, and just resenting my very presence on the ship.”

  “And so you think that dressing like a man is going to win you the crew’s favor?”

  “I’ve already told you I’m not an idiot, Logan, I know that won’t work. Which is precisely why I’m joining your crew. If I’m going to be stuck on this ship with you for another two months until we arrive in England, then damn it, I’m going to work for my passage!”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I have never been more serious.” Prepared to point out the flaws in her reasoning, Logan looked up to see her standing in front of the mirror with a knife in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. He ran to her side and grabbed her wrist before she could cut a single strand.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded as tore the knife from her grasp and tossed it onto the bed.

  “What am I doing? What are you doing! What makes you think you have the right to stop me from doing anything?”

  “I put up with your attitude, I indulge your ridiculous requests, and I’ll even allow you to parade around my ship wearing those seductive clothes and pretending to be a pirate.”

  “How on earth are these seductive?”

  “I will not, however, allow you to touch even one lock of that hair.”

  She was fuming. “How dare you! Who the hell do you think you are?”

  He planted his feet and stared down at her. “I’m your Captain, or did you forget already? As a member of my crew, you are under my direction and care, and your first order is to erase all thoughts of cutting your hair from your mind.” He walked to his dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling a red bandana from it. “Here, tie it back if it gets in your face, but don’t you ever cut it.” His anger dissipated and he reached up to wrap a finger around a curl. “It’s much too beautiful to be tamed.”

  Her mouth was suddenly dry. “I suppose you’re going to say that the same goes for me, as well.”

  He smiled. “You have me confused with one of your love-struck suitors, Amber. I know better, that you are far too bull-headed to ever be tamed. God help the poor sap who thinks he ever can.” His hand darted out and caught hers mid-air. “I’m growing tired of you trying to slap me all the time.”

  “It worked once,” she rebutted, trying to wrench her hand from his grasp. He gripped it harder and pulled her against him.

  “Yes, but only because I was enjoying our first kiss far too much to anticipate your anger. I wonder though,” he said as his gaze dropped to her lips, “if you can deny the attraction between us after what happened last night.”

  He dropped his lips to hers, letting her hand go so he could cup her face and tilt it to meet his, perfecting the angle between them. He felt himself becoming aroused as he savagely kissed her, one hand moving to tangle in her hair and driving his hips into her body. Only after the initial passion wore off did he realize that she hadn’t moved to kiss him back. He looked down, startled to see that her face was frozen in a look of complete disinterest.

  “I can, and I just did.”

  He watched in disbelief as she walked around him and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  But he didn’t see her lean against the doorframe and shut her eyes, in an attempt to regain her composure from the reeling kiss she had just used every ounce of willpower not to react to. Once her knees stopped shaking, she pulled herself together and set off to begin her first day of piracy.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You want me do what?” Eli shouted, drawing stares from the men busy at work on the main deck. “Logan, usually I’m behind you a hundred percent, but I need to ask; have you lost your damn mind?”

  “Sure as hell feels like it,” replied Logan, as he rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand.
“I don’t understand it either, really, but I do respect her tenacity.”

  “So she’s got her mind set on this,” said Eli with a sigh as he watched Amber’s progression across the deck, carrying a bucket of water and a rag, determination in each stride and an awareness that she was being watched by almost everyone.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Well, did you try to talk her out if it?”

  “Of course I did,” he met Eli’s unconvinced gaze. “What, you think I encouraged her somehow? It’s not as if I wanted this, it’s just another thing to worry about, having her underfoot. What if she gets hurt?”

  Eli smiled. “My dear Logan, could that possibly be concern I hear for our little pirate-to-be?”

  “Absolutely not. We’re like oil and water, we just don’t mix.”

  “If we’re keeping with the metaphors, I’d say that you are more like gunpowder, and she’s the flame. An explosive, and often deadly combination.”

  Logan considered this for a moment, then shook his head. “Whatever it may be, now isn’t the time for a literary dissection of our sordid relationship. Just do what I said.”

  Eli looked apprehensive. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  Logan responded with a grin, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “If she wants to work for her passage, then I want her worked to the bone. If she lasts more than three days, you’re not pushing her hard enough. I want to see her crumble.”

  The most beautiful sight Amber had ever beheld was the Caribbean sun setting over the horizon. Not because the crystal water scattered the last rays of light, flickering magically as the sky darkened from a dusky pink into a rich blue, but because it meant her first day of work on board the Imperial Shadow had come to an official end.

  Only her firm resolution could make her stand, her every muscle screaming in protest as she bent to retrieve her swab and bucket of dirty seawater. She had spent the entire day on her hands and knees washing the deck, and her aching body was not in agreement with her stubborn decision. An intense pain shot down her back to remind her of her poor choice. Refusing to grimace, she dumped the excess water over the side of the ship, stored her supplies and followed the men down the stairs into the galley, where she stood at the end of the line for dinner. When it was her turn, Abe gave her a sympathetic smile and an extra biscuit, which she scarfed down before she even reached the orlop, where the men ate and slept.

  An uncomfortable silence fell as she stood with her tin plate and mug in the doorway, the crew uncertain of her place among them, and how to act around her. At last, Pax cleared his throat and offered her the empty spot on the bench next to him.

  “Thank you,” she responded wearily as she slid down with her food.

  “So what do you think?” Pax asked with a smile.

  Amber looked up from her meat. “What do I think of what, the food? It’s fine.”

  He laughed. “No, I mean what do you think about working on the ship?”

  She was about to confess how tired she was when she sensed Logan’s presence behind her. There was no mistaking the musky masculine scent that followed him everywhere. “It’s invigorating,” she lied. “I find it quite enjoyable. Can’t wait until tomorrow!” Pax shrugged and went back to eating, while Amber watched Logan’s distorted reflection in her mug storm from the room. She smiled and took a swig of grog, which was strong enough to cover the bland taste of her food, but not quite strong enough to mask the low quality of the liquor.

  Deacon saw her face as she choked down the liquid. “Probably should have warned you. This isn’t the stuff you got in the Captain’s quarters, I bet.” Noticing the melancholy look on Pax’s face as he stared into his cup, she forced herself to take another sip, this time without wincing.

  “It isn’t bad at all!” she said through clenched teeth, Pax’s smile doing very little to offset the burning path the grog made down her throat.

  “You’re going to have to get used to a lot of things down here, I reckon. Things are very different for the crew than for the Captain,” Deacon told her.

  “Like what, for example?”

  “Well for one, you ain’t got no cushy bed to sleep on!” Creed said with a toothy grin.

  “But hammocks are quite comfortable,” added Pax, not wanting to upset her. “They take some getting used to, but once you learn how to stay in them, you’ll probably sleep like an infant.”

  Creed was determined to scare her, however, and leaned over the table. “And you don’t get to sleep in, either. It’s up before the sun, ready to work and no complaining or you don’t get any breakfast!”

  “Get back over there, you mongrel,” Deacon reprimanded as he swatted Creed with his hand. “Miss Amber, he’s just telling tales. Well, not about the waking up early, that’s the truth I suppose. But he’s the biggest complainer of them all, and I think Abe gives him extra breakfast just to shut him up.”

  “Anything else I need to know about?” Amber asked with a chuckle.

  “Well, if Eli sees you’re not doing your job, he can threaten to dock your pay till you shape up,” declared Pax, “And if you don’t he can stick you on permanent swab or bilge duty.”

  “Eli don’t beat you though,” came a quiet remark from Anton at the end of the table, who, Amber remembered, stepped forward during Lyle’s trial to reveal the lesions on his back from the Lyle’s whip. She reached a sympathetic hand out to cover his much larger, darker one, and his eyes lifted to meet hers.

  “How are you doing, Anton? Is your back healing properly?”

  Moved by her compassion, he nodded. “The doc took a look at it and said it was infected, and he had to clean it out, which stung something awful. But he patched it up, and when he checked it out today he said it was much better. He even said I can get back to real work in a few days, and stop taking it easy.”

  “That’s wonderful!” she said, thankful that Lyle was far away.

  “I know. The doc seemed pleased too. Hey Miss Amber, do you want my extra biscuit? Abe always gives me three, on account of me being so big and all, but I’m full. You can have it if you want it,” he said, extending it to her. She opened her mouth to turn him down, but instead she accepted the offered biscuit. “I can take these for you too,” he picked up her empty plate and mug, stacking them on top of his and ignoring her protests. “Don’t worry, I’m going back up there to help Abe with some things, and I don’t mind washin’ them, really.” With that he lumbered off, leaving the rest of the table in astonished silence.

  “Well Miss Amber, I think you just made yourself a new friend,” Deacon finally spoke.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard more than four words out of his mouth at a time,” Pax added. “I had no idea he was capable of an entire conversation. I think he must have a crush on you,” he said with a wink.

  Amber smiled. “Shyness doesn’t equate to intelligence, boys. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy the last bit of light up top before settling down to sleep. Have a good night!”

  Amber dawdled for as long as she could on deck, trying to put off going below with a bunch of half-dressed, snoring men. As far as she knew, she didn’t even have a hammock. With a sigh, she stared at the foaming wake that trailed behind the ship, leaning over the railing and attempting to relax her tense muscles. It was quiet now. She had a brief run-in with the officers as they left Logan’s cabin an hour before, but they had retired to their quarters and left her alone on deck with the boatswain. Just then he shouted, drawing her attention towards the water, where she saw silver shapes darting in and out of the waves. With a delighted start she realized they were porpoises, playing in the warm water and chattering happily to each other. She took it as a sign that everything would work out, and climbed down into the orlop, steeling herself for what she would find.

  The tables and benches had been removed and now hammocks filled the large room, covering almost every beam and crossbar possible. She was pleased to see that no one was completely naked, but
she figured that she would have to get used to seeing grown men in their underwear. Hairy men, she thought to herself with a shiver of repulsion as she caught sight of a particularly large pirate flopped over the side of his hammock. His loud grunts added to the cacophony of snores and murmurs that filled the air, and there was a pungent smell she could not quite identify.

  She gave up trying when she saw her hammock, however. All the way over in the corner, near the door so she would receive some ventilation, someone had hung her new bed. There was even a blanket folded next to it in case she got cold. She eyed the thick ropes with hesitation before hoisting herself up into the swinging net and promptly falling over to the other side. After picking herself up and noting that no one had witnessed her accident, she tried again. This time she stayed put, and after a little wriggling and repositioning herself she was comfortable enough to drift off to sleep, rocked in her hammock like a baby in a cradle. Just like Pax said.

  What seemed like mere minutes after falling asleep, she awoke with a start and crashed to the floor. She glanced around to see if anyone had seen her this time, realizing with a shock that she was the only one in the room. Grumbling, she pulled her sore body up and wiped off her pants. Then she folded up her hammock and stored it in the crates against the wall, and hurried up the narrow stairs to grab breakfast. The galley was empty except for Abe and Eli, who sat drinking cups of coffee. They both looked up when she entered.

  “Morning,” she murmured as she reached for a pastry.

  “How did you sleep?” Abe asked her, passing her a mug. She washed down her food with the coffee and shrugged.

  “Well enough, but I didn’t wake up on time. Logan is probably going to hold it over my head like the smug, pompous as—”

  “He isn’t awake yet,” Eli cut her off with a grin. “He’s still sleeping off the rum from last night. He drank a bit too much and then passed out, sprawled on his bed with his boots on. When I checked on him ten minutes ago he hadn’t moved from that position. So I think you have a bit of time to relax before getting to work, if you’re going to continue this silly game.”