by Sarah West
Slick with sweat and sated beyond belief, Logan held Amber against his chest and stared at the ceiling. His rapidly beating heart was not distracting enough to keep her from drifting into sleep, however. So tired was she from the day’s activities that she ignored the way her pillow throbbed against her cheek and let her exhausted body carry her into oblivion, leaving Logan awake to contemplate what he was going to do about the woman in his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
“Cap’n, you’d better come quick, I think he might be dead!” Logan glanced at Henry and considered ignoring the request, as it was most likely an exaggeration of a meaningless brawl, but the fear in the boy’s words and the noise building outside were enough to make him put down his book and reach for his hat.
Outside, he pushed his way through the gathering crowd and groaned. At the center of the array was Amber, standing over a very pale and motionless Pax and wringing her hands. Logan dropped to his knees beside him and pressed his fingers to the side of his neck, relieved when he felt a faint pulse. “He isn’t dead, he’s merely unconscious,” he said as he rose. He scanned the faces of the men around him, and not seeing the doctor, instructed Henry to run and fetch him.
“Should we move him?” Amber asked, a frantic edge to her voice.
“No, we’ll wait until Piers takes a look at him. If he did hurt himself, we don’t want to risk injuring him further. Can you explain to me what occurred?”
“I never expected this to happen. He’ll never forgive me,” she blurted out. Logan took her hand as she met his gaze.
“I know it wasn’t intentional, but please, take a deep breath and tell me.”
“It was my fault, Captain,” Deacon declared as he stepped forward, his mouth set in a grim line. “I thought it would be fun to teach the men how to wrestle, like we did when I was a lad. The goal is to throw your opponent onto the ground, flat on his back.”
“Cornish wrestling?” Deacon nodded. “I’m familiar with the sport, but don’t you need jackets to mark four points on the body?” Amber spun around to reveal the charcoal marks between her shoulder blades and above her hips. “Very enterprising.”
“Anyway, Pax was sparring Miss Amber, and he flipped her over. But me and Jackson and David were judging, and David said he saw her land on all four pins, er, marks. That would make Pax the winner. But Jackson and I only saw three pins hit the ground, meaning she didn’t land flat on her back, meaning Pax didn’t win. So things got pretty heated up, and then Amber caught him off balance and hoisted him over her shoulder like I taught her.”
“Except when he fell, he hit his head on the deck,” Logan guessed. Amber nodded.
The anxious men cleared a path for Piers, who shuffled forward with a leather medical case. He replaced Logan at the young man’s side and proceeded to check his pulse, listen to his heartbeat, and look at his eyes. “Well, his pupils are dilating, which means he is still responsive to light, and his heart rate hasn’t slowed. I’m guessing he should wake up shortly.”
“And will he be all right?” Logan asked for Amber’s sake.
“Do you mean will there be any long-term, irreversible damage? Unlikely. The brain is well protected, that’s why we have such thick skulls. The worst he’ll have to deal with are some headaches here and there, but I have some laudanum in my trunk. A drop or two in a cup of hot tea and the pain should go away.”
Relief washed over Amber as Pax’s eyes fluttered open, blinking against the sunlight. He groaned and lifted a hand to his head. “What happened?”
“The doc said that your thick head saved your ass,” Deacon explained with a laugh.
“But did I beat her?”
Amber glanced at Logan. “Yes,” they answered together.
“You’re both liars and you bloody well know it. That’s all right, though,” he stumbled to his feet. “Once I get rid of this damn throbbing we are going to have a fair fight.”
“What about the last fight wasn’t fair?” Logan asked, sensing Amber tense up beside him.
“I was blinded, plain and simple.”
“By what?”
“Her smile.” Logan rolled his eyes, but Amber only chuckled and leaned in to give Pax a kiss on his cheek. “Now I’m starting to feel faint again.”
“Then go lie down, you dolt. You aren’t getting anything else from me,” she told him with a good-natured smile.
“How about one more kiss? You can’t turn down the sick and infirmed, it wouldn’t be very Christian of you.”
“Why don’t you focus on getting well. Then, if you want, we can have another match. And if you behave, I’ll think about letting you win.” With a wink she sashayed off.
“She’s in love with me,” Pax declared whole heartedly as he watched her walk away. Logan cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, believe me, she’ll come around eventually.”
Amber was running through her exercises alone in the orlop when Logan’s voice interrupted her concentration. “Any particular reason you’re hiding down here?”
She stopped attacking her imaginary foe and rested the tip of her blade on the ground, leaning against it as she caught her breath. “I’m not hiding, merely staying out of trouble. I figure I’ve caused enough mayhem for one day.”
“I want you to know that no one holds you accountable for what happened today. The only way to prepare yourself for a battle is by practicing, and you handled yourself admirably. If that had been a real fight, you would have succeeded. An unconscious enemy is better than a conscious one.”
She knew that his joking tone and easy smile were meant to cheer her up, but she stubbornly ignored the attempt. “The simple truth of the matter is that Pax isn’t my enemy, he’s my friend.”
“Amber, you’re sailing with a group of pirates. I’m not surprised that one was injured. In fact, I’m surprised we’ve made it this far without any major accidents. Cuts, scrapes, bruises, broken bones, and concussions are typical occurrences on these ships. Which is why,” he said with a grimace as he pulled something from behind his back, “I want you to wear this whenever you’re fighting with real blades.”
“It’s massive,” she complained once the large shirt was draped over her small frame. “I feel like I’m swimming in it!”
“I’m serious Amber, I want you to wear it. The thickness of the linen will hopefully prevent anything from cutting through to your skin.”
“Who says they will get close enough to even try?” she challenged, grabbing her sword and lunging towards Logan. He sidestepped her thrust and moved behind her extended arm, wrapped one hand around her elbow and another around her wrist, and in one fluid twist broke Amber’s hold on her sword, switched it to his own hand, and had it trained on the pulsing vein in her neck. A smile played at the corner of his mouth as he withdrew and handed her back the weapon.
“That was unfair, you caught me off guard! If I had known you were going to do that I could have prevented it.”
His head fell back and he let loose a deep laugh that echoed in the cavernous room. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to break the bad news, love, but most fighters will try to take you off guard. That’s typically how you win a fight. Lucky for you, however, you have a secret weapon in your arsenal that will confound any foe long enough for you to move in with the winning strike.”
“And what pray tell, is this secret weapon?”
“Your gender.”
“I don’t see how you expect me to use that to my advantage, unless you want me to expose myself to my opponent and startle him?”
He shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s foolproof, but it’s worth a shot. You may try it out on me if you so wish to. I’m always happy to help with training exercises.”
She thought about taking him up on his offer, but as she looked past his shoulder she noticed a ball of black fur with white paws, curled up asleep on a crate, and all thoughts instantly turned to how to get the kitten back to Johnny without Logan noticing. Glancing back at him, she saw him eying her with curi
osity, and reacted quickly in a way she knew would distract him.
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, throwing him off balance in the process. He stumbled backward a few steps, bringing Amber closer to her goal. As he regained his footing he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue past her teeth and exploring her mouth with an urgent heat that traveled down her body in shockwaves. She fought against the daze that threatened to overtake her, and opened an eye to gauge the situation. They were standing a few feet from the crate where Puck slept soundly, oblivious to the intensity between Logan and herself, and if she were lucky she could smuggle him from the room without awakening him.
Logan blinked in confusion as she slid under his arms and turned away from him. He did not see her snatch the rogue kitten and deposit him down the front of her shirt, where he nestled happily in her cleavage, protected from view by the folds of fabric.
Logan closed the distance between them and started kissing her neck, misinterpreting her wriggling as pleasure, rather than as an escape attempt. “Now is not the best time, Logan. I think…I’m going to go see how Pax is doing.”
“He’s fine,” he whispered against her skin. “I talked to him before I came to find you. No one will bother us in here.”
“Are you suggesting we make love on a crate?” she couldn’t hide the excitement from her voice.
“Well it wouldn’t exactly be making love, I’d say more like fu—”
“Logan!”
“Sorry. You must admit though, it’s a tempting situation.” His hand snaked around her front and before she could stop him, down the neck of her shirt. “Damn it!” he yanked back his hand, staring incredulously at the tiny drops of blood pooling at the tip of his finger. “Did your breast just…bite me?”
She was already halfway to the door, her arms crossed over her chest as she ran. “I did try and warn you that it wasn’t a good time!”
“You had better be the next Chaucer for all the trouble I’m going through for this damn cat,” Amber grumbled as she stalked into the hold.
“Who’s Saucer? And have you seen Puck?”
“Chaucer was a famous writer,” Henry stated.
“And here’s your missing cat.” Both boys watched in astonishment as she tugged the cat from the front of her shirt.
“Lucky cat,” Johnny whispered to Henry.
“Lucky cat needs his claws filed down. I’m running out of places to get scratched.” A sudden shot rang out on deck. “What was that?”
The boys shrugged as she turned and sprinted up the stairs. Johnny dropped Puck onto the floor and gave him a stern look.
“Stay,” he commanded. The cat tilted his head and peered back at him.
“I don’t think he understands you,” Henry observed.
“I hope he understands that if Logan catches him, he’ll get tossed overboard. And from what I hear, cats don’t like water.” Ignoring the boy, Puck began meticulously cleaning himself, as if to prove to him that he wasn’t afraid of a little water. Henry and Johnny left the troublesome cat to his grooming and went up the stairs to investigate.
When they reached the upper deck they joined the crowd that had gathered. Two longboats were trailing behind the ship, tied to the stern with a length of rope. Propped in the center of each wooden craft was a straw dummy, with a large red target painted on the center of its chest. Several of the men had formed a queue, waiting with their pistols loaded and cocked.
“What’s all this?” Henry turned to Johnny, and was surprised to find himself alone. A moment later Johnny came barreling up the stairs with their guns and, passing Henry’s off to him, nudged the boy until they had joined the line. Another round was fired, accompanied by insults and teasing among the shooters. Eli squinted at the two dummies and declared one man the winner, then motioned for the next duo to step forward. Both boys grew excited as their turn approached, but they continued to watch the older men appreciatively, hoping to pick up some hints.
“Sixpence says the lass misses,” Creed wagered.
Johnny rushed to her defense. “Double says she out-shoots whoever she’s against.”
“You don’t have any money,” Henry whispered.
Johnny shushed him. “He doesn’t know that. And besides, it’s her turn, look!” Standing on the balls of their feet, they fought to see over the heads of the men in front of them. Amber stood with her arm outstretched, concentration etched on her face as she focused on the target. Ben, on the other hand, looked confident, displaying an arrogant smile and a relaxed grip on his pistol. Eli gave the command and they pulled their triggers, Amber’s gun firing at once and striking the target on the left shoulder, outside of the target lines. Laughter rang out as the smoke settled around Ben, who was gazing into the barrel of his gun with a confused expression.
“Oops.”
Eli shook with laughter. “Because Ben didn’t think to clean his gun before firing it, Amber wins by default.” Johnny smirked as Creed unhappily thrust coins at him.
Logan appeared from the crowd of men. “Ben, you’re on pump duty today, and I expect you to maintain your weapons in working order from this point onward.” Ben looked like he was going to respond, but decided that missing the chance to practice was worth avoiding the wrath of his Captain, and headed down the stairs with shoulders slumped.
Logan took over the practice then, running them through drills until they were drenched in perspiration and their stomachs grumbled from lack of food. “Can we break for dinner Cap’n?” pleaded Pax. Logan ignored him.
“Back on your bellies, and pick up the pace. I need speed and I need accuracy. In a real-life situation you have a few seconds to line up your shot, and your enemies will not wait for you to fire first. Deacon, left, Noah, right!”
One by one he shouted their names and they had to jump to their feet from their position lying prostrate on their stomachs, aim at either the right or the left dummy, and fire a round. Then they had to reload as quickly as possible and drop to the ground again to wait for their next turn. The sky was growing dark by the time Logan dismissed them for dinner. “Double rations of ale for the rest of the week; good work today men!” Morale improved significantly after that.
He called Amber’s name and she stopped with one foot on the ladder and turned. “Run around the ship a few times with me.” Her jaw dropped in astonishment.
“Right now? But I just—”
“Don’t argue. It will keep your muscles from tensing up and believe me, you’ll regret it tomorrow if you don’t.” She let out a groan and urged her heavy legs into action. Logan picked up her easy pace and trotted alongside her.
“Why am I the only one who has to run?”
“Because they should know better by now. When they wake up tomorrow and their bodies are as stiff as planks, they’ll remember their training. Besides, I need you healthy and limber for later.” He sent her a wicked grin as they rounded the bow. “Good work today, by the way.”
She shrugged without breaking her stride. “I shouldn’t have beaten Ben. I missed the target.”
“Not by much, and it wasn’t just luck. Ben knew what his duties were when he signed on to join the crew. If he had maintained his weapons like he was supposed to he wouldn’t have lost, and he wouldn’t feel so embarrassed now.”
“But still—”
“No buts, sweetheart, you won because you deserved it. Accept it, and let’s be done with it.”
“Fine, but you don’t always have to be so pushy, you know.”
“I know,” he smiled again, “but where is the fun in that?” He slowed into a walk, and she followed suit until they stopped outside the door to his cabin. “Go inside and change out of those dirty clothes, and I’ll go get us some dinner.”
“And what if I don’t feel like it, Mr. Pushy?”
“You had better listen to me, or else.”
She crossed her arms. “Or else what? I think you’re making empty threats.” As a reply he backed her against the do
or and ravaged her mouth with a scorching kiss that sent her head spinning. When he let her go she stumbled forward, dizzy and reeling.
“Or else,” he whispered, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her nose. Then he turned on his heel and left her, still breathless, leaning against the door.
The commotion downstairs was a predictable mix of men slouched over their dinner plates, too tired to even lift a fork to their mouths, and men whose energy had been restored by the panacea of alcohol. He was toasted multiple times by men who were already deep into their cups, and he declined the offer put forth by a slurring Pax to join them for a round. He reminded them that the following day’s routine would be the same as any other day, so it was in their best interests not to get too inebriated. Knowing that many of them would disregard his advice, he headed into the galley where Abe met him with a tray piled with dishes. He took the tray from him and headed back to his cabin.
“I hope you’re in the mood for turtle soup again, because it’s all…” he trailed off as his eyes settled upon Amber’s sleeping form, curled up on his bed with her hair unbound and fanned out behind her. Smiling, he set the tray down, pulled a blanket over her, and brushed a curl from her forehead.
He was aware of the domesticity of the situation, and even more painfully cognizant of his own reaction. He thought again of his home in England, and tried to picture Amber in that setting. Immediately the image formed of her bossing the maids around, spending hours in the library devouring book after book, racing over the hills on one of the stallions, and getting into vast amounts of trouble on the large estate. She belonged there. The trouble was, it was hard to see himself rejoining a world that he had shunned so many years ago. Would they even accept him?
Chapter Nineteen
