by Merry Farmer
His mouth tipped up in a smile, as if he had already won. “So tell me, if you are the captain of this ship, who will marry us?”
I scowled. “No one.”
“We had an arrangement.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve broken it.”
Milton leaned closer. “This time, you agreed to it.”
Under duress.
He stood so close, moisture from his hair dripping down across his strong, clean-shaven jaw. His wet clothes clung to him like a second skin, and all I could think about was how I wanted to strip them away.
So he wouldn’t catch a chill, of course. But he didn’t have others to change into, and where would I keep him—wet and naked in my bed?
He stroked the back of his finger down my cheek, a terribly intimate and breathtaking touch. His voice rough, he said, “So I’ll ask you again, who will marry us? I’d like it done as soon as may be.”
I jerked back, out of reach of his touch. “I should throw you overboard.” It would be better for my sanity. For a man who I’d felt so little for two years ago, he now posed a terrible temptation.
All the more so with that seductive hitch to the corner of his mouth. “Where would be the honor in that?”
I swallowed hard. “I’m a pirate. I have no honor. I take what I want.”
He stalked to the door, pressing me against the wood with his muscular frame and awakening every long-buried desire in my body. For some unfathomable reason, my body sang for him. The tips of my fingers ached, but I curled them to keep from touching him. My breasts brushed his chest as I panted. I felt alive in the same way I’d been when he pressed me against the wall during our sword match. His nearness brought as heady a rush of adrenaline as in battle, with nearly as lethal consequences. I couldn’t resist him.
His breath brushed my cheek, then my lips. He murmured, “As do I, when pressed.” When he leaned forward, there was no mistaking his intent. He was going to kiss me.
“Stop.”
He stopped, an inch from my mouth. His forehead brushed against mine, his breath fanning my lips. I ached.
Take it back.
No.
Yes.
The roll of the ship rocked his hard body against me. The throb between my legs became an insistent torture. The heat of his body and the pleasure of his touch called to me. It would be so easy to succumb…
And then what? Carnal images flashed through my mind, but I shunted them aside. I had to think straight, had to think about more than myself as a woman. I had far too many other fates resting on my decision.
Milton panted, his hand planted next to my face, but he didn’t move away. In a soft, intimate voice, he whispered, “I’ve been mistaken about you before, I’ll admit. But this time, I think you crave this as much as I do. There’s so much heat in you, Jeanne. Let me stoke it.”
“Don’t kiss me.” My voice trembled. I wanted to say the opposite. I wanted him more than I would ever admit.
But he abided by my wishes. “Kiss me,” he begged. “If you’re so piratical, take what we both want.”
It was a temptation I almost couldn’t resist. I trembled, my weak-kneed body held up by his. “I don’t want it.” Even I could hear the lie. If his body was half as aflame as mine…
I felt the vibrations of his groan in my core.
“Lord, you’re stubborn.” Raggedly, he pushed himself away from the door. Away from me. Averting his gaze, he ran his hand over his short-cropped hair. “But if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be here.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He spared me a glance that was molten. “If you weren’t stubborn, you wouldn’t have run away.”
My hand fumbled for the latch on the door. It clattered beneath my fingertips, drawing his attention.
He narrowed his eyes. “And you’re running again now.”
“Running? Never.” My hand stilled on the metal. For one maddening moment, I entertained fantasies of pushing away from the door and throwing my arms around his neck. If I kissed him, he would see me in an entirely different light.
Don’t.
I battled the urge. He was no better for me than indulging my sweet tooth.
“I am no coward, and I am not running away. I might have agreed to marry you, but I don’t have to give you my body—and you will never take my ship.”
My temper fanned as hot as my desire. I turned away, opening and slamming the door in a smooth movement. I fished the key hanging on a leather thong around my neck out from between my breasts and locked the door, putting the solid barrier between us. That ought to keep me safe.
But the wood didn’t quite muffle Milton’s voice as he called, “Keep your ship. I don’t need it anymore.”
Chapter 6
Take No Prisoners
The blessedly cool air of dusk doused my ardor as I stepped onto the quarterdeck. I gulped for breath, willing my heartbeat to slow. Around me, the fog had dissipated, leaving the shadowed swells of a dark ocean. The sun on the western horizon turned the mist in the air purple. The ship was silent, save for the familiar lapping of waves against the hull. My heartbeat slowed to match. For the first time since the storm had brewed, I regained my equilibrium.
My clothes, still wet, clung to my figure. I peeled the shirt away from my breasts and sighed, flapping the material so it would dry. Returning to my cabin for dry clothes was not an option. My hair, unfortunately, was the first to dry, springing up and shedding moisture in its usual wild fashion.
With no other sanctuary, I climbed up to the poop deck where two of the people I loved best tended to my ship.
At the very stern of the ship, where Hannah now sat lifting a spyglass to her eye, was an ornate, crafted addition. We’d removed the guns and added the bench as a place for Grand-mère to rest her aching knees and for Hannah to do her work on deck. The latter did so now, lifting the spyglass to her eye and staring at the darkening sky overhead while Grand-mère held the wheel steady. The familiar sight unwound some of the tension in my stomach.
They were whole. They were safe.
“Do you have anything to report?”
Hannah jumped. Her blond hair, limp and still a bit damp, fluttered in the breeze as she dropped the spyglass to her lap. “It’s not full dark yet. I can’t pick out any stars, and without the north star, I won’t be able to tell you anything.”
As much as I had wished for better news, at least we were still afloat. “What of the ships? Have you seen any signs of pursuit?”
Hannah shrugged. At some point, she’d changed out of her wet dress and donned another but hadn’t taken the time to pat herself dry. The thin material hugged her body. “Wherever the Brits are, they cannot follow us now. I suspect we were swept into the Atlantic.”
I concurred, considering there was no sign of land within eyesight. I doubted even the spyglass and its twenty-mile view would find us land.
To my right, Grand-mère gave a loud harrumph. “I see you’re still in your wet clothes.”
I grimaced. “I can’t change out of them.”
Like Hannah, Grand-mère had relinquished her post long enough to exchange her wet shirt and breeches for a dry set. Her mouth pursed as she looked me over. “Why not?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “There’s a man locked in my cabin.”
The old woman snickered. “Have you suddenly turned modest?”
“Grand-mère!”
She chortled louder as she corrected the ship’s course with a subtle move of her hand. “It’s nothing he won’t see when you’re married.”
I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat. It would not happen, that I’d vowed.
Hannah, unfortunately, did not see my circumstance in the same light. Her blue eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. “That’s right! He defeated you, didn’t he?”
I scowled at her. “He did not defeat me.”
“Last I saw of the fight before the storm, he had you pinned to the wall with his
sword at your throat. That looked like a defeat from here.”
I gritted my teeth. “He didn’t draw first blood. Those were the terms.”
Despite my stinging tone, my friend and navigator smiled broadly. “Why do you think that is? Perhaps he was thinking of more pleasant things he’d like to do with your throat.”
I tried to muster ill feelings, but the image she planted in my head was nothing short of wicked. Not ten minutes ago, Milton had pressed me against the door of my cabin. He could have kissed me, caressed me, and I would have gone up in flames. Instead, he’d begged me to do the same to him, and I’d managed to resist.
Grand-mère guffawed. “Did she tell you? Our Captain Sterling is the man she was engaged to shortly before we took the ship.”
If anything, Hannah looked even more delighted. “He is? He followed you, found you after all these years?”
“Unfortunately,” I grumbled under my breath.
The blonde exclaimed, “How romantic!”
“It is not romantic.”
Setting the spyglass in its hook next to her sextant, Hannah stood with a dreamy expression. She tipped her face up to the sky and twirled, her skirts swishing through the air. “To me,” she said in a singsong voice, “it sounds as though he’s trying to sweep you off your feet.”
“He is not.” I infused as much conviction into my voice as possible, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her euphoria. “He’s trying to take the ship. Again.”
I hadn’t forgotten that his main motive in attempting to marry me the first time had been this very vessel.
Grand-mère said slyly, “He seemed to have eyes more for you than for this old bag of bolts.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps we need to fix you for a pair of spectacles.”
Hannah stopped twirling, dissolving into giggles. “I’d marry him.”
In that moment, she seemed a lot younger than her twenty-four years.
Unfortunately, her advice might have merit. As much as I didn’t want to hear it, I had made an agreement.
Wearily, I asked, “For honor? We’re pirates.” That word, as always, seemed to brush over her without effect. I knew Hannah’s opinion on the matter, an opinion she had made abundantly clear when she’d joined the crew. Quickly, I added, “I’d prefer if we were sanctioned privateers, but there’s nothing I can do if the government will not recognize us.”
Slowly, Hannah shook her head, her goofy grin still in place. “No, silly. I’d marry him for the romance.” Her smile turned sly. “For the passion. If a man tried to win me in that way…”
I retorted, “You would analyze and predict every last one of his motives and strip the romance from the moment. You’re the most analytical person I know.”
Her face falling, Hannah tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that what you’re doing?”
No, I was avoiding a bad situation. Fortunately, the conversation was cut short by the sound of another woman climbing the stairs to the deck. Welcoming the distraction, I turned only to be pinned beneath Aludra’s dark scowl.
My first mate stood with arms akimbo. “Where is your man?”
If she was afraid for the crew, she needn’t be. “I locked him in my cabin.”
Behind me, Hannah giggled. I ignored her.
“So he wouldn’t be a danger to the crew,” I added.
If anything, Aludra’s expression darkened. “Do you intend to leave him there?”
Taken aback, I swallowed before I answered. “I certainly don’t intend to return at this moment.”
“Why not?” Grand-mère asked with a smirk. “You cannot stay up here.”
I made a face. “I’ll sleep elsewhere.”
Stepping alongside me to complete the circle, Hannah said in a teasing voice, “The captain’s cabin is closest to the deck. What if there’s an emergency?”
I gritted my teeth. “Then I’ll put him elsewhere.”
Her eyes were wide, innocent, and entirely too mischievous. “Where? You cannot keep him with the crew. For their safety, didn’t you say?”
A man like Captain Milton Sterling would not harm the crew. However, if he were to spend enough time in their presence, he could identify them. That would be a detriment, and not only because he had the power to arrest us all.
Sweetly, I said, “I’ll put him in your room.”
Hannah laughed, not the least bit fearful.
On the other hand, Aludra looked as grim as death. “What do you intend to do with him, Captain?”
The levity of the moment cracked and died. Solemn, I turned to face my first mate. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
Clearly, that was not the answer she’d hoped to hear. “You must let him out of the cabin and give him food and water. I joined this crew because you promised we would take no prisoners.”
Her voice trembled, rising as she spoke with her fists clenched at her sides. The fall of her headscarf almost obscured the tension in her jaw. She vibrated with ill-contained rage and something else. A shadow in her eyes, one I’d seen once or twice since she’d joined the crew. Aludra didn’t speak much about her past, and what little I knew, I’d learned the night she joined us. Her late husband had captained a ship among the Barbary pirates, amassing a fortune by kidnapping slaves for market. Aludra had refused to follow in his footsteps and fled north until we’d crossed paths with her off France’s southern coast. Her strict moral code fit well with the rest of the crew. We fought Napoleon’s injustice and took what we needed to survive. Along the way, we helped as many women in poor situations as we could.
Keeping my voice steady in the face of her anger, I informed her, “I will not be taking him prisoner. Once Hannah discovers where we are, we’ll set out for the nearest port and leave him there.”
Aludra, at least, did not care about the wager of marriage. “And until then?” Her words were clipped.
I knew the answer she wanted, and it had me gritting my teeth. Reluctantly, I said, “I’ll see to his comfort.”
Bracing myself, I retreated to my cabin. As I strode away, Grand-mère called after me. “Don’t forget to change your wet clothes before you catch a chill!”
I shoved my hand into my damp pocket to keep from responding with a rude gesture. I couldn’t tell if she genuinely thought I would get sick or she was only trying to tease me.
The irritation of the damp clothes helped to burn away some of my trepidation as I crossed to my cabin door and fished the key out from between my breasts. I stared at the wooden barrier between me and the man who suddenly wanted to marry me. Should I be thinking of him as my fiancé? I swallowed, steeling myself, and unlocked the door. Unsteadily, I pushed the door open and strode inside. The only way to assert my authority now was by surprise.
I stopped short in the threshold, mouth agape. On the bed directly in front of the door, Milton was stretched out, covering every inch of the mattress, a calico cat curled onto his chest. The cat was his only adornment. His boots lay haphazardly at the foot of the bed next to my trunk and the remainder of his clothes had been tossed over the desk and chair to dry. He was absolutely, gloriously naked. His body was muscled, dusted with dark hair.
And he didn’t seem the least bit concerned that I walked in on him. With a sheepish expression, he gestured to his chest. “I appear to have been taken captive.”
I stepped inside and shut the door before anyone else saw him this way. No one save for me had any reason to be in my cabin, but I was irrationally paranoid, nevertheless. I swallowed the sudden moisture in my mouth. “You’ve not been taken captive. You’re free to walk the ship as long as you don’t disrupt the crew or make any of the women uncomfortable.”
He narrowed his eyes, confused. Slowly, he clarified, “I meant the cat.”
Papillon purred, the sound swallowed in the silence that ringed the cabin.
After an awkward moment, Milton asked, “Is every member of your crew a woman?”
“I am not having t
his conversation with you while you’re naked!”
Carefully, Milton sat up, dislodging the cat in the process. Papillon narrowed his amber eyes, no doubt plotting Milton’s murder. I might have helped if my attention hadn’t been so focused on the way Milton’s abdomen rippled with muscle. He was male beauty incarnate, chiseled like a sculpture, and he must know it. There wasn’t a mortified or modest bone in his body. In fact, the only reaction he had to being caught naked was the stirring of his manhood…
His voice a low growl, he asked, “What conversation would you like to have?”
“None!” I averted my gaze, but the image of his naked flesh was burned into my mind. I couldn’t seem to find a suitable place in the room to look. Under my breath, I muttered, “I came to fetch my clothes. You should clothe yourself.”
“My clothes are drying. I don’t suppose you have others to replace them?”
He didn’t sound as concerned by the lack as he should have.
My voice a bit strangled, I answered, “We are not in the habit of entertaining men on board.”
“Why is that?”
I pressed my lips together, refusing to answer. Instead, I crossed the short few steps to the trunk and used the key around my neck to open it. Inside, I pulled out another set of breeches and shirt along with stockings and undergarments. I piled them next to the trunk, using the lid to shield me from his nudity. His muscular calf rested alongside the box, his bare foot next to me. Uncomfortably hot, I pulled again at the sticky shirt clinging to my flesh.
“Would you prefer me to turn around?”
I slammed the lid, glaring up at him before I realized the mistake. His mouth was curved in a devilish smile that made my stomach flip. His eyes twinkled, and I sensed that if I said yes, he would most likely peek. Tit-for-tat, considering he was sitting in flagrante delicto in front of me now. With his broad shoulders, muscled chest, and the mat of hair that trickled down his stomach to—
I averted my gaze again. “One of the women might have clothes big enough to fit you. I’ll check.” As I gathered my clothing and stood, he caught my arm. The movement pinned me between his legs. His hand was warm, but his grip gentle enough to break with little effort. The heat of his body formed a seductive shackle that held me in place for altogether too many heartbeats. It would be too easy to straddle him and push him down on the bed and…
