Pirate's Intent

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Pirate's Intent Page 5

by Sky Purington


  Thomas continued mulling their uncle over after he blew out the candle, opened the curtains, and settled under the blankets. Because he had despised the man so, he’d given little thought to him over the years. More specifically, what he might be capable of. Which, in retrospect, was foolish. Their uncle was very much the sort who would have felt the girls owed him something for room and board.

  Which meant he was the sort who would have seen opportunity in their beauty.

  He was about to ask Rose just how much opportunity, but her steady breathing stopped him. Remarkably enough, she had already dozed off. But then that wasn't so surprising considering the rum she had drunk and the ordeal she’d been through. A more traumatic experience by far then crawling into bed with him in nothing more than a shift.

  Painfully aroused not to mention concerned about who might be following, he slept very little and woke early. As it happened, Rose had moved closer as the night progressed until she cuddled against him. While he knew it was an instinctual need to be safe, he liked to think it was more.

  That she craved his closeness as much as he did hers.

  His gaze lingered on her for a stretch before he dragged his eyes away. She was too beautiful, lying there with her golden locks splayed across his pillow. Far too tempting for a man who had finally managed to get his erection under control mere hours before.

  So he dressed and made his way on deck, joining Charles at the helm. “Any sign of trouble?”

  “Not yet.” His quartermaster squinted south. “But as ye said, best to assume Big Devil is following.”

  “Yes, it is.” They had no choice but to fight on land next time, though. “No changes of heart with the crew?”

  “No,” Charles confirmed. “We’re with ye to the end, Cap’n.”

  He nodded, glad to hear it. “Why not get some rest?”

  Charles shook his head. “I got a wink or two overnight.” He offered a cheeky grin. “Lookin’ forward to more fightin’ ahead.”

  “Could be a ways off,” he reminded.

  “Aye, Cap’n,” Charles said. “Either way, I’ll sleep when I need to.”

  That was their way of life, so he knew his quartermaster would be fine.

  As it turned out, Rose slept the whole day, night, and most of the next day, not stirring until they were nearly two days out. When she did finally rouse, it was not quietly but with a bloodcurdling scream. He barely drew a breath, fearful for what he would discover when he flung open his cabin door but ultimately saddened by what he found.

  Chapter Six

  TERRIFYING FACES SWARMED in front of her, their voices taunting and lewd. Each and every one undressed her with their eyes. Made her feel filthy. There was no getting away. She had to face this, Hannah would have said.

  Just act the part, she preached to herself. Play dumb.

  “’Tis a high price for a wench who cannot speak or even see straight,” one hollered.

  Just keep playing dumb.

  “Who needs her to talk?” another called out. “Just her pretty little mouth around my cock is worth the price!”

  God save her.

  She could do this.

  She had to do this.

  “And no need to see straight.” Another chortled. “I’ll steer her along just fine.” He grabbed his crotch. “Right onto my main mast!”

  She kept her head down and willed cowardly tears away, but it did no good. They started falling before Big Devil grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her knees. Unable to hold back, she screamed.

  And screamed.

  Over and over until Thomas’s voice grew louder than the roars of the crowd.

  Louder than her own screams.

  “Wake up, Rose.” Big Devil’s painful grasp became Thomas’s tender touch. “It is just a nightmare.” He shook her gently. “Wake up.”

  Torn from pure hell, she opened her eyes to daylight and Thomas’s cabin. She was wrapped in his strong arms. He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her, murmuring again and again that it was just a nightmare.

  She was safe.

  Rose blinked away tears and remained where she was at first, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She was not about to be used roughly by Big Devil but wrapped up in Thomas’s warm arms.

  “Are you well,” he eventually murmured.

  “I am,” she whispered, finally finding her voice. She tilted her head back and looked at him. “Thank you.”

  His eyes were the color of sunlit moss in the current lighting, and his voice husky as his gaze lingered on hers. “How are you feeling? Rested?”

  “Very,” she murmured.

  Her gaze dropped to his lips. She remembered how they felt against hers like it was yesterday. How tender, coaxing, then arousing. With a heavy swallow, she, at last, pulled away because she didn’t trust herself to stay where she was.

  How quickly she went from the terror of being used to the need to be taken.

  She stretched and yawned before she realized her nightmare might very well be pursuing them. “What did I miss? Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is fine for now.” He gestured at a plate with apples and dried meat then a chamber pot in the corner. “Dress and see to your needs. We sail into port soon.”

  “Are we safe then?”

  “Safe enough for now,” he said. “Safer still once we get off this ship.”

  As she discovered a short time later when she went on deck, they were not quite as safe as he’d led her to believe. There were pirates about on land.

  They were also no longer in the Caribbean.

  She took in the salt marshes, windswept sand dunes, and tall, hardy grasses. Herring gulls cried overhead.

  “This looks familiar.” Her eyes shot to Thomas. “Why does this look familiar?” She shook her head. “How long did I sleep for?”

  “Nigh on two days,” he revealed. “As to the location, you likely passed it going south. What's more, you likely passed safely because your captain struck a deal with Blackbeard.” His eyes met hers. “We are off the Carolina coast. An island once called Woccocon but more recently referred to as Ococcock or Ocracoke.”

  “I have heard of it.” She frowned. “It is a pirate stronghold, is it not?”

  “Not to the extent of Port Royal or Nassau, but it has its fair share of my sort.”

  “I am not so sure they are truly your sort, Thomas,” she said softly.

  Their sort would have taken advantage of a woman in their bed.

  “You will need to make a decision and swiftly,” he said, seemingly ignoring her comment.

  “What is that?”

  “What role you would like to play this time.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You cannot go into this port a genteel lady,” he explained. “Either you go as our prisoner,” he shrugged, “or something else.”

  “Something else?”

  “There are really only two other choices.” A twinkle lit his eyes. “A wench or a pirate.” He shot her a sly look. “I believe you once said you wanted to adventure like a pirate.”

  “I did,” she conceded softly, considering his suggestions. “But I was only dreaming then, trying to escape the nightmare that was my uncle.”

  “Though I could put this delicately, I think you can handle the truth,” he replied. “There is a good chance Big Devil, and his rats will arrive here at any moment, so you are, undoubtedly, still trying to escape a nightmare.”

  While he could have been a little less direct, she was grateful he was not. That he remained honest with her. So what would she be? A prisoner yet again, a wench or a pirate? Though it would be the easiest, becoming a prisoner once more did not sound appealing in the least. That left a wench or pirate. Could she truly portray a woman of the night, though? She had little to no experience to draw on.

  Then again, what did she know about being a pirate?

  “How did you do it so well in Nassau?” he said, seemingly following her thoughts. “How did you b
ecome the character in one of your books?”

  “I am not entirely sure,” she murmured. “I played on how I felt at the time. I was speechless. Terrified. Unable to utter a word. So I embraced the persona, and it blossomed into deaf, dumb, and mute. Truthfully, it was but a means to an end. All I allowed myself to focus on rather than the terror that lay ahead.” She shrugged, not sure if that made sense. “I became what I needed to become.”

  If she were to be honest with herself, she had been doing such for a long time. Going somewhere else in her mind when her uncle took his switch to her. Pretending she was someone else. Not stuck in a helpless body at the mercy of cruelty. In fact, she had spent countless hours reading to her uncle's slaves, hoping they realized they could do the same.

  That there was an escape, no matter how brief.

  “Land ahoy,” Charles called out. “All hands on deck!”

  “You must choose,” Thomas urged. “We will dock soon.”

  She glanced from the shore to him, already knowing her choice. “I will become a pirate.”

  “You are a pirate,” he corrected. “You must believe it to be convincing.”

  “Very true.” Rose nodded firmly. “I am a pirate.” Then she considered it. “What does that mean precisely for a woman? I have only read about men.”

  “For starters, your outfit needs adjusting.” He pulled her back into his cabin and rummaged through his trunk before tossing trousers and a shirt on the bed. “Better in those.”

  “These cannot possibly be yours.” She fingered the clothing and cocked her head at him. “They are far too small.”

  “They belonged to the son of a friend of mine,” he replied. “They should fit.”

  It turned out they did though a bit snugly.

  “Are they not indecent?” she muttered. One could nearly see the shape of her breasts through the material.

  “You can be as indecent as you want.” The corner of his mouth curled up, and he eyed her over. “You are a pirate now, Rose.”

  “Yes,” she repeated firmly. “I am a pirate.” She wiggled her hips a little, trying the trousers out. “I quite like it too.”

  “As do I,” he said so softly she almost didn’t catch it.

  He braided back her hair with admirable speed then wrapped a kerchief around her head.

  “Do I look the part then?” She held out her arms and turned. “Will they believe such?”

  “I imagine they will not be overly concerned with your attire,” he murmured. “But other things.”

  When she glanced at him, it was to find his eyes locked on her backside in admiration.

  “Oh, dear.” She peered over her shoulder the best she could. Her skirt typically hid what he was staring at. “I suppose things are quite obvious.” She tugged at the pants. “Though I see no hope for it.”

  “Things are quite obvious.” He grinned. “And yet another means to distract others from paying attention to your behavior in general. Not to say I don’t think you will do just fine.”

  “Yet another means?” She arched a brow, flirting despite herself. Flirting because she had so missed doing so with him. “What else would be distracting them?”

  Where the pirate he was might have commented on the fit of her shirt, he instead ran his fingers gently down her cheek sending gooseflesh racing everywhere.

  “Your beautiful face, Rose,” he murmured.

  His gaze followed in the wake of his fingers all the way down the side of her neck. Breathing became more difficult. Her heart pounded.

  “I have so missed it,” he continued.

  She should step away, pull back. He had broken her heart.

  Yet when he tilted her chin and closed his lips over hers, she did no such thing.

  Chapter Seven

  HE HAD SWORN HE WOULD not do this, not yet, maybe ever, but as Rose stood there, so very beautiful in her pirate garb, he could not help himself. Though he’d tried his damndest not to, he had continued dreaming of kissing her again long after he knew he should have stopped. Long after they went their separate ways.

  Yet the moment their lips met, he was glad he gave in.

  Her lips were as soft and receiving as he recalled, her kiss outdoing all others despite her innocence. While tempted to deepen the exchange, he knew he would not be able to stop himself, and they had no time.

  So he reluctantly ended it before it barely began.

  When he pulled back, he found her eyes still closed, and her expression soft. Lost. Just as it had been countless times in their youth. He regretted having waited until they were officially married to take her. Many a restless night since he had tossed and turned, imagining sinking into her welcoming heat. Feeling her legs wrap around him.

  “We have to go.” His voice was hoarse with desire. “We need to get to my holding.”

  Her eyes opened. “You have a holding here too?”

  “Yes, my brother and I have several scattered over various islands.”

  “I see,” she said softly, her voice a little off. “And one so close to home.”

  He wondered at the quickly masked flash of pain in her eyes. But then it fed into his growing suspicion about what actually happened to her. Something he would address once they were on higher ground and prepared to fight.

  “I think it is probably best you keep your nose to the ground.” He tucked a pistol, cutlass, and several daggers on his person before he wedged a small blade into her belt. “And keep your hand on the hilt of your blade at all times.”

  She smirked, her eyes twinkling. “I shall not be a boisterous pirate, then?”

  Though tempted to pull her into his arms and not let her do this, they had no choice.

  “I think the less attention you draw to yourself, the better.” He gestured that she follow him on deck. “As a rule, female pirates tend to keep to themselves. The rowdy ones are usually looking for a fight.”

  “Goodness,” she replied. “I will not be doing that.” When he perked a brow at her, she dutifully fell into her role. She narrowed her eyes, put a hand on the hilt of her blade, and spoke through clenched teeth, “Unless they ask fer it, aye, Cap’n?”

  He nodded with approval, confident she would be able to pull this off. She had to because the alternative was not worth giving thought to.

  “We will not be dealing with many men between here and the woodland,” he divulged. “Just keep your head down and avoid eye contact.”

  She nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” he corrected.

  “Aye, Cap’n,” she repeated, then even threw in a wink.

  He smiled, then focused on the shore. They sailed into the northwest part of the island, where barrier islands protected them against rough ocean waves. As he suspected would be the case, there were few pirates about, most drinking and whoring inland. Though the sun was several hours from setting, a full moon was rising, which was favorable. It would allow them a clear view of the harbor later.

  They had nearly made the tree line when someone called out. “Now what’ve we here?” He whistled. “’Tis a bloody fine arse, that.”

  “Hell,” Thomas muttered. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth, “Just keep walking, Rose.”

  “You there,” the pirate called again. He and his fellowmen swaggered their way. “Don’t ye hear me, my petite?”

  Thomas and Charles cast each other grim looks, ready to confront the men, when Rose notched her chin, spun on her heel and strutted back their way.

  “Bloody hell,” he said under his breath, following her.

  She stopped in front of them, planted her fists on her hips, and narrowed her eyes. “Have ye a problem then?”

  “No problem.” One leered, displaying his blackened teeth. “As we said, ye’ve a fine arse.” His lecherous gaze raked over her. “One me and my men would like to enjoy.” He grabbed his crotch. “If ye take my meaning.”

  “Aye, I take it all right.” Considering their offer, Rose adjusted her hips awkwardly before
she shrugged and stunned Thomas. “It could use a good plowin’ and might relieve me some.” She flinched in what appeared discomfort. “If ye ain’t opposed to the itchin’ afterward.” Rose scratched one perfectly rounded buttock. “Ye know, yer cock’s likely to catch the buggers and all.” Perplexed, she frowned. “Thought they only went for the front side, but I guess not.” She shook her head. “All I know is it itches somethin’ fierce I tell ye.”

  He bit back a grin when their faces fell, and they backed away.

  “Ye’re up for it then, aye?” she persisted, eyeing their groins with hope.

  All three hightailed it in the opposite direction, cursing all the while about wenches inland giving them less trouble.

  Charles chuckled and winked at her. “Ye’re a right pirate ye are, missus!”

  “Why, thank you, kind sir.” She tapped her arse, winked at Thomas in passing, and sauntered in the direction they had been heading. “Are ye comin’ then, Cap’n?”

  Thomas grinned and shook his head, in swift pursuit. He would have to keep in mind how good she was at this in case she pulled one over on him someday.

  If there were a someday.

  Luckily, they came across no others on the way to his holding. Like the one in Nassau, it was not overly large but suited his brother and him while in port. The wooden floor was creaky and old, and the roof in need of repair, but it was in a good location for its vantage point. As expected, having been in waiting, more crewmembers greeted them when they arrived.

  “Welcome, Cap’n.” His second mate clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes lingering on Rose with appreciation. “All’s ready to go if need be.”

  “Very good.” He introduced Phillip to Rose then gestured at her outfit. “You can thank my lad here for your clothing.”

  “Oh!” Like most women, she smiled prettily at Phillip. “You are all grown up then.”

  “I am.” Phillip offered a flirtatious smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “But I am glad my shirt,” his gaze raked down her body fast enough not to upset Thomas, “and my trousers could be of use.” He shrugged. “Not sure why Cap’n keeps ‘em handy but glad he did.”

 

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