by Tamara Gill
The eyes of every crewmember on deck focused on him and Sarah. She’d planted her hands on her hips and only looked at him. “I will take the rest of his lashes.” Her dark eyes burned with an anger that matched the emotion charging his body.
He drummed his fingers on the pussy’s carved handle as he narrowed his gaze. The woman’s stubbornness knew no bounds. He’d hoped, after last night, they’d come to an understanding of sorts. Obviously, her spirit hadn’t been subdued enough, and now she’d put him in the unfortunate position of having to either lose face before his crew or meet her challenge. Aware of the many onlookers, he fisted his free hand.
“Brax, put Miss Covington into position. Zed, you got off easy this time, thanks to your temporary guardian angel.” Adrian glared at Sarah as she stood waiting and Zed, who looked over his shoulder. “Don’t think this will ever happen again. It is not a precedent. I have no problem sending you both to the hell for days on end without food or water. Do not make me carry through on that promise.” Though, at the moment, banishing Sarah from his sight sounded better and better. No matter that he’d felt a fleeting connection with her before, if she persisted with this interfering behavior, she’d become a liability he could ill afford.
“Thanks, Cap’n!” Zed scrambled to his feet. He hiked up his trousers and disappeared into the crowd without a backward glance.
Adrian would catch up with the boy later and give him a stern talking to for not voicing a protest and letting a woman take the rest of his punishment. That was not acceptable male behavior. “Brax, secure Miss Covington. She’ll take them on her back instead of her arse.” At least in this he’d spare her a bit of embarrassment. “However, if she persists in obstructing our ways, you can all look forward to gazing upon her rear to your heart’s content.” He nodded at his second-in-command.
Brax grabbed Sarah’s arm, pulled her into the punishment area and shoved her over the barrel. A scant second of hesitation plagued the big man before he ripped open the back of her shift. The well-worn muslin immediately gave under his rough handling. The rent went low, barely stopping high enough to keep her rump covered. Afterward, he moved around until he stood at her head. Though she struggled, Brax held her firmly in place with his massive hands on her shoulders.
Adrian glared down at her. Frustration and annoyance vied for dominance in his chest. “Is this what you had in mind, Miss Covington?”
She peered at him, anger and fear battling in her gaze. “You would go through with this?”
“Aye. My word is law. Isn’t that right boys?” The bravado was for the crew’s benefit, but he needed their encouragement to carry out the threat. Above all, he couldn’t lose face with them. Their shouts and cat-calls bolstered his strength. Even still, a sick feeling swam through his stomach.
“You are a gentleman. Where is your compassion?” Her chin wobbled. She attempted to pull away, but Brax tightened his grip.
“I was a gentleman. I’m a pirate now, and compassion has no place here.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat and ignored her fear. She had to learn. “Prepare yourself, miss. You have Zed’s four leftover lashes coming.”
Stepping around the barrel, he stood over her bare legs. At another time, in another place perhaps, this exact position would bring much different results. As it was, there’d be hell to pay for long days afterward—unless this act would be the one to finally make her see reason. He stared at the creamy expanse of her back. It would be a shame to mark it, but the avid interest of his crew bore into his skull.
I am a man of my word. I am the master here. She must learn this.
He lifted his arm. Without another thought, he brought the pussy swiftly down. Immediately, red scratches marred her skin. One drew a thin line of blood. Thank God there were no knots in the leather to create welts or gaping. He fought the bile rising in his throat. This was much different than teaching his men. Yes, women could perpetrate the same crimes, but there was an inherent difference between the sexes. Plus this one wasn’t sea-hardened. Females should never be subjected to such a punishment, especially one like Sarah, who’d already suffered so much.
But she had to surrender. She couldn’t survive otherwise. He’d learned the lesson. So must she.
“Where is the next one, Captain Westerbrooke, or have you changed your mind because I’m a woman?” Sarah’s taunt obliterated any lingering remorse he’d had.
Brax met his gaze and nodded his encouragement. His big hands kept Sarah over the barrel. A hush had fallen over the crew. This was a bad sign. Anything could happen while emotions seethed between them.
Adrian set his jaw. He gritted his teeth. Damn fool woman. She would break whether she wanted to or not. Vowing to put on a show for the crew but temper the next three lashes, Adrian swung the flogger down again.
Chapter Five
Sarah steeled herself as the leather strips snapped against her skin. This lashing was not as harsh as the first, but it stung all the same. The moment she’d spied Adrian wielding the altered cat o’ nine tails on the boy, she’d lost her mind. She knew only that she wanted to spare the youth more pain; it had not occurred to her that the captain would take her up on the challenge she’d issued.
One truth was abundantly clear. Adrian Westerbrooke was a man of his word.
What went through his mind each time he brought down the leather? In the end, she didn’t care. It had been folly to try and interrupt him while he worked. Too many demons drove him to choose just one. If she couldn’t separate him from the ghosts that haunted him, she’d need to learn to accept him as he was.
The leather smacked her back again, this time with a bit more force and bite, reminding her of the situation and her broken judgment. Her skin blazed as hot as if she’d stayed in the sun for hours, and though tears pricked her eyes, she refused to let them fall. The men didn’t deserve to see her pain, and she didn’t want to see their satisfaction. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the final blow. She awkwardly clutched at Brax’s arms. The man gave her a tiny press she interpreted as comfort. Knowing she wasn’t alone in this torture provided small relief.
Again the leather thongs kissed her skin, this strike low enough on her back to dig into tender flesh. Fire erupted as her nerve endings protested the treatment. She jerked in Brax’s hold. He released her, and she slumped over the barrel. In the back of her mind, she acknowledged Adrian’s order for the crew to disperse to their posts. Hot tears seeped from under her eyelids. When she moved to kneel beside the barrel and catch her breath, her muscles screamed. Her legs wobbled. The fight had weakened her body. Her skin felt raw and stretched too thin.
“Take Miss Covington to her cabin. Under no circumstances does she receive visitors, food, water or medical care.” Thick emotion rasped in Adrian’s voice. “Brax, find two of the constable’s men and post them outside her door. Any man who defies these orders will be shot on sight.”
“Aye, Cap’n.” Brax helped her to stand.
Sarah clutched the torn shift against her breasts and twisted around to locate the man whose heart was as cold as a gravestone. She met his stormy gaze then took in the hard set to his jaw, the thunderous expression, the clenched fist around the flogger. Understanding flowed through her as he turned abruptly away and strode down the deck. He’d had no choice. Regardless of what he’d thought as a man, as the pirate, he had to follow through. Her chin trembled. She fought back tears. In that one moment of clarity, she formed a connection to him.
We’re both ruled, driven and put to task by fate. In many ways, neither of us has had any other options than the ones we’ve taken.
“Best obey the cap’n, miss. I’ve seen ‘im do much worse for much less.” Brax wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders as he guided her across the planking and up the wooden stairs.
“Is he always so harsh?”
“He be driven to perfection, I’m thinkin’. The cap’n wants respect. We give it to ‘im, ‘cept I’m thinkin’ ours ain’t wha
t he needs.” Brax shrugged. “We all have specters of the past chasin’ us, miss. Best learn to live wit’ ‘em ‘cause they ain’t goin’ away.”
She stepped through the doorway of her cabin and turned, the urge for companionship and compassion strong. “Brax, wait.”
He shook his massive head. “Sorry, miss. I got orders.” Sadness shadowed his face. “Find me if the cap’n lets ye stay on, and we’ll talk. If not, I hope God looks out fer yer soul.”
“Thank you, but it’s debatable He cares after everything I’ve done.” But Brax had already gone, firmly locking the door behind him. Sarah sighed.
I’m too far lost.
In the last five years, she’d never sunk as low—in both actions and thoughts—as she had now. Why am I compelled to argue, to constantly challenge those in command? Why can I never just accept things as they are?
Padding across the planks, she tried the door that connected her cabin to Adrian’s. Locked as well. Tears slid down her cheeks. She let them fall. Why should she remain strong? Her existence depended on the good humor and whim of the pirate captain. She’d received the message he’d hidden in the lashes as if she’d been struck by a hot poker to the gut. There was no way out, and the only way forward went through him. By his pardon alone would she be allowed continued survival.
Like him, I have no choice but to submit and accept.
It could be worse. He’d had just cause to execute her—twice over—yet he hadn’t. She needed to let her will and pride succumb to his. Perhaps then she could attempt to build a different sort of life for herself, away from everything she’d known, removed from those who’d mocked her. She shrugged, stupidly forgetting about the pain. Sharp sensations raced over her back and prompted a grimace. Thinking about following orders and accepting life was one thing, but putting it into practice would clearly be a challenge. I have been alone far too long, relied on myself too many times to allow another person to decide my future. Still, there wasn’t a way past this blockade. Yet the captain would indeed be the one to decide her fate, which meant they had to come to at least a small compromise.
This both terrified her and excited her. She was too tired to figure out which emotion she wanted to win.
Sarah glanced out the one window her cabin afforded. Hurling herself into the sea was not an option anymore—not that it ever had been. She had too much self-respect to end her life due to inconvenience or wounded pride. The salt in the water would hurt too much on her new wounds, besides. Not having any other recourse, she collapsed, face down, on her bunk, and gave into exhaustion and tears.
*****
She awoke much later to a wet, cool sensation on her back and a cloak of darkness broken only by the weak light of the moon. A weight depressed the mattress next to her. Just when she’d decided to fall back asleep and give into the peaceful feelings every pass of the cloth on her skin brought, the sensations changed. Warm and fleeting, whispery caresses danced between her shoulder blades, skimming away her aches and pains. Slightly abrasive strokes, not unpleasant, blended with the soft touches. Prickles of awareness broke across her body. The glance of fingertips moved lower, went as far as the edge of her torn shift to caress the small of her back before making a return trip, once more following what she assumed were angry welts. A faint moan eased from between her lips and she turned her head toward him. No one would defy him and risk retribution. He was her avenging angel or her harbinger of death, depending on his mood.
“Adrian.” Her breath caught as he leaned over her, much like she’d seen him the night before, wearing only breeches. “Why are you here? I thought you considered me the worst sort of scum after I interrupted the lashing.” Knowing he’d been touching her, kissing her body while she’d slept stoked an increased arousal that had become familiar since meeting him.
“With every punishment, there is always a chance for redemption.” He kept silent so long she feared he’d leave. Finally, he spoke again. “As for why I’m here, I’m tending to your wounds.” His voice little more than a whisper, he straightened and dipped a cloth into a basin of water resting on the bedside table. After wringing out the rag, he pressed it against her back.
Cool relief ebbed into her skin. “By kissing them?” Curiosity gave strength to the desire. The flames caught and blazed through her insides. His tenderness seemed out of character with the actions he’d taken against her on deck.
“I do, after all, have a bit of compassion.” He’d ignored her question. “You’re lucky. Only one mark broke the skin, and even then it is not deep.” His fingers traced that spot. Heat sank into her back at his touch. “It will heal in a few days. The other scratches will fade quickly.”
“I don’t feel any pain.” Perhaps I’m still dreaming. After everything that had happened he wouldn’t visit her now, would he? He hated her, despised her for interfering or hated her for questioning his orders.
“There are herbs in the water, and I applied a salve an hour ago. It’s from the surgeon’s own making. He swears by the stuff for everyday cuts and scrapes.” The rumble in his low-pitched voice sent gooseflesh sailing over her skin. The sound resonated with a dark promise she ached to investigate.
“I appreciate the attention despite everything.” Had he caressed her other places while she dreamed? The thought tightened her nipples. “How long have you been here?”
“Since my tour on deck ended.”
“You are the captain. Why do you take the afternoon and evening shift?”
“I like to sleep long into the morning hours as I am usually occupied during the night.”
Were his nights normally occupied by a woman? The gentle press of his fingers and the cloth on her back soothed her jangled nerves. She kept her own counsel though questions burned on her lips. Did he make it a habit to bring women onboard for his sexual needs? If so, what happened to them once he tired of them?
“If Brax or one of others asks to exchange shifts, I oblige them.”
“Why?” It wasn’t that she cared overly much; she merely enjoyed listening to him talk.
“Besides the fact the ship runs better with a properly-rested crew, such concessions keep the men loyal. That is the most important thing.” He dropped the cloth into the basin. “After washing myself of the day’s grime, I came here and tended to your wounds.”
The fact he’d felt enough compassion to play nursemaid nearly brought her to tears. Not even her father had sat with her when she’d been ill. Perhaps the lashings brought new understanding to both her and him. “Thank you.” She rolled onto her side, facing him, clutching the torn garment to her bosom. “I won’t apologize for what I did today. My opinions will not change.”
“I never thought you would.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Though she regretted that she’d cut her locks in haste, at least there was enough left over that she still felt feminine. “Thank you.”
“Neither will I apologize for punishing you. My viewpoints also still hold. It could have been much worse, and will be if you provoke me.” He again stroked her hair. “Do not push me.”
The time had come to meet him on common ground, accept her new life under his command. There was no other choice. She laid a hand on his thigh. The muscles went taut beneath her fingers. “I understand now that you are the captain of this ship, and you have a responsibility for the lives you oversee. I have a certain appreciation for that. You don’t have an easy time of it.” It was the best compromise she was willing to give him for the moment.
“No, I do not, but I’ve become accustomed to my job and wouldn’t do anything differently.” His eyes darkened. His jaw set. A lock of damp hair fell over one eye to give him a devilish air.
She sucked in a quick breath. He looked ready to embark on wicked deeds. What did I say that antagonized him this time? When he stood, disappointment flooded her body. Could he not be in her company while she was conscious? Was she so distasteful to him? “Adrian, I…” Her statement died as he loomed
over her, steely determination and heat in his eyes. In one smooth movement, he scooped her into his arms. Sarah clutched his shoulders and sighed from the strength he commanded. She relaxed into him and enjoyed the heat of his body as it seeped into hers. “Where—?”
“Hush, Sarah. There are times when circumstances are merely superficial. There is no deeper meaning in them to question. You need to take pleasure in them while you can.”
Flutters danced through her insides when she guessed his intention. “Do I have a choice?”
“Your choices are to let me bed you without force, let the crew have at you, or throw yourself in the sea. That’s it. Welcome to life with a pirate.”
His confirmation of what she’d already known lent a level of calm to her nervousness. Oddly, she felt no need to protest this next, natural course of events. Of the three choices, he was the lesser of the evils, and one she could make peace with. It would be the first step forward in shaping her new life, and if luck favored her, one she could be happy at making.
He carried her through the connecting doorway into his cabin. As dark as hers, it felt more masculine than before. His personality, his mood, his authority, his control all clung to the furnishings and the very air in the cabin. He’d no sooner laid her on the bed than he tugged the torn shift from her body and tossed it away. “I have waited so long to see you thus.” A hint of awe hung in his voice.
“Do not forget you did, only yesterday.” She watched him from beneath her lashes as he removed his breeches to stand naked before her. His engorged member jutted outward from its nest of curls. Hard. Thick. Massive.
Nerves knotted her stomach. Never had she lain with a man; never had she known a man’s touch on her most intimate places until Adrian had done just that in the St. Augustine carriage. How would he react to her inexperience? How would that thing fit inside her, and why did the thought of having him move within her body cause wetness to gather between her thighs?