Romancing the Pirate

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Romancing the Pirate Page 6

by Michelle Beattie


  “I can’t help what they think, Nate.”

  “Sleeping in the same cabin will tarnish her reputation.”

  “What reputation? Nobody here knows her or will ever see her again. Besides, I don’t think a girl who stows away on a stranger’s ship is the kind of girl that’s worried about her reputation.”

  “You said she came for your help.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So that’s all this is about? Helping her?”

  “It’s not by choice, Nate.”

  “Mmm.”

  Blake glared at him. “What?”

  “I didn’t say anything. I simply acknowledged your comment.”

  “Not likely. You meant something by that.”

  Nate laughed. “Did I? I’d be curious to know what it is, then.”

  A steady pounding, not unlike the Navy’s drums, began beating behind Blake’s right eye. He heaved a sigh.

  “Hard to know which one of you irritates me more,” he muttered.

  “It had better be me,” Nate answered. “I’ve been at it far longer.”

  Despite the burden Alicia’s presence was putting on his mind, Blake smiled. “Well, now that you mention it.”

  Nate examined him a moment. “I was beginning to think that frown you’ve been wearing all day was becoming permanent.”

  “It was beginning to feel like it might.”

  “But my engaging presence remedied the situation?”

  “Not likely.”

  “Shame. Seemed to work with Alicia earlier.”

  Blake went very still. “When did you see her?”

  “I found her in the galley. We had a nice talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, now, a gentleman never tells.”

  Blake frowned. “You’re not a gentleman.”

  “She seemed to think so,” Nate answered.

  “A minute ago you were worried about her reputation,” Blake growled, not quite sure why he was getting so agitated.

  “I am. But she’s pretty and she’s virginal. That makes her doubly tempting.”

  Something slippery twisted in Blake’s stomach. “Are you speaking for the crew or for yourself?”

  Nate smiled lazily. “Either. Why? Are we going to have to duel over her?”

  Blake moved to the helm, not because the ship needed steering but because he needed something to do with his hands. Something besides wanting to use his fist to erase the sure smile off his best friend’s face. The fact that he even considered hitting Nate had his stomach in a knot. Nate was his friend—what the hell was the matter with him?

  “I’m not dueling with you over a girl.”

  “Girl? Hell, Blake, she’s a woman, and if you can’t see it, I sure can.”

  “She’s too young,” he said between his teeth.

  “A lot of women younger than her are married and having children of their own.” Nate angled his head to the side. “Are you telling me you haven’t noticed the temptation you’ve agreed to keep locked away in your cabin?”

  Blake thumped the wheel. “She’s not a temptation. She’s green with seasickness, she smells like something you’d find lying in a street in Tortuga, and she dresses like a boy. Where’s the temptation in that?”

  “The woman I saw in the galley was clean, she smelled of soap, and even wearing a man’s clothes, there was no doubt she wasn’t one.”

  Blood pounding, Blake abandoned the wheel and stomped to the gunwale. The ship wasn’t making much of a wake and the silence was irritating. Where was a good storm when he needed one? Hell, he’d even take a pirate attack. Anything to keep his mind off Alicia and the fact that his best friend was interested in her.

  “Stay away from her,” Blake warned.

  “I thought you didn’t like her.”

  “I don’t.”

  Nate leaned forward. “Why are you willing to help her if you clearly hate her so much?”

  “We were heading in that direction anyway.”

  “We were going to St. Lucia, not St. Kitts.”

  “It’s not that—”

  They were interrupted when Vincent climbed on deck. He shuffled toward them, then grabbed his box and slid it beside Nate.

  “What have I missed?” he asked, pulling himself onto the box. Even standing on it, his head didn’t reach Blake’s shoulders.

  “Blake was about to tell us why we’re taking a woman he despises to St. Kitts.”

  “Ah, the rest of the story. I knew there was more.” Vincent rubbed his little hands together eagerly.

  “I told you both earlier, I knew her family when I lived in Port Royal.”

  Vincent turned to Nate. “Do I look daft? Because I never thought I did.”

  Nate grinned. “Nope. You don’t. And don’t be commenting on her beauty either, it makes Blake twitch.”

  The dwarf turned to Blake. “Well, this just keeps getting better. Get on with it, then. Who is she really?”

  Blake assessed his friends and sighed heavily. They deserved more than he’d given them earlier.

  “Her father left her a letter. She found it after he died. In it he told her to look for me, said she could trust me to take her to wherever she needed to go, which happens to be St. Kitts.”

  “Where this Samantha woman is?” Nate asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And who is Samantha to her?”

  “Her sister. She didn’t know she had one until she read his letter.”

  “How was that possible?” Vincent asked.

  “Because she lost her memory when she was twelve. The man she called father isn’t her real father and apparently he hadn’t troubled himself to tell Alicia she had a sister either.”

  Both men’s jaws slackened. Nate recovered first. He whistled.

  “That’s a nasty blow. How is it she came to be with him then?”

  Because Blake had already left Port Royal before Alicia arrived, he couldn’t say. The fact that Jacob Davidson had taken a stranger in so easily had been all he’d needed to know.

  “I never heard the details. I was gone by then.”

  “Well, obviously he thought enough of you to send her your way. Is that why you’re doing this?”

  “I’m not doing that man any favors. And as I told you earlier, I’d already said no to her. But now that she’s here”—he shrugged his shoulders—“I just want to get rid of her. Taking her where she needs to go seems the fastest way to do that.”

  Vincent turned to Nate, his smile so wide, his eyes nearly vanished into his cheeks.

  “I’m not buying that pile of dung, are you?”

  Nate, at least, tried to hide his grin behind one of his large hands. “Not for a second,” he answered. “Besides, he nearly bit my head off when I told him I’d spoken to her in the galley.”

  “I did not,” Blake argued.

  “Yes, you did.”

  Blake shook his head, but he didn’t argue any further. He did, however, cast a glance down the deck, but Alicia remained on her back, unaware they were discussing her.

  “He can’t take his eyes off her,” Vincent teased. “It’s that chivalrous nature coming out again. The maiden needs help and our Blake is riding in to save her.”

  “Remind me to give you more duties, Vincent. It’ll give you less time to wag your tongue.”

  “It would take more than that,” Nate chuckled.

  Blake smiled at Nate, relieved the tension he’d felt earlier was gone. They’d been through too much to have a girl—or woman—come between them.

  Vincent ignored the insult. “What is she like?” he asked Nate.

  “I’ll tell you later,” he said, grinning. Then, standing, he set a reassuring hand on Blake’s shoulder. “If you need any help dealing with her tonight, I’d be more than willing to give you a hand.”

  Blake watched Nate’s long strides carry him to the main hatch. He knew Nate had said that last remark deliberately to taunt him and he was trying very hard to pretend it hadn’t work
ed. He knew he wasn’t successful by the mirth shaking Vincent’s shoulders as he laughed silently.

  “Go ahead, I know there’s something left you’re itching to say.”

  “Not me,” Vincent answered. Still it took a few minutes before his humor died and he turned serious.

  “Port Royal holds bitter memories for you.”

  Blake didn’t bother answering. They’d known when he’d gone to Port Royal for Jacob’s burial that Blake wasn’t happy to be there.

  “You’ve never said why, but Alicia plays a role in that, am I correct?”

  Blake pressed a hand to his eye. “Not to the extent you think she does.”

  “But she’s involved?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she doesn’t remember that either?”

  Blake shook his head.

  “Then perhaps you should tell her.”

  “Why, for God’s sake, would I want to do that?” Blake argued.

  “Because I think you have the notion that if you take Alicia to St. Kitts, you will not only be free of her but also free of the memories you’re trying to forget.”

  With a last considering look, Vincent, too, slipped under the main hatch.

  Left alone again, Blake returned to the helm and grasped the wheel tightly. His thoughts churned. He didn’t want to talk to Alicia about her precious father. He’d left Port Royal behind for a reason and he didn’t see the need to address that reason now. What purpose would it serve? The man was dead, after all. A little late to go back for explanations and apologies. And too damn late to change the past.

  Blake was honest enough with himself to acknowledge the knot that settled in his chest was one of regret. He didn’t like it, knew the man didn’t deserve it, but it was there as surely as the smooth wood was in his hands.

  Alicia moved then, walked to the bow. In the moonlight her shirt glowed, reminding him of Nate’s words—and Blake’s reaction to them—that she was virginal. She reached for her braid and with deft fingers uncoiled the length of hair until it was a shiny enticement flowing down her back. In the moonlight it appeared almost white. His stomach did a slow roll.

  He cursed himself all kinds of a fool even though his eyes never left her. Telling himself the reasons he should hate her only angered him more. He shouldn’t feel anything, not one damn thing toward her, least of all lust. And despite his argument earlier, he shouldn’t have been jealous either. But as sure as the breeze whispered over his heated face, he knew he’d felt both.

  Damn her, he thought, slamming his palm on the wheel. Why couldn’t she have stayed in Port Royal and left him the hell alone?

  The hatch banged again and Alicia heaved a sigh of relief. Though she’d enjoyed the stars and the fresh air, Blake’s hostility was a presence on deck and it made her anxious. It was why she’d remained at the front of the ship, watching the water fold away from the hull rather than asking Blake the questions that kept pulling at her.

  How had he known her father? Why was Blake so angry with him, and with her? Had he known all this time that she wasn’t truly Jacob’s daughter? Had the whole town?

  “May I join you?” asked a strange voice behind her.

  Alicia spun, her hand at her throat.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

  “No, no. That’s all right.” She took a calming breath, tried to slow her racing heart. “I hadn’t heard you approach, is all.”

  He smiled, showing a large expanse of gums and small yellow teeth. He held out a small, rather delicate looking hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lewis.”

  There was something about the eagerness in his gaze that gave Alicia pause. His eyes were little daggers that stayed fixed on hers in an unnatural way. He stood too close and Alicia took a deliberate step back. However, since she’d been raised with strong manners, she took his hand. It felt much the same way she imagined a snake would feel, clammy and cold.

  “Alicia.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” he drawled, holding tightly to her hand. “I wasn’t aware there was a woman on board. Is your husband a crewman, or perhaps the captain?”

  She pulled her hand free, wiped it discreetly on her thigh. “Neither, actually.”

  “No chaperone either?”

  She angled her chin. “My travel plans are my own.”

  His smile faded. “Of course. Please forgive my rudeness.”

  Feeling very uncomfortable, Alicia was thinking of how best to excuse herself when she was saved the trouble by Blake’s arrival.

  “Lewis, is it?” Blake asked.

  “Yes,” the much shorter man answered and Alicia was very pleased to see his boldness wither in Blake’s presence.

  “A little late to be about. The others are all asleep below.”

  “I was heading there myself.”

  Blake nodded and stayed where he was. Lewis looked back to Alicia.

  “So nice to have met you, Alicia. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Blake’s mouth flattened, giving him a very formidable look. “Not likely. She’ll be in my cabin.”

  Lewis’s eyes widened. “Well, then, perhaps another time. Good night.”

  Neither Blake nor Alicia talked until Lewis was below and they were once again alone on deck. Then Blake turned to her, eyes hard as his mouth.

  “You’re not here to dally with my crew. I thought I’d made that perfectly clear.”

  “It’s not what I was doing!” Alicia gasped, caught as much off guard by his words as by the furious tone.

  “I’m not blind, Alicia. I saw the way he looked at you, and from where I was standing, you didn’t seem to be discouraging him.”

  “I only met him now!”

  “I allowed you on deck for a reprieve. Had I known you were simply going to disobey me at the first opportunity, I wouldn’t have been so generous.”

  She gaped and placed a fist on her hip. “You call keeping me in your cabin for hours on end ‘generous’?” she demanded, forgetting it wasn’t wise to antagonize him.

  His jaw flexed. “You want to know what I normally do with stowaways?”

  “I’d hope you’d treat them a might bit better than you have me,” she answered, her gaze never moving from his.

  “You ungrateful wench,” he grated between his teeth.

  Before she could stop herself, her hand flew to his face. In a lightning-quick move he grabbed her wrist and held fast. Alicia was stunned. She’d never hit another person, and she was mortified to have tried now. That it was Blake, the man whose help she was counting on, made her mistake that much graver.

  “Don’t ever raise a hand to me,” he growled, his dark eyes flashing.

  She knew she should apologize but his self-righteous attitude infuriated her. He’d assumed the worst, and rather than ask her what was going on, he’d insulted her.

  “Then don’t be attacking my character. I am well aware of your terms and I did not break any of them. It was he who came to me.”

  Blake dropped her arm.

  “Yet you didn’t step away. Seems to me you were enjoying yourself.”

  “Let me assure you, Mr. Privateer, there has yet to be a moment on this ship that I have enjoyed.” With a final cutting glance, she swept past him and went below.

  In his cabin, she cursed him as she paced the floor. He was insufferable! He was headstrong, stubborn, and arrogant.

  “I’ll be happy to see the last of you when we reach St. Kitts,” she muttered, slipping into her nightdress.

  Only when she’d changed did the reality of her sleeping arrangements sink through her fury. She stood in the middle of the cabin and gazed around, her eyes landing on the hammock that had been set up since she’d left. For her, no doubt.

  She turned to the bed. It was large and soft-looking and far more inviting. She looked back at the hammock. It was swaying slightly. Oh, no, she thought, setting her teeth. She’d been sick all night and most of the day. She’d suffered Blake’s wrat
h and his bad temper and had been kept in the cabin because the mighty captain didn’t trust her not to turn his crew into a pack of blubbering idiots. She was exhausted and her eyes felt as though someone had thrown in a handful of sand. The least she deserved was a decent night’s sleep.

  Walking to the bed, she drew back the covers and crawled in, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

  If Blake had such a problem with her, he could take the blasted hammock.

  Eight

  Blake awoke to three very noticeable realities. One, he wasn’t alone; two, he was very much aroused; and three, if she moved any closer to him, she’d be sure to get a surprise she hadn’t figured on when she’d decided to take his bed. But then, he hadn’t figured on this situation either when he’d come down last night—still unsettled by Nate’s barbs and Vincent’s claim that Blake needed answers—to find Alicia in his bed.

  Hadn’t he gotten Nate to set up a damned hammock to avoid that exact possibility? He hadn’t wanted her in his bed. But he’d been tired and frustrated. He’d already changed the direction of his ship, altered his cabin, and had to endure his friend’s badgering because of her. She was bold, ungrateful, and had dared try to slap him. And then she’d had the nerve to take his bed. Well, he wasn’t about to be put out of his own damn cabin, was he? So, stripping down to his underwear, he’d climbed into bed.

  He knew now it had been a mistake.

  Yet he didn’t move away. Instead, lying on his side with his head braced on a folded arm, he watched her sleep and wondered at the tempest of emotions she brought out in him. Anger, certainly, though he knew that wasn’t rational. What Jacob had done was not her fault, but what she represented was a sore that wouldn’t heal.

  Still, looking at her pale cheeks and soft mouth, he was tempted. He couldn’t explain that either, as his taste in women ran to those that were experienced in pleasing men. None of them lingered in his thoughts the way she did, and unfortunately he couldn’t blame it all on anger. At times like this, he could look at her and wonder.

  His gaze slid down to her throat, where her nightdress revealed the creamy swells of her breasts. He lost his breath. They weren’t the most voluptuous but they pressed together, creating a seam that made his mouth want to explore.

  Breathing softly beside him, she slept on, unaware of his struggles. And he had more than one. Yes, she reminded him of his past, and yes, she stirred his needs, but it was the jealousy he’d felt biting him yesterday that bothered him. He didn’t like her. It shouldn’t matter that Nate thought her attractive, or that Lewis was interested in spending time with her. He shouldn’t care. But the thought of that little whelp, or even Nate, touching her made Blake want to stand guard, protecting her from anyone who would take advantage of her innocence.

 

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