Captivated by the Captain (Fabled Love Book 2)
Page 5
“You said your Papa was a sailor. What happened to him?”
Jasper’s words were like a punch to her stomach. The air left her lungs and tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. How could she have made such a monumental mistake? She’d referred to Papa in the past tense. As she battled her rising emotions she ran lies through her head, looking for a believable scenario. Anything but admitting Papa was dead.
His eyes softened as he gazed at her. “I can see you are hurting. I sensed a melancholy about you from the moment we met. Does your sadness have to do with your Papa?”
This could not be happening. She could not allow it. Prudence stood and stumbled toward the door. “I do not wish to discuss this anymore. I told you how I know about ships. I do not owe you anything else. Leave me.”
Jasper approached, then pulled her against him. “You can trust me.”
His tone rang with sincerity. Still she could not ignore the fact that he was a pirate—a cutthroat not to be trusted. She bit her lip and shook her head.
A knock sounded on the door. “Captain?”
Chapter 7
Jasper released Prudence and stepped back from the door. Of all the terrible timing, they would have to get interrupted right when he was starting to discover her secrets. He could sense that she’d been close to revealing them. Her reaction after she spoke of her father in the past tense spoke volumes. She clearly had no wish to share such information with him, but why? Another ten minutes and he would have gotten his answer.
He seemed to be forging a frail bond with her and wished to build on it. Now that would have to wait, assuming she would give him another chance to speak about her past. He released a breath and stepped back from the door. Despite wanting to, he could not ignore the knocking. “Enter,” he called out.
Kipp opened the door then stuck his head into the cabin. “We have reached Domina est Maria, Captain.”
“The Sea’s Mistress.” Prudence whispered. “How fitting.”
She had done the same thing the last time the islands name had been mentioned. Jasper looked to her, noting the eerie tone to her voice. She seemed to be a million miles away at the moment. As if she had a connection to the island—or rather its name. She had her hand resting on her chest while she stared at the window. How he wished he could stay and talk to her more. “Prudence?”
She dropped her hand to her side and turned to him.
Jasper’s breath caught at the hunted look in her eyes. What had happened to cause it? Had her father been killed at sea? Likely, given she had told him her father sailed. Had his life been taken by the pirates that captured her? If so, her wounds were fresh. He determined to discover the answer, but first he had to attend his duties as the Marion’s captain. “I must go oversee things. Say you will stay here until I come for you.”
She nodded then dropped onto the bed.
He looked back to Kipp. “I will be on deck in a moment.”
Kipp gave a nod of his own before retreating and closing the door behind him.
Jasper rubbed his hand over his jaw. He would give almost anything to stay here with Prudence. She had been opening up to him, probably due to the rum, but opening up all the same. And now she seemed so distant. He had a feeling that when the door closed behind him it would only serve to sever the progress he had made with her. Pray, let him be mistaken.
He wanted to be the one to solve the mystery surrounding her—the one to put a sparkle back in her hazel eyes. He swallowed hard. That was a dangerous line of thought. Where had it come from?
“I have to go, but I will be worrying about you the entire time I am gone. Please do refrain from leaving the cabin.” It may be condescending of him to repeat the request but he needed reassurance after her earlier stunt.
She lay down, stretching out on the bed. Her eyes closed for a heartbeat and when they opened, the sadness no longer reflected in them.
“You have my word,” she said.
He offered her a small smile. “I will return as soon as I can. When I do, I will take you to the island.”
She gave a slight smile and her eyes fluttered closed again. He trailed his gaze from her blond hair, across her face to her full breasts, and lower from her shapely hips all the way to her toes. What he would give to climb into that bed with her. To coax out her secrets and hold her until the sorrow was gone. Trouble, that is all she will bring me.
He pulled his attention from her, satisfied she would not attempt any more stunts in the near future, and made his way above deck. She would no doubt sleep until he came to get her. A tinge of guilt struck him. He should not have allowed her to drink so much. Should not have encouraged and challenged her. Not when she was unaccustomed to the drink. All the same, it had helped to get her talking and was now keeping her safely within his cabin.
Perhaps he could get her to open up again once they were on the island; although, he would not use alcohol to loosen her tongue this time. Instead, he would turn on his gentlemanly charm. He was a lord after all, and there was a time when he prided himself on being able to woo any London debutant he set his eye on. Surely he could charm one spirited American hoyden if he set his mind to it.
Jasper reached the main deck and sought out Hawkins, ready to get on with the ship’s careening. His men were skilled in the duty. They could have the Marion sailing again with tomorrow’s high tide. By then, he planned to discover all he wished to know about her. After which, he could deliver Prudence to America or find another ship to do so.
He had yet to decide how the task would be accomplished. He’d only determined it had to happen soon, before he did something he could not take back. For now, she was nothing more than a puzzle that peaked his interest. If he allowed it, he had a feeling she could be much more.
He vowed many years ago to never fall in love again. To never allow a woman close enough to hurt him and he would not risk breaking that vow over one mysterious, strong-willed American woman.
* * * *
Prudence crouched between two barrels on the ship’s main deck, her heart pounding erratically. She watched in abject horror as barbaric men swarmed the decks of her father’s merchant ship, swinging cutlasses and clutching axes. Their battle cries sliced through her, leaving her trembling in fear.
Tucking tighter between the barrels, she closed her eyes and lifted a silent prayer for all of them. The sounds of men screaming, clashing metal, and pistol shots rent the air around her. She forced her eyes open when the deck shook beneath her. A man lay dead in front of her, blood oozing from a hole in his head. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she suppressed her scream.
Where was Papa? She looked around, catching sight of him. He stood with his feet apart and his own cutlass clutched in his hand. A tall man in tattered clothing with dirt streaking his face fought with papa. She held her breath, tears stinging the back of her eyes as she watched them thrusted their weapons at one another. She was going to die today. They all were.
With shaking hands she reached for the dead man’s cutlass. She would not turn over her life without a fight, nor would she cower in her hiding place while everyone around her fought gallantly. Gripping the cutlass, she stood, her gaze trained on Papa. He now fought two of the pirates. She raised her cutlass and ran toward him, determined to help.
Someone captured her arm with their rough hand, halting her ascent. She whipped her head around to find herself in the clutches of the enemy. Before she could react, he captured her wrist and squeezed until the cutlass fell from her grip.
“What have we here?” he asked, flashing a toothless, sardonic smile. “You will make a tasty treat for the men.”
She squirmed and kicked at the beast of a man to no avail. He held her tighter, pulling her against is body. The filthy scent of him turned her stomach and bile rose. Her scream ripped free from her throat of its own volition. Fear and panic gripped her as she sought out Papa. Her spirits soared at the sight of him moving toward her. All would be well. Papa would rescue her.
&n
bsp; One of the pirates swung from the rigging and severed Papa’s head. Her heart slammed in her chest. “Papa! No!” But her cries fell on unhearing ears. She struggled against her captor with all her might, screaming, twisting, and kicking as he dragged her from Papa’s ship to the pirate’s sloop. He cast her into a dark, dank space, locking the door before tying her to the bed.
“Prudence.”
Jasper? Prudence struggled against the bonds holding her as she worked to force her eyes open. Her heart raced and sweat coated her skin.
“Prudence, wake up. It’s me, Jasper. You are having a nightmare. Wake up.”
A nightmare. Jasper. She forced her eyes open. Jasper had his arms around her holding her close to his chest. She worked to calm herself as she looked up at him. All was well.
“It was only a dream. You are safe here, with me.” Jasper loosened his hold then stroked her loose hair.
Prudence gave a small nod, relishing the comfort he offered. It may have been a nightmare, but not all that long ago it was her reality. Poor Papa. And all her fault.
“It might help to talk about it,” he said.
“No.” She couldn’t share this with him. He could not discover the truth about her. She was now the sole owner of her Papa’s shipping company. Jasper, kind as he may be, could never know her circumstances. The risk was far too great. He was and would have to remain her enemy. She needed to get back to America, take control of her inheritance, and marry Mr. Stratford. Odd, he had not come to mind since…well before Jasper kissed her. Could she truly wed a man she did not love? Did not desire?
“Would you like to see the island now?”
Prudence shook her head, then let it rest against his chest again. What harm could come from allowing him to comfort her for a short while longer?
Chapter 8
Jasper studied Prudence as he held her. The woman was a contradiction. So brave, yet so vulnerable at the same time. She had dozed off into a restful sleep more than an hour ago. He should leave her and go attend to his duties, or wake her and take her from the Marion so his men could see to the repairs and maintenance of the ship. No matter what he believed he should do, he could not bring himself to act. Holding her seemed natural, like he had done it all his life.
She fit perfectly against him. Her body molded to his, one of her legs rested across his thighs, her head lay on his chest, and one of her hands touched his shoulder as if she too were holding him. He lifted a lock of her hair and inhaled her scent. It was so soft, so feminine. When had he last held a woman? Last touched something so soft?
Miss Anna, the Viscount Heartford’s daughter. Jasper had fancied himself in love with her. Planned to offer for her and believed she loved him too. Their courtship had been intense. The entire ton believed they would wed. Until she cast him aside for his own brother. Next in line for the dukedom. Unscarred by the war—unhindered from all Jasper had seen and experienced. The memory stabbed at him as it always did. Anna had been nothing more than a title hunting miss. “Why settle for second in line when you can have the heir?” Her words pained him almost as much now as they had those ten years ago. Though he never truly believed her words, they still stung. It was the scar he returned home from war barring that she could not accept.
Jasper closed his eyes against the unwelcomed memory.
Prudence stirred, her leg sliding down his. He opened his eyes, returning his attention to the slumbering beauty he now held. If not for the hard lesson he’d learned at the hands of Anna, he would be on a mission to woo Prudence. She was not Anna. She had touched his scar without the slightest indication of revulsion, and kissed him passionately despite his marred appearance. Did she sense a connection between them as he did?
Bloody hell. What was wrong with him? She was no doubt like every other woman. Being American did not make her honest or true. She would no more settle for an imperfect spare heir marked by the horrors of war than she would a pirate, and he did not want a wife at any rate.
He gave her a gentle shake. “Prudence.”
After a moment she tipped her head up, their gazes meeting. “Yes?” she asked in a sleep strewn voice.
“We need to leave the ship. My men cannot perform their duties with us still aboard.” He moved out from beneath her and rose to his feet, gaining some much needed separation. “I will allow you a few minutes to ready yourself.”
“That is not necessary.” She stood then smoothed her hair with her hands before tugging on her clothing, straightening the wrinkles as best she could. “I am ready now.”
The pull he felt toward her made him want to turn and run. At the same time, he would give anything to have her close once more. How had she managed to get to him? When had she done it? It didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. He would deposit her on the first ship he found heading for America, then push her from his mind. It was what she wanted, after all. More importantly, doing so would remove her from his care and protection—allow him to get back to life as normal. Plunder pirate ships, rid the oceans of the truly deplorable, and send his blunt to the orphanage. He had no use for love and the heartache that came with the foolish emotion.
He waved her toward the door, holding it as she exited the cabin. “I will charge Hawkins with taking you around the island.”
She slowed and looked at him. “I was rather hoping you would show me your island.”
“I must see to my men and the repairs.” Spending any more time with her would be his undoing. He had to remain distant. As it was, the longing and excitement in her gaze tugged at his heart. He imagined she would embrace the island, her gaze full of wonder and awe as he showed it to her. Her reaction would surely melt the remaining ice incasing his heart—something he could not risk.
“I understand.” She offered a weak half smile.
The disappointment in her voice tugged at him. Don’t do it. “I do not suppose any harm would come from leaving Hawkins in charge of the men.”
“Truly?” Her eyes lit with happiness as she glanced at him again.
He offered his arm. “Yes. Hawkins is more than capable of handling things.”
* * * *
Prudence could not ignore the emotional battle in his eyes. It was as if he detested her one moment and wanted to please her the next. But what did it mean? Why would he wish to escape her company then choose to remain with her in less than a few breaths’ time? Did it have to do with his past—the one he worked as hard to hide as she did her own? More importantly, why had her heart sunk clear to her toes when she thought he would not be the one spending time with her?
Jasper led her across the main deck to where a ladder hung over the rail. “I will go down first. Follow after me and watch your step.”
She removed her hand from his arm. His concern warmed her heart, but she could not resist the urge to prove her ability to care for herself. “This is not the first time I have left a ship by way of a ladder. I will be quite alright, I assure you.” She tossed a coy smile his way.
Questions flashed in his eyes, but he did not speak a single one before starting down the ladder. Prudence followed close behind like he had bid her to do. A glance around revealed that most of the crew remained near the ship either in the water or on the beach. She was grateful to be in britches as she made her way down the rope-ladder one step at a time. Not only did they keep her well covered but they lent an ease of movement one could not experience in a gown. The ladder swung under their weight but no more than she had expected. When she reached the bottom, he lifted her into his arms, sending her pulse into a frenzy.
“I am not afraid of a little sea water. There is no need for you to carry me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck despite her verbal protest. In truth, she felt safe for the first time since her Papa’s ship was attacked. Safe in the arms of a pirate? Ridiculous. But true all the same.
“Allow me to be a gentleman.” He flashed a charming smile.
The sea lapped at his legs as he traversed through low tide toward the shore. Sh
e inhaled the warm, salty air deeply as she relished the sensations he caused in her simply by carrying her as he did. His strength combined with the familiar sounds and scents soothed her. She tipped her head back to gaze at him.
There was more to him than being a pirate—she had sensed it since their first interaction and only became more convinced by the day. He had manners she doubted one could learn from a life of plundering and killing and he had proven himself honorable on more than one occasion. Utterly surprising, considering his chosen lifestyle.
He told her he had been a privateer before becoming a pirate, but she could not stop herself from wanting to know what he was before that. “Captain Blackmore?”
“I gave you leave to use my given name.” He stepped onto the shore then sat her on her feet.
“Yes, but—” She protested as he led her across the beach toward the thick vegetation the white sand gave way to.
He drew her to a stop and stared into her eyes. “I want to hear you say it.”
Being so familiar with him would have consequences. She’d never been so familiar with any gentleman before—not even Mr. Stratford and she was expected to marry him. At the least it would make Jasper and her friends. She glanced up at the sky weighing her choice. At the most it would make them…what? Did she wish to count him among her friends? Did she long for something more? Something deeper? Was her resistance because she had developed feelings she did not want to grow further?
“Look at me and say my name, Prudence,” He urged in a velvety tone.
She met his gaze once again, shocked by the longing that reflected there. Mr. Stratford had never looked at her that way. No man had. She could not continue to lie to herself. Jasper had become more than the enemy. She had developed genuine feelings for him. Feelings she would never have for her intended.
Not once in her life had she allowed fear to rule her, and she’d not let it stop her now. She wanted to see where whatever this thing happening between them went. “Jasper,” she said on a shallow breath. It seemed so natural. As though she’d been born to speak his name. A smile spread across her lips. Did he feel the pull between them? Did it frighten him as it did her?