Anything He Wants: Castaway (#6)

by Sara Fawkes

  “Yeah,” I muttered, taking the book away from him and staring at it in my hands.

  “All warfare is based on deception.” His finger under my chin brought my head up to look at him. “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak. The art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”

  By the third sentence I realized he was quoting the book. “Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting,” Lucas continued, his tone soft. Those blue-green eyes dipped lower, looking at my mouth. “All is fair in love and war.”

  “To know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”

  Lucas blinked at my quote, then looked back up into my eyes. A smile, probably the most honest I’d seen on his face, creased his lips. “Very true.”

  Suddenly shy, I broke off our gaze and rolled sideways off the bed. “Thank you for bringing me dinner.” I was careful to keep the bed between the two of us.

  “No problem. Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He winked. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  My eyes grew wide in alarm as Lucas, whistling now, moved over toward the door. “Sleep tight,” he added, smirking, before letting himself out.

  I puffed out a breath, exasperated. Men. Pushing the clothes to the ground in a heap beside the bed, I flopped back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. I wasn’t the least bit tired, but I still pulled the comforter over me, grabbing the book and thumbing back to my place. This is going to be a long week.

  CHAPTER 3

  There was no light from within the windowless room when I awoke, save for the dim glow from a nearby nightlight. The bed bobbed and swayed beneath me, reminding me via a suddenly queasy stomach that I was aboard a ship. I flopped an arm sideways and was relieved to find myself alone in the bed.

  Pulling the sheets from my body, I paused when I heard a faint snort coming from the middle of the room. Crawling quietly across the bed, I peeked over the edge and saw Lucas lying on the ground, fast asleep. The dim light still managed to outline his shape and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. The man was lying spread-eagle on the floor, taking up as much space as he could. The blankets he had used for cover and padding were twisted around his slim body, and from the amount of skin showing… Blushing, I rolled over in the bed, not wanting to discover whether he really was as naked as he looked.

  I waited a moment before pulling the sheets from around my body, moving as quietly as I could out of bed and onto my feet. Grabbing the entire pile of clothing on the floor, I tiptoed around the dark man’s prone form. The thin carpet was cool, the creaking of my footsteps blending in with the rest of the ship’s noises. I breathed a sigh of relief when I locked myself inside the bathroom and quickly changed clothes, washing my face and pulling my frazzled hair back into a quick ponytail. Peeking out of the bathroom, I moved as quietly as I could toward the door, slipping into my shoes and a wool pea coat, then snuck out of the bedroom.

  There wasn’t a soul in sight, and I let out a relieved breath. From far below I heard someone cough, and there was a low din of voices coming from nearby. I tentatively made my way along the metal ground, moving toward the voices. The last room door was open, and as I poked my head inside all talking ceased. A roomful of large men stared at me.

  Cafeteria, my mind registered, but the rest of me froze. I tried to speak but nothing would come out, so I just waved. That seemed to break the silence, and they turned back to their meals as I pulled my head back out of the doorway. Lucy, I thought, you are such a ninny.

  Deciding against going downstairs, I headed towards the upper deck and had to push hard against the door to get it to open. Grey clouds covered the sun, so I had no idea what time I’d awoken. The wind blew across the deck something fierce, the deck beneath my feet bucking and diving. Ocean spray filled the air, covering me with a fine layer of mist within seconds. Pulling my coat tight around me, I held tightly to the thin railing alongside the ship, watching the ocean heave around me. I’d grabbed another seasickness tab earlier in the bathroom and was glad I took the added precaution. My stomach didn’t like the rolling seas all that much, but otherwise I thought the whole thing fantastic.

  I was the only one foolish enough to be outside this early in the morning. While that meant I had the deck to myself, I could also understand why everyone else preferred to stay inside as the cold penetrated my thick coat. Looking around, I noticed another entrance atop the deck and, staying close to the walls, made my way to the door. Pulling it open, I got a draft of warm air across my frozen nose, and quickly hustled inside. The steps here led upwards, and I climbed them hesitantly, peeking to see who was inside.

  Smoky air filled the narrow cabin, the telltale smell of tobacco letting me know I wasn’t alone. Voices mumbled overhead, and I poked my head above floor level to see two men sitting in stools bolted to the floor, looking out of windows lining the dash. I recognized the captain from yesterday, but not the man beside him. Both had the same look about them, gruff and weatherworn, but neither exuded the danger of the men I’d seen below.

  “Well, lookit what the cat drug in.”

  I ducked my head, giving a shy wave as both men turned in their seats to look at me. The captain gestured for me to come up. “Well don’t just stand there,” he continued, old face wrinkling in a smile. “I promise ya, we don’t bite.”

  “I used to,” the man beside the captain said, then gave me a gap-toothed grin. “But I’ve already lost most of the worst offenders.”

  The captain gave the other man a slap upside the head, eliciting an amused squawk. Biting my lip to keep from smiling, I climbed the remaining stairs and into the captain’s area. From my new position, I saw a fold out table sitting between them, with pennies sitting in a wide bowl at the center. The ship listed side to side more up here than down in my room, and I held on to the thick railing beside the stairs.

  The captain held out his hand. “Seth Matthews,” he said in a gruff voice as I stepped forward, “although nobody calls me by my first name.” He jerked a thumb toward the other man. “This rowdy ass is my first mate, Francis Buttercup.”

  “Bouchard,” the other man piped up, elbowing his captain then shaking my hand. “Call me Frank.” His hands, like the captain’s, were as rough as rawhide. He gestured to the table. “You play Poker, hon?”

  Not waiting for an answer, the men fished out a stool from the captain’s quarters right behind the wheelhouse, and I was dealt a hand of cards. The pennies were redistributed evenly between the three of us; apparently the two men weren’t so cutthroat as not to share their wealth. The captain kept his eye on the ocean ahead, as well as the monitors and gauges on his dash, but was as active a participant in the game as anyone.

  “Do you get many people coming up here?” I asked at one point, picking up a Queen of Hearts from the deal.

  “Not really, and we try to discourage it when they do.” Captain Matthews rubbed his head. “We don’t aim to associate with most of the folks who come on this ship, if you know what I mean.”

  I let out a relieved sigh, glad not to be the only one who thought the same thing. “I’ve never been on a boat this big before,” I said.

  “First time at sea then?” When I nodded, the captain waggled his eyebrows. “Want to steer?”

  My answer was a big grin and I was soon behind the wheel of the small barge, learning the not-so-subtle tricks of keeping a boat on track. “Oh, you should’ve seen my fishing ship,” Matthews said, grinning at the memory. “She handled like a dream, cutting through the water like nobody’s business. Fastest ship in the fleet, and with the best crew to boot. Nothing like this hunk of rust.”

  “This isn’t your ship?”

  “No, it is.” Matthews didn’t sound all that enthusiastic about the fact, but he still patted the dash as if comforting a pet. “We’ve put some serious blood and sweat into her to make her better and faster, so she’s a bit of a sleeper. She may not look like much, but she can outrun most
vessels her size. Still, it’ll always be like comparing a tank to a high-end sports car.”

  His wistful tone made me smile and I was about to ask him to tell me more when a chill blast came from the lower entrance. I froze as I heard a Scottish voice say, “I thought I saw her come up this way, boss.”

  Niall’s head poked above the deck, and a wicked grin split his face. “Well well, if it isn’t the little sheila herself. We’ve been looking all over for you, darlin’.” He waved dismissively at the men beside me. “You mates stand aside, she’s coming with me.”

  “Yeah,” Matthews murmured, “I don’t think so.” Both men moved in front of me, forming a thick wall. “She’s staying right here.”

  Niall’s angry gaze switched to the two men as I saw Matthews reach under the table behind him. “You’ll do as I say,” the Australian demanded, but his threats didn’t seem to faze the seamen in the slightest.

  “You gonna let him talk to you like that?” Frank asked calmly, not taking his eyes off the two men.

  “No,” Matthews replied, “I don’t think I much like his tone.”

  Face mottling with rage at the defiance, Niall pushed his thick coat aside, showing the handgun at his hip. “She’s coming,” he bit out slowly, “with us.”

  Frank whistled. “He thinks he’s a gunslinger, captain.”

  Matthews grinned. “That’s not a gun.” He glanced over at Frank. “I’ve always wanted to say this to an Australian.” He pulled out what he was hiding beneath the table, pointing the shotgun straight at Niall. “Now, there’s a gun,” he said, lips pulled back in a grim smile.

  Immediately both sets of hands across from me went up. “What is it with this bloody ship?” Niall raged. “I didn’t pay good money to get treated like this. You work for me!”

  “These men are mine, not yours,” Lucas’ cheery voice called up from the base of the stairs. I breathed a sigh of relief as he ascended, brushing past the two irate men. “Why don’t you get downstairs and see what your own boys are up to?”

  “Boss,” the Scotsman warned, blocking Niall’s path when the Australian looked ready to lunge.

  Niall shoved his man out of the way and pointed a finger at Lucas. “That girl’s ransom is mine, Loki.” Niall slapped away the other man’s grip but left without another word, banging the door shut behind him.

  “Ransom?” Matthews looked at me. “You must be important to someone big to get that man’s panties in such a twist.”

  “My brother.” Lucas cocked his head at me. “Who doesn’t know she’s here with me.”

  Matthews whistled. “You’re on your own there,” he said, snorting. “I’m not getting in the middle of that one.” The captain pointed a thick thumb toward Lucas. “Did he ever mention how I met this city slicker?”

  I grinned, sensing a good story. The tension in the room finally eased as Lucas rolled his eyes and leaned against the console. “You going to tell everyone that story?”

  “Only the ones I’m sure will hold it over your head.” The captain gave me a wink. “I’m just off the job, at my favorite hole in the ground looking to unwind and get a little drunk. So this man comes up to me in a bar, dressed in a suit and tie, and asks me if I’m looking for work. Mind you, I stink of fish, haven’t had a good shower in weeks, just got off my boat. Had to fire a friend’s son from my crew because I caught him smoking weed, so I wasn’t in the best of moods anyhow.

  “He offers me big money, enough to get my attention. I still think he’s a pretentious little ass though so I make him a deal: if he works for me on the boat, I’ll listen to whatever he has to say. Lad here tries to play up his smirky bullshit but I’m not having it; frankly, I was happy to see his back so I could get back to drinking. Well, imagine my surprise when he shows up the next morning at my boat ready to work. Totally unprepared too, but still there.” Matthews snorted. “I immediately regretted my offer, but I’d given him my word.”

  “You worked me to the bone,” Lucas added, crossing his arms. The slight smile on his face took out any bite from his words, however.

  “I worked you like I work any of my other greenies. It was the boys that gave you most of the flack.” The captain looked over at me. “But wouldn’t you know it, the little shit managed to get through it without breaking like a little girl. Even won the respect of my men for giving as good as he got while working hard. Means a lot when you’re on the water. So when we get to land and I offered him his share of the take, he tells me to keep it and offers me a job.”

  “Which you took, if I remember correctly.”

  The captain shrugged. “Made more off that one little run than I’d brought home my previous season of fishing.” His face turned introspective. “I miss the men, but they had families to take care of and I didn’t want any of this shit to wash over onto them. Frank here,” he nudged the first mate with his elbow, “wouldn’t leave the boat, so he came along. Hell, we’re old with ex-wives and no kids, perfect for this kind of life.”

  Picturing Lucas in bright waders, handling fish guts, proved impossible for my brain to fathom. He saw me watching him and gave me that trademark smirk. “What,” he asked, “don’t think I can handle myself with the big boys?”

  I was saved from having to answer when a muffled bang came from below. Matthews immediately swiveled around in his chair and grabbed the wheel, giving it a few steers, then checked his instruments. “I’ve lost the engines,” he said, amusement gone. “Rudder’s still there, but we’ve got no power.”

  “Can I help?” I asked as Lucas hustled me down the stairs.

  “Sure. Do you know much about diesel mechanics?”

  Disappointment stabbed through me. “No,” I muttered as we quickly moved to the stairs leading down to our room. The unfairness of my situation was getting to me: not only was I a prisoner, I was a useless prisoner.

  Some of my frustration must have shown because when we got to the room, Lucas paused. “I need to keep you here for now. All my focus has to be on this, but I’ll keep you updated on whatever we find. Will that work?”

  Slightly mollified I nodded, and Lucas flashed me a smile that made my insides suddenly melt a little. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me,” he said, stepping out of the room.

  “Yes sir,” I said, saluting smartly. My lips twitched into a smile as I slammed the door in his face. I locked it, true to my word, then went and sat down on the bed.

  My eyes ran across the narrow confines of the room. Wouldn’t it be funny if I ended up dying here? The morbid thought shook me, and I lay on the thin mattress, staring at the back wall.

  I wished I could trace back what had caused me to become twisted up in this situation. Lucas was the easiest one to blame. He’d brought me onto this ship. My parents’ deaths had kicked me off my college path, but I couldn’t bear to blame them. Even now, several years later, their deaths stung too much to linger on. My life had been spiraling downwards for so long, and just as I thought my luck had changed…

  Why ruin what we have with platitudes?

  The memory of Jeremiah’s words, spoken to me only a few days before, dashed across my heart like a scalding acid. I closed my eyes tight, fighting against tears that had already spilled too many times. His response to my accidental slip had made me leave the mansion, driving me into my current situation. I hadn’t meant to say the words aloud; they just came out. I love you.

  Like a slap to the face, he’d rejected the words, told me not to say them again, and then left the house.

  Was I really so wrong to speak my feeling? The question bugged me more than anything. I hadn’t expected to hear him say the words back. I was a rational girl: we’d been together less than a month, and that wasn’t long enough for everyone. There had been no stipulations that the word was off limits; if I’d known he preferred those emotions left unsaid, I would have stayed silent.

  The whole situation had blindsided me, but to blame him for my current situation? That would be so nice, to lay all t
he blame at his feet. I sighed. Sometimes I wished I were less rational.

  There was a knock at the door. I sat up, then got to my feet and slowly padded to it. “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Lucas.”

  The voice was muffled by the door but I grinned. “Figure out something for me to do?” I asked loudly, unbolting the latch and swinging the door open.

  Yellow teeth grinned at me. “Hello, love.”

  I tried to slam the door shut but suddenly there was a large body blocking my way. Abandoning the door, I raced for the bed, Niall only inches behind me. He grabbed at my hair but I managed to wrest myself free, running across the room only to be trapped by the far corner. Niall paused, seeming to glory in my helplessness, but when he rounded the corner of the bed I leapt atop the thin mattress, sprinting for the door.

  I was in the open doorway, almost free, when a large hand grabbed around my midsection and hauled me back. “Lucas!” I screamed, and then I was knocked sideways into the bathroom doorframe, and the door slammed shut.

  “Loverboy’s on the other end of the ship.” He grinned, teeth glinting in the low light. “I’d like to hear you scream my name.”

  He pressed me backwards and I rolled sideways off the doorframe, my hip slamming hard against the edge of the low dresser. The picture frame, previously stuck to the wood surface, broke free. As Niall leaned in, presumably for a kiss, I grabbed the frame up with one hand and brought it across my assailant’s face. My grip on the item was flimsy and the blow glancing at best, but he still pulled back far enough for me to dart into the bathroom.

  There was a pause as he surveyed the damage, then a roar of outrage. I tried to close the door but had no leverage, and Niall barged into the narrow room. The Australian’s earlier amusement was gone; one hand gripped my throat and he slammed me hard against the back wall of the shower. Off balance and held up by one meaty arm, I scrabbled at his hand and he repeated the move twice more until stars danced across my vision. With his free hand, he wiped the side of his head, then snarled and showed me the blood on his fingers. “You little bitch.”