by Kimberly Nee
Ryan laughed again, shaking his head. “Pathetic.”
“He is grievously injured.” She didn’t know why she defended Diego, but the words were out before she could stop them. “I don’t know what you did to him, but he is with fever.”
“I did my best to send him to hell,” Ryan spat back, his footfalls resounding as he closed the space between them. “Must’ve sold his soul to the devil, though. Found him pinned to the deck of his ship by a wood shard, but the bastard put up one hell of a struggle.”
“And yet, you clap irons on him and throw him in this festering dung heap?” She pushed herself to her feet. Her headache was gone, her mind clear and unmuddled now. Perfect for showing Ryan she hardly feared him. “If anyone has sold their soul to the devil, it’s you.”
His round eyes narrowed and lights exploded within her skull as the back of his hand slammed into her right cheekbone. The blow knocked her back a step but didn’t take her from her feet. Her eyes watered and a fresh throb burst through her head, nevertheless she locked her arms at her sides and ignored the tears stinging her right eye. “Bastard.”
“You never did know when to keep your mouth shut, Gabby. Too bad God didn’t see fit to make you at least a mite attractive. Would’ve given you at least one use on this earth.”
“That would be one use more than you have,” she spat, fighting back a wince as the side of her face throbbed. It was hot, and most likely swelling already. With each heartbeat, pain pulsed through her cheek.
He raised his hand and this time, she couldn’t help her flinch. A low, cold chuckle filled the hold. “Not so tough after all, are you, wench?”
Ryan didn’t wait for an answer, but seized her by the arm and yanked her almost off her feet as he marched back toward the door. She stumbled over her own feet, tripped over a loose plank, and nearly sprawled facedown as they ascended the stairs to the deck, where he flung her away from him as if she disgusted him.
What had been grayish light below was dazzlingly bright sunlight above. Her eyes continued to water, stinging from the sudden assault, and she had no choice but to raise a hand up to shade them from the blinding light. As she did, her heart sank at the number of men surrounding her. Whatever Ryan had planned, every man on board turned out to watch.
Diego was nowhere to be found amongst those gathered around. Two men stood off to the side, ready to lower a longboat into the water. Her belly lurched again. There was only one reason why a longboat would be going into the water.
“So you’ve a bit of understanding now, don’t you?” Ryan’s voice was even oilier than usual, his smile widening to reveal three missing teeth—one of which was a front tooth—and it made him even more oafish. “In the boat with you now.”
Her feet refused to obey. To climb into the boat meant death, and she would not willingly walk to her own execution.
Ryan was none too patient, slamming a fist into her left shoulder blade, jarring her into taking a step. “Go on, then. Into the boat!”
“You’re mad. Do you know what will happen when word reaches Markham that you not only kidnapped me, but then marooned me? William will send out half the fleet to hunt you down.”
“Will he now?” Ryan chuckled, giving her another shove toward the boat.
She stumbled forward several steps, regained her footing, and tossed over her shoulder, “Aye. You will see. You will rue this day.”
All the men gathered on deck laughed. Her stomach soured a bit more as she gazed from one to another. Ryan didn’t seem at all perturbed by the thought of half of the Markham’s impressive fleet coming after him, bent on revenge. Though they were merchant ships, her brother William made certain they were almost as heavily armed as the British Royal Navy fleet, as they made perilous journeys around the globe and frequently encountered pirates of all walks.
Another shove and her knee struck the edge of the longboat to send a flare of pain spitting through her leg. Before she could right herself, Ryan bent, scooped up her feet, and toppled her into the boat. It became clear where Diego was as she landed on something solid and a long, low groan greeted her.
Ryan and his two cronies climbed in and two men lowered the boat. James and Tommy hunkered down on the narrow bench seats, while Ryan stood, arms folded, a boot planted squarely in the middle of her back. Diego groaned softly, his eyes opening to narrow slits as he mumbled, “Later, love. Await me in bed, though. I’ll return when I can…”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, be quiet.”
Since his hands were now free, one slid about her waist, his fingers creeping beneath her tunic to gently stroke her back. A sudden chill raced through her at the caress. Damn it. There should be no chills. There should be nothing at all. And she certainly shouldn’t want to close her eyes and nestle her head against the solid expanse of his chest. What the devil is wrong with me?
The pressure of Ryan’s foot on her back pushed her even harder into Diego. His eyes had closed again, but his hand was not still. Those long fingers swept lightly over her overheated skin, each stroke bringing a fresh chill. Her eyelids grew heavy and she gave in to the urge to sink into him. Letting her head come to rest on his chest, she was reassured by the surprisingly steady heartbeat. It was difficult to not be afraid, not with what awaited them, but at least she wouldn’t be alone when she died. Diego Santa Cruz might not be her favorite person on the earth, but at least she wouldn’t be alone.
Ryan barked orders to his men and they took up the oars to slice through the water. Cracking one eye, Gabby swallowed hard as the ship loomed over them at first, but shrank with each pull of the oars. The ocean was calm, and apparently the tides were with them, for it didn’t take long for them to slip out of the ship’s shadow entirely.
There was no wind, only relentless, thickening heat. Yet Diego seemed at peace again. He’d uttered no sound since she’d toppled onto him, but his hand never went still. It was almost soothing, much to her chagrin, and keeping awake proved to be most difficult.
His hand slipped down, off her, and the brief burst of disappointment surprised her. The pressure on her back eased and she shifted. Diego groaned again, but it wasn’t the same sounding groan as the others. This was almost a sigh, and when she glanced down, it was to see him grinning.
“Devil,” she whispered.
“So I’ve been told,” he muttered back.
“We’re being marooned,” she whispered, mindful of Ryan’s boot still firmly wedged between her shoulder blades.
“I gathered.”
“Quiet!” Ryan lifted his foot from her back to deliver a swift blow to Diego’s side. Diego groaned and swore beneath his breath, going still beneath her.
Bracing a hand against the bottom of the boat, she pushed herself off Diego and twisted to glare at Ryan. “You are the lowest of the low, Carmichael. Attacking an injured man on the way to his execution.”
He crossed his arms, his beefy face splitting in a smile that was more a leer. “The lowest of the low,” he mimicked, raising the timbre of his voice until it almost squeaked. “Hear that, boys? An insult from a tombitch.”
James and Tommy chortled while she fumed, her fists clenched at her sides. Ryan blew her a kiss and added, “Perhaps we oughtn’t even bother with dragging your sorry bones to the beach. What do you think, boys? Should we simply toss her right here?”
Here was equidistant between the Nereus and the faint strip of land emerging from the horizon. The sun’s relentless rays made a plunge into the sea fairly inviting, but there was no way she would ever be able to swim to land. The distance was simply too great.
James exploded into laughter as if Ryan’s words were the most amusing thing he’d ever heard. “Oy, that’d be a sight! She’d sink right to the bottom. I say we do it.”
“You look pale, Gabby love,” Ryan jeered, bending to shove his face directly in hers. “What is it? Can’t swim?”
“I swim just fine, thank you very kindly,” she retorted. “But only a coward would throw a lady
into the sea.”
“A lady!” Spittle flew from his lips as he almost choked on his laughter. “Where is there a lady anywhere near here? I don’t see any ladies. I see one pathetic Spaniard and a ragamuffin who likes to play at being a lad.”
“Leave off, Carmichael.” Diego’s words were soft, but without a hint of the weakness that had plagued his speech thus far.
“Oh, now, isn’t this sweet?” Ryan crooned, glancing at Tommy. “The dog comin’ to the defense of the bitch. She your bitch, Spaniard?”
Gabby lost her balance, sitting down hard as Diego shoved her off and slowly sat up. His face was almost gray, jaw clenched and sweat beaded on his forehead, but there was no mistaking the anger in every taut line of his body. The boat rose as it crested a wave, and Diego rose with it, steady despite the shifting beneath them.
Her stomach clenched at the long, dark bloodstain spreading from just below his right hip to just below his knee. The patch was wet, shiny with fresh blood, and he clearly favored that leg even as he stood face to face with Ryan. The color slowly rose in his face as he growled, “Call her a bitch again, and we’ll see how well you swim, hijo de perra.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say, Spaniard?”
“I called you as you are, you son of a bitch.”
Another bark of laughter, and Ryan slapped at his thigh. “You amuse me, Spaniard. It’s almost a shame I won’t be there to watch you die. And believe me, die you will.”
“You should certainly hope I die,” Diego replied slowly. “For if I don’t, you’d be well-served to keep a healthy watch over one shoulder for the rest of your days.”
“Is that so?”
“That, my friend, is a promise.”
Ryan held Diego’s stare for a long moment, and Gabby almost laughed aloud as Ryan’s pink cheeks grew pinker still. Then, with a muttered oath beneath his breath, he turned back toward the bow of the longboat.
Diego swayed slightly, and as she reached up to offer a steadying hand, Ryan swung back. His fist connected solidly with the shiny dark stain on Diego’s leg. A gut-wrenching scream tore free as Diego clutched his injured leg and dropped to his knees. Without pausing to gloat to his mates, Ryan simply grabbed Diego by the front of his tunic, hauled him back to his feet. “Now you will die,” he growled, tossing him over the side.
She swallowed her horrified shriek as Diego disappeared from view, sucked down into the foamy water as if swallowed by some mythical sea serpent. The three men erupted into raucous laughter as she stared down at the foam where Diego disappeared. Another glance at the island. A bit closer now.
She sprang up from the bottom of the boat and, before anyone could grab her, flung herself over the side and into the water.
Chapter Three
The saltwater stung her eyes, but she ignored it as she ducked beneath the waves and cut through the water like a scythe. Down. Down. Her ears threatened to rupture. Her lungs threatened to explode. Her brain screamed at her to surface as bright white dots flashed through her skull.
A hand clamped down about her wrist and she very nearly sucked in a mouthful of brine. Instead, she kicked furiously, bursting through the surface with a shower of droplets, and breathed deep. Diego popped up beside her, frighteningly pale and only barely moving. She looped an arm about his chest and forced her legs to obey her command to kick.
The long boat was smaller now, rowing back toward the Nereus. Ryan’s laughter mocked her as it rolled across the water, and she tried to block it from her ears as she put her energy into reaching that small strip of land in the distance.
Fortunately, the water made Diego’s bulk almost nonexistent, for he slumped against her, black hair a stark contrast to his waxen skin. A fading bruise mottled the skin beneath his right eye and a healing cut marred his face from his cheekbone to his jaw and if she knew no better, she’d have sworn he was dead.
Her arms ached, her legs began stubbornly defying her brain’s orders, and land seemed no closer. Her entire body wanted to give up, and twice, she simply stopped trying. Both times, she sank below the waves, only to sputter back to the surface with a breathless gasp.
The third time she went down, she didn’t have the strength to pull them both up again. Water rushed over her head, filled her ears, and she sucked in a mouthful, choked on it, and promptly inhaled more.
I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to die.
The words reverberated inside her head, even as she sank lower still. It was no use. She was spent.
A hazy fog filled her head, swirling with invitation. Death would be peaceful, no doubt. But dying would not be.
Water rushed by her and when she breathed again, it was air.
Diego stirred against her and she realized he was the reason why she’d broken through the surface again. His assistance was brief, but it was enough, and when her feet touched sand, she almost wept with relief.
Though the water was calm, the waves lapping at the shore were enough to set her to stumbling and tripping. Diego leaned heavily against her as they emerged onto the sand, barely putting any weight on his injured leg. She managed to make it up to dry sand, hopefully far enough from the water’s reach, and collapsed to her knees, releasing him at the same time. He fell face down onto the beach, where he lay motionless. A moment later, she joined him.
A breeze stirred, tickling Gabby’s nape as her hair swept over it. She coughed and opened her eyes. Land. A beautiful sight indeed.
The sun no longer blazed overhead, but began its descent into the horizon, and when she craned her neck to see how much light would remain, every muscle in her back and shoulders screamed in protest. As she sank back into the sand, Diego stirred beside her. He gingerly eased over onto his back, and she nearly retched as blood dripped from his breeches into the sand. He was still so frighteningly pale, and his breathing was so very shallow.
But his eyes opened and he coughed, then groaned. “Bloody hell…”
“Your wound bleeds again.”
“Again? It hasn’t stopped.”
“When did you receive it?”
He winced. “When that bastard attacked.”
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Diego.” Still on her belly, she crawled across the sand to his side. There was a slit in his buff colored breeches, the frayed ends unraveling with each movement. He didn’t offer up any further protest as she parted the ruined fabric.
Heat wafted up from his skin, and she swallowed hard at the sight of his injury. Shards of wood impaled him through the outer thigh and as she gently probed, she feared she would retch. Several more shards were embedded in the muscle as well.
He sucked in his breath as she poked, tensing as she plucked one free, and relaxing as she sank down beside him again. “There are more in there, I’m afraid,” she said softly, resting her hand on his knee. “I don’t know if I can get them all out.”
“Please…” he gritted through clenched teeth, “leave them for now.”
“I have no way of knowing how many pieces are inside you.” She resisted the urge to smooth his hair away from his face and offer him at least a whit of comfort. His pain was almost palpable to her, an agony she could only imagine. Especially considering what Ryan had done to him in the longboat. The pain had to be greater than he let on.
“Do not worry yourself, Gabby.” Another ragged breath. “I will be fine in a few days.”
“I’m not worried.” Hopefully she sounded more confident than she felt. As the sun set, the air grew increasingly cooler and made worse by her wet clothes, set off a storm of chills rippling through her. She hugged herself to ward off the chill. “It is simply that you will be useless to me otherwise.”
He turned to gaze at her, his breathing normal again. “Useless to you, eh?”
“Useless.”
“You never cared much about whether or not I had two good legs.”
“It never
mattered much before now, did it? I don’t recall ever being marooned with you before now.”
“True. Very true.” A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and some of the gray left his skin. “But then again, I doubt it would have mattered. Besides, you discovered how good they were that night in the corridor to my cabin.”
Her belly did a slow, not entirely unpleasant roll. It sent a rush of heat streaking through her, strong enough to displace the chill. “Yes…well…I did do a fair amount of holding on.”
He laughed softly. “That you did. It took weeks for those gouges to disappear.”
That heat took a decidedly unpleasant turn. “Enough. I do not wish to speak of the past.”
“Nor do I. I prefer to leave the past in the past.”
“Then we are in agreement. We will not speak of those days?”
“No.” A darkness stole over his features and his smile faded. “They are not pleasant memories by any means.”
That stung. Perhaps the ending wasn’t pleasant, but she recalled those times with a bittersweet fondness that always made her a bit wistful. She shivered, wrapping her arms tighter about herself. “I hadn’t realized they were entirely unpleasant, either.”
“No.” Diego sighed. “Perhaps unpleasant isn’t entirely accurate.” He slowly turned onto his left side and propped his head on his hand. The smile was back as he added, “Some memories are quite pleasant, actually. You always were somewhat…adventurous.”
His wolfish smile sent a dart of heat slicing through her. She couldn’t help but grin back. “I suppose adventurous is one word that describes me.”
A pained gasp cut his laughter short and he sank back to the sand. The setting sun filled the distant sky with streaks of red, violet, and pale gold. Gabby shivered again. “This certainly is an unfortunate change of events. In all of my years on the water, being marooned was never one of my fears.”