Wide, narrow, hair-covered, tattooed, fleshy, and muscular torsos bustled about the decks, oblivious to their improper attire. Like Cain, the majority of sailors overlooked a need for shoes. Their bare feet padded across the waxed planks, familiar with askance nails, splintered corners, and piles of unused ropes. Toes gripped lines as they hauled themselves on burly arms up long lengths of rigging, across high bars to untangle bound sails.
Like monkeys.
The thought made her giggle. The sound eased her discomfort. She found the ability to set one foot in front of the other and move forward at Cain’s subtle nudge.
“What amuses you?”
She shook her head and tried to curb her smile. He’d no doubt find the association disagreeable. Avoiding direct eye contact with the men Cain led her past, she followed at his side until they reached the main, and tallest, mast. There, Cain released her elbow to take both her hands in his.
“Tell me, what do you know of ships?”
“That they sail on water.” She let out a light laugh to cloak her lie. Ships she knew. Sailing, she couldn’t stand. At the puzzled draw to Cain’s brows, she elaborated with a half-truth. “My father took me to France once. I spent the entire voyage below decks, moaning in my bed.”
“Ah.” He moved to her side and gestured to the rear of the ship where they’d come from. “Let’s start with the basics. That is the stern, or aft.” He pointed in the opposite direction, toward a series of three much smaller sails. “And that is the bow, or forward. The sails you see there belong to the jib. And the jib brings the wind over to the main sail.” He traced the lines as he spoke. “Aiding it to fill when we sail into the wind.”
Stepping to the side, Cain indicated his left. “This is larboard. You’ll remember it by the opening to port.” He pointed to a lowering in the rail where a section of the siding bore a neat square hole. “And that way,” he pointed across his body, “is starboard.”
Her gaze touched the four quadrants of the ship. She suffered a moment of shame for misleading someone who took such care to teach. But she dismissed the wave of guilt with the reminder that Richard’s life depended on her lies and replied, “I can remember that.”
Cain’s grin carried the impishness of a devil. “We’ll keep it simple.” He tucked her hand into his, gave her a gentle tug, and urged her closer to the rail. There he pointed at the three masts, beginning with the one nearest the bow. “Foremast, main mast, mizzenmast.” His grin broadened, and he winked. “We’ll skip the sails, I think.”
“Good.” She never had been able to remember every canvas, though she knew a full-rigged ship bore twenty-one. Numbers were far easier for her mind.
“Come, there are two places you must see. Both, I think you’ll like.”
Before she could prepare to move, Cain pulled her off the rail. She stumbled over a round of rope and grabbed onto his elbow to keep from falling. Laughter tumbled free, joining with his rich baritone, as he guided her to her feet and hurried her to a set of narrow stairs built into the bow. One hand at her waist, he ushered her up ahead of him.
India emerged to find two men bent over the smooth floor planks. Stiff bristled brushes in hand, they scrubbed at the deck. The heavier one looked up with a toothless smile. “Morn’ t’ye, miss.” His gaze tracked to Cain. “An’ t’ye, Cap’n.”
Cain’s smile didn’t falter as he inclined his head toward the stairs. At the subtle gesture, both men stood and scrambled down.
Drawing India near his side, Cain fitted one hand into the small of her back. Gentle pressure guided her close to the rail. She glanced around, the setting familiar. Only where the rope ladder had hung over the smooth wood the night he’d captured her—the very ladder she’d been half-dragged up—nothing marred the mirror finish now.
Her hair didn’t cling to her head in a soppy mess. With the ship in full sail, India’s long locks danced on the breeze. And Cain…
She pulled in a deep breath to temper the way her pulse jumped as she studied his profile. No longer the fierce stranger who stirred her fear, he stood at her side, a strange mix of friend, lover, and captor. In the regal angle of his jaw, she identified gentility. In the slight crookedness of his nose, she recognized a scoundrel.
His eyes found hers. Something she couldn’t name passed between them, a subtle acknowledgement of the attraction they shared. In the undercurrent of energy that arced through their locked gaze, India’s stomach fluttered. She drew in an unsteady breath. The smile he bore so casually faltered.
He reached between them to cup her cheek. Fractions away from the touch she yearned for, he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her shoulder and pointed at an object beyond. “Look there.”
His low, husky whisper scraped over her skin. Regretfully, she closed her eyes and steeled herself to the rules she had set. Whatever they’d shared must end, no matter how long she had secretly hoped Teddy would come and she could somehow exchange him for Richard. Moreover, she must remember that beneath the kindness Cain showed on occasion, he was the legendary pirate. He was everything she knew to be wrong, not the least of which came with his brazenly stated intentions to kill her intended. Handsome he might be. Masterful lover as well. But beneath all those bronzed good looks, he was still a murderer.
She followed the direction of his finger to a dark grey figure bobbing through the water, several feet away. Excitement bubbled, and she clutched the rail with a delighted gasp. “A dolphin!”
Cain chuckled. “No, my sweet.” He dropped his chin to her shoulder. The faintest touch of warm breath caressed the exposed skin at her collar. “A whale.”
The heat of his body flooded her awareness. He stood so close a subtle shift would meld his chest into her back. She closed her eyes, dug her nails into the wood beneath her hands. Ramrod straight, she held on, knowing if she dared to do more than breathe, she’d melt into him all over again.
Cain moved for her. One slight sidestep, and all that glorious warmth enveloped her. His hard chest offered strength her wobbling knees needed. She allowed the arm he slid around her waist to hold up legs that too many weeks of illness weakened. And she leaned back to give her struggling lungs room to expand. With effort she asked, “What is it about the sea, Cain?”
“Hm?” he murmured absently.
“The sea. What calls to the hearts of men?”
“Freedom.” He tightened his hold around her waist, drawing her flush against his body. His fingers splayed across her belly. His thighs trapped her in place. The press of his hardened male flesh against her the small of her back shocked her, but it also sent a thrill coursing down her spine. She reveled in the evidence of his desire, let the curious sensations root in deep and swell her heart. Cain or Teddy…The lines blurred.
Dropping her head onto his shoulder, she turned her face to his. “Freedom?” How well she could relate to that desire.
“Aye. A sailor chooses who he will answer to. A captain follows no one’s demands but his own. Out here, a man creates his own destiny.”
The complete and utter control of one’s destiny—no wonder men gave their lives unto the sea. On land, propriety dictated behavior, governed actions that nature contradicted. In business, even owners must abide by rules if they cared to succeed. But here, beneath the blue sky, adrift on the even bluer water, no man served a master.
“Where are we?” she asked in a low whisper.
“In the Bahamas. Nassau is a day or two away. We sail faster with our hold virtually empty. You can see the shore if you look hard enough.” His lips moved through her hair, stirring goose bumps down her arms. Despite the warm breeze, India shivered.
“When I hold you close like this in sleep,” he murmured against the side of her neck. “I know no greater paradise.”
His kiss branded her throat. His words scored into her soul. India let out a soft moan and closed her eyes to the ache that stirred low in her womb. “Cain,” she whispered. “We can’t.”
As his mouth trailed
a path of fire closer to hers, he argued, “There is no one to stop us.”
Another moan vibrated in her throat. No greater truth had ever been spoken. On this ship, no one would care whether they indulged in carnal pleasure, or whether she must give herself to Richard. She’d already allowed Cain freedom to her body. Denying him now felt useless. Bordered on hypocritical.
But in the weeks previous, she’d been ill. Incapable of coherent argument. To embrace the broken oath and yield to what she most wanted worsened the already committed wrong.
At the soft touch of his lips against the corner of her mouth, she grabbed at resolve and turned her head. “There is loyalty and honor left.” She swallowed hard. “Even in you. I am promised to Richard.”
Cain let her go and stepped away. Ice invaded the space where he stood. Bereft and confused, India reached for his hand.
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Enjoy the whales, Miss Prescott. I have other matters to attend to. I will collect you shortly.”
Before she could protest, he bounded down the stairs.
She leaned on the rail and let the waves of regret ebb through her. What she would give to change her circumstance, or to be able to find the callous disrespect for life to pray Cain would succeed in killing Richard. But she couldn’t. Richard might be cold and motivated by money, yet he didn’t deserve to die for turning in a pirate. He didn’t deserve to die under any circumstance.
There is no one to stop us.
Cain’s words taunted. Her father would never know if she deliberately betrayed him. Richard didn’t make her tremble with a solitary look. Could harm come from enjoying a few days of selfish pleasure before she committed herself to the trapping confinement of marriage?
No, she argued with a fierce shake of her head. She possessed too much loyalty. Besides, the risks were too great. If this continued, she chanced the very real possibility of bearing Cain’s bastard. Better this ended now, before evidence of her unfaithful heart took root. If it hadn’t already.
Lifting her face to the breeze, she squinted at the lumpy horizon. There remained one thing she could embrace. However long Cain kept her aboard his ship, she controlled her fate. While she didn’t dare chance the yearnings of her body, she could let her heart run free. Wear the clothes of a man and pretend she’d left the India she knew somewhere back in England.
She didn’t have to entertain for tea. Didn’t have to serve her father’s many business guests. Didn’t have to wake at dawn to present herself for breakfast. And if she wanted to wear her hair in its current state of unrestraint, no one would scold.
A wry smirk danced on her mouth. She’d been naked for three weeks and no one had uttered a single protest so far.
Chuckling, she looked out over the motley crew of men. Each man carried out a different duty, and though mirror opposites stood on each side of the expansive deck, not a one of them executed the same chore. Some laughed. Some sang. Some kept to themselves while others worked in small groups.
Some watched her in a way that made her entirely uncomfortable. As if they could see through her immodest attire to what lay beneath. But though their eyes weighed heavily, not a one broke rank and file to disturb her solitude.
And not a one looked as if he despised his chosen line of work.
Freedom.
Her gaze found Cain through the sea of bodies. Standing near a stack of unopened crates, he spoke to a sailor. His hands animated his conversation, pointing to ropes, indicating the long wooden crossbar that secured the sail. He’d tamed his dark hair beneath a red bandana, but the raven lengths dusted between his shoulder blades. The blue shirt he’d donned before they left the cabin dangled uselessly from his waist, and in the bright sunlight, his tanned skin shone with perspiration.
India’s heart fluttered. The man was nothing short of breathtaking. Like a hand-carved statue, all the angles, rough edges, and harsh lines transformed into beauty. Only Cain was no cold statue made of stone. He lived and breathed. Every solid inch of him teemed with life.
As she watched, he grabbed hold of the rigging and climbed the ropes to stand on the sail’s halyard. Her breath caught as he let go. Incredibly, he balanced on the narrow foothold and reached above his head to tug on a tangled corner of sail. When the jumbled mess refused to let loose, he hooked an elbow around a rope, leaned forward at a precarious angle, and pulled a knife from the waistband of his trousers. With the blade between his teeth, he exchanged hands, took the knife in his right, and hacked at the rope.
It broke free to dangle in the wind.
Quicker than a blink, he stood on the deck before the man once more. India released the breath she’d been holding and unclenched fists she hadn’t realized she’d closed. She flushed at her silly worry. After all, Richard’s praise of Cain’s expert skill had drawn her to the myth of Teddy.
Cain backed away from the sailor, his attention focused on the useless rope. He pointed to the frayed end, then swung his arm wide to the opposite side of the sail, as if he instructed the sailor to rethread the entire length. When he dropped his arm, his gaze locked on her.
Even with the distance separating them, India felt the crackle of energy behind his sky-blue stare. The fine hairs along her arms lifted. Her nerves rose in anticipation. Something down deep in her soul slowly turned over.
He’d changed her in ways she had yet to fully comprehend. Still, somehow, she understood when she set foot in England again, she’d never be the same. A part of her would always belong to the pirate Cain.
The same part that would always wonder what it might have been like to sail at his side as his lover.
Her heart twisted against their mismatched fates. Desperate to escape all the conflicting emotion that coursed through her, she fled the deck. She needed solitude to sort through it all. Sturdy walls to bar her from temptation. For as long as she was bound to Richard, she’d never know freedom, and entertaining whimsy would only offer torture.
She hurried along the deck, oblivious to the bodies she passed. Through watery eyes, men blurred into colorful blobs she didn’t dare look at for fear they’d see her tears. She was a prisoner, for heaven’s sake, captive on a pirate ship. Cain intended to kill her intended, and all she could think about was how to create a world where they could be together. What was the matter with her? Had illness erased every last fraction of her sense?
A hand shot out to grab her around the waist. She yipped and pushed at the strong arm.
“Careful, princess, else you’ll trip.”
As the words registered, she looked to her feet and the pail of water inches from her right ankle. “Oh.” She twisted to thank her rescuer.
Drake’s dark grey eyes glinted with wry amusement. He loosened his hold but held onto her elbow until she regained her footing. His mouth curved in a grin. “In a hurry?”
“I, ah…” Warmth infused her face. She what? Had been running away from Cain? On his ship? Straight to his cabin? “My legs are tired. I thought to rest a bit.”
“I see.”
She could tell by Drake’s laughing eyes he didn’t see. He didn’t even believe her. But he possessed the good grace to go along with her lie. Humiliated, India pulled on her arm.
He held tighter. “I’ll walk with you.”
“That’s quite unnecessary. I can find my way.” She nibbled on her lower lip, searching for something, anything, that would free her from the infamous cold-hearted killer. “I don’t want to take you away from more important things.”
Undaunted, Drake took a step forward. “The only important task I have presently is insurin’ the buckets don’t jump out to bite your ankles.”
She couldn’t help herself—she grinned.
“I hear their teeth are quite sharp.”
A contrary laugh bubbled in the back of her throat. “Indeed?”
With a most serious expression Drake answered, “Aye, worse’n a shark’s.” His mouth twitched, and the ruse fell away with a mischievous wink. “Trust me,
you don’t want the cook mendin’ those wounds. Mind you, he’s our surgeon, but his preference is to chop.”
India giggled again.
As Drake escorted her into the private hall that led to Cain’s cabin, he glanced down with a smirk. “You think I jest.”
“No, no,” she vowed in earnest. “I believe you.”
He opened Cain’s door, but when she took a step forward, he pulled her to a halt. She gave him a quizzical lift of her brows.
Drake made to speak, but changed his mind with a frown. The humor behind his gaze faded, and he studied her with far more concern.
“Is something the matter?”
“Has Cain advised you about the crew?”
India blinked. “No.”
“I don’t suppose he would. He wouldn’t want to worry you. But you should know, princess, be wary when you walk on decks. Though every man aboard swore an oath not to raise a hand to you, there’re some who’ve never sailed with us.”
Apprehension stiffened her spine. She looked beyond Drake’s shoulder to the open door they’d come through and the men beyond. “It’s not safe on deck?”
“Oh, it’s safe enough by day. Just be certain you stay in the open where more than one pair of eyes can see you. Agreed?” His genuine smile soothed.
“Yes.”
Drake chuckled, and the amused light to his gaze returned with his blink. “Aye. If you dress like a rover, you should speak like one. Aye.”
“I shall remember that.” She slid her elbow out of his grasp and stepped into the cabin.
He extended his hand. In his open palm lay a sturdy key. “Lock the door if you become concerned.”
As she reached for it, he closed his fingers around the length of iron. One dark eyebrow arched. “Not a word ‘bout my givin’ you the means to lock Cain out of his cabin, aye?”
Bound by Decency Page 10