by Lisa Olech
“How is she?”
Samantha was quick to close her eyes and lay quiet. “Sleeping still, but she’s out of the woods.”
“And sailing smack into the middle of a bloody forest.”
“Shh, you’ll wake her.” James lowered his voice. Samantha strained to hear, “Don’t remind me,” he sighed. “I’ve yet to tell her.”
“You haven’t issued the petition? What are you waiting for?”
“I thought I’d let her regain consciousness first.” A drawer opened.
Samantha heard the sound of glass hitting glass. They were drinking James’s brandy.
“Are you sure that’s all?”
James groaned. “I beg you, I’m in no mood.”
“Have you slept since they moved her in here? I know you haven’t visited the officer’s quarters.”
“Not much. Exhaustion has nothing to do with this, however. For the first time in days, I’ve come to some realizations. I’ve been pacing the decks for hours, and while I might not be able to prevent Tupper Quinn from hanging alongside her crew, I refuse to hang an innocent woman. I finally have all the pieces to the puzzle, and I’m convinced the only thing Samantha Christian is guilty of is being an idealist and believing the lies of some sick bastard in Virginia. The only reason she was on the Scarlet Night was to escape him. She was in a desperate situation, and Tupper Quinn was her way out. Samantha would have followed Tupper into hell to get away.”
Samantha’s stomach pitched. Fear crept along her spine. Tupper and Bump were being taken to their execution. Her neck was in the noose as well, even if James believed her innocence.
“She was an active member of the crew.” The man with James argued his point.
He was right… There was no denying it.
“I’ll borrow Tupper’s lie. Samantha Christian was a hostage. Dragged aboard against her will.”
“She freely signed the Articles. How do you plan on erasing her name?”
“The Articles were lost. Burned in a fire. Blown overboard in a storm.”
“Listen to yourself, James. You’re not talking sense. Without the Articles, the rest of them sail away free. Along with your career, and your future. You’ve worked too hard to achieve the rank of captain and this commission, and you’re ready to throw away the last ten years? Your life is steps away from being golden. Think, man. What about Lillian?”
At the mention of her name, Samantha gave a silent groan. The man was right. It was all too much.
“What about her?” James countered.
“Are you considering her at all?”
“Of course I am. I’m considering telling her she’d be far better off with a man who isn’t in love with someone else.”
Samantha bit her lip to keep from gasping. Did he say—
“Be serious. You don’t love Samantha Christian. You don’t even know her.”
“I do know her. It may not have been for months and years, but each moment I’m with her, I learn a bit more and fall a little bit harder. I know I can’t get her out of my mind, and how I feel when I’m with her, kissing her. How the thought of losing—”
“Hold on. Kissing her? When did this happen?”
“Doesn’t matter, Ducky. I’m telling you, I’m in love with her.”
Samantha’s heart skidded in her chest.
“James, I’m your best mate. I’m also your first lieutenant. Please hear me. You may love her, but all the love in the world isn’t enough to save her.”
The two men were silent for a long moment. Samantha trembled with a flood of battling emotions. James loved her. As the words struck her heart, she knew at once she loved him in return. It made no sense. James’s friend was right. They barely knew one another. But who could explain love? Was there a more unpredictable emotion? It was not something you could choose, or control. It struck… like…lightning.
Samantha wanted to shout for joy and curl into a ball and weep all at the same time. The man, Ducky, was correct on another count. None of this made any difference. She was to be counted amongst the crew of the Scarlet Night. When they landed in London, it would be the end of them. All James’s love and position and influence could not change the outcome, and she wasn’t about to let him ruin the rest of his life by lying for her.
She stifled another moan. Why were the fates so brutally cruel? Why lead her to her true love, only to rip her from him? Why show her heaven, but deliver her to hell?
“I can’t lose her now that I’ve found her.” James’s words echoed the ache in her heart.
The sound of glass meeting glass sounded again. “All I can say is, we’re not in London yet. It may all crash in on you once we arrive, but if you truly love her, then love her well in the time you have.” Ducky’s voice was muffled, as if he spoke into his glass.
“And Lillian?”
“She doesn’t wear your ring yet. You’ve certainly not consummated your relationship, or kissed more than a hand or a powdered cheek. Has she mentioned the word love? No. Your marriage to Lillian is a business negotiation, not a courtship. Until you stand in front of a priest and say, ‘I do,’ you are not legally bound to her. Now, I’m all for fidelity and monogamy after you’re joined. I’m a confirmed cad, but I do have some scruples. But if you still choose a life with her, after this is all over, you can go to her with your eyes open, if not your heart.”
“I won’t lie to her.”
“So don’t lie. Not to Lillian, not to Samantha, and most of all, my good man, not to yourself.”
There was another pause in the men’s conversation. Samantha tucked her chin and brushed away silent tears.
“Any chance we won’t reach London?” James voice carried his exhaustion.
“We could sail into the eye of a hurricane and be lost at sea. Cross paths with the entire Spanish fleet and be blown out of the water. Or perhaps we’ll be caught by a kraken and dragged down into the briny deep.”
“Ah, at last, something to hope for.”
Chapter 19
Ducky left James to his drink and his thoughts. James put the stopper back into the neck of the brandy carafe. Exhaustion hung on him like a heavy, wet cloak. He pulled at the tight cue of his hair, releasing it, and pushed his hands through the strands to hold his aching head.
He didn’t want to think any more. Please, someone shut off his blasted mind. Cease the endless loop of his musings. Let him be blissfully ignorant for an hour or two.
Dragging a deep breath into his lungs, he opened his eyes and surveyed the trappings of his office. Logbooks, navigation charts, arrest petitions… Nay, ignorance for him was not an option. He was captain. There were duties to perform. A ship to run. Three hundred men to command. Three hundred men…and two women.
James pushed the brandy aside, slid the logbooks before him, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Raising the wick of his lantern, he glanced at Samantha, not wanting the light to wake her.
Instead, the warmth of her gaze greeted him.
“Samantha… I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No, I was awake.”
Sitting behind his desk, he felt too far from her. He stood and moved to sit on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?” The urge to touch her was too strong. He ran the back of his finger along her cheek.
“I’m well.” She captured his hand and held his gaze.
“About earlier…after I kissed you. When I left so abruptly…”
“You don’t need to explain.”
“But I do. There’s so much we need to talk about. Things you need to be made aware of.”
“I know,” she whispered.
She looked at him with such trust, it made his stomach twist to have to tell her, but he could not continue to lie to her. Protecting her from the truth wasn’t protecting her any longer. It was only delaying the inevitable. “I pray I find the right words.”
“James…I wasn’t asleep
.” She studied his hand. “I heard you and your friend talking. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…”
“How much did you hear?”
“Everything.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I heard every word.”
“So you know I have no choice. Now that you’re stronger, I can’t put it off. I must formally arrest you.” He squeezed her hand. “When we reach London, I’ll not leave your side. We’ll go directly to my supervisors, tell them your story. They must—”
“You love me.”
The words flooded his chest. “Aye.” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “I would have liked to have said the words to you first, and not to a man named after a blasted water fowl, but yes.”
“Then say them to me now.”
“It makes no sense. A month ago I didn’t know your name, and there couldn’t be a worse time or situation to declare my feelings, but I can’t seem to help them even if I wanted to.”
Samantha put her fingers over his rambling mouth to stop the inane prattle. “Say the words.” She lifted her fingers away from his lips.
“I love you, Samantha. Inexplicably, completely, hopelessly.”
“And I inexplicably, completely, hopelessly love you as well.”
It was as if the sun rose in his chest. “You do?”
“Yes, I do.”
He leaned in close and kissed her, the words still bittersweet on his tongue. She loved him. She rained sweet kisses over his lips, cheeks, and his closed eyes until he pulled her mouth back to his. Holding her face, he slanted his mouth and fully captured hers. Claiming her. Pouring his heart into that single heated kiss.
He rested his forehead on hers. Eyes closed, he brushed the tip of her nose with his. “Good Lord, woman, what do we do now?”
“Stop the clocks? Slow the movement of the sun? Chart a course to London taking a more westerly route?”
He pulled back to look her in the eye. “Don’t joke.”
She stroked his cheek. “Your friend may be named after a mallard, but he made a few good points.”
“Such as?”
“We are not in London yet.”
James shook his head. “But we can’t ignore it.”
“Tonight we can.” She toyed with the neck of his shirt.
“Samantha…” She couldn’t possibly be suggesting what he imagined. Her body was still healing. He pulled away before he forgot himself and hurt her.
She caught his arm. “Lie with me. Sleep in your bed rather than your awful chair. Hold me. Let me hold you. Kiss me good night. That’s all. Your surgeon would never forgive us if we attempted more. Just lie with me.” Samantha gave him a small smile. “We may not have any more time than we have right now. Once we reach London…neither of us can know what’s to come.” She stroked his arm. “I don’t want to waste a single moment.”
She gingerly moved to the far side of the bed to give him room. Offering him the solace of a simple night in her arms to share the intimacy of sleep, to relish every moment they had together. After the days and nights of worry and strain, it sounded like a small bit of heaven wrapped in silk.
“I think a night cradled in your arms sounds like a wonderful idea.” He turned and began pulling off his boots.
Samantha rested a hand on his back. “Could you help me take off your shirt?”
“You don’t need to undress me. I can manage.” He grinned and pulled the shirt from his trousers, then lifted it over his head, casting it aside.
Her hand returned to his back. This time her fingers splayed across his skin, smoothing the muscle, sending tiny ripples of pleasure across his flesh.
“I wasn’t talking about the one you were wearing.”
Heat surged through him. He shot a glance over his shoulder. She shrugged hers. “It’s not as if you haven’t seen me naked before.”
“That was different. You were burning up with fever.” He knew how she’d felt. Any moment now, he was sure to burst into flames.
“I’m still a bit warm.” Her fingertips sparked paths across his skin.
“And you were weak.”
She gave him a small grin. “I’m stronger now.”
He bit back a note of laughter. “I’m not.” What was she trying to do? Drive him mad?
She ran her hands over his shoulder again, following the sweep with her gaze. “I trust you.”
“I don’t. I wouldn’t trust me for a second.” The pulse of his erection was proof of that. Lie with her and not touch her? Find some way to take her without hurting her? She couldn’t know what she was suggesting.
“I want to feel your skin next to mine. That’s all.”
That’s all? “I thought you were offering me rest. It’s sounding more like a test of my resolve. One I’m sure to lose.”
“You’ve misunderstood. I’m not trying to catch you in a web. I’ve never seduced a man before.”
James bit out another short laugh. “You’re doing a fine job of it.”
“Help me get rid of this shirt, and I’ll stop. I’ll say no more and lie beside you quiet as a lamb.”
“There is nothing quiet about naked. Naked is the exact opposite of quiet. In fact, two nakeds together practically scream.”
“You can leave your hat on,” she suggested, blinking up at him with wide innocent eyes.
“And my pants,” he insisted.
“I have no pants,” she whispered against his shoulder.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “You’re getting loud again.”
“Would kissing me make me quiet?”
“No. It would only stop you from talking.”
With great care, he slipped his shirt from her, gathered her close, and stopped her from speaking while his body howled with restrained need.
Samantha wound an arm about his neck, arching into a gentle curve against him. The soft warmth of her breasts pressed into his chest. The satin sensation of her skin on his was almost more than he could bear as her heat penetrated along his entire length.
“Have I mentioned that I love you?”
“Not in the last ten minutes.”
“I’ll order myself keelhauled at first light.” He kissed her lightly again.
“What’s ‘keelhauled?’”
“Well, you take a long length of rope, tie it around a man, toss him overboard, and drag him across the keel of the ship.”
Samantha smoothed a hand over his chest, tracing around the rim of his nipple. “But there are barnacles down there. It sounds painful.”
“Very.” Although at that moment, he could think of something almost as painful. He tried shifting the position of his trapped cock. Any more of this “quiet” discussion and he might split his trousers.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
Very. “I’ll survive.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rest better without your trousers?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re sure you’ve never seduced a man before?”
“Never.”
James kissed her once more. “Then you’re a bloody natural.”
Chapter 20
James strolled along the bustling upper decks of the Lion the next morning no more rested than he’d been before he slipped into bed beside Samantha last night. They’d kissed and whispered in the dark half the night. The other half he spent trying to ignore the pale tipped peaks of her breasts he desperately wanted to taste, or the way her navel dipped into a tiny spiral, or the silken feel of her hair against his shoulder as she slept against him.
“Good morning, Captain.” Stitch met him standing at the bow. The sun already burned bright over the waves. James had only just noticed.
“How long can a man survive without sleep?” Perhaps a better question would be how long could a man walk around with a wooden cock in his breeches.
“About eleven days. Why?”
“Curiosity.” He turned away and began another sweep.
“Have you tried counting sheep?” he suggested.
I’ll lay beside you as quiet as a lamb. “No, but I’ll give it a try.”
“I could give you something to help.”
He shifted the ache in his trousers. “I’ll be fine.”
“How’s the patient?”
Still naked in my bed. “Doing well. I think she’s in a lot less pain.”
“Good. Her stitches can come out soon, then it should be safe for her to resume regular activity. Slowly at first.”
“Slowly?” Lusty images ran through James’s mind…slowly.
“Right,” Stitch continued. “Being impatient and rushing these things is always a great concern.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” He slapped Stitch on the shoulder and checked to make sure his waistcoat covered his impatient erection.
“Could be as early as tomorrow. I’ll stop by your quarters later and check on things.”
“Make sure you knock,” he muttered under his breath.
Ducky fell into step. “What happened to you last night? I thought you were finally going to get some sleep after you finished with the logs.”
“Decided to stretch out somewhere else.”
“Least you got some rest.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Did you get a chance to talk to Samantha?”
No, I was too consumed with keeping her quiet. “Some.”
“Good, good. Speaking of prisoners, I’ve just come from the brig. Tensions are running a bit high down there. I’m not sure what’s happened. They’re quiet, but there’s something in the air, and it isn’t the stench of unwashed bodies. Although there’s one Scotsman…man would make your eyes water.” Ducky ran a finger under his nose. “They’ve made another request for some deck time. Might be a good idea to air them out a bit.”
“Don’t see what harm it would do. Gather enough men to discourage any unruliness.”
“Shackles?”
It was bad enough to see Tupper sitting in a cell. Clapping her in irons seemed unnecessary. None of her men fought their arrests. Hadn’t she mentioned the man, Bump, would be seriously affected by shackles? “Let’s see how it goes without. Just see there are three men to their one. No one takes their eyes off them for a second.”