He wasn’t really sure what she meant and was in too much pain to think about it. “Forget about it. I already have.”
She had been hoping he’d say he wanted to kiss her again as well, but when you’re fishing, sometimes you just catch sea weed.
“We’re finished. I don’t feel anything except normal swelling.”
Daniel folded his arms across his chest when Jaxon appeared on deck with his shirt opened. It had been at least ten minutes since he left them alone, plenty of time to finish what Jaxon had started after the memorial service.
“Do you not care one iota about that maiden’s reputation?” Daniel asked, his hostility apparent.
“What reputation is that?” Jaxon asked coolly as he buttoned his shirt. “Do you think she’s some innocent school girl who needs rescuing?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I think.”
“Stop being naïve. She’s an adult woman, whom, by her own admission, has lived on that ship nearly her whole life. Are you telling me you think she has never had a romance, not even once?” Irritation prickled Jaxon as he thought of Charlie in another man’s arms. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t know her. He’d only kissed her once, but he’d be damned if he stood by and let someone else steal her out from under his nose before he had a chance to get to know her.
“I will give her the benefit of the doubt until she shows me otherwise, brother. You and I should be sharing your cabin and she can have mine.”
Daniel was one of the few people who truly understood Jaxon’s plight so he should understand why Jaxon would pursue a woman who was not repulsed by him. He knew his brother was right. Charlie should be alone in Daniel’s cabin and Daniel could sleep in the forecastle for all he cared, but he couldn’t let her go. Someone else might win her, even his handsome, dimpled cheeked brother.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jaxon yelled. “You’d always be making excuses to get one thing or another so you could visit her.”
“Is that what this is about? You’re jealous! I already told you, I don’t want her. Honestly, I give you my blessings—but only if you treat her the way you would treat a woman back home and right now, you are not being respectful.” Daniel grabbed his brother’s arm. “I am going to hold you accountable for your actions. So, if I were you, I’d tread very carefully.”
Jaxon pulled his arm away and looked out over the railing. “No doubt this is why her ship abandoned her. The crew probably fought these battles daily,” Jaxon said his voice strangely calm. The thought of other men fighting over her soured his mood further. “I don’t know why you’re so worried, Daniel. With a face like mine, willing women are few and far between and I would not bed an unwilling one.”
11
Charlie was sound asleep in the hammock when Jaxon returned. She left the lantern on the desk burning, but had extinguished the other lamps. The soft dim light made her skin glow with a subtle radiance. Dark lashes rested against her cheek. She was beautiful. In his mind, he could not fathom how she could have ever passed for a man. He shook his head and wished there was some way to accept what Daniel believed about her, but he just couldn’t. She was one hundred percent female, how could any red-blooded tar be fooled for long?
Jaxon returned to his work. He needed to update his logs with the events of the day and it had been a long, eventful day. He also needed to write a letter to Aunt Pru. He would tell her in person, but sometimes the family wanted a letter to pass on through the generations. The letter would probably remain unopened placed inside the family Bible until the details of his death became less painful. Only then would someone open it.
He had been writing in his log for about forty-five minutes when the first restless noises came from the hammock. At first he was mildly amused that she talked in her sleep and tried to ignore it. She’d say something indistinguishable then quiet down. Thirty seconds or a minute later, she’d mutter something else equally as distorted. It was nearly impossible for him to concentrate.
Suddenly, she started screaming. He jumped up from his seat and stared at her. A moment later, his door burst open and Daniel ran in, his hands clenched in fists.
“She’s having a nightmare,” Jaxon told him. Seconds later, Arthur and Vinnie appeared at the door as well.
“Maybe you should wake her up,” Daniel suggested.
“Maybe you should all leave. Vinnie wait.”
Jaxon handed the boy the half-eaten plate of food. “Take this to the galley, then make sure anyone on deck who heard her, knows it was only a nightmare.” Jaxon pushed everyone out and locked the door.
Charlie was mostly just whimpering now. Her face was tear-stained, but she still slept.
He reached up to stop a tear’s progress. She woke up with a start, disoriented and obviously frightened to see him standing so close. Charlie forced her eyes to stay open, resisting the blinking urge the light caused.
“You were having a nightmare,” he said quietly. He could tell in that moment the dream rushed back to her.
She ran her hands over her face and was surprised to find wetness. “I-I haven’t had that one in a while.” She threw her feet out of the hammock, stood up and cast an accusing look at it, as if the hammock had caused the dream.
Jaxon could tell she was shaken to her core. She looked so vulnerable he just wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until the tough little firebrand returned. Criminy! What this woman did to his senses, “Can I get you some water?”
“Do you have anything stronger?”
“No,” he chuckled.
“Water would be fine.”
She paced the floor while he poured her a glass of water, blowing the breath out of her mouth and shaking her hands in the air as if she could shake the tension from her limbs.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked handing her the water.
“It was a dream. What is there to talk about?” She threw back the water like a man in a summer desert then set the glass down. When he didn’t say anything, she knew he wasn’t going to let her dismiss it that quickly. She pointed at her scarred arm. “Child. Fire. Nightmares. It’s as simple as that.”
“And you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Do you want to talk about whatever happened to you?” she lashed out gesturing toward the scar on his face he was so sensitive about.
His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t change the subject. You didn’t mind discussing the fire earlier. You’re hiding something.” His gaze was locked on hers as he tried to figure it out. His eyes narrowed and his brows lowered. She had told him she was only five years old when she was burned. It must have been traumatic to suffer such a large burn at that age, but surely it didn’t pain her still. So why…? “Oh.” He knew her secret. “You started the fire.”
At her sharp intake of breath, he knew he’d hit the mark. He watched as her eyes filled with tears she blinked back, unwilling to let herself cry.
“That’s a pretty nasty scar. I bet you never played with flint after that.”
Charlie turned her head away and looked at the floor. For once she couldn’t meet his gaze. She had no desire to correct him. “No, I never did.”
“So your mother shipped you off with your father because you were too much to handle. Damn, what did you do, burn down the whole house?”
Charlie’s head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise.
“You burned down your house? I can see why your mother shipped you off.”
“My-my mother didn’t ship me off. She died when I was little. My father came home from sea, found the house burned down and took me with him.”
This man did not need to know all the details. If it wasn’t for the way she involuntarily reacted when he guessed she’d been responsible for the fire, she would not have told him anything at all. But she needed his protection and didn’t want to do anything that jeopardized her fragile position.
“I bet next time you’ll be more careful with whom you share your cabin.�
�
She wished she could leave. He just kept looking at her.
“That’s a great deal of guilt for a little child to carry around—that’s a lot of guilt for anyone,” he said after a minute. “And what did your father say?”
“He never knew I was responsible. I-I never told him.” A single missish tear fell over her lash. Angrily, she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “He wasn’t the sort of man who one approached for a conversation. It’s too late now. As I told you earlier, he was killed this morning when the warship fired on us. He covered my body with his and was hit with grapeshot that might have hit me instead.”
Jaxon was taken aback. What kind of relationship did she have with her father if he wasn’t someone she could have a conversation with? “He must have loved you a great deal to protect you like that.”
All Charlie could think of was how he had told her he was disappointed with her after her last brawl. “He wouldn’t have if he knew my part in the fire,” she said softly.
“You don’t know much about parents.”
“I wasn’t going to take the chance.” During the months that followed the fire while she had lived in the orphanage, she understood then how truly alone in this world she would be without her father. That terrifying feeling was back. She might be an adult, but she knew so little of the world. Her life aboard the Arcadia had been safe and predictable. Now those old misgivings crept back to the forefront of her mind.
“So, you’re having nightmares about the fire the night your father died. Do you think you’re having them because your father went to his grave not knowing or because he’s in heaven now and he knows everything?”
“You give too much meaning to tonight’s nightmare, Captain Bloodworthy. Tis just one more time for me to have that dream. I have dreamt about that fire hundreds of times before. Maybe it was because I showed you my scar earlier. Maybe sleeping in the hammock in an unfamiliar place reminded me of my first night on our ship. Perhaps I dreamt it, because I haven’t dreamt about it in a few weeks and the time had come to dream it again.”
He remembered the way she jumped out of the hammock and the expression on her face and he knew she had told him what she really thought had brought on the dream.
“Take my bunk. I’ll sleep in the hammock, just in case that’s the reason.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I’m not going to take your bunk.”
Jaxon wondered just how stubborn Charlie was. Her toughness, her inability to allow herself to be vulnerable was both appealing and frustrating. He thought about what she said about using an opponent’s size against him and knew he had to use her strength against her.
“I understand,” he said stepping towards her. “You’re afraid. I mean, that bunk is big enough for two, and you’re afraid if you slept there, I might climb in bed with you.”
“I’m not afraid of you or that bunk,” she said bowing up.
You should be, he thought with a grin.
“You’re all mouth, little girl.”
Charlie didn’t know which was more insulting; being told she was all mouth or being called a little girl.
“Indeed.” Charlie padded over to the bunk and climbed in. She moved towards to wall. “I’ll leave you room,” she said challengingly, and turned her back to him.
A charge of excitement shot through her at her daring, but knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink until Jaxon was sound asleep in the hammock. Criminy! What if he actually got into the bunk with her!
“Go to sleep, Charlie. I’ve got more work to do before I turn in.”
Jaxon chuckled out loud and wondered if she would always be so easy to manipulate. Her strength was her weakness.
Jaxon stayed in the hammock less than fifteen minutes before he decided he had no chance of actually sleeping in it. Silently, he padded in his uneven steps across the room to his bunk and slipped under the covers beside her. With trepidation, he wrapped his arm around her waist. It was better she discovered he’s there now while he’s awake than in the middle of the night when his brain was sleep-muddled.
“Couldn’t sleep in the hammock?” she asked quietly. Her words were spoken lethargically as though she were on the verge of sleep.
“You were having another nightmare.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” she informed him. “I really don’t mind sleeping in the hammock.” She lifted up as if to get up, but he held her in place.
“I really don’t mind sharing the bunk if you don’t.”
“I’m not going to be your mistress,” she said turning her head towards him.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
Charlie turned back to the wall and closed her eyes. She had heard stories of unmarried men and women sharing a bed, but usually the man was sewn into the sheet. Of course, all the stories sailors told included how the girl cut him out in the middle of the night and sewed him back up before her parents came in the next morning, or how the girl was so ugly, she was never in any danger to begin with. She knew she shouldn’t be there with him, but other than having his arm at her waist he didn’t seem to be threatening her in any way. Besides, he was injured and she could protect herself.
“Is the door locked?” she asked after a minute or two.
He wondered why she asked that question. Was she worried that she might need to yell for help or was she worried that someone might catch them in bed together?
“Aye.”
“Do you have enough room?”
“Scoot over a bit.”
Which way? she wanted to ask, but moved closer to the wall.
“You didn’t bring the other pillow?”
“I didn’t really think I’d be here long,” he answered honestly.
She chuckled. “Here take this one. I’ll use your arm, if that’s all right.” When she moved her head to his arm, she realized he wore no shirt. “You’re not naked are you?”
For the first time a touch of alarm raised the timbre of her voice and he felt her body tense.
“No,” he chuckled.
Her rapid breaths slowly calmed, and she realized he had indeed climbed into bed to sleep. “You’re warm,” she said a minute later, her voice relaxed and drowsy sounding again.
“Are you cold?”
“A little.” She turned towards him, placing an icy hand on his chest. The imperfection of a scar lay under her fingers and she lightly traced the line with her fingertips.
His hand halted hers. “Tis a dangerous game you play at, Charlie. You say one thing, but you do another. Would you have me bed you or do you merely tease to find my breaking point. Must you test my resolve to not take you?”
She withdrew her hand. “I did not mean to challenge you, Captain. I.…” She hesitated. “I admit a curiosity has taken ‘hold of my judgment. I do not know the proper way a land girl does these things.”
“Get up!” he ordered abruptly, freeing himself of the covers and getting to his feet.
She scrambled out of the bunk only to have him grab her by the hand. His grip was unrelenting as he moved toward the door only pausing briefly to unlock it and turn the knob. Seconds later, he was in the narrow corridor pounding on another door.
Daniel was still securing his pants when he opened it.
“Out!” Jaxon ordered.
Daniel nearly tripped entering the passageway. “You, in,” he ordered Charlie. “Lock it and go to bed.”
He turned on his heel. “You get the hammock,” he said to Daniel.
12
Charlie wished she could completely avoid Jaxon after the previous night’s humiliation. It wasn’t embarrassing enough that he had not only kicked her out of his bunk, but out of his quarters as well, and now she was going to have to walk the passageway in broad daylight to his quarters, dressed only in his nightshirt to get her clothing. She had been up most of the night. Her body was so accustomed to sleeping in four-hour shifts that sleeping through the night had been impossible. When she finally decided she couldn’t hide
anymore, she poked her head out to see if the hallway was clear and felt relieved to see her clothing folded neatly in front of the door sitting next to a ewer of fresh water.
Within twenty minutes, she was ready to face the world. Well, the world minus one. She didn’t know how she could face Jaxon. She didn’t even know what she had done wrong exactly, except for the second time, she had tried to show him she had feelings for him, and for the second time, he had rejected her.
She cursed her upbringing. Surely, if she had lived on land, she would have seen how one goes about letting their feelings be known. He must think she was a trollop. She didn’t know why she couldn’t control herself around him.
This must be the way Morty felt when she rejected him.
She waited until she heard Daniel go into Jaxon’s quarters before she could get her nerve up. With Daniel there, she felt confident she could go in, check the wound and leave. Jaxon would no doubt be glad for the buffer.
She stood at the open door until Jaxon noticed her there. “I’ve come to check your injury,” she said with forced cheerfulness.
Jaxon turned to Daniel. “This would be a good time to get your things out of your cabin since Charlie had finally emerged. Close the door on your way out,” Jaxon said, his voice gruff with irritation.
So much for not being alone, she thought.
Daniel reached behind him for the door as he left, but locked eyes with his brother before intentionally leaving it fully ajar.
Jaxon crossed the room and shut the door. “I’m just going to lock it to aggravate him.”
He untucked his shirt, unbuttoned it, and then completely removed it, tossing it on the bunk.
Did he not know how the sight of his muscled chest and stomach affected her?
She forced herself to focus purely on his wound. She wasn’t going to look at his bare torso and the way his skin clung so tautly to his muscles. His scars would hold no interest—their secrets, no intrigue.
Charlie hunkered down on her haunches to get a close-up look. It was a little redder than she expected. Tentatively, she reached out and touched it. His skin radiated heat. Her expression did little to hide her worry.
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