by Sable Grey
* * * *
As the day eased into shadow, the sea became restless. Thunder rumbled around her as Rafferty turned her head against another wave that leapt over the railing and across the deck. She was soaked to the bone, and she had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her entire body ached from the pelting she received from the squall, and she was certain that it was determined to pound her to death.
She turned her head again as another wall of water crashed upon her. This time, she wasn't quick enough, and caught a mouthful. Sputtering, she drew a ragged breath, fighting against the ache that burned in her shoulders.
She tried to wriggle her fingers, but she couldn't feel them due to the cold and the constant pain from her chafed wrists. The saltwater and chill brought a harder sting to the wounds she'd already given herself trying to escape.
Another mouthful of water had her resting her head against the wet mast wood. She closed her eyes. This was it. She was going to drown.
"Fight me, and I shall leave you out here to die.” A low voice found her, but she didn't bother opening her eyes. It was the voice of the devil. She'd heard the stories of the devils and serpents of the ocean waters, climbing from the eye of a squall to devour the souls of seamen.
Rafferty felt the ropes that held her wrist loosen and then fall away, but she was too weakened to offer any kind of fight. Strong arms slipped beneath her, lifting her against a chest that offered more warmth than the hottest hellfire. She turned into the warmth without caring that in doing so she might be damning her soul.
Merrick used his body to shield the woman from the weather as he moved quickly below the deck. She was clinging to him, her shivering body pleading heat from his. He cursed himself silently for leaving her in the storm for so long.
"So c ... cold,” she whispered against his shoulder.
"You shall be warm soon enough.” He pushed open the door of his cabin with the toe of his boot, closed it behind them with his heel, and strode across the small room to his bunk. He started to lower her, but her grip tightened, refusing to release him.
"No. You are ... warm,” she murmured, finally opening her eyes to look up at him. Whatever fight she had left in her before had been weakened by the storm. He set her on her feet, slipping one arm beneath hers in case she was too weak to stand. She did not move from him, pressing her body against his side. He leaned down and pulled the blankets aside.
"If I do not warm you, you will become ill,” he explained, but she had closed her eyes again and swayed against him. Merrick pressed his lips together. She probably didn't even know what he was saying. Carefully, he removed her coat and tossed it behind him on the floor. Then he peeled away her blouse, his frown deepening when he felt her skin, like ice, beneath his fingers.
Quickly, he continued to undress her until she was completely unclothed. She pressed closer, but he lifted her and placed her in the bed. She moaned a protest. Merrick, however, moved away before she could reach for him. He pulled the heavy blankets over her, and still she shivered.
When her teeth chattered, he murmured a curse and removed his own coat and shirt before slipping beneath the blankets beside her. She instantly rolled towards his heat, snuggling closer when he draped an arm over her. Merrick felt himself harden in response to her touch and he stared at the wood ceiling above him. He was in for a long night.
* * * *
Merrick straightened in the chair, glanced at the sun shining through his small window, and twisted his back, but it did little to relieve him of the tension that had begun to stiffen around his spine. He glanced behind him to the bed where Rafferty continued to sleep. Her fever had finally broken earlier that morning and released her to peaceful slumber.
Tearing his gaze back to log he'd been writing, he tried to push her from his thoughts. Still, his mind continued to wander back to the scar across her collarbone. He wondered how she had come by it.
Her skin had been without imperfection except for that thin line that seemed to divide mind from sin. He hadn't really noticed her body when he undressed her but had somehow stored her image in his brain for later inspection. Now, eyes closed, he could see her as clearly as if she stood before him.
Ripened breasts, the curved swell of her hips, a dark triangle of thick hair. Merrick took a long breath but his mind did not still. Instead, he remembered how she felt against him, soft and inviting. Also quite capable of slipping a dagger into his ribs, common sense finally reminded him, causing his lips to curl. She was a wild devil in the body of an angel.
The sound of her stirring pulled Merrick from his thoughts, and he turned to find her sitting up in bed. “You are awake.” His words brought her eyes swinging in his direction before they widened. She needed not to speak for him to understand what she surmised had happened, and before he could set her straight, she was scrambling from the bed and leaping towards him, teeth bared. As he rose from his chair, she struck out at him. He quickly caught her wrists, and turned her around. Her back pressed against him; he held her so she was unable to move.
"Stop,” he ordered and dodged the back of her head as she tried to slam it into him. “Stop. It is not as you think.” His arm tightened around her chest as she kicked backwards into his shin. They tightened still more, when she continued to fight until she struggled to breathe.
"Be still. I do not want to hurt you,” he warned as her efforts lessened. Merrick waited until she ceased fighting all together before letting his arms loosen around her. “I could have left you in the storm to die."
"So you took pity and dragged me to your bed?” Although, Rafferty's body may have lost its venom, her voice had not. Slowly he turned her to face him again, his fingers still clasped around her wrist.
"You were ill and needed warmth.” He took a step back and finally released her. “I did not do what you accuse.” The moment his fingers fell from her skin, she lunged, nearly knocking him to the floor, while she drove her fist into his stomach.
"You are a lying bastard pig, and I shall gut you from nose to navel!” she yelled, but the look in Merrick's eyes when he straightened caused her to step back.
"I have no reason to lie, for this is my ship, and if I want something I take it. Strike me again, as if you are a man, and I shall treat you like one,” he said with a growl. He took one stride forward, grasped her by the arm and pushed her roughly towards the bed. “Cover yourself before I reconsider my actions and have you thrown overboard.” Rafferty stared at him as he turned his back to her, his hands clenched at his sides.
"I'll do nothing you order me to do.” She lifted her chin. “You burned my ship, and for that, I shall not rest until it is your body that floats beside this damnable vessel.” Slowly he turned, and she readied for him, her eyes darkening with anticipation.
His eyes lowered to her naked body. “And you killed two of my men. I believe we are squared,” he said after a moment. “Do as I command."
She sneered. “Or what? You haven't it in you to strike me. You believe me foolish enough to think you capable of more?"
Merrick stared at her evenly. Clever girl. “Or I will not protect you from the rest of my crew.” He lowered himself into his chair and picked up his quill. “Do as you will, but it will be without my protection. These men have been without a woman for months. You may be able to fight your way through two or three of them, but they are hungry men."
Rafferty frowned at the back of his head as he bent over the ledger. Her gaze darted around the room for anything to throw at the man. Finally, she let out a shout of frustration and reached for her clothes.
Merrick smiled without looking back at her. He listened to the rustle of her clothes as she dressed. When the room grew silent again, he fought the urge to look back at her. He knew she was glaring at him, could feel the intensity of her gaze.
"You have been charged with piracy and the murder of Joseph Gray. The murders of men Neil and Fuller will be added to those charges.” Merrick hesitated, and then turned in the
chair when she made a sound of disbelief. “You deny these charges?"
Rafferty pressed her lips. It would do no good to tell him the truth. She'd learned early enough that men did not listen to the words of women. Merrick Cole was merciless and dangerous, despite his attempts to keep from striking her. He was no different than others.
She thought of Joseph Gray, considered a fine gentleman of the Derbyshire Grays. He'd stood no taller than Rafferty, appearing he might bust from the seams of his wealthy garb. He'd been an ugly man with a bulbous red nose that made Rafferty's insides boil.
She'd gone to deliver his gold when he provided her with the ship she wanted. At the last minute, he'd decided that the gold wasn't enough. It had taken her by surprise. Gray was a cowardly man, who'd seemed nervous just doing business with her. She'd felt him leering at her but had ignored his flirting, until she had the bill of sale in her hand. Once the deal was settled, Gray made her another proposition—she would have sex with him and he would not send for his cousin, John Thornton, and turn her over to his officials.
She'd laughed without thinking. Moments, later he lunged at her, knocking her to the ground with his heavy body. He'd received a hole between the eyes with his own revolver seconds after he'd crawled atop her with intentions of forcing himself into her.
Merrick waited a moment for her to answer. “John Thornton has ordered me to return you to London where you will be hung for your crimes."
"Why not just hang me where you found me?"
"Because Thornton made it clear he wanted you brought to him."
"And do you always do what you are told?” She saw him visibly stiffen and smiled. “You are Thornton's bastard dog to do his every bidding?"
"Tread lightly,” Merrick warned.
"I have no reason to do as you tell me if you are to deliver me to your Thornton.” She shrugged, eyes still locked onto his face. “I've seen your kind before, scrambling beneath someone else's rule with pathetic hopes that you will be granted extra gold for your obedience. How much reward will you receive for my capture?"
Merrick knew she was attempting to goad him into another fight, to weaken him with anger. Still, her words struck his pride. He watched her sit on the bed, cross a leg over her knee, and lean forward on her elbows. Her gaze slid over him and she purposely allowed a scowl of disgust to pull her lips.
"No spine. No will of your own. Only that of John Thornton.” Her words were low and aimed at the heart of who he was. She was like a jewel-handled dagger slicing at the fibers of his honor.
"I suppose a life of thievery, murder, and piracy holds more honor?” Merrick raised a brow, attempting to stifle his wounded ego. Rafferty snorted lightly in response.
"Yes, I killed the bastard. And yes, I take the things I want. At least it is a life I choose and not bid unto me by someone else. I think for myself and do as I please. I live by my own rule and no one else's. I am not someone's dog to do his every command.” She shook her head. “I do not envy your short lived, meaningless existence. I despise it."
"You are only a child and do not know of what you speak,” he said, but his voice was tight.
"And you deliver children to a devil because he bids it of you,” she quipped, a smug smile of satisfaction on her face when his eyes darkened. “A devil's hound, owned and ruled, yelping as commanded, preying on those weaker than you so that you might savor one small portion of power until you relinquish it back to your master. That's not the life of a man, but one of a slave."
"Be silent,” Merrick gritted, wanting to strike her in the face, and feeling defeated that a woman could cut into him so easily. He rose and strode from the cabin, slamming the door behind him. He ground his teeth as he heard her laugh from the other side.
Chapter 3
"Break silence and I will belt you across the mouth,” Merrick warned as he entered his cabin, without waiting for Rafferty to speak.
To his surprise, she obeyed, and remained lying on the bunk. She closed her eyes. He let a slow breath of relief escape his lips. He'd prepared himself to follow through with the threat if she pushed him, but was thankful it had not come to that. He closed the door and headed towards his desk.
After he wrote the entry for his daily log, he rose and faced Rafferty Jones. Her breathing was shallow and steady. He neared the bunk and stared down at her. Deep in slumber, she was as feminine as any woman he'd met. Soft features, skin that called for him to touch, and full lips that waited for a kiss. Suddenly, as if sensing him standing there, her lids opened, and the gentleness he'd been observing fled to make room for suspicion and hard, glittering contempt.
"Give me your hands,” he commanded in a low voice, producing a rope from the pocket of his coat. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.
"I will not."
"Do not make this difficult. Give me your hands, or I will be forced to do this roughly.” He waited. “I do not want to hurt you, Rafferty Jones, but I will if you give me no other choice."
Rafferty growled a curse and thrust her arms forward. Merrick quickly tied her wrists together, and then secured the other end through a metal loop that stuck out from the wall. It was where he usually kept his pistol, but he'd removed and hid his weapons the night before when she was ill.
"I could still smother you in your sleep,” she snapped when he started to remove his coat. He sat down on the bunk and bent down to take off his boots, ignoring her angry threat. Without removing any more clothes, he blew out the lantern that hung next to the bed, and stretched out beside her.
"Don't you dare touch me,” she whispered with vehemence into the darkness. Merrick ground his teeth. She would have to be put in her place if he did not wish to lose his ship. He rolled towards her, his hand finding her breast quickly.
"Any command you had went down with your ship. This is my ship, Rafferty Jones. I will touch whatever I want, whenever I want."
"I will fight you if you attempt to rape me. You just ask Joseph Gray what happens to men who think to use me.” Her voice was filled with venom, and, for that, Merrick had to give her credit. She did not cry out or whimper with fear.
He frowned. “Joseph Gray raped you?” Many might try to argue that Rafferty Jones was the kind of woman that brought rape on herself. However, Merrick did not believe as most did, and considered the forcing of sex on a woman disgusting and without honor.
"He tried to.” Rafferty's eyes glittered angrily in the darkness at him. “Gray was a pig who thought he could take what he wished. I made certain he was disappointed by blowing a hole between his eyes with his own gun.” Her voice did not waver and Merrick did not like what she was saying. Thornton had told him she had stolen from the man and then killed him when he had confronted her. Thornton had lied to him. Rafferty was too angry for this to be a falsehood.
His thoughts scattered when he felt the nipple beneath his hand harden and press up against his palm through the fabric of her shirt. “I shall do what I please.” He moved his hand slightly, and deliberately ran his thumb over the hardened peak. “And you will do as I command you. Not the other way around."
Rafferty licked her lips, hating the fire that suddenly burned beneath his touch. When he moved his thumb again, she fought the urge to arch against his hand. The reaction surprised her. Merrick Cole was not the kind of man she often sought sexual satisfaction from. She liked them younger, less experienced, and easier to manipulate. Cole was none of those.
He was stalwart stone, fierce, and merciless, Rafferty thought, except that he had offered her warmth when she was chilled. And he hadn't belted her as he'd threatened. Even now, when he could easily take advantage of her, he only rested one hand upon her body to intimidate her; a warm hand that brought fire in her belly and excitement into her veins.
Rafferty swallowed, waiting. When she did not argue, he leaned back away from her, let his hand slide away from her body, and settled onto the bunk. He didn't remove his clothes, she realized.
"If I am misused, you will be dea
d by morning."
Merrick wanted to strike her. “You had your chance to kill me, Rafferty Jones, and you missed it."
"Just do not forget that I did warn you.” She rolled over so that her back faced him, crossing her tied arms above her. “Then you can blame no one but yourself.” Merrick lay in the darkness frowning. Joseph Gray had tried to rape her. She had every right to grow claws if threatened again. Most women would have broken. Rafferty, on the other hand, stood in defiance, digging her heels into hell and dousing the flames that licked at her. She was like a hard diamond that would not be destroyed.
A diamond with glittering emerald eyes and a body that had responded to his touch, even when he'd used it as a threat. “Hell.” Merrick did not mean to speak aloud. The word seemed to echo in the darkness, bouncing back at him. Rafferty shifted beside him, rolling onto her back again.
"I do not suppose you would release me if I put an end to it?"
Merrick very nearly laughed. “Bargaining? Next shall come begging. That is the natural order, I believe.” He wouldn't tell her that he was close to giving her what she wanted. “You think I am as desperate as Gray?"
"No, but the ocean blows a lonely wind.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice, and his gaze turned to the shadow beside him.
"I do not barter for sex,” he told her firmly. Not yet anyway.
"I wouldn't mind,” Rafferty baited. “As long as you do as I like.” Merrick felt his blood grow warm but did not move. She was deliberately trying to tempt him.
"It is my ship and I do as I like."
"Like Gray.” Her words knifed into him, twisted.
"You will not be released."
Rafferty sighed heavily. “And you will not be appeased.” She yawned loudly. “Do not wake me later because you've changed your mind. The offer does not stand after the hour."