by Lora Thomas
The other options were continuing to work at Red’s Tavern, which Max deplored, or join a crew. So Max took the latter option and joined the crew of The Judgment, which just happened to be pirates.
During his five years with the crew, he had numerous exploits. He began as the powder monkey, carrying gunpowder from the powder room to the cannons. His speed and small stature made him ideal for the job. During this time, he learned all there was to know about artillery and operations of the cannons. But he hit a growth spurt and grew and grew and grew. When his height made it a disadvantage to dodge the bullets shot towards the ship, he was made the gunner thanks to his knowledge and expert skill of cannon operations and the fact that the previous gunner was killed during battle. He had higher ambitions though and soon challenged the bos’n for the rank. He lost the fight with the bos’n by going easy and controlling his temper in fear of retribution from the captain. But he learned a valuable lesson from that outcome … weakness is not tolerated or rewarded on a pirate ship. For his rebellion and weakness he received ten lashes—thankfully with a standard whip and not with the cat o’ nine.
Whenever his ship docked near Governor’s Harbour he would always find an opportunity to visit Alex. Alex would always try to get him to stay, but Max refused. He had lived there his entire life, a life that he hated. He only stayed because of Sybil. Granted, she treated him worse than most treated their slaves, but she still was his mother.
One day the captain of The Judgment felt like having a little fun and decided to attack what he thought was an unarmed merchant vessel. But he was sorely mistaken. It happened to be The Armada, one of the British Navy’s heavily armed vessels. The new commander disguised the man ‘o war as a Dutch trading ship in an attempt to lure in pirates—and it worked. It was a fierce battle. Max boarded The Armada with his fellow pirates. As he turned to face his next opponent, he was taken aback to find it was Alex.
“Max?” Alex questioned with surprise.
“What the hell?” Max stared at his long time friend with disbelief, not believing that his friend had joined the navy.
Alex raised his sword and took a half-hearted swing at Max. Max blocked his friend’s blow easily as shock crossed his face.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Max asked in a cold indignant tone as he engaged Alex.
“What?” Alex replied in surprise as he blocked Max’s powerful blow. Then he realized what his actions might appear like to Max. “No! Just keeping up the appearance.”
Alex backed up against Max’s fierce swings. He saw the hurt in his friend’s eyes, but he kept up the appearance of attacking, all the while backing down into the hull of the ship. Once out of sight of the others, Alex dropped his sword at Max’s feet. Max glared at him suspiciously.
“Pick it up, Nicholas. I will not kill an unarmed man, but I will not surrender to go to the gallows.”
Alex slowly shook his head. “I had to get you down here, Max,” he said as mischievousness came to his eyes.
Max lowered his sword and realized they were below deck, away from the chaos of the battle. “Why?”
Alex took a step towards his friend but stopped. “The Judgment’s finished. I saw the hole in her hull myself before you boarded. The crew will be captured and hanged for their crimes. When I saw you as you crossed, I knew I couldn’t let them hang you.”
“Why?”
“Because … my mother would never forgive me if she knew I let them hang you,” Alex awkwardly replied, to avoid admitting that he couldn’t see his best friend hang from the gallows.
“So what’s your plan?” Max replied, realizing that Alex was planning on helping him.
Alex quickly looked around the hull. “Wait here,” he said and he disappeared out the door. Cautiously, he approached the deck and found a slain member of the crew. He hefted the man up to give the appearance of rendering aid to his fallen comrade and dragged the body below deck. Once below deck, he dropped the man’s body at Max’s feet and began removing the sailor’s clothing.
“What are you up to?” Max questioned as he watched Alex.
“Your disguise?”
“What?”
“Take off your clothes. You are now a crew member of The Armada.”
“You’re insane.”
Alex tossed the clothing at Max. “Here, put these on.”
Max eyed the clothing suspiciously. “You don’t think the captain might find it suspicious that he has a new crew member?’
“Relax, my friend. The Armada has a newly appointed captain. He’s out to make a name for himself, so he pays no heed to whom or how many crew members he has, as long as they can fight … clean or dirty.”
“So who would be so ignorant as to not know their own crew?”
“Why, none other than Andrew McClain.”
Max drew his brow together. “This just might work.” He looked at Alex. A sober expression crossed his face. “Most of the crew on The Judgment are good men. Most are like me, just ran into some hard times.”
Alex nodded his understanding. If Max said they were good men, so be it. “Don’t worry. I may have a little influence in that department, being the son of the Governor and all.”
Max’s thoughts came back to the present as Alex smacked him on his back. “Little old to be woolgathering, aren’t you, Max? Pining for your lovely little furry friend in the jungle?”
Max turned and glared at his friend, “Actually, I thought about just leaving you here so I wouldn’t have to put up with your mockery this trip.”
Alex roared with laughter, “Now who would tolerate you as captain? I believe everyone on here would jump ship before they would allow you to lead them.” But both men knew that wasn’t true. Max might be many things, but he was a good leader, although a little on the violent side. All the crew respected Max and would as gladly follow him as they did Alex. “Are we ready to sail, Mr. Hart?”
Max nodded his head to Alex’s question.
“Good. Give the orders.”
“Weigh anchor!” Max bellowed, his deep voice carrying to the crew.
A resounding “Aye, aye, sir” could be heard echoing throughout the ship as The Abyss lurched forward leaving Tortuga. Once clear of the busy docking area, the remaining gray sails were dropped and the ship moved quickly into the warm waters of the Caribbean.
Max remained topside helping the crew for the remainder of the day. He took the helm so Alex could go to his quarters to work on the shipping documents for Emerald Shipping. Turning his face skyward, he soaked in the sun’s warm rays for several minutes enjoying the feel and smell of the sea.
Smitty approached Max as the sun began its downward decline. “I’ll take her now.”
Max nodded his head at the gunner. “Keep our current heading. We’re making good time. At this rate we’ll be in Nassau before the end of the week.”
Smitty nodded his acknowledgement as Max took his leave.
Max made a quick stop at the galley. He wrapped several cold mini biscuits and a wedge of cheese in a cloth and headed to his quarters. Once at the door to his room, he took one of the biscuits, popped it in his mouth, and opened the door.
Max’s quarters were dark. The lamp’s fuse had burned itself short hours ago, which extinguished the flame. He left the door open as he placed his meal down on the small table at the door. Turning the knob on the lantern, he extended the wick. He quickly lit the lamp and closed the door. He had removed his coat earlier in the day so he was wearing only his dark trousers, black shirt and a wide belt with his weapons. Taking off his belt, he tossed it onto the bed. He didn’t notice the unusually large lump. He never made his bed, so the lump in the middle he put off as being just the bunched up quilts he used for occasional warmth.
Picking up his supper, he walked to the dresser. He laid the mini biscuits on the dresser and took off his shirt and tossed it in the corner. He poured some water out of the pitcher, left from this morning, into the washbasin and splashed the cool water onto
his beard. He looked up in the mirror at his reflection. Rubbing the whiskers on the side of his face, he let out a sigh. His brows drew together when he noticed the quilt move.
Kristina awoke and began to wonder what time it was. The lamp had gone out long ago, but she could tell they were far out to sea by the sway of the ship. She gave a small stretch and sighed. It had been ages since she had slept that well. She figured it was the sway of the ship combined with the stress of the past few weeks that made her sleep so long.
As she lay there, she heard the doorknob rattle. She quickly grabbed the covers and pulled them on top of her head. As she peered from under the covers, she could see the light from the hall entering the room. The door remained open for several minutes, giving her hope that whoever opened the door, did so by accident. A soft creak was heard. She could smell the faint scent of sulfur from a match and hear the door as it closed. Holding her breath, she hoped the person had left. But as she lay there, her heart sank. She could hear someone walking around the room. Panic began to set in as she felt something land on top of her. The footsteps crossed the room. She could hear water being poured.
Lay very still, she mentally told herself as she attempted to lay motionless under the heavy quilts. The more she willed herself to keep still, the more her body screamed to move and then her leg began to itch. She fought the desire to scratch, but suddenly her leg gave a small jerk as the itch intensified. The movement of her leg caused the objects on top of her to slide off her, and she could see the hilt of a sword.
Kristina could hear the footsteps approaching the bed and she panicked. She grabbed the the sword and quickly stood up in the bed, pointing its tip towards the occupant of the room. As she stood, the bottom of her borrowed shirt caught under her foot and brought the side of it down to her left elbow. She gained her bearing quickly and pointed the tip of the sword at the occupant’s chest once again. Her brown eyes widened as she realized she was pointing the sword at the man she intended to marry.
Max viewed the defensive beauty before him. Never in his life had he seen a more desirable sight. She stood there proudly, defiantly. Her oval face was surrounded by soft wavy black hair. Her long raven locks were down her back in soft waves. She was breathing rapidly causing her nostrils to flare. Her mouth parted bringing his attention to her full red lips. He noticed she was wearing one of his shirts. It engulfed her like she was a small child, but he could see from the curve of her breast protruding from the neckline of his shirt that she was anything but. This feisty creature in front of him was all woman. His eyes traveled back up her body and locked with hers. He could see the passion she possessed in her chocolate eyes. A wolfish-grin crossed his face.
“Well, well. What do we have here? Did Alex decide to make up for all his teasing about the monkey? He shouldn’t have really.” His eyes hungrily traveled the length of her body. “But I will not refuse this lovely little peace offering he has bestowed upon me. That would be rude you know.”
Kristina’s eyes grew wide as she realized what this handsome man was insinuating. He thought she was a prostitute! Bought for his pleasure! How dare he? This was the man she thought she wanted to marry!
“Why you no good, lowlife, whoring, bastard!” She shouted at him, not realizing he did not understand a word of her Spanish insults. “If you think for one minute that—”
Her rampage was interrupted by the door being pushed open. She glared out of the corner of her eyes at the blond-haired man. He was with this man at the tavern yesterday. She should have known they were shipmates.
A deep, throaty chuckle came from the blond-haired man. He was laughing so hard he had to hold onto the doorframe to keep from doubling over.
“What the hell are you laughing at, Alex?” she heard the black-haired man snap.
“This is rich!” Alex hooted again. “Never in all my days would I have dreamed that you, of all people, would bring a woman on board my ship, especially without asking first.”
“You mean you didn’t put her in here?”
“Now why in the hell would I do something as foolhardy as bring a woman on board a pirate ship?” Alex replied as he observed Max. “And put your hands down, Max, you look ridiculous standing there like you’re surrendering.”
A sheepish look came across Max’s face. “Yeah, I know,” he replied as he lowered his arms. “Thought I’d give her a little hope. Make her think that she was in control.”
“What in the hell did you do to make her so angry?”
“How do you know I made her mad?”
“Well, since neither of us speak a word of Spanish, I am assuming you’ve had a thorough tongue lashing. And now it looks like she’s planning on skewering you and having you for dinner. So, yeah … I’d say she’s mad.”
“Thanks for your insightful observation, Alex. It’s helpful as always,” Max replied drily.
“What did you do? Not bed her or bed her too much?”
“I just got here!”
“Ahh,” Alex replied as he raised his chin up with acknowledgement. “So not enough.”
She eyed both men strangely. They bickered back and forth like brothers, but looked absolutely nothing alike. They were night and day from each other. Both tall, broad chested and muscular but that was where their similarities ended. The blond-haired man had a calmer aristocratic presence to him. His articulation was superb as though he had many tutors. He carried himself with the grace of nobility. But the black-haired man had a rough presence to him. A worldly presence. He had a presence that would make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. His articulation was not as refined as his companion, but he was not uneducated.
They were acting like she wasn’t even there. That she was unarmed. Well, she was there and she was armed! Their conversation began to sink in. Bed her? Not bed her? Pirates! No! She pointed her swords back and forth between the two men.
In poor English she said, “Pie-rat!” in an attempt to sound like she didn’t understand what they were saying.
“It seems we have a problem,” Max stated matter-of-factly as he watched the beautiful Spanish lady standing in his bed.
“We? We? Hell, there ain’t no we to it. You have a problem, my friend, not me. I will leave you to do whatever it is with your newly found trophy … pie-rat,” Alex said mocking her, as he quickly shut the door.
“You’re a real friend, you know that, you bastard!” Max yelled at the closed door.
“And you’re a pie-rat!” he heard Alex reply.
Chapter Six
Max turned his attention back to the feisty raven-haired beauty in front of him. He watched her for several minutes and realized she was daring him to disarm her. He could do that easily enough, but he didn’t want to risk hurting her. What was he going to do with her? She didn’t have the feel to her of being the unsavory sort. Her features were too soft, too pristine to be of the sordid kind.
Kristina could feel his eyes traveling up and down her as he watched her. Pirate! Of all the things! She had hoped she had had the last of dealing with pirates after she had gotten off that blasted ship. Furrowing her brow a thought crossed her mind, what was she going to do now? Her kind-of-sort-of-well-thought-out-plan was not working out. If she hadn’t taken that damned nap!
A small chuckle came from his direction. Max, she remembered him being called. He didn’t look like a pirate. His hair was well groomed and he was not wearing an earring. So an earring was not a requirement to be a pirate. Not that she had had many run-ins with pirates until recently.
The Spanish stowaway was deep in thought about her current situation. Taking advantage of her distraction, Max quickly took the sword from her hands. She attempted to wrestle it back, but it was pointless. Never had she seen a man made so … so … so … hard. That was the word that came to mind. Her tiny fists didn’t even make him flinch. He wrestled the weapon so easily from her grasp. And before she knew what was happening, he had her hands pinned behind her back, her body pressed to his, her face
even with his broad chest. Oh and what a nice chest it was! Tan, muscular and just begging to be touched. Startled by her thoughts, she attempted to look into his eyes. She had to look up and up and up until she could see his black eyes. He easily towered over her five-foot two-inch frame.
“Let me go!” she shouted at him, forgetting to keep up the pretense of not knowing English.
“So you do speak English?” Max questioned with a twinkle in his dark eyes.
“Let me go, you asinine dolt!” she chided in a disparaging tone. She struggled to break free. “Or do you have cotton in your ears!”
Her insult made the humor leave his eyes. He looked at her coldly, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I think you’re in no position to be making demands. May I remind you whose ship you’re on?”
“Well, it’s obviously not yours!” she countered.
Her acuteness surprised Max. He hadn’t realized how intently she had observed Alex’s conversation. His thoughts became distracted as he felt the heat from her body penetrating through the thin red shirt she was wearing.
“And this shirt you’re wearing is obviously not yours. Do you know what happens to thieves on pirate ships?”
Anger filled her expression. “You are all thieves!” she retaliated.
“Touché,” Max replied dryly. “But nonetheless, I believe you have my shirt and I would like it—”
Before he could finish his sentence, she raised her knee and attempted to hit him in the groin. His towering height was a disadvantage to her, causing her to miss her mark. But it was close enough. He let out a faint curse and let go of her. She darted towards the dresser, spun around and found him recovering from her attempt to cause him pain. She grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be the biscuits Max had carried in earlier, and threw one at him. One hit his head with a small thud.