Chapter 7
Like most nights, when Rosetta returned to her quarters to sleep, she jumped into the hammock in her tights and tunic.
She’d removed her boots and then her doublet, hanging it over one of the chairs with her hat sitting on top. Inside the hammock with her was a pillow and blanket to keep her warm throughout the cool night.
As much as she tried, it was hard not to think about the man who had once slept in her hammock. Everything smelt of him, musky and masculine.
There was the lingering tinge of salt covering every nook and cranny of the vessel, and she could also smell a hint of sweet wood and bark. A scent belonging to men who were like strong, warm trees she wanted to cuddle into as they shared that intoxicating essence of sweetness with her nose.
It was heady and often made her miss being curled under a warm body.
Where are you now, Mr Paine? she asked the ceiling as she stared up at it, her hands folded behind her head.
She had one foot inside the hammock while the other swayed back and forth outside of it, making it rock slowly.
She could only imagine where he could be, perhaps still stranded on Dunecaster. Then again, after meeting him, he may already be trying to follow her.
Good luck. She snorted.
The ocean was vast and finding her was near impossible.
Within a month, she was hoping to have completed her goal; she doubted he’d ever find her again.
Which... was a shame.
His voice, although filled with obvious rage, had been rather a deep, husky baritone. It would have been pleasant saying naughty words or making soft grunts of pleasure.
She’d liked the way he looked. Long black hair.
She twirled a strand of her own in thought before rubbing it over her lips.
An eye that looked like the sun in daylight.
She’d found it quite spellbinding and stared at it while she’d been feeding him, despite paying careful attention to their conversation.
A big, wide body. He was covered in muscle; she bet he’d crush her if he laid on top of her, which, quite frankly, she adored.
He’d had black chest hair she would have enjoyed running her fingers through as she admired the bulky, strong muscles beneath it. He was covered in so many scars she doubted he’d mind if she added to them.
Strong men don’t mind being clawed at.
Rosetta disliked soft men who cried if she dug her nails in too deep. They always stop thrusting just as I’m climaxing. It always stole the intensity of lust-making, forcing her to lie still like a virgin maiden.
She gave a small smirk. I doubt he would’ve been like that. Alister looked rough, brutal, the kind of man who could have tossed her onto the bed from the other side of the room.
It was hard not to think about him when she knew he was on her tail, and she was surrounded by his scent every night as she slept. His men also spoke of him incessantly, like heart-sick lovers.
From the moment he’d opened his big dumb mouth and chosen to avenge some poor, helpless woman, she’d been attracted to him. Well, she would have been attracted to his good looks regardless, but she wouldn’t be fantasising about him without the words he’d spoken to comfort her.
That strange kindness, from someone who looked like a scarred villain, tugged on one of the few heartstrings she had.
Ugh! Rosetta turned to her side to curl up. I miss men! Men who weren’t her crew; she could never cross that boundary, ever.
I want to see my port boys.
A good stiff fucking would stop her fantasising about the arrogant Alister Paine just because she was sleeping in his damn hammock.
It would stop her from trailing her hand down her body and into her tights so she could caress her throbbing clit, needing to play with the sensitive nub just to be rid of her self-created ache.
Once she had what she wanted, she’d steer the ship straight to port to let her crew, and herself, finally blow off some much-needed steam.
With her plan set, after she gave herself some orgasmic relief to tide her over, she finally closed her eyes to let sleep take her.
Deep into the night, Rosetta was jolted awake by a ringing sound. Ding! Ding! Ding! Its urgency had her immediately alert.
The warning bell. She rolled out of the hammock with skill, falling through the air before her bare feet swiftly found the floor. We’re under attack.
She grabbed one boot and shoved it on. The other, she shoved on as she hopped over to retrieve her weapons belt.
Who the hell is attacking us?
They were anchored near the shore of an unoccupied island, far from any shipping routes. No one should be able to see them, surrounded by mountains on one side and open sea on the other.
“Raise the Jolly Roger,” she yelled as she opened her door. “If they’re pirates, let them know to back off!”
She froze when she glimpsed men climbing over the railings of the main deck. It was too late.
“Rosetta!” Naeem shouted, climbing the steps two at a time. He’d probably been asleep, too, since he looked just as dishevelled as she did. “I can’t see another ship.”
“Then drop grenades into their row boats!” She turned and pushed him back down the stairs. “It’s a sneak attack.”
Of course it was. That’s why they were being invaded with the dark of night covering their approach.
“Whoever they are, they will regret trying to take my ship!” She walked to the railing of the quarterdeck to speak to her crew surfacing one by one, nearly ninety men ready to fight. “I want them all dead!”
How dare someone try to take over my ship! In the dead of night, no less!
Her men began to fight the enemy, who had finished their climb onto the deck. It was done in near blinding darkness as some of her crew worked to light the lanterns so they could see their foes. Last thing they wanted to do was attack their own men in the confusion.
Someone climbed over the railings on her level, like a creepy spider emerging from the darkness, and it was hard to see him as he held onto the shrouds. The crescent moon above was the only reason she could glimpse him at all, but it cast the front of him in shadow.
She unsheathed her sword to raise it at her attacker, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. He’s as big as an ogre!
“Did ye miss me, lads?” a boisterous, booming voice chuckled out.
There was a wave of silence and a pause that washed over the entire crew. Even she knew the familiar voice.
Her lips parted in disbelief. Alister.
His crew who had chosen to stay on the ship with her turned on them.
He descended seamlessly from the tall railing, like he was merely taking a normal step. At the same time, he drew his cutlass, the curved blade glinting in the moonlight as he stomped his way towards her.
“I told you you’d regret not killing me.” There was a smugness to his tone.
Then he swung.
Rosetta deflected it, stumbling to the side from how swiftly she’d needed to protect herself. With a menacing laugh, he slashed sideways.
She had to curve her body backwards to miss the tip of his blade cutting across her stomach. Her hair flew up in front of her face, almost blocking her view for a moment. When he tried to slash downwards, she pushed up with the flat edge of her long blade and held the length of it against his.
She kept him at bay, but her arms bounced downwards at the sudden force of his weight, and she could feel them shaking. He was stronger than her, which was no surprise.
When he reached out to grab her, she ducked down and backwards. She couldn’t take him head-on like this. He was too big for her alone, too strong, too tall, too everything!
I have to run. But to where? I just need time to think.
“If you want me,” she mocked at him, “you have to catch me.”
She turned to run towards the quarterdeck railing and heard him give chase. His weapon belt jiggled around just as much as hers, and their boots hitting the timber beneath their footsteps thudded hard through the night air.
Grabbing a rope to the sails, she flung herself off the edge of a rail. She flew through the air, aiming towards the rear of the boat before swinging back around.
Her boots touched down on the main deck, right in front of the cabin where Naeem and Mr Smith slept.
Without hesitation, she opened the door and locked herself inside, frantically looking for a place to hide.
She’d seen him jump from the top railing and land on one knee when she’d entered the room, so he wouldn’t be far behind.
Within moments, the door flew open, banging against the wall before swinging shut. She emerged from her spot behind the closing door, letting its creaks hide her footsteps, with her pistol raised at his head.
As though he knew she’d be there, he suddenly pushed her hand upwards before she could shoot him. She released the trigger before she accidentally wasted the one bullet she had.
He held her wrist tight. “Got you, lass.”
She kneed him in the crotch with every bit of force she could muster, and he grunted, loosening his grip as he keeled over a little, grabbing at his precious jewels she’d just damaged.
She lined up her pistol again, but he stepped sideways and slapped her arm to the side, knocking it out of her hand. Rosetta slashed forward with her sword instead, and he raised his cutlass to block it.
Shit. What do I do now?
“Get off my ship!” she yelled, slicing her sword through the air once more.
“It’s my ship!” he roared.
He swiped his leg out to the side and tripped her. Her sword flew out of her hand as she fell in a heap against the timber. She stifled a cry when her elbow and hip smacked against the ground, her blade clanking to the floor and sliding out of reach.
He grabbed her wrist to try to force her onto her stomach and into submission, but she booted him in the gut before she punched his good eye with a heavy hit.
Irritatingly undeterred, he grabbed her other wrist so she couldn’t attack him again, but that wouldn’t stop her. Rearing up, she sunk her teeth into his arm, biting him like a rabid dog.