Chapter 17
Alister held a cigar between his fingers as he leaned against the railing of the quarterdeck, staring down at his crew.
He clutched a near-empty bottle of rum in the other hand, gently tapping it against the railing in time with the music.
Men were singing, playing instruments, or drumming on barrels to add an accompanying beat.
Night had fallen, and everyone was drinking, relaxing, and merrily socialising. A grin was fixed on his features as he watched them carouse on the main deck.
Men were gambling. Laughter was constant. The sails were furled and the anchor was dropped to keep them near shore.
They had made it to the Kou Pelin Islands two days earlier than planned due to favourable winds and were currently celebrating.
Alister watched Pierre forcefully take Rosetta’s hand to make her dance. She leapt at the opportunity. It didn’t take long for Pierre to realise that his chosen dancing partner was rowdy, and Alister knew she was stepping on his toes on purpose. Her squealing laughter was a dead giveaway.
Rosetta liked to pick on the man, who thought his usual charm would work on her. It bit him in the arse every time. It was often the highlight of Alister’s day to watch her mess with Pierre.
Since they’d arrived at Kou Pelin Islands, however, he’d noticed her behaviour had changed. A smile rarely left her face. She was excited.
She really wants that ship.
Alister thought – hoped – he might be able to get it.
The cannons were ready, the men prepared and told of the plan. A week ago, they raided the trading boat and completely refilled his own with the supplies procured.
Even though all the holes in the hull had been fixed, neither one of them had spoken about her sleeping arrangements. Currently, Rosetta still slept in his cabin in her own hammock.
He thought she had grown comfortable and didn’t want to relocate again. Alister had no issue letting her stay.
Unfortunately, it did very little to assist him in bedding her; they were rarely awake in the room at the same time.
She’s gone before I wake. He often missed his opportunity to catch her crawling into her hammock because he was busy. He manned the helm for most of the day, but afterwards, he still had work to do as captain, like checking the stocks and cargo, or speaking with his crew about any issues.
That’s why tonight was a surprise. Rosetta was still awake, far past sundown.
“The woman’s got spirit,” Pierre said with a disgruntled laugh, making his way up the steps after escaping her. “I think she’s broken my toes.”
“You’ll be right,” Alister told him, ashing his cigar before taking a deep draw of it.
“How is it you’re able to fuck her, but I can barely get close to her without getting hurt?”
Little did he know, Alister was not.
She won’t give in. He knew the lass wanted him, but other than the day she’d gotten him sliced with a cleaver, he hadn’t been able to get into her pants again.
No matter what he did, said, or tried, no matter how aroused he got her – to the point that she’d literally be grinding her body against his – she wouldn’t cave.
His time was almost up.
Alister wondered if getting her the Laughing Siren was the price. That’s a big ask, lass. He almost thought it could be worth it.
He could only imagine the reward, when saving her from the cleaver had gotten her to suck him with her annoying, naughty mouth.
For the past week, he’d been reflecting on that day.
For the rest of his life, he didn’t think he’d ever get the sight of her out of his head.
Her tunic bundled around her neck and her tights nearly down to her knees, lying back against the table while she looked up at him.
Her hands had been curled just above her exposed breasts, her thighs wet from his touch.
There had been an innocence about her, a softness in her blue eyes.
Her brown hair had haloed around her head, those freckles across her nose pinkened in obvious arousal, eyes fixed on him.
Her huffs of breath had been quiet, but they fell from wet and swollen lips, even though he’d never kissed them.
The contrast of that expression when she usually looked either devious or bitchy had been mind-achingly haunting.
Even now, it made his body shudder with desire.
Alister thought he could’ve drunk in the sight of her like that for eternity.
“That’s ’cause yer an annoying lil shit, Pierre,” Derek said from beside Alister – who had been standing there silently the entire time.
“You’re joking, right? I’m way easier to handle than him.” Pierre hiked his thumb at Alister. “Don’t know why she picked him over me.”
Because she’s a smart lass. Alister probably wouldn’t have been as interested in getting her the Laughing Siren if she hadn’t tried to catch his attention.
“She’s liked our cap’n from the start,” Derek rebuffed. “And she knows ye’d probably give her a disease.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Alister cut in, ashing his cigar again before letting it burn. She may like the idea of his dick, but he knew she held no feelings for him. “She argues too much with me.”
They bickered constantly. She wouldn’t follow orders, and Alister would yell at her for it. Some men cowered at the brutal tone of his voice sometimes, but Rosetta? The lass would either glare or laugh at him for it.
She’s got a spark in her. An irritating one he found daring.
“That’s because she’s crazy!” Pierre yelled, shaking his head while taking a swig of his own bottle of rum.
“Men call women like that crazy because they don’t have the skills to handle them,” Alister told him with a chuckle. “The lass’ mind is perfectly sound, she’s just strange tempered.”
“It’s only crazy men who would marry a woman like her,” Derek added.
“Good luck to the man who marries her.” Alister snorted. “Only a fool would take her on, and if he didn’t start out mad, she’d drive him there.”
“Hear, hear!” Pierre cheered in agreement. He stared down at his rum bottle, turning it from side to side to read its partially wet and destroyed label. “Still, she’s fun to have around. Oh! And the food. That woman sure knows how to cook.”
Alister knew everyone had enjoyed their meals the day she’d introduced them to nutmeg. Even Glen Darkley had been impressed – and the older man was hard to stir emotion from.
From their position on the quarterdeck, peering down above the rest of the ship, they watched Clint try to steal a dance with her. She quickly flung him away after a few spins, then stole Naeem to swing with instead, who seemed eager to let her.
“Still don’t understand the relationship between those two,” Derek muttered in a dark tone.
Neither did Alister.
They seemed closer than what was normal, and he’d noticed Naeem watch over her carefully when he wasn’t busy in the sails. Alister got a lot of chances to spy on people from the wheel of his ship.
“She’s just as close to that Mr Smith,” Alister added in her defence. “She’s found people she trusts on these seas and that’s rare to find.”
He had the same inkling about the two beside him. Pierre and Derek were the men he kept closest, which is why he’d placed them in their respective positions. He’d convinced his crew to vote them in.
Speaking of Mr Smith, Rosetta eventually grabbed the unwilling older gentleman and forced him to skip with her.
Watching them, Alister realised he didn’t know anything about her, or her relationship with those men, or how she’d come to be on his warship.
How did she become the captain of a crew? A crew that would die for her. Hell, Alister didn’t even know where she’d come from.
Hmm. He raised the hand with the cigar to brush a rogue hair off his cheek. Drunk women tend to be loose.
If he couldn’t manage to sleep with her tonight, perhaps he could get her to reveal her past, her secrets.
Who are you really, Rosetta Silver? Who was this tantalising woman in Alister’s sights?
Her dancing eventually stopped. She fell with her back against the railing near the aft of the ship that continued up alongside a few stairs to a small platform. She sat between Naeem and Mr Smith, placing an arm around each of their shoulders.
A horrible laugh sounded across the distance as she stomped both her feet. He shook his head. Woman laughs like a squealing pig. It was high-pitched and cringeworthy.
Alister chugged the remainder of his booze and carelessly threw the bottle down into the ocean.
“Alright, lads. Looks like I need another drink,” he told them, taking a last draw of his cigar before flicking that away as well.
He just really needed to leave.
Even though Rosetta was often distracted by those she danced with, her eyes instead found Alister towering above all on the quarterdeck.
He seemed to be in a good mood, with a grin plastered on his face, a cigar in one hand, and a bottle in the other.
After she’d spent some time trying to get Pierre to leave her alone, she’d peeked up to the three men talking. She’d spoken very few words to Derek in the three weeks she’d been on the ship, but she didn’t mind the older man. He usually answered her in grunts when she handed him his food.
Pierre was too friendly and familiar for her to ever be comfortable with. She enjoyed picking on him and hurting him for her own entertainment. He’d never asked her to brush his hair again, and she doubted he’d ever ask her to dance again either.
One lesson at a time.
But ever since she’d sat down between Naeem and Mr Smith, her attention had been solely on them.
Naeem’s chest still heaved as he tried to catch his breath from dancing with her. “Damn, Rosetta, you know how to make a man trip over his own feet.”
“Agreed.” Mr Smith chuckled. “You’re not graceful.”
“I am a wonderful dancer!” She kicked her legs forward before taking a swig of her drink with a laugh. She knew it was the truth. “I’m also a wonderful singer.”
She opened her mouth to start, and they clapped their hands over her face to stop her. Her laughter grew, despite being muffled by their palms.