Chapter Seven
Samantha went utterly still, her pulse reverberating in rapid beats against the cool edge of the lieutenant’s blade. She blanched. What had happened?
She’d nearly killed him.
One second, she’d been ready to relinquish her rapier and pull the dagger from its sheath in her boot. Before he could recover, she would have spun behind him and had the deadly blade at his neck.
But the blasted man had slipped.
She dropped her gaze to the deck where a highly polished plank gleamed beneath them. Damn these navy men and their obsession with appearance.
Now, she’d lost.
Tears pricked her eyes as the cheers of the Lieutenant’s men roared in her ears.
No.
Her throat constricted while her mouth opened and closed with no effect.
She couldn’t breathe. An ungodly fire burned inside her lungs, and Samantha’s knees buckled.
She sagged against the solid form behind her as her vision spun and blessedly, the heavy pressure of the arm beneath her breasts lessened a degree.
She sucked in a breath as the lieutenant leaned in and set his lips at her ear.
“If I had known you were so eager to throw yourself into my arms, I would have forgone the fight altogether.” The low words rumbled against her skin and she jerked her face away while he sheathed his sword.
His free hand came up and toyed with the laces of her mask. “I think it’s time for you to stop hiding your face.”
Her blood went cold.
Never.
She thrashed to the side and jerked her head up, smashing it into his chin.
With a growl, he yanked her back. “Hiding something?”
Something? More like everything. Tears threatened to spill when he lifted his hand again. Before he could touch the laces again, she pressed the back of her head into his chest. If he couldn’t reach the ties . . .
“I could just rip it off.” His fingertips brushed over the bottom of the leather.
“Not here, Lieutenant.” She injected as much authority as she could into her voice, but it still cracked.
He paused. Pulled her flush to him.
“Later then?”
She gritted her teeth. “My mask stays on.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “As if you’re in any position to make demands on this ship.”
His chest heaved against her back, and she was suddenly aware of each hard ridge of him pressing into her, especially the one jutting into the small of her back. With an outraged gasp, she attempted to angle her body away from him. He held tight.
“Release me.”
“I rather like this position.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Please.”
“My, my, suddenly so polite.” He shifted his grip. “You promise not to do anything reckless?”
Reckless.
There was that word again. She might have laughed if she were not still plastered against him. What could possibly be more reckless than this?
His fingers slid up and down her side and an odd warmth spread from where he gripped her. She squirmed and his breath hitched.
“Careful, Red, or you’ll make me do something indecent in front of my men.” She stilled. “Now, do I have your word?”
Samantha managed a curt nod, and his arm slipped away. As soon as she was free, she jumped from him. His men had crowded close with lecherous gazes pinned to her. She glanced down and groaned. She may as well be naked for how much her shirt revealed.
With a grimace, she brought one arm up to cover herself and stared at the deck. A pair of boots came into view as a discreet cough sounded. She swallowed and lifted her head a fraction. The first officer stood there and held her jacket out to her. Thank God.
She snatched it from his grasp and shrugged into it. When she’d buttoned it, she met his amused gaze. “I’m glad to find that at least one person on this ship has some decency.”
He flashed her a grin and gave a mock bow. “Someone here has to keep their wits about them, and it seems I’ve been thrust into the role.” He gave Lieutenant Thompson a pointed look.
The lieutenant stared at where her hands had paused on the last button at her neck. He took his jacket from the officer and slung it over one arm. “I believe Red and I have an appointment in my cabin.”
He took a step toward her and Samantha’s heart thumped an erratic beat. A predatory gleam flashed in his eyes and she couldn’t help shrinking back. He noticed and raised a brow.
“Or are you going to back out of our deal? Shall we go down to the brig instead?”
She bristled. “Of course not. I am a woman of my word.”
He laughed then and she blinked at the rich sound. For a moment, the stern expression on his face disappeared and he was the same man that had flirted with her in the garden. He pulled his hat off, sending tousled locks cascading around his cheeks and her heart gave an erratic thump.
His smile faded. “A pirate, keeping their word? Forgive me if I’m not convinced.”
A few more steps and he closed the distance between them. Standing a mere foot away, he seemed so much bigger. Perspiration still glimmered on his brow, but his breathing had returned to normal. Hers, on the other hand . . . she fought to calm her racing nerves.
Breathe.
He extended his hand and she stared at it. “Shall we, then?”
Her eyes widened. “Now?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Isaac, bring me my schedule so Red and I can find a mutually acceptable time. Perhaps next week after church?” Sarcasm dripped from each word, and she frowned.
“I meant . . . I thought I would . . .”
He tilted his head. “Yes?”
Heat crept up her cheeks. “I would like to go change.”
A snort escaped him. “How daft do you think I am, Red? You think I’m going to let you out of my sight for even a minute?”
Her chest seized. She couldn’t do this. Not right now.
“I—I . . .” There had to be something.
“You what, Red?” He stepped closer and her mind went blank. His hand rose and he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I see no reason to put off our meeting. Besides, you won’t be needing your clothes.”
“Your compass,” she blurted out.
“Excuse me?”
She straightened, pulling from his touch. “I need to go retrieve your compass.”
“I’m sure one of your men would be happy to.”
She shook her head. “It’s in a—a private spot.”
He stared at her for several tense moments then shrugged. “Very well. Isaac, restrain our visitor.” He pointed to Griff. “You have fifteen minutes, Red. If you don’t come back, we’ll have a little execution of our own over here.”
She frowned as his officer directed two men to tie Griff up. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, Red. The governor has granted me the power to make these decisions at will.” He pulled out a pocket watch and flipped it open. “Fourteen minutes.”
Samantha’s pulse jumped and she shot him a glare as she twisted to the rope Griff had tied to the railing. She wrapped her hands around the rough cords and prepared to jump.
“Don’t do this. Take the ship and leave me.”
She stiffened at Griff’s whispered words and gave a subtle shake of her head. How dare he think she would desert him. Of all the cowardly things . . . Before he could appeal again, she pushed off the railing and sailed to the Hurricane.
The crew gathered on deck stood still, unsure what to do. She gave one of the men a pointed look and nodded toward her cabin. He jumped into action and met her at the door. Aware of the eyes on her, she made her instructions quick.
“Make sure we are ready to sail at a moment’s notice.” She glanced at the setting sun. “I’ll wait until dark.”
When he nodded, she unlatched the door and slipped inside. As soon as it clicked shut behind her, she crumpled against it. What had she gotten herself into?
The compass still laid on the shelf with her shells and she forced her body into motion. No time to waste bemoaning what was about to happen. She plucked the instrument from its spot and clenched her fingers around it. Somehow, the sheer panic she’d been waiting to overtake her hadn’t come. Yet.
In fact, each time she thought of Lieutenant Thompson, her stomach gave a little quiver. If she had to choose any man she’d ever met to be her first, she couldn’t think of a single other man she’d rather have. The lieutenant’s muscles, his glorious hair, the way his eyes burned into her . . .
Stop it. He’s your enemy.
But her traitorous mind couldn’t banish the memory of his body pressed against hers, of his hand at her side. What would it be like for that hand to touch bare skin? A flush spread over her and she turned to her wardrobe.
Breathe.
She unbuttoned her blouse and raised her fingers to the spot beneath her ear still tingling with the brush of his phantom breath.
After all, if she wanted to be a captain, she couldn’t remain an innocent lass forever.
A thrill ran through her. He would touch her. In the most intimate of ways. And she would touch him. Have full access to him for however long they remained in his cabin.
Her toes curled as her lips curved.
Yanking out a new pair of breeches and a clean shirt, she tossed everything onto her bed. How many minutes had she wasted daydreaming?
Samantha slipped from her dampened clothing.
With quick fingers, she unwound the strip of linen she’d used to keep her breasts bound during the fight.
She shook a deep, unrestricted breath and rushed to her wash table.
A basin filled with clean seawater perched on it and she tossed a bar of soap in.
She grabbed a sponge and dipped it into the water.
With hurried movements, the worst of the day’s sweat washed from her skin.
With no time to do anything with her hair, she left it in the messy braid she’d twisted while hiding in the rigging earlier, doing her best to tuck stray strands back in place.
Her breeches stuck to her wet legs, but she forced them up.
For a moment, she considered sheathing her dagger at her calf but shook her head. No time.