Chapter Sixteen #2
Taking a deep breath, he dipped beneath the waves and kicked for shore. Without his shirt, he glided with ease. The cool water and pressing quiet eased the frantic beat of his heart, tension draining with each powerful sweep of his arms.
Soon enough, his lungs burned. But he forced himself to keep going. One kick. Two. Three . . . all the way to ten. His breath whooshed out in a cloud of bubbles and he surfaced.
Gasping for air, he turned to wait for Red. She was nowhere to be found. He treaded water, scanning the dark surface of the bay. What if she’d gotten a cramp? Were there sharks in these waters? Surely she hadn’t . . .
Water splashed.
He turned back toward the island and there she was, several yards past him. She waved and continued toward shore.
Show-off.
Shaking his head, he started after her. His broad strokes helped him catch up and when they reached the beach, they staggered up onto the sand together. While he shook the water from his hair, something hit him in the stomach.
His shirt. Christian wrung it out and pulled it over his head. Red set off down the beach as he jabbed his arms into the sleeves. He jogged after her and grabbed her shoulder. No way he was following her.
Turning, he started toward the brush, ignoring her attempts to resist. He half dragged her into the trees and started up the hillside toward town. When they reached a clearing, she dug her feet in.
“Where are we going?”
He ground to a stop and let out a growl. “I don’t know. The governor. A mayor. Somebody with authority.”
She gave a soft laugh and reached up, brushing a trail of water from her cheek. “This is Tortuga.”
He wanted to shake her. Or worse, kiss her. Instead, he turned away. “We aren’t living in the 1600s. This isn’t a lawless island anymore.”
She tugged her arm free and rubbed where he’d been gripping her. “But there is sympathy for the pirates here. Why do you think Thorne chose this spot?”
“I’ll find someone.”
“Does the United States hold sway with Tortuga?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out.” He took hold of her arm again. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” She pulled free again. “I cannot breathe like this.”
Like what? His eyes widened as she lifted her shirt and exposed a long strip of linen tightly wound around her torso. She unwound it and threw it to the ground, taking a deep breath.
“That’s better.”
His throat went dry. Her wet shirt clung to her chest, molding around her breasts. Each nipple pressed against the thin fabric and his gaze traced the contours of her side to the gentle swell of her belly.
When he jerked his eyes up, a flush had crept across her cheeks. But she didn’t shrink away from him.
“You’re a reasonable man. Or so I’d like to think.”
His nose flared. Anytime a woman started a sentence with that statement, beware.
“Let me take you back to Savannah.”
“No.”
“Lieutenant. Hear me out.”
“No. I will not indebt myself to any pirate.”
She gave him a pointed stare and mumbled something beneath her breath.
“What was that?”
“I said, you’re already indebted to me.”
His fingers twitched. And the wretched girl laughed.
“Is it that bad, Lieutenant? Would you rather still be locked up on Thorne’s ship than admit you owe me?”
He growled and turned away, but she followed, stepping in front of him before he could reach the edge of the clearing.
“Come with me, Lieutenant. The quicker you get back to Savannah, the quicker you can put a plan together to take down Thorne. As much as it may pain you, we are on the same side in this.” Her blue eyes flashed with emotion and some of his anger dissipated. She was scared.
He closed his eyes. She was right to be. His father would continue to try to get her family’s map. Would kill to get it.
Well, she would have to face Thorne on her own.
“Lieutenant, will you sail with me?”
Before Christian could answer, a twig snapped in the bushes behind him. He spun and nearly impaled himself on a sword.
“Choose your next words wisely, Lieutenant.” The old man—Griff she’d called him—held his blade steady.
Two more men materialized next to him. One of them tossed Red her rapier. Christian pushed Griff’s sword aside.
“No. Once you leave, Thorne will follow you, leaving me free to rescue my men and find a ship.”
Griff nodded and stepped aside. “Very well.”
Christian strode past him.
“Wait.”
He stiffened, but let the old man approach him.
“You might need this.” Griff passed him his blade.
Christian’s fingers clamped around the warm hilt. He inclined his head, the closest he could bring himself to saying thank you, and strode into the woods. When Red called his name, he increased his pace.
She would be fine.
If she was smart, she’d pack up and get out of Savannah. Move far away.
He had more pressing things to take care of: finding his crew.
*
Christian shifted on his heels and tested the weight of the pirate sword.
Four guards.
He could take them.
Finding his men had been far easier than he had thought. A simple question to a drunk on the streets had sent him in the direction of the auction house. Climbing the wall to the big yard had been easy too.
Now, he crouched behind a stack of crates and waited for the right moment. His men’s lives depended on him. They sat in a tight group beneath a tall palm with their hands and feet bound. Thirty-six of them.
Less than half his crew.
His lips pulled back even as his chest tightened. Good men had died trying to rescue Miss Warstein.
All for nothing. Worse—for a pirate.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Focus on the task at hand.
Isaac sat in the middle of the group, hunched over. Christian pressed a fist to his chest. Thank God. If he had lost his friend . . . He shook his head and slid his gaze back to the guards, his grip tightening around the sword’s hilt.
One of the men stood and began a perimeter walk. Once he made it to the far corner of the yard, Christian made his move. He stayed in the shadows and approached the three remaining men from behind.
They didn’t see him until he was upon them and the one closest to him barely got his sword up in time to block Christian’s blow. He gritted his teeth as the man recovered and thrust back at him. He’d hoped to take at least one of them out before the fight began.
The other guards drew their weapons and joined in the fight with shouts. Their blades came at him from all sides, and when the fourth man reached them, Christian swore. He’d misjudged. Considerably. These men were well trained.
Sweat trickled down his brow as he put everything he had into the fight.
But against four men, he could only stay on the defense, blocking blow after blow.
It was only a matter of time. One of the men got behind Christian, and when he spun to keep the man’s sword from piercing his back, another blade twisted against his. And just like that, he was disarmed.
He began to sink to his knees in defeat when a shadow flew in front of him.
Another clang of swords and the fight started again.
Long copper hair shone in the moonlight as his defender pushed the man back with a series of lightning-fast blows.
Her crewmates joined her and engaged the other men, but Christian couldn’t drag his eyes from Red.
She’d changed. No longer disguised as a boy, she wore a ruffled blouse with a deep V-cut neckline. Her belt cinched tight around her waist and she sported that ridiculous hat with the red feather.
She kept one step ahead of her opponent at all times. Each move he made, she reacted and countered before he’d even finished. And her feet kept them moving in a dizzying circle. No wonder she danced so well.
From his position as a bystander, he could see the man favored his right leg.
But Red had already figured it out and pressed her attack so that he was forced to use it as much as possible.
When he came at her with a high cut, she twisted and slid her blade along his, using her momentum to yank the sword free.
She stood there with her rapier pointed at the base of his neck, her shoulders heaving.
Like a damn avenging angel. He frowned. How had he ever believed she needed saving?
She took control, took charge, of every situation they’d been in.
Far from needing to be saved. Hell, she was saving him. Again.
The rest of her crew disarmed the other three guards and silence fell around the yard.
“Sir,” Red spoke first. “I apologize for this disturbance.”
What?
The man gaped at her as she lowered her sword and moved to Christian’s side. She stiffened, then thrust her arm around his waist.
“My husband is known to make reckless mistakes like this.”
Christian blinked. What game did she play?
“You see . . .” She swept her other hand through his hair above his ear. “He received a blow to the head years back and has never been the same.”
“What’s this got to do with me?” The man crossed his arms.
She laughed. Too shaky to be believable. “He was to come here and negotiate a price on these men. We’ve acquired a new ship and need a crew.”
“Then why’d he attack us?”
Her arm tightened around his side. Right. He’d better play along.
He scratched his head and gave the blankest stare he could. “I attacked you?”
Red patted his hand. “It’s part of his condition. He has periods where he blacks out and believes he’s still in the very battle where he received his injury.”
The man stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment before turning back to her. “Then why’d you attack us?”
She shrugged and gave Christian an adoring gaze. “I couldn’t be sure you weren’t going to kill him. Even though we have our differences, we are very much in love.” Christian bit back a snort and she elbowed him before continuing. “I couldn’t bear to see him die.”
Good God. This story was getting less and less believable. But these fools were eating it up. One of the other guards gave him a look alternating between pity and jealousy. His lips tugged up. Two could play this game.
He turned to her and ran his knuckles along her jaw. Red shivered at the contact and he leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead. “Yes, very much in love.”
Her breath caught and he fought the urge to drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless before all these men. Would he always react to her like this? Before he could ponder the answer, she jerked away from him and rubbed her palms over her breeches.
“Back to the matter at hand. What would you consider a fair price for these men?”
“They aren’t for sale.”
She flashed a wide smile. “For the right price, everything is for sale.”
When she held out her hand, Griff approached and set a bag in her palm. She untied it and pulled out a gold coin, flipping it between her fingers. Torchlight gleamed off it and the man’s eyes became hungry.
“How many men are—?”
“Thirty-six.” Christian answered before she could finish.
Her smile turned sly. “There are fifty pieces in here. More than enough to cover their cost and leave a bit extra for your troubles tonight.”
The man swallowed and she tossed the coin. His grubby fingers snatched it out of the air and he examined it.
“What do you say, sir? We’re on a tight schedule.”
His eyes gleamed. She’d won him. “Very well. The boss won’t be happy we made a deal without him, but he’d be a fool not to take this price.”
After she passed over what amounted to a small fortune for his men, she strode toward his crew, some of whom stared at her with confused recognition. “Alright men, I dare say you heard us.”
Christian hurried over to her and set a hand on her shoulder, quieting her so he could be the one to address his crew. “You belong to me now. In return for your work, I promise to be a fair master. Do you agree to the terms?”
They responded with a rousing cheer. Too rousing. Still, the guards stood aside and let them file from the yard. Red led the way down the street and Christian walked next to her in silence.
When they turned a corner and were out of sight of the auction house, Griff approached. “We need to go.”
She nodded and drew to a stop. “Lieutenant, my offer of passage to Savannah still stands.”
“And what of my men?”
She glanced at Griff, who shook his head. “Only you, Lieutenant.”
“Then I turn it down.”
Isaac cleared his throat and stepped in. “Go.”
Christian stared hard at Red as the breeze kicked up and blew a loose strand of her damp hair back. No way he was spending several days alone with her. He’d lose his mind by the time they returned to Georgia.
“We can procure a ship here.”
Isaac frowned. “But what if we can’t? It could take days. If you go with her, you can return with haste. Thorne must be taken down. The quicker you get back, the better chances you have of capturing him.”
Christian blinked at him. Now was not the time to reveal Thorne’s real identity. He dragged his fingers through his hair. Christ, the opposing interests were piling up.
Red pulled something from her pocket and held it out to him.
His compass.
“How . . . ?”
“Later. Are you coming or not?” The two other crew members already hurried down the hill toward the water, leaving her and an impatient Griff behind.
He took the compass and flipped it over in his hand, staring at the engraving on the bottom. He was going to regret this.
“I’m coming.”