Chapter Seventeen
Samantha helped push the longboat into the water, ignoring the silent form next to her. Definitely ignoring the tanned muscles of his arms exposed by his bunched-up sleeves. Christian hadn’t said a single word since agreeing to come with them.
Why had she pressed so hard for him to join them? The question continued to echo in her mind as they climbed into the boat. So that he could go after Thorne sooner. Except, could he really stand up against the pirate? Look at what had happened last time he tried.
But if the governor gave him more men, more ships, he might stand a chance. And Thorne might not come after her. She let her fingers brush her pocket, where the stolen half of Read’s map rested and gave the dark ship on the other side of the bay a sidelong glance.
When Thorne woke and discovered his map missing . . . She shivered and grabbed an oar, throwing all her weight into each stroke. Best to get as far away as possible.
True to form, as soon as they climbed onto the deck, the crew had nearly finished preparations to sail. The anchor lifted from the water before the longboat had been secured in place and the ship slid forward. Samantha left Christian on the main deck and sprinted up to the helm.
As her hands closed on the wheel, the sails unfurled. The topsail slapped in the breeze and when her crew tied it down, it filled and the Raven eased into motion. Her heart rate eased and she guided the ship from the bay.
The rest of the sails were secured and the ship picked up speed.
Samantha took off her hat and tied it to her belt as they began to cut through the swells.
Still damp from her swim, her hair whipped back in messy curls.
It would be a nightmare to tame later, but for now, she let herself fully enjoy the freedom.
Stars sparkled in the clear night sky and she made a few adjustments to their course by memory.
She closed her eyes and stroked her hand across the wheel.
I missed you. Her lips twisted. If anyone, even Griff, ever found out she spoke to the ship, she’d be a laughingstock.
One thing to sing with a ship, quite another to have a conversation with it.
“This isn’t a game for you, is it?”
Christian’s words jerked her back to reality and she turned to where he stood leaning against the railing.
“Of course not.”
He watched her for a long while. “I don’t know what to think of you.”
She turned back to the wheel. “Think whatever you want. I won’t try to sway your opinion of me.”
“You’re a good liar.”
Her hands tightened on the spokes and he sauntered over. “You almost had me believing we were married.”
She rolled her eyes. She’d made a terrible fool of herself with that little act and still didn’t understand how the guards hadn’t called her bluff. “Nonsense.”
“You did have one thing right, however. We have our differences.”
Of course they did. What did he want her to say?
His face darkened. “You had me fooled. All that time. All one big lie. You must have been laughing at my expense.”
She shook her head. “No. It was quite uncomfortable, if you must know.”
He leaned over. “You didn’t seem uncomfortable when naked beneath me. In fact, you were quite enthusiastic, if I recall.”
Thank God for the darkness, because her cheeks flamed. “I—”
“Tell me something, Red. That sob story about your parents, that was a lie as well, wasn’t it?”
Her lip trembled as a ringing began in her ears.
“Don’t you dare bring my parents into this.” She wrenched from the wheel. “Griff!”
Without even waiting to see that he was on his way to take over, she marched down the stairs to the main deck. Her steps led her as far away from the helm as she could go, until she leaned over the bow spirit. Dark waves crashed against the hull below, sending stinging mist into her face.
“Why do you keep saving me?”
He’d followed her.
She twisted with a cry. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
He pushed a wet strand of hair from his eyes. “God help me, Red, I don’t know.”
She blinked at his honest response.
“Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.
” He stepped closer to her and she swallowed at the intensity of his gaze.
“I don’t know if I want to arrest you for your crimes .
. .” He closed the distance between them and grabbed her shoulders. “Or kiss you senseless.”
Everything around them faded away until all she could hear was the roar of her pulse. Breathe in. Breathe out. The Raven pitched down a swell and a spray of water smacked into them. Still, he stared at her, even as water dripped down his face.
Her throat went dry. And suddenly, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. This was why she’d wanted him to come with them. This was who she wanted. What she wanted. When she closed her eyes, he was who she saw.
He stood still, inches from her, his eyes filled with intensity. His jaw ticked. Could she do it? Should she? In three days, they’d be back in Savannah. Back to being enemies.
All the more reason to.
She let go of the railing and pulled his face down to hers. Several days’ worth of dark stubble rubbed against her cheek as he caught her mouth with his. He tasted of salt. Of raw energy.
One of his hands tangled in her hair as his tongue pressed against hers.
When he caught her lower lip between his teeth, she let out a little moan and pressed her body against his solid form.
His other hand closed around the small of her back and he pushed against her until her back hit the railing.
The heat pouring through her body began to consume her, tearing through her at an alarming pace, and her kiss became frantic. He kept up with her frenzied movements, licking and sucking and biting until she could hardly breathe.
A whistle came from somewhere above in the rigging, piercing through her foggy subconscious, and she jerked her head back. He kept his hands in place, keeping her pressed against him, and his breaths came hot and ragged against her forehead.
She twisted from his grasp. “I—I need to go.”
Ducking beneath his arm, she fled past several wide-eyed crewmates. So much for winning their respect. Griff glared at her as she ran across the main deck. How much had he seen? With burning cheeks, she fumbled with the door to her cabin and slammed it shut behind her.
Taking a few deep breaths, she sank into her chair at the desk and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Not good. All her life, she’d avoided falling for anyone. She’d been able to focus on her sailing. Been able to ignore Abigail’s attempts at matching her with random gentlemen.
And now she had feelings for Lieutenant Thompson.
She groaned and dropped her head to the desk. Banged it once. Twice. Of all the people in the entire world, him. And she had kissed him in front of her crew. Her stomach still fluttered from it. Even now, an uncomfortable warmth bloomed in her belly.
Good God. Was this yearning?
She rubbed the smarting spot at her temple. Yearning or not, she had work to do.
Pulling the bit of parchment from her pocket, she gingerly unfolded the damp wax-coated paper and breathed out a sigh. A few lines of ink had gone blurry, but the coating had preserved the majority of it. Opening a drawer, she lifted a fresh piece of parchment and found her quill and ink.
Time to make a copy.
Whoever had torn the map had done it very strategically. The line on this half snaked back up to the coast, but quite far to the south.
Her parents had never been close.
With a shaky breath, she stood and retrieved the big conch, peeling the wax plug free. Slipping her half of the map out, she unfolded and pressed it to Thorne’s half. A little thrill went through her. She was the first to lay eyes on the location of the two-hundred-year-old treasure.
Now, to get it before Thorne caught up to them.
A grim smile settled on her lips as she dipped her quill into the ink. With painstaking movements, she slowly drew the black stained tip across the paper. Each scratch, each dip into the inkwell brought the map into clarity.
After at least an hour had passed, Samantha threw down the pen and stared down at the completed map. Her breath blew out and she lifted it into the lantern light. Not bad. A few shaky lines and a blot of ink here and there, but certainly good enough to guide her to the treasure.
She carefully folded the new map along with her original half and slid them into the conch before pressing the soft wax back into place. Thorne’s half went back into her pocket. It didn’t feel right to put it with her parents’ half. She’d find somewhere else to hide it.
Clearing her desk, she pulled out a few nautical charts and made some calculations. Once they made it past The Bahamas, it would be a straight shot to Savannah. Three days of sailing with the wind in their favor.
Before her hand closed around the handle of her door, she paused and took a deep breath. She needed to focus and sail this ship, and she couldn’t afford any more distractions. Hopefully, Christian would be below by now.
He wasn’t.
As soon as she opened the door, her sight zeroed in on the tall form leaning against the mainmast. At least she didn’t have to walk past him. With a forced swallow, she climbed the stairs to the quarterdeck and took the wheel from Griff.
“Take a rest. I’ll sail her until dawn.”
*
All night, she ignored Christian. He never did move from his spot against the mainmast, although he did finally sit down at some point.
As the stars tracked their courses through the sky, his dark gaze never left her.
At first, it sent goosebumps across her skin.
But as the hours crept by, it became a nuisance.
When her hair blew in her eyes, she didn’t dare sweep it away.
When her feet ached and she wanted to shift onto one leg, she held steady.
She would prove to him she was a true captain.