Chapter Seventeen #2
When the soft grey line on the horizon gave way to the pink of sunrise, Griff rejoined her.
He took the wheel and glanced at her. “You look like hell.”
“Thank you.”
With a nod to where Christian sat, he checked his compass. “Anything to do with that fellow?”
Her shoulders sagged and she fought a yawn. “He hasn’t moved.”
“Stubborn, then.”
She shot him a quizzical look, but he gazed out over the open sea.
His spyglass hung from his belt and she snatched it and marched to the stern.
In dawn’s early light, the water glistened lavender.
This was usually her favorite time of day.
Most mornings, she would climb up to the crow’s nest to watch the sunrise in its entirety.
Maybe not today, however. The sore muscles of her feet and back ached for the soft sheets of her bed. First, she raised the spyglass and scanned the horizon. Her stomach clenched as she swept her gaze back and forth.
Nothing.
Bed, then.
She climbed down to the main deck and shot Christian a glare. “Do you ever sleep?”
He stood and stretched his arms above his head, the movement tugging his shirt up to reveal a swath of his waist, tan and sprinkled with dark hair. “Someone had to keep an eye on you.”
With a huff, she dragged her eyes from him. “If you’re going to stay up here on the deck, you may as well make yourself useful. I don’t abide lazy crew or passengers.”
He strode toward her. “What would you have me do, Captain?”
She matched his steps backward until she reached the railing and he came to a stop in front of her.
If he meant to fluster her, it was working.
No. She wouldn’t cower to him. Straightening her back, she stood tall and waved a hand toward the deck. “Always plenty of cleaning to do. Ropes to be coiled. Sails to be repaired. I’m sure you know how to do at least one of those things.”
He nodded and ran his fingers along the railing. No. Stroked the railing.
When he glanced up, his eyes fairly smoldered. “I meant other things. Surely, you have other needs I can meet.”
Samantha’s mouth gaped. The nerve of him.
“While I’m sure your offer would have ladies of the land falling head over heels, your insinuations—or intentions—have no place on my ship.”
There. She’d said it without stammering. Without an inkling of the warmth that coiled in her belly at his words. Without revealing that yes, she did indeed have needs.
“Ladies of the land?” He snorted. “Very well, Captain.”
Still, the knowing look he shot her made her waver. Did he know just how much he affected her?
Arrogant man.
She fidgeted on her feet and turned to the sea to hide the nervous movement. Her fingers itched around the spyglass and she couldn’t help raising it again. Before she could put her eye to it, Christian’s hand closed over her own, tugging it down.
“Why are you so worried? Thorne has no reason to want to catch up with us. Or does he?” His eyes sharpened when she jerked around and he pulled out his compass.
“How did you get this?” When she remained silent, he took a step closer.
“While I’m flattered you found it in your heart to free me, I find it odd you paid Thorne a visit as well. Why risk it?”
She swallowed and stared at the compass as he flipped it open.
“What am I missing, Red?”
“I . . .”
His brows rose and he leaned closer. “You what?”
Words formed, then caught in her throat. If she told him . . .
If she told him, what did it matter?
So she straightened and met his emerald gaze. “I may have taken something of his.”
He stepped next to her and leaned over the rail. “What did you take, and why do I have a feeling this is going to make me regret coming along?”
She pulled her lip between her teeth as she mulled over the best story to tell him. In the end, she settled for the truth. Best to lay it all out in the open.
“You know that he was after my uncle’s map?”
When he turned toward her, his eyes had gone a fraction wider. “Don’t tell me . . .”
She hung her head. “I stole his half of the map.”
“Christ.”
He took a few steps away and pivoted back to her. “What were you thinking?”
Her hands balled into fists. “He doesn’t deserve that treasure.”
“Of course he doesn’t. That hardly warrants spiting him to ensure he comes after you. Only a fool would steal something like that.”
“A fool that has the other half of the map in her possession.”
A dark brow rose. Twitched. “You have it? Here?”
She nodded and he cursed, raking a hand through his already mussed locks. “So, you planned to take me on a treasure hunt with you?”
“Of course not. I’m not that foolish. We need to return to Savannah. Restock. Bring extra ships. Extra men.” She paused and threw his words back at him. “Only a fool would attempt to retrieve a treasure with Thorne on their trail. May as well hand it to him on a silver platter.”
“And where do I fit into your grand plan?” He spoke flatly, staring out to sea.
She crossed her arms. “You’re a pirate hunter. Why not take down the biggest name out there? Your notoriety would increase ten-fold. Imagine, Lieutenant Thompson takes down Captain Thorne. You’d be famous.”
He went still. The sounds of her life—her passion—filled the silence. Boards creaked and sails whistled over the slap of ropes and crashing waves.
His fingers drummed an unknown tune against the polished rail and he turned to face her. “And what of you, Red? What am I to do with you?”
Her throat went dry under his green gaze. “Leave me be.”
He laughed then, the sound brittle. “Leave you alone?” His hand left the rail and reached for her. She held her breath, unable to move as he angled toward her face. At the last moment, he halted the movement and let his hand fall aside.
The momentary spell over her broke and she took a step away from him, out of his reach. “I’ll promise not to pirate in American waters. If it helps.”
He snorted. “You should know by now I don’t put much stock in a pirate’s word.”
She flashed him a weak smile. “There’s a first time for everything.”
He bridged the distance between them again.
“Why should I trust you? Everything between us has been a lie.”
“Not everything.” The words slipped out before she could stop them and he stiffened. He knew exactly what she spoke of.
Heat rushed up her cheeks and she stuffed a hand into her pocket. A moment later, she waved Thorne’s half of the map in the small space between them. The old parchment fluttered in the wind.
“You can have it. Until we reach Savannah.”
He plucked the map from her fingers and unfolded it. “What use do I have for a tattered piece of paper? What does it gain me?”
She gave a harsh sigh. “It’s a gesture of goodwill, Lieutenant.”
Snatching the map back, she folded it and held out her hand. “Your compass.”
His brows drew together, but he handed it over, the metal warm from his grasp.
She lifted the lid and tucked the folded map into the body. When she handed it back to him, a weight lifted from her shoulders. Good riddance. Her hands suddenly burned with the need to lather up with soap and wash all remainders of Thorne away.
Christian stared at the tarnished brass for a long while before sliding his gaze back to her. He didn’t say anything, but his emerald eyes flashed in the morning sun. She hadn’t missed the sunrise after all.
A shout from above broke his silent scrutiny, and he slipped the compass into his pocket.
“Ship ahoy!”
Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Speak of the devil.”
Her stomach lurched as she rose the spyglass once more. Seeing the sails on the horizon sent bile up her throat. It could be anybody. But how many ships that size sailed the Caribbean?
Christian yanked the spyglass from her and took a look. With a growl, he lowered it. “You’ve got three, maybe four hours until he catches up.”
She was already on her way to the helm, panic clawing her gut. They already had every sail set. The masts wouldn’t support any more as it was.
“You can’t outrun him.”
She stiffened at Christian’s soft words.
Damn him for being right.
She spun to Griff. “Can we lose them in the outer shoals of The Bahamas?”
His grim face confirmed her doubts. “Nay. We’ll be lucky to even reach them by the time he catches up.”
A pain pressed against her temples. She should have killed Thorne—or at the very least, given him enough henbane to do the job for her. Her gaze slid to Christian. Or she could have listened to Griff and not wasted time rescuing the lieutenant and his crew.
Even an hour’s more of a head start would have given them a fighting chance.
But now? They were sitting ducks.