To Catch a Pirate (6 page)

A chair scraped across the floor as Nathaniel came to his feet. “See here, Sterling!”

“You’re not shackled,” she said lamely.

“Picked the locks. Can’t stand being in chains.”

She snatched her hand free of his. “And the lock to your cell door?”

“That one remains a mystery to me.”

She didn’t believe it. Not for one moment.

She heard a thump, and suddenly Nathaniel had Sterling by the front of his shirt, jerked him out of the chair, and slammed him against the cabin wall. She heard Sterling grunt, whether from the impact or the pressure of wood against his cuts, she did not know.

“Nathaniel!”

She moved to break them apart, only to find Nathaniel still, his eyes wide, because even though he held Sterling, Sterling pressed a pistol beneath Nathaniel’s chin. Nathaniel’s pistol. Sterling had no doubt snagged it when Nathaniel had pushed him against the wall.

“Tell him to back off, m’lady,” Sterling ordered.

“Nathaniel, release him.”

“Not until he drops the pistol.”

“Then we’re at a standoff, mate,” Sterling said. “I’m not giving up my advantage. I’ll not feel the bite of the cat again.”

“We’re not at a standoff,” Annalisa said. “Nathaniel, I order you to release him. Sterling, I order you to lower the pistol. Both of you, on the count of three. One, two, three.”

Nathaniel dropped his arms to his side. But the pistol remained beneath his chin.

“Sterling, I brought you here to offer you an opportunity to be part of this crew,” Annalisa said.

He slid his gaze over to her. At least she had his interest.

“First you capture me, threaten me with hanging, then you take a cat-o’-nine to me, and now you want to make me part of your crew?”

“We need your help to find the treasure. We tried bullying you. That obviously didn’t work.”

“So you thought to sweeten me up?”

“I thought to approach you with a bit more civility. You can’t escape. And if you shoot him, I’ll give my life to see you hanged.”

He seemed surprised by her response. “Do you care about him that much?”

“He’s part of my crew. I care about my crew.”

Without a word, he lowered the pistol, tossed it up, caught it by the barrel, and extended it toward her. She took it from him. “Thank —”

Before she could finish, Nathaniel’s fist snapped Sterling’s head back. His skull cracked against the wall. With a groan, he slumped to the floor.

“Nathaniel!” She scolded him fiercely before kneeling beside Sterling. She tried to convince herself that she’d show the same concern toward any man who was hurt. That the concern she was now expressing for this man was not out of the ordinary. “Are you all right?”

Sterling shoved himself into a sitting position and leaned against the wall. He pressed the back of his hand against his bleeding lower lip. “Couldn’t be better.”

“Let me see.”

She raised her hand and he shoved it away.

“Don’t touch her, you vile dog!” Nathaniel ordered.

The ship suddenly roiled. Nathaniel teetered, trying to catch his balance. Annalisa had no opportunity to catch herself before she toppled into Sterling’s lap, the pistol flying from her hand to land beyond reach. Because he was braced against the wall, he was as steady as a rock, his arms strong as they came around her.

“I think I could learn to enjoy storms,” he said, grinning arrogantly.

“Unhand me.”

“Or what, m’lady?”

Reaching down, she snatched the knife from inside her boot and had it at his throat before he realized what she was about. She took keen satisfaction in watching his smile dim. “I’ll have you flogged again.”

Suddenly, the pistol was pressed against Sterling’s temple. Nathaniel had apparently not only recovered from his spill but recovered the pistol as well. “Release her.”

“Do you treat all your dinner guests so rudely?” Sterling asked.

“Only the thieves. Now release her.”

“If he kills me, you’ll never get what you want,” Sterling said.

“I’ll take my chances,” she said.

Just as he loosened his hold, the ship tilted again. Nathaniel staggered backward and landed with a thud on his backside, and Annalisa found herself held even more tightly. To her horror, blood trailed down Sterling’s throat. She’d accidentally cut him. “Oh, dear Lord! You’re bleeding!”

“Don’t fret over it. I consider a bit of bloodletting a fair trade to hold you in my arms.”

“Oh, you arrogant dolt!” She pressed against him. To her surprise, she came free of his hold quite easily.

The ship dipped again, and Annalisa scurried back. She heard the groaning as though the ship was protesting its treatment by the sea. “The storm’s worsening.”

She tucked the knife back into her boot, then scrambled to her feet. The ship lurched and she grabbed the table to steady herself and prevent her fall. It was bolted to the floor, unlike the chairs, which scattered across the planked flooring.

“We’re going to have to get him back into the brig,” Nathaniel said.

“Don’t be daft, man,” Sterling said. “You’re going to need all the help you can get up top.”

“You’re mad if you think we’re going to trust you. You’ll slit our throats first chance you get.”

Sterling jerked his gaze to her. “I plan to escape, but not during a storm that’ll capsize a small boat. And I don’t fancy being shipwrecked.” He shoved against the wall, pushing himself up until he was standing. “I’m worth my salt up top.”

“I’ll have your word that you’ll fight the storm and not us,” she said.

“You can’t honestly believe you can trust him,” Nathaniel said.

She knew she shouldn’t trust Sterling. He was, after all, a pirate. And they’d not treated him particularly well.

“Your word,” she repeated. “Even though I can’t see it or hold it in my hand, I do believe it is of value. If you give it to me, I shan’t throw it in your face.”

“You have it.”

“How do you know you can trust him?” Nathaniel shouted.

“Because I can’t swim, mate. I’ll make my escape when the waters are calm.”

She didn’t have time to consider the absurdity of a pirate who couldn’t swim or reflect further on the wisdom of trusting him. He’d managed to free his hands, but his ankles were still bound by the chains. “Unshackle him.”

“Anna —”

“Do it!”

With a harsh breath, Nathaniel did her bidding, kneeling at Sterling’s feet, key in hand. She thought she could almost read the thoughts crossing through Sterling’s mind — that perhaps he could get away with kicking Nathaniel.

“Don’t even consider it,” she warned.

He shifted his gaze to her, grinned his devilish grin.

The shackles clanked as they hit the floor. Stepping away, Sterling opened the door, stopped, and glanced back over his shoulder. “You should stay here, m’lady.”

Then he disappeared, bounding down the short hallway. A shiver went through Annalisa as she remembered the last time he’d disappeared and the terror she’d felt then. It wasn’t so different from what she felt now. Only this time, she had no intention of hiding.

She hurried after him, the ship bucking like an untamed horse. She lost her footing once, twice, but finally made it to the doorway. The wind had caught the door when Sterling went through it, holding it open as though the storm was inviting them out to play.

She watched in horror as huge swells crashed over the sides of the ship, knocking men off their feet. They scrabbled to latch onto anything that would keep them anchored.

She felt Nathaniel’s presence behind her. Glancing back, she could read the hesitation in his face. He slid his gaze to her. “Stay here, Anna. The strength of the waves will wash you overboard.”

“I could tie a rope —”

“Stay here! I can’t save the ship if I’m worried about saving you.”

He wound an arm around her waist, drew her close, bent his head, and kissed her. Hard.

Then, like James Sterling, he was gone.

To fight the storm.

She heard him shouting the order to batten down. She watched as men began hammering closed hatches. She watched as others climbed the rigging, to secure the sails. They were all risking their lives.

And she wasn’t. She couldn’t ask of them what she wasn’t willing to do.

Stepping out onto the deck, she was immediately caught by the strong gale and smashed against the railing, the breath knocked out of her. She fell to her knees.

Struggling for breath, she glanced up and saw Sterling at the helm. The lightning flashed, outlining the concentration on his face. She looked in the direction he was gazing, and her stomach roiled as forcefully as the ocean.

A wall of water had reared up … and there was no escaping it!

Bloody hell, but it hurt being dead!

James didn’t think there was a single part of him that wasn’t in agony. Battered and bruised from head to toe. Well, maybe his little toe had been spared. He wiggled it. No, it hurt, too.

What a miserable way to spend eternity!

Although it occurred to him that the very fact that he was in pain might mean he wasn’t dead after all.

He’d been at the helm, working with that jackanapes quartermaster, trying to turn the ship, when he’d seen Anna go down. And when had he begun thinking of her as Anna? Perhaps when he’d seen her ankles. It had seemed an intimacy far more personal than sharing a kiss.

But seeing her slammed into the deck of the ship, he’d known she wouldn’t have the strength to hold on when the wave crashed down on them. He’d left his post and thrown himself around her, shielding her and holding on to the ropes securing the rainwater barrel to the side of the ship. He remembered the lash of the wave, as brutal as any beating he’d ever been given. And the scent of strawberries. Even in the raging storm, he’d somehow smelled her.

He smelled her still.

Felt something cool brush lightly across his brow.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

And there she was. Wiping his brow with a look of tenderness the likes of which he’d never seen. At least not since his mother had sold him to Crimson. And why him? He’d not been the oldest of her brood. Two were older; three were younger. Nor had he been the one who ate the most. That honor had gone to his oldest brother, who’d been known to steal gruel from James’s bowl when their mother wasn’t looking. He’d tried to be a good son. But she’d sold him anyway.

“Sterling?”

Annalisa’s soft voice prodded him back from memories he preferred keeping locked away. He was no mother’s son. No father’s, either. He made his way by stealth and cunning. His only dream — too sweet a word for the hunger that gnawed at him — was to be captain of his own ship. The captain took orders from no man. And while a mutiny might result in his death, until that time no one would ever beat him. He was protected from those who awoke in a foul mood.

He tried to gauge his surroundings. He seemed to be in a berth, cushioned by softness. He’d been here before.

“I seem to have found my way back into your bed.” His voice sounded hoarse and his throat felt raw when he spoke.

He’d hoped for a bit of a smile. Instead, she furrowed her brow. “Here, try to drink some water.”

Slipping an arm beneath his head, she raised him up a bit before placing a glass against his lips. The water soothed going down. He realized the ship was no longer rocking. The storm must have passed. It always amazed him how he could look on a sea after a storm and find no evidence of its passing. If he ever had a ship of his own, he wanted to be like the storm. Attack, then disappear. Leaving those who survived in awe, forever referring to the powerful and mighty pirate who’d had the cunning to disappear as though he’d never been there.

Annalisa moved the glass away. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got in a fight with the devil.”

She laughed lyrically. “That’s as good a way to describe what we went through as anything, I suppose.”

She was wearing a green dress now, instead of the blue. Her hair was pulled back, held in place with a ribbon. A bruise marred her cheek.

“You’re hurt.” It was difficult to tell with the scratchiness of his voice if he was asking a question or stating a fact.

“Not as badly as I might have been, if you hadn’t …” Her voice trailed off and she looked at her hands, clasped in her lap. She was sitting in a narrow chair. This portion of the captain’s cabin barely had room for that. She lifted her gaze. “You saved my life.”

He was uncomfortable with the gratitude he saw in her eyes. “Don’t make me out to be a hero, m’lady. I was watching out for my own skin. Your Mr. Northrup would just as soon hang me from the highest yardarm. You, on the other hand, have an interest in keeping me alive.”

“That interest is dwindling, Mr. Sterling, since you refuse to help me.”

Her voice was tart, and he couldn’t deny that he much preferred her sparring with him. Much safer that way, easier to keep his distance. He’d loved his mum and she’d sold him. As daft as it sounded, he suspected he’d loved Crimson as well. He’d been the closest thing James had to a father. But Crimson had marooned him. All because of a piece of jewelry.

“Offer me something more valuable than my freedom.”

“There is nothing more valuable than your freedom.”

“Freedom I can acquire on my own. Offer me something I can’t.”

She shoved back her chair, stood, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re quite arrogant, you know that?”

“It’s the pirate in me.”

“You are my prisoner. I hold your fate in my hands.”

“You owe me, m’lady. Twice now.” He held up two fingers to make his point. “The first time in the hold —”

“They didn’t kill my father.”

“And I daresay they’d not have killed you, but you’d have wished they had when they were finished with you.”

She blanched, her face growing pale. He didn’t know what possessed him to challenge her at every turn. He was in danger of losing what he most wanted to acquire.

“I won’t tell you where Crimson is,” he said, “but I’ll take you to him. If I consider the trade fair.”

“And what would make the trade more fair than giving you your life?”

“The quartermaster’s cabin.”

She blinked and slowly unfolded her arms. “Pardon?”

“I don’t want to be kept in the brig, nor do I want to sleep in crowded, squalid conditions where the regular crewmen stay.” He nodded, taking a fancy to the idea. “I want a comfortable berth. The quartermaster’s cabin will do nicely.”

“Over my dead body.” Suddenly, Northrup was standing in the doorway.

James hated realizing that perhaps he’d been eavesdropping, that he’d heard everything spoken. “That can be arranged,” he said cockily, only too eager to make his claim a reality.

“Enough, you two. The squabbling has to stop,” Annalisa said.

“I’m the quartermaster, Anna,” Northrup said. “I’ll not sleep with the men. They’ll lose all respect for me. I can’t command without respect.”

James was surprised to discover that he didn’t like the way she looked at Northrup, the soft smile she gave him, the way she reached out and squeezed his hand.

“Set up a hammock in your quarters. Give him the bed. Please, Nathaniel. You know how much this means to me. And it’s just for a short time.”

Northrup narrowed his eyes at James. James saw his jaw tighten. He thought if they spent much time in each other’s company, he’d have the quartermaster grinding his teeth down to nubs. He took perverse pleasure in the notion.

Northrup looked back at Anna, touched her cheek with a familiarity that caused James’s stomach to tighten. He’d seen his mates pull wenches he’d been flirting with onto their laps, and he’d not been bothered. Why was he bothered by something passing between Anna and Northrup that seemed so … inconsequential?

“For you, Anna. I’ll do it for you,” Northrup said.

She gave him a soft smile, the type of smile James knew she’d never give to him. One of fondness, one of caring. He turned his head away. It was difficult to watch this awkward encounter between them, to realize that Anna held some affection for the man. James wasn’t certain why he cared. He knew only that he did.

A rather unfortunate realization.