Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (49 page)

Captain Cecco made it real for Smee just then. “Mr. Smee. I regret that it will be necessary for you to give up your keys. As bo’sun, you must have your own set which can be made, along with a set for me, next time we are in port. But as first mate, Mr. Yulunga must carry these keys now.”

“Aye, Sir.” Smee reached into his pocket. “Here you are, Mr. Yulunga; the keys to the shackles, the armory, the brig…and to the master’s quarters.” His voice had lowered, but showing no other hint of his reluctance, he tossed the key ring.

It jingled as Yulunga caught it. “Thank you, Mr. Smee.”

Watching Smee’s face, Jill kept her own features neutral. For both of them, the missing set of keys was a painful reminder of Hook’s disappearance. She felt another layer of security strip itself away as Hook’s officer relinquished the key to her quarters to this disquieting sailor. Although Cecco trusted Mr. Yulunga, Jill couldn’t help but shiver as she remembered the man’s history and his suggestion yesterday that she make herself available to the men. On top of that, her own recommendation blocked his pursuit of Liza. Jill welcomed the distraction when Cecco clasped her hand, addressing his men once again.

“The last order of business concerns Red-Handed Jill. I want it to be understood by you, my officers, and you will make it clear to all aboard. Unless the lady’s orders conflict with my own, she is to be obeyed immediately, and without question.”

Cecco looked intently at each man in turn, receiving from every one an “Aye, Captain,” before moving on. When he was satisfied, he prepared to dismiss them. “Good. As this ransom scheme is perhaps too subtle to satisfy the crew, I wish to take a prize at the first opportunity. Be ready.

“Mr. Yulunga, escort the lady from our quarters. You will then bring the surgeon to me and remain with us while we come to terms. And see that he brings his instruments.” Cecco stood, assisting Jill to rise. After pressing a kiss into her hand, he smiled into her sparkling eyes. “I believe the surgeon’s medicine bag holds the cure to all our ailments.”

§ § §

His body was perfect. Even asleep, he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. The only man, except for Tom, she’d ever touched. As Liza lay beside Hook, she touched him now.

Listening for signs of impending interruption, she paused a moment, but she heard only the water on the hull and the crooning of the
Roger
’s beams. The hour was well past lunchtime, and no sailors hung about the galley. Her curious fingers continued their exploration, following the outline of her master’s muscular arms, and then she pulled up his shirt and spread her fingers over his chest, feeling the coarse black hairs rough over his smooth skin. She ran her hands down to his waist, and then around to his back. It was smooth, too, and the least bit damp with perspiration. Pressing her lips to his stomach, she kissed him, and the warmth of his flesh made her mouth tingle. His salty, leathery scent filled her lungs as she breathed him in.

She sat up, grimacing because of the bruises on her thighs and, once again, drew his sleeve above his wrist. Beneath the fine lace of his cuff, his wound emerged, a repulsive gash of scarred, misshapen flesh. Liza had cringed and squinted the first time, but it was easier to look at now. One day she would touch it.

Having his hand cut off must have been excruciating. How had he endured it? And the tattoos— how much pain had they caused him? During the commotion yesterday, as the men elected a new captain, she’d had plenty of time to study the image of the grinning Jolly Roger on his upper arm before her father replaced his shirt, and now she used her opportunity to gaze on the mermaid above his severed wrist. She wondered if it was tattooed on his arm before the loss of his hand, or after.

The sea creature was enchanting. She looked like Jill. Like Liza! The girl had paid attention to her mirror. As Jill had predicted, Liza blossomed like an exotic bloom in the unconstrained environment of the pirate ship. She lacked only one experience to make her a woman. Her father hadn’t remembered, but this was her birth month, and she was giving herself that experience as a present. She was unwrapping it now!

If only he were awake, they could pick up where they left off, before her father came bursting in. Shuddering, Liza recalled the sickening crack of the cane against her master’s skull, worse to hear than the smack across her legs later in the night. It was her fault Hook had been struck. When he woke, he might be angry with her. But Liza
had
intended to lock the door. In the excitement of the moment she had forgotten. The locked door wouldn’t have made much difference anyway, except that Hook would have killed her father if he’d heard him coming. Liza wasn’t sure if she preferred it that way or this way, with the captain in her bed and all to herself. At least she didn’t have to share him with the mistress anymore. Jill had her own man. Liza didn’t really care if Jill’s man was Captain Cecco or her father. Liza had Hook.

The doctor made sure the pirate was asleep before he left on Cecco’s summons, and although she hoped otherwise, Liza believed Hook wouldn’t come to consciousness for a long while. Taking his face in her hands as she had seen Jill do, she kissed him— because she could, because he was beautiful. Because he was hers. Maybe, as in a fairy tale, he would awaken to true love’s kiss. She smirked at the idea, scorning its childishness. She was old enough to know such stories never came true. It wasn’t her love, but her desire to serve that would earn this man’s attention.

Sliding her hands lower, she stroked the unshaven whiskers on his jaw and on his neck. This throat was the source of the velvety voice that intoxicated her— silent now, to her sorrow. Had he heard her own voice calling to him as he slipped into unconsciousness? If her sound had pleased him, she must talk for him again, but she would wait until he commanded her to speak, for she had heard her father’s admonition many times; an intelligent woman holds her tongue. Then, banishing the thought of her father, Liza brushed her fingers over the short black beard and mustache that shaped themselves neatly around Hook’s mouth. Rubbing her cheek against him, she gloried in the way the bristles scraped her skin. Every touch of him informed her— he felt like a man should feel.

And Liza felt like a woman. Last night when her father had finally fallen asleep, she shucked off her nightdress and nestled against the captain. Careful not to rattle his chains, she had settled one aching leg on top of his and lain on his chest, listening to his heart beating, strong and slow, feeling his lungs rise and fall under her breasts. His long wavy hair sifted silkily through her fingers until, in the earliest light, she dressed herself again. When her father checked on her, she was lying on the edge of the bunk, as ordered, with a rolled up blanket between them, so that he wouldn’t carry out his initial threat of making her sleep in the spare cabin. But Liza wasn’t worried about that notion. She knew her father dreaded any change in routine that might draw questions from their shipmates. Everything had to seem normal; Captain Hook was their secret. And Liza would seize her chances. After her master had made love to her, it would be too late for her father to do anything about it, and Liza would belong to Hook forever. If only she could awaken him, he could take her now!

Liza drew his arm toward her. It was heavy, made more so by the chain that bound him. Pulling his hand close, she freed up the links, extending their reach. Their music amused her as she worked one of his rings off his fingers. She lay back and tried the ring on her own hand. The extravagant jewel bobbled loosely around her finger. Wondering what had become of her pearls, Liza decided it didn’t really matter. The little ring used to bring her comfort, in memories of her mother. Now, having seen more of the world, Liza recognized how weak her mother had been. Long before she died, the woman had abandoned Liza; the life had left her delicate frame, dwindling as her husband developed his contacts and found rich investors in his product— and employed that product, increasingly, on his wife. Although Liza’s mother paid the ultimate price for her husband’s success, she and Liza had become secondary, mere pretexts for the great doctor’s career.

Playfully, Liza twirled Hook’s big ring. No, the little pearls didn’t matter at all. After Liza’s plans became reality, she would have plenty of chances to earn richer treasures, like this one. She admired the ring. Raising herself up on one elbow, she watched it sparkle as her fingers toyed with his earring, too. Appraising its golden filigree, she decided that she would pierce her own ears soon. As soon as Mr. Yulunga gave her the earrings he promised this morning. He’d started in provoking her when he noticed that her pearls were gone. Then, with his black eyes shining and his face one wide, menacing smile, he tormented her about delivering the lady’s orders to him, pretending he didn’t understand Liza’s signals.

But it would be worth more of his teasing to show off a fine set of earrings. And his voice was so low and rich, quite pleasant to hear. Yulunga was good-looking in an unusual way, and much bigger than her captain. Like Hook, he had scars— Liza envied the slash-mark cut by the master’s claw on his shoulder, showing plainly to whom he belonged— and he bore circles all around his ankles and wrists, scored into his mahogany skin by the shackles of his slave days. His chest was satiny, with no hair upon it at all. His flesh would feel different from Hook’s. Maybe tomorrow, if she smiled at Yulunga, his fluid voice would grant her permission to touch him, and she could compare. The idea of touching him made her salivate. Her mind whirled to think of it.

And then Liza lost the train of her thoughts, because directly under her chin, a pair of blue eyes blazed into awareness, and the chain jangled as his hand snapped up to seize her by the throat and press her backward into the pillow.

Hook was awake. And angry.

§ § §

The tip of the quill scratched over the paper. Hanover finished with a flourish. Jabbing the pen into its stand, he stood proudly. “There you have it, Captain Cecco. My signature in your book.” He faced the Italian, tugging his waistcoat into place. “I hope there will be no more distrust between us.”

Seated comfortably in his chair behind the desk, Cecco smiled. “None at all. I now have complete confidence in my ship’s surgeon. I am certain you will serve me to the best of your abilities.”

“And I am certain you will prove an admirable captain.” Hanover had mastered his resentment; a cool head would best accomplish his purpose.

“Having witnessed your discomfort in the port of Gao, I am sure you are relieved that there will be no more need for the shackles in your quarters.”

Hanover startled and blinked. “You…you intend to have them removed, then?”

The doctor was not as free as he imagined, and Cecco was pleased that the girl provided an excuse to preserve the means to restrain him. “I apologize, Doctor, but I intend to leave the manacles. My lady has had occasion to confine your daughter before, and the girl’s behavior last night has caused us to doubt her obedience.” He indicated a chair. “Please, sit down and have a drink with me while we discuss the situation.”

With a brusque “Thank you,” Hanover sat down. Yulunga offered a cup of wine, and the gentleman accepted it. Hanover cast a look around the master’s quarters, lingering fondly on the window seat on which Jill had granted him little liberties. He remembered the taste of the red strawberries, and the sweeter taste of her matching fingertips. When summoned by Cecco, Hanover had hoped Jill would be present at this interview. He was soon disappointed. Only a trace of her perfume lingered in her quarters, but it was enough to keep hope alive that she might return at any moment, and as Yulunga had indicated a need for the medicine bag, Hanover believed the lady had contrived an excuse to speak with him again. Perhaps she was already changing her mind about Captain Cecco. Perhaps she required more of the sleeping draught. And whether this was the case or no, how pleased she would be that, at last, her lover had signed on with her pirates!

For Hanover had determined. He
would
be her lover— in every respect— as soon as he could find a way to get her alone. After much soul-searching, he had determined that no honor could be lost by consummating their alliance now. Already tarnished by her liaisons with two pirate captains, the woman was far from innocent, and her fiancé had every intention of marrying her in the end. If making love to her hastened that moment, Hanover would possess her at the very next opportunity, drawing her into his power and salvaging his pride at the same time. And, by now, he knew better than to ask her permission first. Just like two of the other pirates who had signed that book, he would simply take her.

Captain Cecco studied his ship’s surgeon before the pleasant atmosphere dissolved. Although the man must be roiling inside, his generous lips were smiling, and he looked much the same as always. Today he wore the gray suit. Tomorrow he would find it necessary to wear the beige. Sealed primly shut, the medicine bag sat by the doctor’s soft leather shoes. On the man’s cheek the dueling scar stood prominent, and his sandy hair was pulled back, secured by the black ribbon, as if the physician was concerned with keeping every hair in place. Cecco’s gypsy instincts alerted him to the removal of the wedding ring on the very day it happened, the first day in the port of Gao, when he had guarded Hanover in his quarters, watching as the doctor twisted his confusion into rage— and then repressed it.

But the cause of that rage, Captain Hook, was now gone. Hanover’s most recent anger had been directed toward Jill and Cecco. To his credit, he seemed to have released his grudge. With Yulunga in attendance, Cecco began to test the man’s limits.

“Doctor Hanover, on the subject of your daughter. Jill is distressed to discover that the girl may be more trouble than her service is worth. The men inform me of a boldness in her demeanor, and you are already aware of last night’s indiscretion. I am certain you interpreted my lady’s courageous command to leave our door open as a symbolic gesture. We did not intend for our intimacies to be observed.”