Within a Captain's Treasure (8 page)

Back in her speck of a cabin, Alice finished off the rum from last night. She was wound tighter than a child’s spinning top. Pacing in a room three strides deep only added to her growing frustration until she flopped into her cot with a groan and covered her eyes with her arm. She had to stop this ridiculous thinking. Her. A pirate? And the captain? When had flirting with him become an option? Gavin Quinn was about as attracted to her as a mule was attracted to a moth.

She played out the comic scene of seduction in her mind. After a day of swashbuckling and pillaging, she’d return to their luxurious cabin, lush with carved oak furniture and deep feather ticking upon the large, four-posted bed. Stripping out of her battle-stained clothing, she’d stand naked before the finely painted pitcher and bowl to bathe, creating handfuls of silky bubbles from the thick bar of perfumed soap.

Gavin would enter. His pistols still smoking from the battle. Not a hair out of place. His gaze taking in the scene before him. A look of pure, heated lust spreading across his handsome face. Crossing the room in two wide strides, he’d take the sponge from her hand and toss it heedlessly over one shoulder. His fingers would spread a swath of rich suds across the curve of her breast. She’d melt beneath his touch. Arch her back and sigh.

All at once he’d be naked. His clothing vanishing as if by magic. She’d boldly appraise his manly gifts. There’d be a mere second of disenchantment. Confusion. Uncertainty. Weren’t men’s…um…
shoulders
supposed to be…bigger? Hard to envision, not knowing. The other maids in Weatherington used to boast about their lovers girth. Hung like a horse did not describe what she was imagining. She always suspected they lied. How would men’s pants fit if they were sporting huge barnyard appendages? Besides, size didn’t matter, did it? He was perfect in every other way. Given her lack of experience, whatever size his
shoulders
happened to be would be more than adequate. Who wanted a horse anyway? No her. This fantasy had taken an odd turn. Alice rubbed a weary hand over her eyes. Where was she? Oh, yes… Naked. Soapy.

Sweeping her into his arms, he’d place her on the bed and lay his body next to hers. She imagined golden hair carpeting his chest and she’d rake her fingers through the crisp curls while his hand continued to caress her breast. “Kiss me,” he’d whisper, “I order you.”

“Aye, aye, my captain….”

His mouth would lower toward hers with a slowness that was shear torture. It would make her ache with the desire to taste his lips upon hers. Arching her back she’d rise up desperate to end the torment of waiting. Feeling his warm breath brush across her mouth, her lips would part in sublime anticipation.

A blast of cannon fire lifted Alice from her cot. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest. Sweat made her clothes cling to her. She trembled as a rush flooded her limbs. Good God, they were under attack.

The scene on deck was a familiar one, like a recurring nightmare. But instead of the
Scarlet Night
being the one under attack, the brilliance of red sails told her they were the ones attacking. An unfortunate ship had crossed their path, and their crew was doing their best to fight them off.

“Fire!” The roar of the port-side cannons made her ears ring. Pirates filled the rigging of the
Scarlet Night
, their howls and screams raising the hairs on the back of her neck. They were a frightening swarm of bloodthirsty men waiting for their chance to lay claim to the other ship.

Red smoke curled around her boots. The smell of sulfur burned in her nose as each cannon was swabbed, reloaded, pricked, and maneuvered back into place. Powder monkeys ran sacks of black powder waiting for the next round of fire. The entire procedure like a well-choreographed dance.

Through the chaos, Quinn stormed toward her. “Get below.”

In the bow, Robbins maneuvered his cannon and fired a shot across the other ship’s bow. Alice ducked. “I can fight.”

Quinn shook his head. “Not on my ship.”

“You’ve seen me in battle.”

“I’ve seen you swing blindly and get lucky. Go below.” He grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him as he drew his sword.

The two ships moved closer. Boarding ladders swung into place. The crew began firing smoke pots onto the other deck to disorient their prey as they shot their muskets into the fog.

She tugged at him. “Give me a weapon and I’ll prove you wrong.”

Gavin growled through clenched teeth. “I’ve no time to argue with a bullheaded woman, get below, that’s an—”

“Oh my God, Bump.” Alice caught sight of the boy scrambling up the rigging.

Gavin followed her line of sight. “He’s high and away from the battle.”

Her jaw dropped at his lack of concern. “High and away?”

The crew started to swing across the open water to drop down upon the deck of the other ship. The battle was on. Through the smoke, the clang of blade meeting blade rang out.

“I’ll not tell you again—” He pointed toward the ladder way.

The fight intensified. The other crew was not backing down. Several made it past the initial flood of pirates and fought their way onto the decks of the
Scarlet Night
. Quinn pulled his cutlass and a long dirk from his boot and ordered again over his shoulder. “Go.”

Alice hadn’t taken her eyes off the child clinging to the rigging. Her heart clogged her throat. Either the child would fall to his death or be killed by a random shot. She had to get him down and to safety.

“Bump, come down,” she shouted above the fray. What was the use? The boy couldn’t hear her. She’d have to go up after him. Before she could get there, another had taken notice of the lad and had same idea, but this man was not a member of the
Scarlet Night
crew. He pulled a dagger, narrowed his gaze, and began to climb for the child.

Panic roared in her head drowning out the bedlam of the battle around her. Her vision tunneled. Rushing to Quinn’s side, she dodged the swing of his left arm as he finished off his opponent. She yanked one of his pistols from his baldric, turned, aimed and fired. Bump’s attacker fell against the net of rigging before dropping to the deck. She shoved the smoking gun into her belt. The heat of the barrel scorched her blouse and burned her skin, but her only thought was to get to the boy before he lost his hold and careened to the deck below.

Quinn grabbed for her. She wrenched herself from his grasp and rushed across the deck. His angry shouts followed her, but somehow Bump had seen her and she didn’t stop until the child was safely in her arms.

Turning, she met Quinn’s furious glare with one of her own. He yanked his pistol from her belt and balled the front of her blouse in his fist.

“My cabin, and stay there, or I’ll throw you from this ship.” He ground out the words through a clenched jaw. “Now.” He jerked her toward the ladder way before releasing her blouse.

Blood still pounded in her ears. Angry tears threatened. The battle on deck was drawing to a close, but the battle to come was going to be epic.

A lead ball zipped so close to his ear, the breeze brushed Quinn’s cheek. Lucky for him he had another loaded pistol strapped into his baldric, and he put a quick end to the man firing at him. Fury raged hot through his veins as the surrounding skirmish with the Spanish carrack reached its ultimate end. Victory was theirs.

In the end, thirty men begged quarter. They’d lost ten in battle, including their captain and first officer, and the decision was made that Tom Bellamy would assume command of the ship called
Ala de Cuervo
or
Raven Wing
. The rich bounty was secured and orders given to divide the spoils, see to the wounded, and set the sails of the
Scarlet Night
once more.

Quinn’s anger hadn’t lost any of its fiery edge as he stormed toward his quarters. The nerve of that…that
woman
. Had she been a man, he’d have her stripped, lashed to the mast, and be adding fifty stripes to her back. Her presence was treading on his last nerve. They were in the midst of a battle. Lives were at stake. Hers. Hell, his. If she continued to draw his attention, he was sure to die.

She’d already attracted too much of his notice every time she stepped topside. It was bad enough she continued to strut across his decks looking like some seafaring siren in britches and boots. He blessed and cursed her each time she left his company because, for the life of him, he could not stop himself from watching her walk away. The tilt of her backside, the sway of her hips, the stretch of her legs. He was powerless. And now this.

Slamming into his quarters, Quinn found Alice sitting with the lad who was asleep in his bed. When the door hit the wall, Alice sprang to her feet.

He planted his hands on his hips and shouted. “If you
ever
disobey an order given by me again, you will hit the water so fast you’ll think the ship disappeared beneath you.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “I was not going to stand by and let this child be killed.”

“This child is
my
responsibility.”

She cocked her head as if she hadn’t heard him properly. “And how responsible is it having a child on a pirate ship? How long has he been here? What possessed you to allow him aboard?”

Quinn threw his hat atop his desk. “I’m the captain of this ship. I don’t answer to you.”

When he turned to remove his baldric, she stepped in front of him. “Does it give you the right to put an innocent child in harm’s way?”

He snapped. “He wasn’t in harm’s way until you called attention to him.”

Alice flung her arms wide. “It was a good thing someone was paying attention. He’d be dead now.”

“You could both be dead now,” he bit out the words between clenched teeth.

“All I needed was a weapon, but again you’re too narrow-minded to listen to reason.”

Quinn slammed his baldric on its hook. “So you took mine.”

The chit had the decency to tuck her chin and look guilty before glaring at him again. “I did what I had to do.”

“I was in the middle of a battle.” His jaw ticked as his hands curled into fists. Had she been a man…

She shrugged a shoulder at him and looked away. “You weren’t using your pistol. I needed it. I took it.”

Forget flogging, she should be keel hauled. “You’re lucky you’re a woman.”

She spun back. “That has nothing to do with this argument.”

“It has
everything
to do with this argument. And it’s the only reason why I am not hanging you by your wrists and whipping the hide off your back,” he bellowed.

At his shout, she shot a looked over her shoulder as if checking to see if his yelling had woken Bump.

“He’s
deaf
.” Quinn flipped a hand at the boy.

Her green eyes flashed at him. “My point exactly.”

“And one of the reasons he’s here at all.” His jaw pulsed. It was a wonder his back teeth were still intact. “When I first saw him, he was bleeding, lying in the gutter amongst the filth in Port Royal.”

A frown softened her glare. “I remember seeing the urchins there.”

“A woman claiming to be his grandmother told me his name was William. She was too old and weak to protect him.” Quinn crossed to the bed and lifted the boy’s hair. A line of pink showed a fresh scar. “The older he got, the worse the beatings. She begged me to take him.” He tucked a blanket around the boy.

“Another week in Port Royal and he’d been dead. First week aboard, I was sure he’d die anyway. Sick, lost, unable to communicate. But he’s smart, and strong. He learns quickly. It surprises me how much he understands.”

“In battle, the most dangerous place for him is on deck. If he can’t get below, he’s been taught to climb the rigging. Others watch over him. It’s more than he had in Port Royal.”

Alice sat next to Bump and stroked his back. “The poor babe.”

“Don’t do that.” His words earned him another fiery glare. “Coddling won’t help him. This is his life now. He needs to be tough.”

Alice stood and crossed her arms over her chest and stood in the sassy way she had with one knee bent and one foot crossed over the other. She let out a long breath. “I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t expected an apology.

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m not so stubborn I can’t admit when I’ve been wrong. I acted on impulse.”

“And put both of you in greater danger.” He laid his pistols on his desk to be cleaned and reloaded.

When he looked back, she’d planted her hands on her hips. “Are we both alive and well?”

“Yes, but—”

She indicated the guns. “And did I, or did I not prove I could shoot a pistol to defend myself?” She notched that infuriating chin.

“A pistol you stole from me within a hairbreadth of the slice of my dirk.”

Alice held out both her arms and did a slow spin. “Am I cut?”

Quinn gave her a slow, thorough, head-to-blessed-boot evaluation. Warmth spread within him. “No,” he snapped. Was he talking to her, or giving himself a warning?

“Will you admit that perhaps you were wrong as well?” She cocked her chin.

“No.” Mimicking her stance from moments ago, He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a defiant chin.

“But—”

He dropped his hands and moved dangerously close shaking his head. “This is one argument you will never win.”

“Why not?”

He locked his gaze with hers. “I’m the
captain
.”

She opened her mouth to speak and Quinn did the only thing he could think to stop her. The thing he’d debated doing for days. The one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. He kissed her. Hard. Like a slow match to black powder, a flash of pure longing shot through him.

* * * *

Gavin folded the eleventh letter and returned it safely to its appointed envelope. He rubbed at his eyes before raking his hands into his unbound hair and holding his head to keep it from hitting his desk. What time was it? He didn’t care. It mattered not. Sleep would continue to elude him. Even now, closing his eyes, the rush of memory was still too vivid.

He’d kissed Alice Tupper to shut her up, but the moment his lips met hers, the inner turmoil of his mind and his body began to shout loud enough to drown out any rational thought. He’d shocked her at first. Holding her by her shoulders, his mouth had claimed hers. She pounded a fist to his chest a second before taking firm hold of his lapels and standing fast.