Loud voices above and the gentle forward heave of the ship stirred Charlisse from her thoughts. She rushed to the window, anxious to resume the journey to Port Royal, but distressed for the galleon's fate. Not that she harbored any fondness for the Spanish, but she certainly wished them no harmespecially not at the hands of this merciless band of scoundrels.
It occurred to her that she had an unwarranted confidence in Merrick's abilities to capture the galleon. With his taste still on her lips, she lay back on the bed, feeling helpless in many wayshelpless to stop the c*****e, helpless to make her way to Port Royal and find her father, and helpless under the spell Merrick had cast upon her. Helplessness had been an all-too-familiar guest in her heart for too many yearsthe kind of guest wh
