Destined for the pirate Beta

He did what ?

*Anne*

I look back out as the ship gives several creaks and moans. A sudden lurch, and it's moving slowly through the water.

"I was under the impression you had a fast ship," I say.

"Not when we are in the harbor. We have little moon by which to see. You could have hardly picked a worse night. A daytime departure would have been better." Captain Sam says.

I look at him. "Yet you don't try to convince me to hold off for a better time. Why ever not?"

"Because, Princess, I am not certain you have been quite honest with me, and you require a midnight departure for a reason." He c***s a brow.

He is studying me with such concentration that I am surprised my heart still manages to beat. "I have never lied to you."

"That doesn't mean you have been completely honest." He points out.

I can say the same about him. I nearly spun on my heel and headed in the other direction when I watched him swagger down the gangway. His face no longer sports a shadow of stubble. I thought he was handsome before, but cleanly shaven he is devastating. His hair is pulled back, tied in place with leather, and I dearly want to set it free. The light breeze billows his loose white shirt, somehow making him appear more masculine.

I can't remember the last time I looked at the male form and appreciated it. Not since Walter left. To gaze upon any man with even a hint of lust would have been betrayal to my betrothed. I can't claim what I feel now is lust, but it's definitely awareness. Acute awareness that is unsettling in its intensity. My stomach quivers, and I have a strong urge to sit.

Instead, I stand my ground. "As you so succinctly said, I don't know you well enough to tell you everything. But I swear to you that there is no danger."

"Pity. I thrive on danger." He says with a teasing voice.

"Yes, I quite imagine you do." I mumble.

We are moving farther from the docks. More shadows are weaving among us, and fog swirls about, challenging the ship's lanterns to hold it at bay. Water slaps against the hull. A peacefulness claims the night. I'm not certain how much he contributes to my serenity. Somehow I know he has the strength and skills to protect me from any peril that might come our way.

I hear flapping and glance back to see a sail unfurl. Soon the ship is gliding faster. Closing my eyes, I lean into the wind.

"Miss," Martha says.

"I'm all right, Martha," I tell her.

"Do you swim?" he asks.

I shake my head. "No, but I suspect you do. And you would jump in to save me, wouldn't you?"

"If the price is right." He answers.

Opening my eyes, I look over at him. He is smiling at me as though he enjoys the movement of the ship as much as I do. "I don't think you are quite the mercenary you claim to be."

"I never do anything without payment." He says.

"But if I drown, you won't get that kiss, will you?" I point out.

He grins. "Perhaps I should go ahead and take it."

My mouth goes dry. I knew he will want it, of course, that he would exact payment from me. I simply didn't expect it to be so soon. "I would like to see my cabin now."

"As you wish." He gives me a small bow of his head.

Once again, he offers me his arm, and while I want to ignore it, I'm not quite certain I can move about the rocking ship without tumbling. Just as before, I acknowledge the strength in his arm, the sturdiness of his movements. He has no trouble at all making his way about the ship.

I try to think of something to say, something to ease the tension that is suddenly mounting. I know where he is taking me, and I don't want to think about it. He won't be sleeping there, but he once had. I will lie in the bed where he had lain.

But my mind brings forth nothing inconsequential to utter as the enormity of this undertaking settles around me. My father would have my head if he knew what I am about. Fortunately, the coach driver and the servant have sworn not to reveal the name of the ship I have boarded. Not that I think my father could catch up with us.

We take the stairs down a level from the main deck. The captain opens a door. I take a deep breath to steady my thundering heart as I step through into the small quarters.

Two pieces of furniture dominate the space. His bed. I'm not surprised it's large. A man of his height and breadth would require a generous area in which to move about as he sleeps.

The other massive piece is a desk. Behind it are shelves. Books are lined perfectly along them. Dickens. Cooper. Shelley.

Martha joins me, and only then does he step inside. The room seems to shrink with his presence.

"You read," I say inanely.

He nods. "Boredom can easily find a home on a ship."

"Yes, I can imagine." Only I can't. I thought he would have little time for me, that he would be steering the vessel, but obviously he has others to handle such matters.

"The room next to this one is where my first mate sleeps. It's available to your maid." He says.

I spin around to face him. "There was no need to go to such a bother. I had planned on her staying with me."

His eyes glitter. "If you wish."

"I do." I comfirm.

He gives a curt nod. "Is there anything else you need before I leave you to your dreams?"

I nod, swallow hard. "Martha, leave us for a moment."

Martha opens her mouth, and I give her a pointed glare. I will tolerate no mutiny. Martha snaps her mouth closed and walks toward the hallway.

"Shut the door after you." I tell her.

She slams it.

"She doesn't approve of this journey," he says.

"She is just protective." Removing my cape, I set it carefully over the desk. I meet and hold his gaze. "I thought you might like your payment before we are too far out to sea."

"Did you now?" In two long strides, he is near enough that his breath mingles with mine and I have to tilt my head back to continue to gaze into his warm hazel eyes. He rests his curled fingers in the curve of my cheek, his thumb stroking my lower lip.

My tongue slips out on its own accord to lick where he touches and I could have sworn I taste the saltiness of his skin. His eyes darken. He has such incredibly long lashes. Their ebony shade frames his eyes perfectly.

He leans in.

I hold my breath.

His gaze drops to my lips.

They tingle slightly.

He lifts his eyes to mine.

I wait, wait...

He comes nearer. My eyes begin closing…

"The moment is of my choosing, Princess. And this isn't it. Sleep well." He mumbles.

Grinning, he tweaks my nose, spins on his heel, and strides from the room.

If I could draw in a breath past my fury, I would shriek at him. Martha rushes in. "Oh, dear Goddess, what did he do?"

"Nothing." He tweaked my nose! I'm not about to admit that. Doesn't he want to kiss me? Has he changed his mind? I drop onto the edge of the bed and stare at the closed door. I pop back up. "He told me to sleep well. I will show him. I shall accomplish that with remarkable success."

As we prepare for bed, we are both surprised to find warm water in the basin. Obviously, the captain had someone prepare the room before we came down. The bedding is crisp, freshly laundered, but when I climb onto the bed, the spicy scent of Crimson Sam rises around me.

Martha blows out the lamp and crawls in beside me, but we have enough room between us that we don't touch. I don't want to consider that the bed has been specially designed to accommodate the captain's size and a woman lying in his arms.

"I think my brother might have been mistaken," Martha whispers. "I think this captain might be a very dangerous man."

"If he were dangerous, he would have locked that door, and he… not you… would be in this bed with me." I point out.

In the darkness, I listen to the creaking of the ship. But I don't sleep. Instead, I wonder why he can so easily resist kissing me. And why I wish he would just get it over with.