Page 24 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

The sack of hair was missing!

“And why are you carrying your wife’sclothing to America, Mr. Dubois?” Captain Shaw picked up the hair-filled sack.

Her heart stopped. She prayed he didn’t peel open the top. “Because I could not bring my wife.”

“Where is your lovely wife?” He tossed the sack into the center of the trunk.

“Buried in France.” She exhaled slowly, fighting the tears which gathered in her eyes, then closed and latched the lid, glancing up when she was finished.

Captain Shaw jerked the trunk from the floor, balancing the edge on his shoulder, and pointed the pistol at her again, then gestured toward the door.

“Grieve later, Mr. Dubois. We’re on a tight schedule.”

Alana stepped into the corridor, then stopped, her eyes searching for Mrs. Parker. The pistol’s muzzle gouged her back, digging into her spine.

“I’m not a patient man.” A low rumble crawled over her. “Unless you wish me to shoot you, I suggest you don’t stop again.”

Shuffling down the corridor, Alana twisted, staring at him over her shoulder. “I’m worried for Mrs. Parker.”

“Is that the woman with whom you were traveling?”

“We met aboard this ship.”

“Yet you’ve developed such a strong affection for her?” He raised both eyebrows, insinuating impropriety.

“Concern for another human being isn’t an attachment,” Alana retorted, her gaze sliding down the adjoining corridor.

Traces of smoke drifted toward them, floating from rooms that had already been searched and the passengers removed to unknown locations.

“Are you worried for Evans?” Captain Shaw shifted the trunk.

“No.” Alana’s forehead scrunched. “Why would I be?”

“Is he not a human being also?”

“He attacked an innocent woman!” Alana spun, anger pouring from her body. “He will perform all manner of horrific actions on her personage.”

Captain Shaw’s face darkened. “Regardless of the rumors you have heard, not one man under my employ would harm a female hostage.”

“What would they do?”

“They offer them a choice.”

“And the men?”

“Are you concerned for your own neck, Dubois?”

“I cannot swim.”

“Then, you’re lucky that you are a man since that is not one of your options.” He motioned with the gun, indicating for Alana to turn around.

Reaching into her waistband, Alana discreetly pulled the penny knife from her trousers. She clasped her hands in front of her, cautiously unfolding the blade. Dropping her arms to her sides, she hid the knife against her leg.

As they neared the end of the corridor, she whipped around with a shriek, swiping the knife through the air. The tip caught Captain Shaw’s shoulder, slicing down his arm. With a snarl, he swung, striking her in the face. She crumpled, crashing to the floor in a heap of twitching limbs.

Stepping over her body, Captain Shaw dropped the trunk beside her head and crouched. Leaning forward, he whispered, his threat crawling through the blackness clogging her mind.

“The next time you attack a pirate, Mr. Dubois, I suggest killing him before he does the same to you.”