Page 23 of Scourge of the Shores

His voice softened with a gaze steadily locked with hers. Their bodies moved in sync with the ship’s sway.

Either way, he wouldn’t reveal all the cards in his hands. Not yet.

“I wanted to see how good a Captain you were, how well ye knew how to sail,” he half-lied. He pulled her finger until it lay on the correct spot on the tiller.

“Why do ye care?” Her weight shifted in her boots, but they remained firmly planted on the deck.

“I could always use another hand,” he said, watching the indirect insult ignite a flame in her eye.

“I’d never be a hand on yer ship,” she said and shoved him in the chest, but he didn’t move.

“You say that now,” he crooned with a gleam in his eye.

“Threat?” she challenged.

Robert smirked. “Maybe you just don’t like the truth.”

She growled. “I ain’t be the one lyin’ through me teeth.”

“Who said I was?” He felt the wind shift and knew he had to tend to the mainsail, but it could wait a few moments more.

Her growl fell flat. She studied him for a moment. “Ye did.”

“When did I say I was lyin’?” he asked, but before she could answer, he said, “If I remember correctly, ye’re the one that said, ‘Pirates lie.’”

Her eyes narrowed. “What game ye playin’, Jaymes?”

He flashed her a winning grin.

“An important one, Danna,” he said, patting her hand and whistling the same shanty he had the night before, low and slow. He took a few steps back before hopping down to the deck to adjust the mainsail.

* * *

Night’s shadow chased the waves until the pale crescent moon hovered over the face of the sea. Robert opened the hatch to the Captain’s quarters.

“What are ye doin’?” she barked from the tiller.

“It’s time for you to sleep, Captain,” he said, gesturing down the hatch.

“Not with ye; ye’re in the hold,” she said as Ethan took the tiller. Ethan said nothing, but he gave such a deadly glare, Robert felt its wound.

“Just endearin’ meself to the Capt’n.” Robert beamed. “As a thanks for lettin’ me and me mates board yer ship.”

Ethan jutted with his chin. “Captain, it’s been a long day for ye. I’ll make sure they behave. Scotty just woke too. I’ll stomp the deck if we need ye.”

Danna gave Ethan a curt nod before she hopped down from the helm. Her eyes narrowed at Robert, who held the hatch door open for her. They stood opposite the opening.

“I got it, mate,” she said, grasping the wooden door.

“The waves are a bit choppy. Would hate to see this hit your pretty head or break any finger bones.”

She tilted her head. “Is that what ye plan to do? Drop it on me.”

Robert shook his head and ran a finger over his lip. “I swear on my father’s name, I won’t let any harm come to you,” he murmured.

She searched his face, testing and measuring his honesty. Then, without a word, she climbed over the short wall and descended the hatch ladder.

When she stood at the bottom, Robert peered down. His fingers crept along the edge of the wood. Just long enough to make her wonder—just long enough to leave something unspoken in the space between them.

"Sweet dreams, Captain Chadwick," he murmured, then leaned in, his voice a breath against the wood. “Don’t miss me too much.” He shut the hatch with a heavy thunk.

With a satisfied grin at her muffled curse, he waved to Ethan. “Try not to wreck her, aye?”

Ethan ignored him and looked out at the waves and the stars.

Robert descended into the hold. The skylight let in the moon’s illuminance. He passed Otto, who was still a bit groggy from his sleep.

“Captain Jaymes,” Otto whispered. “Why ye let the Chadwick lass call ye Jaymes, not Captain?”

Robert pursed his lips. “Well, matey,” he began. “We’re unwanted, unarmed guests on her ship. But I’ll ensure she knows I’m a Pirate King once it’s all said and done.”

One corner of Otto’s mouth raised high as he gave a short nod. “Chadwick or not,” he whispered. “Don’t be disrespectin’ a Pirate King.”

“Aye. But I’m not sure it’s disrespectin’. She’s got something to prove and more to lose since she’s a woman.” He judged the amount of understanding in Otto’s eyes before deciding his next words. “Disrespect's a fine line. She walks it; I’ll walk it right back—until she sees where we stand.”

Otto huffed. “Ye’re a wise one, Captain, like yer father. Good man; good king, may Tophet keep ‘em,” Otto said, patting Robert on the shoulder as he headed topside.

Robert nestled down in the cot. The day had been worth crawling out of bed well before the break of dawn and going to bed well past sundown.

One day down, four more to win her or lose her.

He smiled, resting his hat over his face to block out the light.

Maybe she’d dream of him as he dreamed of her.

* * *

The bark of seagulls stirred him to wake. Dawn light seeped in around the leather of his hat. He rolled up and wiped his face. He snatched his bottle of oil from his sack and pulled his teeth and tongue before rolling the crick out of his neck. He missed his Captain’s bed on Storm Rider .

He checked his breath—grimaced. Pulled his tin from his shirt, took a sip, and let the spiced rum burn through every crevice before swallowing. Checked again. Better. Much better.

He plopped his hat on his head and headed to the ladder but stopped cold.

There she was in the cargo hold, counting barrels.

He peered around and didn’t see or hear anyone.

Why was she down there knowing he was there alone?

She could have sent Scotty or even one of his men to count.

A flicker of hope ignited in his chest. Maybe she was down there to be alone with him, out of sight of their crewmates.

He walked on light feet toward her, kept his distance, but leaned on a barrel near her.

He let himself believe she was there for him, but she jolted, like she hadn’t realized he was there at all. His grin slipped as the fantasy cracked.

“What are ye doin’?” she gasped before waving him off. “Ten, eleven,” and kept counting.

“Did ye miss me?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Hardly,” she said. “Glad to be away from ye, and I meant to kick ye awake. Ye overslept.”

“Not used to crew quarters,” he said, approaching her until he shadowed her and all the barrels around her.

“Ye’re in me light,” she barked, but he didn’t move.

She spun around but stiffened at how close he’d come. Lanternlight caught the smirk on his face, but the space between them belonged to him now.

“Question, Captain,” he whispered, unwilling to give up his earlier observations. “If ye knew I was down by my lonesome, why would ye come down too?”

“Had a job to do,” she said and pushed past him, but he stepped in her path, blocking her.

“Ye could’ve sent Scotty,” he said.

“Scotty was busy helping yer sorry mates with the mainsail,” she said and tried to sidestep him again, but he blocked her path once more.

“What’s so important, ye couldn’t wait til I woke and went topside?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

She did something she hadn’t done before—stepped back. He felt it. The irritation crossed her eyes before he stepped forward, closing the gap she’d just created.

“Just because ye saved me life, doesn’t mean I’m yers,” she gritted.

“I never said ye were,” he murmured, his eyes tracing the shadows of her face.

He let the sway of the ship bring him a little closer.

Her moonflower scent grounded him and pulled him in.

His gaze fell to her lips before returning to her eyes.

Her breath shook as the silence persisted between them, but their gazes never unlocked.

He lifted his hand slowly to her cheek, brushing his fingers against the smooth, sun-kissed skin as gently as he could.

She didn’t recoil, so he leaned in close.

But before he could kiss her, she shoved him aside. Harder than necessary. “I only came down to tell ye that.”

And she took the ladder two steps at a time, like she couldn’t get out of the hold fast enough.

He let her go, but still, he grinned. If what she said was true, she had come down there for him just as he thought.

He leaned against the barrel and crossed his arms. His finger rubbed his bottom lip, remembering the heat of her breath.

“Sneaky lass,” he muttered. His gaze dropped to the barrels.

He curled his finger into his fist. He’d cornered her, though.

Maybe she feared what he might take. But she didn’t seem the fearing type.

Did she push him away because she didn’t want his kiss—or because she wanted it too much?

The question lulled in his thought until he realized she hadn’t finished counting, so he finished for her before ascending himself.

The morning sun stung his eyes, and he lowered the brim of his hat to counter it. Thane and Ethan were descending to their time to sleep as Robert scanned the deck to find Danna at the tiller. He made himself useful by tightening some rigging before he made his way to her.

“Two hundred eleven,” he said. Scotty was in earshot, so he had to be careful with their conversation.

“What?” she asked, throwing him a glare.

“Barrels. Ye’re counting ‘em but didn’t know if ye finished,” Robert said.

“I didn’t.” She glanced at Scotty.

“Didn’t ye count ‘em before ye left port?” Robert asked, curious to see how she would respond with Scotty listening.

Danna didn’t miss a beat. “We dock this evening; just makin’ sure me negotiations be in order.”

Desire clenched deep in his chest. She wasn’t just clever—she was dangerous. A woman who could lie like that, with a half-smile and an even gaze? A woman who could hold a deck full of men under her thumb without lifting a blade?

She was already a Pirate King. She just hadn’t claimed the crown.

She only had to leave the island. But did she even want to?

She was a natural at sea; he had no doubts she could hold her own, but would his men accept her?

They’d have to accept him first. And he wasn’t sure who would be harder to win over—his crew, or her.