Beautiful Tempest(38)

"No."

"He is, too!" Jack insisted.

"She's just predicting I will be, Dr. Death. Hardly makes it true, now does it?"

Bastard might have addressed that to the doctor, but he'd said it for her. Not that it mattered in the least when he was using her to lead her father to his death.

But the doctor shook his head as he closed his bag and headed to the door. "I suppose the bandage will need changing over the next few days, Cap'n," he said in parting. "But that's woman's work, not mine."

"Jack will do it."

"No chance in hell."

"You will. Would you really throw your . . . hirelings to the wolves?"

She drew in her breath. Was he actually going to play that card? And he wasn't even looking at her when he made that threat. His eyes were closed. The blood loss and his exertion in the water had weakened him more than he was trying to let on. But he hadn't passed out yet.

"You know where my shirts are, put one on. I haven't locked the trunk yet."

She almost laughed. He obviously remembered that she'd confiscated one of his shirts on the last voyage just so she could get out of that uncomfortable ball gown she'd been wearing when he'd kidnapped her. She'd shredded all the rest of his shirts that day and would have ripped apart his pants, too, if they weren't so sturdily made. But he'd locked his trunk after that.

Now she just said adamantly, "No."

"It wasn't a suggestion, Jack. Considering what happened tonight"-he paused to place a hand over his bandage-"I need to see what else is in your arsenal."


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"That was my last dagger."

"I'm afraid I'll need proof of that now. But it's up to you whether you strip in front of me, or if Mort takes your clothes off for you. Although considering how angry he is at you right now, I think you'd prefer to do it yourself."

She wished he were bluffing, but knew he wasn't. The doctor had closed the door behind him, but Bastard's friend would probably be back to tie her up for the night or take her to the hold so Bastard could recover in peace. That was a promising thought. . . .

She crossed over to the trunk at the foot of his bed and opened it. Most of his shirts were white, but she saw a blue one and, under it, a pink one. She would never have taken him for a dandy, but then pirates were known for gaudy attire according to Gabby.

She grabbed the pink one and moved back across the room to toss it on her cot before she faced him. This wasn't going to be difficult, certainly nothing to be embarrassed about. She might even make it uncomfortable for him, enough that he might wish he hadn't suggested this.

She turned out her pockets first before she unfastened the soggy skirt and let it drop to her feet. The thin petticoat was still sticking wetly to her legs, so she had to push that down. She glanced at him then to see if he was actually watching her every move. He was, maybe a little too avidly. He'd even leaned up on his right elbow. The bandage had been wrapped around him, but his chest was so damned wide and long, she was still seeing too much of it. And he was naked under that blanket. . . .

So maybe she felt a little embarrassed, but not because of what she was doing. Standing there in her blouse and fancily beribboned drawers, she turned one hip toward his view, then the other. Unlike his shirt, which would reach her knees, hers barely reached her hips. She unbuckled her leather sheath next. It had fit so nicely over the leg of her drawers that it hadn't chafed her skin, but it was useless now that her last weapon was gone. She would have kicked it angrily away if her feet weren't entangled in the pile of wet clothes.

She brought her eyes back to his before she began to unfasten her blouse. Her fingers slowed. It wasn't intentional, she was just fascinated by what she saw in his eyes. She'd seen that look once before, the last time her calves had been exposed to him. She'd been too enraged then to wonder if she might utilize that he liked what he saw, too enraged to wonder if she could get close to him without swinging her fists. She still didn't think she could, so it was moot, but it was still fascinating that she could dazzle him, however briefly.

She removed the blouse and held it in her hand as she made a full circle so he could see that nothing was tucked into the back of her drawers or inside her thin chemise. "Have you embarrassed me enough?" 

He raised a brow. "I expected to, but as usual you surprise me. You don't seem the least bit embarrassed. You are a lady, correct?"

"I'm my father's daughter," she said offhandedly. "He used to be a rake of the worst sort, you know."