Suddenly Pellier found his wrist seized in a grip of iron. Slowly, against his will, the blade was raised away from Shanna until he stared into Ruark’s softly smiling face.
“I know you are rash, my friend, but I think not foolishly so.”
Pellier let Shanna sprawl to the deck. His free hand dipped quickly toward the pistol in his belt, but Ruark caught that arm as well. The half-breed struggled against Ruark, but his arms were held between them where none of the crew or captains could see the battle. The more Pellier tried to free himself, the tighter the vise became until he could feel his hands growing numb. His eyes sought his captor’s face and saw in it a strength and will he had until now doubted existed. It was born in the back of his muddled mind that he could not rest until this one who held him like a child was made to feed the fishes. Having no other choice, he ceased the useless fight, but the grip held where it was.
“Now I, for one, have great love for my neck and would not see it stretched upon the Hampstead’s spar,” Ruark continued easily. “You have already tweaked Trahern’s nose, but would you draw the full wrath of his vengeance on us all? There is also this to consider. The wealth you draw from her flesh will be meager indeed and done with all too soon, but her father treasures the wench as his only kin and will no doubt pay handsomely for her safe return.”
Seeing some logic in this, Pellier relaxed in the tenacious grasp, and Ruark released him.
“Oui, you speak true,” the half-breed grunted reluctantly, but his hawkish eyes lowered to Shanna who, though bruised and shaken, let her gaze show contempt as it roamed his filthy person. With a sly leer he chuckled, “But ‘twas Pellier who brought her here, eh? She will be mine ’til the ransom is full paid.”
Shanna’s breath caught sharply in her throat, as much in outrage as in shock, and she scrambled up, staring at him in horrified disgust. His lustful perusal pierced her meager garments, taking a path downward over her round bosom and gracefully curving hips. Shanna could not hold back a shudder of revulsion and clutched the thin robe higher about her neck. When she had seen Ruark aboard the ship, she had thought he had somehow planned her capture, whether for revenge or desire she could only guess. The idea, though it had angered her mightily, was at least remotely acceptable as her fate, and she reasoned it could be dealt with. Now a cold, sickening dread of what really lay in store for her began to make itself known. This swaggering brute, Pellier, could hardly have made himself more sickening to her eyes. He was a rank, filthy man with not the shallowest knowledge of decency. Given her choice between throwing herself overboard and submitting to him, she could only surmise she’d seek the former end without hesitation. Indeed, in the matter of choices, Ruark was her only refuge. But if he had betrayed her before, he might well again.
Ruark’s manner was almost calm as he watched Pellier’s eyes covetously survey and obviously savor that which he named his. A more observant man than the half-breed might have noticed the distinct hardening of Ruark’s lean features, the tightening of his jaw, the coldness in his gaze—and taken a warning.
Deliberately Ruark caught Shanna’s wrist and in spite of her resistance and attempts to snatch free, he pulled her before the pirate captain. He ignored the flashing green daggers that fair riddled him and with a finger under her chin, raised it beneath the lantern until Pellier could clearly see her fine and delicate beauty.
“This further caution I would give you, Captain Pellier. If you’ve eyes in your head, you might see this is a rare piece of considerable cost.” Ruark’s fingers softly stroked the fragile column of her pale throat. Beneath his light touch Shanna trembled, and he wondered what emotion betrayed her. “But the piece bruises easily with abuse and once returned, her vengeance might well be more costly than Trahern’s own. This is his valued pet, and he’ll see her will carried out. To be the treasure you seek, she must be tended carefully and kept against the day you’ve gotten her worth.”
Ruark dropped his hand away from her, but not before he frowned a warning into Shanna’s eyes. Then, with a casual salute to Pellier, he strode past her and made his way to the forecastle where he leaned upon the rail and watched the iridescent sea curling beneath the prow.
A puzzled frown troubling her brow, Shanna studied him covertly and wondered if this man who seemed to ever mark her life would be her champion or her end.
“Bind the wench!” Pellier bellowed.
Gaitlier scurried across the deck, catching Shanna’s wrist, and dragged her along in his wake as she cast repeated glances over her shoulder at the lone figure by the rail.