This was the best Ruark could do. The sun was low in the sky, and the light would be gone in an hour. He must now see to himself. Relenting to Shanna’s pleas at last, Ruark accepted her assistance and stretched out on the pallet. Heedless of what the ship might do, the three knelt around him in concern. Ruark took the bottle of rum and splashed it liberally over his leg then took a long draught, his eyes watering as he choked it down. Tucking a wad of shirt into his mouth, he clenched his teeth against it then reached above his head to grasp the rail posts. He gave a quick nod to Gaitlier. The man’s hands were gentle as he laid them upon the splinter, but sharp daggers awoke in Ruark’s leg as he braced himself.
“Now!” Gaitlier half shouted and pulled hard.
Ruark heard Shanna gasp. An explosion of white pain seared inside his head, and, when it cooled, there was only merciful darkness.
It seemed he awoke only a short time later. The red and golden hues were gone from the sky above. The sun was still low, yet they seemed to be staring into it. Ruark became aware of a warmth against his right arm and rolled his head to see Shanna snuggled beneath the blanket that covered them both. Her eyes were closed in sleep, and her breath touched him gently, like a small child’s. Carefully he moved his arm until it was around her, and sighing softly, she nestled closer to his side.
Ruark lifted his gaze to the tall masts swaying against the blue sky. Then he realized, “ ‘Tis morning!”
He had slept the night through. His hand went down and felt the heavy bandage that wrapped his thigh. For his own peace of mind, he wiggled his toes and then his foot. All seemed well but for a persistent dull ache from the wound.
Shanna stirred against him, and lifting her face upward, he kissed her lips softly and nuzzled her hair, breathing in the sweet fragrance of it. Her hand caressed his chest beneath his shirt, and she settled her head comfortably against his shoulder, her eyes searching his with brimming warmth.
“I would stay here forever if you were with me,” Ruark sighed in her ear.
He kissed her again, his parted lips savoring hers for a long, blissful moment as his hand slipped under her shirt to capture a round breast. Shanna’s arm went about his neck, bringing the cover over his shoulder to protect his caress from the witness of others. Her cheeks grew warm and flushed with the pleasure he aroused in her as his thumb teased the soft nipple into an excited peak.
“Your leg?” she whispered eagerly. “How does it feel?”
Ruark glanced toward the forecastle deck where Gaitlier and Dora had spent the night. They were just now beginning to stir, and he gave a nod in their direction.
“If we didn’t have guests aboard, I would be eager to demonstrate my health.”
Shanna’s soft chuckle held a hint of a challenge as she snuggled closer. She murmured low in his ear. “Would you care to go below, milord? I know a private place in the captain’s cabin.”
“You tempt me sorely,” Ruark moaned. His hand slid down, inside her loose breeches, and found the womanly softness of her. Her eyelids lowered and her breath trembled from parted lips.
It was only Gaitlier coming aft that cooled their play. In nervous embarrassment Shanna drew away and sat on her heels, facing Ruark. She tightened the rope belt around her waist. Ruark watched her, unable to resist a last stroke of his hand along her thigh. Warily Shanna glanced back over her shoulder to see what had become of Gaitlier and saw him walking back to Dora in response to a timid-voiced question. Shanna turned back and placing her hand over Ruark’s, smiled in soft, intimate communication. She leaned down to him, bracing her elbows on the pallet beside his head, heedless of the loose shirt that gapped away, presenting every detail of her ripe, tempting bosom. As Ruark boldly eyed her display, a lazy grin spread across his lips.
“You’re an evil temptress, Shanna Beauchamp.”
Her finger twirled in his hair as she admitted, “Aye, but only with you, my Captain Pirate Ruark.”
“Good enough then, my love.” Reluctantly he raised on his elbows, and his voice was firm as he stated, “I must see to the ship lest she race on and plunge herself against the Africa shore.”
“Oh, Ruark, don’t get up!” Shanna pleaded. “I’ll do whatever needs be done. Sit still.”
“I can’t, Shanna. I must be about. My leg will be better after I’ve walked on it a bit.”
Shanna saw that he was determined, though he winced as he moved his leg and would get up by himself if she refused to help him. His leg was stiff and sore, but with some difficulty Ruark soon stood beside the wheel. Shanna was reluctant to leave him even then and remained beside him as he checked the course in the binnacle. Lifting his head, he scanned the sails. The wind had shifted slightly, and he would soon have to correct for it. But how far had they come, he wondered. If the wind had blown hard, they would be long past the islands and would have to turn back into them. In this breeze it would be a difficult task, which Ruark doubted his crew of three could handle. But where—