The Buccaneer(9)

Her first thought was that at least she was free of all those groping hands and she scurried to right herself. When she turned to push herself up; her eyes connected with those of the young sailor who had warned her.

He lay beside her. His head was bleeding. His eyes were wide with fright.

“Dear God,” she whispered and turned to survey the carnage. Crew members lay moaning, their faces and limbs bloody. The once-billowing white sails were torn in shreds and the masts were split.

“Help me.”

The barely audible pleas returned Catherine’s attention to the injured sailor. She scrambled to her knees and ripped the hem of her petticoat. She gently wiped the blood from his head. “Easy now, you’ll be fine.”

The young sailor kept his eyes fixed upon her.

She smiled, trying to offer encouragement as she continued to clean the wound. “It’s not as bad as it looks, truly.”

“It hurts.”

“You have a large bump. But the wound itself isn’t deep,” she said, relieved his injury wasn’t as fatal as she first believed.

A tear came to his eye.

“You’ll be fine, really. I’m not fibbing,” she said with a smile, trying to reassure him.

He shook his head slightly, but it hurt so he held it very still. “You didn’t use the weapon.”

Catherine realized what had brought the tears on. He was frightened for her, not for his well-being. “I didn’t—”

Her words caught in her throat as she was yanked viciously away from him and swung around by her arm to face Captain Lucifer. His hand bit into her flesh and she had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. She regretted her actions.

His eyes were cold gray. His long hair hung wildly about his shoulders, and his mouth was open enough for Catherine to see white even teeth. She shut her eyes against the disturbing sight, having sworn they were sharp and about to snap angrily at her.

“I gave you no leave to tend the injured,” he said, his fingers biting more deeply into her flesh.

“You’re hurting me.” She refused to plead or cry for her release.

“No, not yet I’m not.”

Catherine was shocked by his response. It was delivered with such calmness and self-assurance that she wondered exactly what he meant.

“Clean up here,” he ordered with a shout to his crew and then dragged her along beside him.

She tripped a few times, but his firm grip prevented her from falling. He stopped next to the balustrade on the side of the ship. He raised his leg, placing the sole of his black, knee-high boot on the scarred top. The muscles in his thighs bulged and Catherine was certain their strength alone could easily crush a person.

He looked down at the dark water lapping angrily against both ships. Then he looked up and over at his ship, and then he looked at her.

Though she was frightened, she held his intense stare. For a moment she had thought he intended to throw her overboard, but then she recalled his reason for attacking the ship. Revenge. He wouldn’t obtain his revenge by feeding her to the sharks.

“Santos,” he yelled, still holding her eyes with his. “We’re coming aboard.”

Catherine snapped her head to look over at his ship. A short, barrel-chested man stood on deck. He held a thick hemp rope that hung from one of the masts in his hand.

“You need help?” the man called over with a laugh, and the pirates on both ships joined him in laughter.

“Throw the rope over, Santos,” he ordered in a rough tone that brought the merriment to an abrupt end.

He caught the rope in his free hand, coiling it around his arm like a snake before his fingers locked onto it. He released her arm, but before Catherine could rub her sore skin his arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her up flat against his chest.

“Hold on,” he ordered, “unless you want the darkness of the sea to be your grave.”

Instinct to survive such a heinous fate brought her arms up and around his neck quickly. She tried to keep her had away from his chest, but when he stood on top of the balustrade and swayed, she hastily relented.

As they swung off the ship, Catherine tightened her arms around him even more. She pressed her face as hard as she could against his chest. It was warm and the steady beat of his heart sounded reassuring. It wasn’t thudding rapidly in fright, but evenly and strongly and in confidence of his ability to deposit them both safely. A sobering thought to Catherine.

A robust cheer rang out from the pirates as the couple landed on the deck of the pirate ship. She held on until he had steadied them both and then she swiftly dropped her hands and took a step away from him.

He allowed her the distance. She supposed it really didn’t matter since he now had her safely on his ship. Where could she go?