The wench had the audacity to laugh. “In my experience, men who make such a blatant show of force are compensating for something else entirely.”
One of his men snickered. Surely she wasn’t insinuating...
He stared at her and she gestured over her shoulder to the dozen muskets pointed their way.
“Lower your damn rifles.” Isaac’s voice snapped the men from their shock and a smug grin crossed her lips.
“I have a proposal for you.” She slid her gaze down to his feet and back. “That is, unless you’d prefer to run me through.”
He lowered his sword. “You’re in no position to offer me anything.”
Her laugh came again, echoing from the sails above. “I beg to differ.”
She nodded toward her ship and he let out a curse. While his idiot men had been staring at the scene she caused, her crew had not wasted the opportunity. Muskets had materialized out of thin air and hatches on the lower deck now hung open to reveal a row of gleaming cannons.
Impressive.
He grunted. “We have twice as many guns as you. There’s no way you would win.”
And thank heavens the men at his cannons hadn’t lost their minds like the others. They stood rigid at their posts, staring down the length of their iron barrels. One word from him and they would rain destruction.
“Maybe not. But we would certainly get a good bit of damage of our own in before you claimed victory.” She grinned. “Are you willing to risk it?”
He should call her bluff. But instead, Christian watched the rise and fall of her chest for the space of a few breaths, then inclined his head. “What is it you want?”
She hooked her thumbs in her belt and met his gaze. “One match. You and me.”
He stiffened. “A foolish proposal. And what, may I ask, is your price?”
“Immunity.”
He recoiled. “You cannot imagine I’d offer that.”
She shrugged, but the tightness in her shoulders gave away her nervousness. If he refused, she and her crew would be his prisoners in a matter of minutes. He took a step toward her and she lifted her chin a notch.
He leaned in to deny her once more.
A mistake.
She smelled of lemons and rosemary.
Her breath hitched, and the tiny sound sent awareness coursing through him. And then, he made a bigger mistake.
“I accept.”
Her shoulders loosened. “And your terms?”
Christian took a step back. “I want my compass back.”
She laughed again, the rich sound caressing him. “Come now, Lieutenant, surely my immunity is worth more than a measly old compass.” Her head tilted to the side as she regarded him with an intense look. “What do you really want? Is there nothing else you wish to take from me?”
Your freedom. You and your crew, prisoners of the US government.
He should say it. It’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? Because no matter how the match ended, it would culminate with her locked up. Hewasn’t playing any games. As a lieutenant, he would do his duty. Isaac’s warning played at the edges of his mind. If he captured her...whenhe captured her, she would face the noose. A vision of a rope around her slender neck hit him like a brick to the gut and an acrid taste filled his mouth.
The wind shifted, sending an errant strand of hair dancing across her cheek and her citrusy scent washed over him again. He rocked back on his heels and met her gaze.
“You’re right. There is something else I want.”
