The crew gathered on deck stood still, unsure what to do. She gave one of the men a pointed look and nodded toward her cabin. He jumped into action and met her at the door. Aware of the eyes on her, she made her instructions quick.
“Make sure we are ready to sail at a moment’s notice.” She glanced at the setting sun. “I’ll wait until dark.”
When he nodded, she unlatched the door and slipped inside. As soon as it clicked shut behind her, she crumpled against it. What had she gotten herself into?
The compass still laid on the shelf with her shells and she forced her body into motion. No time to waste bemoaning what was about to happen. She plucked the instrument from its spot and clenched her fingers around it. Somehow, the sheer panic she’d been waiting to overtake her hadn’t come. Yet.
In fact, each time she thought of Lieutenant Thompson, her stomach gave a little quiver. If she had to choose any man she’d ever met to be her first, she couldn’t think of a single other man she’d rather have. The lieutenant’s muscles, his glorious hair, the way his eyes burned into her...
Stop it. He’s your enemy.
But her traitorous mind couldn’t banish the memory of his body pressed against hers, of his hand at her side. What would it be like for that hand to touch bare skin? A flush spread over her and she turned to her wardrobe.
Breathe.
She unbuttoned her blouse and raised her fingers to the spot beneath her ear still tingling with the brush of his phantom breath.
After all, if she wanted to be a captain, she couldn’t remain an innocent lass forever.
A thrill ran through her. He would touch her. In the most intimate of ways. And she would touch him. Have full access to him for however long they remained in his cabin.
Her toes curled as her lips curved.
Yanking out a new pair of breeches and a clean shirt, she tossed everything onto her bed. How many minutes had she wasted daydreaming?
Samantha slipped from her dampened clothing. With quick fingers, she unwound the strip of linen she’d used to keep her breasts bound during the fight. She shook a deep, unrestricted breath and rushed to her wash table. A basin filled with clean seawater perched on it and she tossed a bar of soap in. She grabbed a sponge and dipped it into the water. With hurried movements, the worst of the day’s sweat washed from her skin.
With no time to do anything with her hair, she left it in the messy braid she’d twisted while hiding in the rigging earlier, doing her best to tuck stray strands back in place. Her breeches stuck to her wet legs, but she forced them up. For a moment, she considered sheathing her dagger at her calf but shook her head. No time.
Samantha buttoned the white shirt and tucked it into the waistband of her breeches. After slipping into her jacket, she left her boots lying next to the bed and crossed over to her desk. Inside the hiddencompartment, she pulled a small box forward. It contained six tiny vials, and she plucked two free.
No.
Only one. Two would kill him and bring the entire US Navy after her.
A grim smile played across her lips when she held a single bottle to a ray of golden light. She wasn’t naive enough to think the lieutenant had any intentions of letting them go. The clear liquid sloshed as her hand trembled. Henbane extract mixed with opium. Just a few drops of the potent concoction could lull a man into a deep slumber. But how to get the lieutenant to ingest it? With a sigh, she slid the vial into her pocket. She’d figure something out.
Her gaze settled on the satchels of dried herbs tucked next to the box. Tansey, pennyroyal, and Queen Anne’s lace. A tea she hadn’t thought she’d ever have to use. One of her crew mate’s wives was a midwife and had gifted the contraceptive tea to her months ago.
A commotion came from the deck and she grabbed the compass and tightened her mask before flinging the door open. The lieutenant strode toward her and she ignored the flutter in her stomach when he came to a stop a pace away.
“I see patience is not one of your virtues.”
He caught her arm and leaned in. “You’ll find that I’m a very impatient man when I want something. And you, my little warrior, I find myself wanting quite badly.”
Despite her nerves, the words sent a thrill through her. For a long moment, she stood still and stared up at him. He’d washed up as well, his wet hair combed back into a neat queue. Without his uniform hat or jacket, he almost looked as if he belonged among her crew. Almost. With a shake of her shoulder, she freed herself and held out his compass.
“As promised.”
A chestnut brow lifted and he took it from her. “Would you lookat that? A pirate that actually kept their word. Whatever is the world coming to?”
Samantha rolled her eyes and walked to the railing, where several thick ropes tethered the two ships together. A long coil of rigging line lay discarded at her feet. She slung it over her shoulder and looked up. With a hop, she caught the ratline and a few moments later swung up onto the main yard.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
She peered down at the lieutenant and planted a hand on her hip. “Last I checked, Lieutenant, your ship sits several feet higher than mine. Unless you’ve found a way to defy gravity, I suggest getting a higher start.”
He made a grab for her ankle, but she reached into the ropes and climbed to the top yard. A curse floated up her way and she grinned.
