Alone.
Her eyes pressed against hot tears. Everything she’d worked for, all the long hours learning to sail, training to become the best, all were for naught. She’d wanted to become a pirate. Now, her career was ending before it even started.
Footsteps sounded above her and the hatch flung open. She blinked against the bright stream of light as the giant descended. Samantha scrambled to her feet while two more feet came into view. Dangling feet.
A body dropped down and the giant caught it with a grunt. She pressed back against the wall while the huge man threw the limp form over his shoulder and unlocked the cell next to hers.
When the door swung open, he glanced over at her with a grin. “Brought you some company.”
He tossed the body to the floor and slammed the cell door shut. A moment later, the hatch closed and she was alone with the stranger. She swallowed and stepped to the bars separating her from the man lying face down on the dirty floor.
“Sir?” She fell to her knees and reached through the bars to touch his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
The man groaned and rolled over. He flopped onto his back and squinted at her.
Samantha jerked her hand back. No. It couldn’t be.
But it was.
The room around her began to spin and she sucked in a breath.
“Lieutenant.”
Chapter Twelve
Christian pushed intoa sitting position. “Miss Warstein.”
Her face had gone pale in the shadows and he frowned. She looked at him as if she’d seen a ghost.
“What’s wrong?”
She blinked and her mouth opened. And closed.
“Are you injured?” If Thorne or his men had hurt her... he leaned forward and grasped rough iron bars.
Her hand rose toward him before clenching into a fist. She gave a little shake of her head. “I’m not. But you are.”
That much was true. He’d taken a beating at the hands of Thorne’s crew of giants. He drew in a long breath, trying to determine where he hurt the worst. Though his muscles ached, everything seemed to be in working order. No broken bones.
Something dripped into his eye and he automatically wiped at it. A sticky wetness ran down his forehead and when he pulled his hand away, it glistened red in the dim lantern light.
He swiveled and took in the tiny brig. Their two cells took up most of the space. Without a porthole, the only way out was the ladder. Which led directly onto the gun deck. Putrid air filled his nose and he fought to keep from coughing.
They were alone.
His blood went cold. How many of his men had perished? The sting of bile crept up his throat. Too many. And where were the survivors?
After he’d been knocked down and restrained, the pirates hadgathered his remaining crew together. They had begun to be shuttled back onto theFalcon, but a voice from the quarterdeck, where the infamous captain observed from the shadows with his hat pulled low, had stopped them. For some reason, Thorne had decided not to send him and his crew down with his ship. Not even after Christian had shouted for him to show his face and fight him like a man.
The bastard had ignored him and disappeared into his cabin.
And left Christian to be dumped into this dark and tiny room. With no way out.
His heart began to pound as he sucked in a steadying breath. He couldn’t lose control. Not here.
A soft rent of fabric came from behind him and when he turned, Miss Warstein held up a strip of her chemise. “You’ve a nasty cut above your eye, Lieutenant.” She bent to retrieve a cup of water and motioned him closer.
“Don’t bother yourself. I’ll be fine.” He let his fingers explore the spot and winced at the little burst of fire the touch caused.
