Flying those flags was an invitation to the gallows for most pirates.
Not Thorne.
“We can only hope.” Her mouth had gone dry, however.
After a shouted order from their captain, the brutes reefed the sails and the towering frigate floated alongside theRaven.
Staring down the barrel of a cannon, Samantha tried and failed to swallow. Numbness crept over her, winding through her limbs and heart until the world around her slipped away. Leaving her and the thud of her pulse.
Would her life flash before her eyes? Should it? She closed them. What was worth remembering? Her parents. She tried to picture their faces. Nothing. Sailing. Wind in hair and one with the ship. Still nothing.
She scowled. Surely there was something she could think of. Something that had given her pleasure.
And then a vision did come: Herself. Tucked against Christian’s chest, his fingers cupping her jaw with quiet possessiveness.
Her eyes snapped open and she glared at Christian’s back. He had placed himself between her crew and Thorne’s men. How gallant. Shegrowled. How dare he occupy her last thoughts?
She made to close her eyes and try again when Thorne’s voice boomed between the ships.
“And here my men were itching for a fight.”
“Leave us be, Thorne.” Christian took a step toward the railing.
The pirate laughed. He stood at the forecastle, his jacket tails flapping against his thighs.
“After you’ve stolen something of mine? You must be out of your mind, boy. Give it back, and I shall give you all quick deaths.”
Samantha’s fingers dug into her palms. She shouldn’t have given the map to Christian.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She blinked. The honest lieutenant, lying?
Thorne’s gaze roamed the crew and settled on her. His eyes narrowed and after a long moment of silence, he grinned.
“Search the ship.”
His crew began swinging over with ropes and tethered the ships together. A gangplank thunked across the railings and Thorne walked over, his eyes never leaving her.
When he stopped in front of her, he pulled a dagger from his belt. Running his finger over the blade, he leaned close. “There’s a special punishment I reserve for those who steal from me.”
“Leave her alone, Thorne.” Christian’s voice rang with warning.
“You’re in no place to give me orders.” Thorne ran the tip of the dagger along her jawline. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she fought to stay still as his gaze traveled over her attire. “You look better in a dress, Miss Warstein.”
Thumps and crashes came from below deck. Her gaze flitted to the lump in Christian’s pocket. Would he give it up?
Thorne moved his blade down until it rested above her heart. Right where she’d placed hers the night before. He pressed until a sharp pain pierced her skin.
“Should have killed me when you had the chance.” Flipping the dagger, he sheathed it and laughed. “You make a lousy pirate.”
He pivoted and began a slow stroll around the deck. He ran his hand along the railing, over sheeting and pulleys. Samantha’s hands clenched as he touched her ship so intimately.
One by one, his men reported their news to him. No map.
Her crew stood in tense silence as the minutes dragged by. Christian stood rigid with his hands clasped behind his back and Thorne approached him.
“I know what you’re trying to do, but let me tell you something. My patience is wearing thin. You’re only delaying the inevitable.”
