Not from Thorne.
Not from the lieutenant.
Griff saw her first and stood. “We were beginning to worry. Are you alright?” His gaze traveled up and down her.
She brushed some sand from her arms. Heavens knew what she looked like. “I’m fine.”
Liar.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Sails!”
The shout brought Christian scrambling to his feet. He shook the sleep from his eyes and squinted down the beach where a man ran toward them waving his hands. Reflexively, he searched out Red.Miss Warstein.A dull ache pounded in his temple.
Sleep had evaded him most of the night. And for good reason. His words had been foolish, because she’d been right. He couldn’t offer more to her. A navy lieutenant could never have a future with a pirate. And as tempting as it was to offer her the position of mistress, he’d seen the look in her eyes.
It would break her.
So he would do the honorable thing and leave her alone.
If I weren’t a pirate . . .
His fists clenched. If she weren’t, so many things would be different.
She’d slept next to Tommy and he frowned at the empty spot next to the boy. As the men around him began to stir, he scanned the beach.
There.
Fiery hair streaming behind her, she sprinted toward the large pile of driftwood they’d built last night. A little trail of smoke followed her and it took him a moment to comprehend she carried a stick from the fire.
He staggered forward and grabbed a bundle of dried dune grass some of the men had gathered before following her. Dropping to hisknees next to her, he ignored the little buzz of energy tugging at him and found a spot to tuck the grass into.
She touched glowing embers to the little nest and leaned forward to blow. The grass twisted and curled, turning black. She blew again, a long slow puff, and lines of concentration furrowed her brow. A sizzle came from the ball and a moment later white smoke billowed up.
Little flames flickered and rose toward the dry wood above. Soon the fire consumed the pile and Christian turned to the crew.
“Find more wood. Bring the palm fronds from the campsite. We need as much smoke as possible.”
When he turned back, Red was gone.
Griff ran by with his spyglass and Christian followed him. The old man looked out to sea and pointed. “There.”
Reflecting the pink of the rising sun, two fore-and-aft-rigged masts hugged the horizon. A schooner. The smoke from the fire rose in a thin stream. From that far, the ship would never see them.
“We need a bigger fire.”
When he spun to help the crew, Griff stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Christian stopped and Griff nodded toward where Red helped drag a pile of palm fronds toward the fire.
“She’s a good girl.”
Christian watched her toss her load into the flames. Without hesitating, she ran back to camp.
“Why the hell is she mixed up with your lot?”
Griff pressed his lips together. “That’s for her to tell you.”
Christian frowned. “She’s a pirate. As are you. You know my job.” He dragged his gaze from her. “I advise you all to find honorable jobs when we return to Savannah. I’m not going to show any of you special favor if we meet again.”
