The man entered the cell and held out his hand.
Hesitant, she swallowed down a burst of fear and took it.Surely if the captain wished to see her, this man would do her no harm.His large hand engulfed hers as he gently lifted her from the seat, then immediately released her.
“Dis way,” he said.Hefting the lantern, he led her through the hold, up two ladders, and onto the deck.
With heavy breath, she struggled to keep up, ignoring the ache in her belly.But soon she emerged to a blast of warm, moist air that swept away the stench of the hold and brought with it the smells of a salty sea, sodden wood, and the sweat of men—oddly comforting in their familiarity.Above her, a glorious splattering of twinkling stars spanned from horizon to horizon, displaying the handiwork of God.Or so her father had oft told her.Pirates stopped to gape at her as if she were a mermaid drawn from the sea.Salacious suggestions and untoward invitations peppered her from all directions, things no lady should hear, but she ignored them.
After all, she was no lady.
The large man escorted her down a companionway to their right, through another short hallway where he knocked on a carved oak door.
The captain’s smoky voice shouted “Enter,” and instantly Gabrielle was nudged into the lion’s den, for what rose from behind a desk was as frightening as a beast searching for prey.
“That’ll be all, Moses,” he said.
The dark man left.The door shut with an ominous thud.Gabrielle lifted her shoulders and returned the man’s stare with as much courage as she could muster.Which wasn’t much at the moment.Still, a flash of confusion crossed those hazel eyes of his as he rounded his desk toward her.Aye, she’d noticed the color of his eyes, so striking against his tanned skin and coal black hair.A handsome beast, if she admitted it.But a beast, nonetheless.
“You may sit.”He gestured toward a chair bolted to the deck toward her right.At least she thought it was a chair.Hard to tell with the piles of books, parchments, bowls, and various trinkets cluttered on the seat.
He made no move to clear it.Hence, Gabrielle swept it to the deck with one hand, ignored the clanging and thumping, and promptly slid onto the seat.If she angered the beast, what did it matter?He was clearly no gentleman.
When she dared raise her gaze to his, an odd smirk sat upon his lips.He crossed arms over his chest and studied her with an intensity that forced her to look away.Lud.The last thing she wanted was to cower before this pirate, to give him the power over her he so craved.But the man radiated a confidence, a strength, an intensity that filled every crack and crevice of the cabin.
A cabin that resembled a garbage heap.A lantern hooked above sent waves of golden light over waistcoats, trousers, shirts, and hats crumpled in piles where they’d no doubt been carelessly removed.Atop a bed perched against the starboard bulkhead, various quilts appeared to have fought an overnight battle.And lost.Open bottles and silver-lidded claret jugs littered the cabin on shelves, a desk, and a mahogany sideboard like statues to a foreign god.Parchments, maps, and navigation instruments covered every inch of his desk in such aimless turmoil, ’twould be hard to find any of them when needed.Weapons—flintlocks, knives in all sizes, blades, and an ax—lay casually about, within easy reach of the man, who likely wielded them expertly.
In truth, a small knife sat on the top of a chest near Gabrielle.Her eyes latched upon it for but an instant before she shifted them away.
The beast noticed and quickly moved to remove it.
His gait was strong and determined, boots of black Cordovan leather thundered on the deck.A sleeveless leather waistcoat covered an open-collared black shirt stuffed into brown breeches that clung to firm thighs.Leather braces crisscrossed a thick chest, devoid of weapons at the moment.Wavy strands of his dark hair had escaped their prison and hung about his stubbled jaw.
Her breathing came hard and fast as he approached, though she tried to hide it.A waft of spice and the sea swept over her as he grabbed the knife and strode back to the desk.
“What do you want with me, Captain?”she dared ask, hating the quiver in her voice.
He spun to face her, the slight grin on his lips fading as his eyes lowered to her belly.Instantly, his expression twisted into a dark malevolence as if a demon had suddenly possessed his thoughts.
Gabrielle covered her belly with her arms, hoping to protect her babe from whate’er dark spirits leapt from this evil man.
He pinched his right earlobe, continuing to stare at her stomach, his jaw flexing and bunching until she thought it would burst.Finally, he turned, poured a drink from an open bottle, and tossed it into his mouth.
Rum.She knew the pungent scent well.
Against her will and every effort, tears flooded her eyes.“Have we met before?”Though she was sure she’d remember such an encounter.
Snorting, he stared out the stern windows where a dark, moonlit sea swayed in and out of view with each leap of the ship.
When he faced her again, his expression had softened ever so slightly, giving her hope he wasn’t the monster he seemed to be.
“Nay.Though I am quite familiar with your type.”
Gabrielle raised a brow.“And what, pray, is my type?”
“From your speech,” he continued, leaning back against his desk.“I perceive you to be a lady of some education and means.”
The deck slanted as the ship leapt over a wave.She shifted in her seat, confusion tumbling through her.But she must not play his game.She must never show fear.Hence, she met his imperious gaze.“Indeed.I have been raised in fortunate circumstances.Is that enough to warrant your hatred?”
“Not of itself.”Grabbing a bottle, he gestured with it toward her belly.“You carry the seed of the devil himself.”
