“Well, I’ll be the son o’ a sea urchin. No wonder ye stole it from ole Slippery Crock.” He licked his lips. “And it ’as power! Mystical power. Blind me, but were it what made the storm on the island that ’elped us escape?”
As much as Blake would prefer to deny it, how could he? “So it would seem.”
Finn whistled and scratched beneath his bandana. “Wit’ that kind a power, ye’d be undefeated on sea an’ land.”
That was the idea. Still, the hungry gleam in the quartermaster’s eyes gave Blake pause. Friend or not, what man on earth wouldn’t want to possess such power? And who could blame him?
Chattering rang across the deck, and Bandit leapt from the ratlines onto Blake’s shoulder. He’d wondered where the monkey had run off to. Most likely swinging through the canopy, chasing birds, and enjoying the abundance of tropical fruits. Now, he screeched into Blake’s ear and put his spindly little hand on the Ring on Blake’s finger.
He could have sworn he heard Bandit say, “The Ring is hers.” But that couldn’t be.
Finn chuckled. “Seems even yer monkey wants the Ring.”
Blake shook his head. “Did you hear him say something?”
“The stinky varmint?” Finn’s brows crossed. “Nay. Are ye feelin’ well, Cap’n?”
“Never mind.” Blake grabbed Bandit and set him on the deck just as female laughter floated on the morning mist. Making his way to the railing, he could hardly believe his eyes. Charlie and Emeline frolicked in the surf like little girls, splashing each other over and over and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Amazed, he envied them, watching their childish play for several moments, finding it hard not to smile.
Joining him, Finn snickered. “Well, fire an’ flame. Ne’er saw Charlie act like a girl afore.”
“Aye, ’tis a strange sight, indeed. Now, quit dawdling and get to work.” Blake regretted his harsh tone, but he must prove his authority with his crew, even those he considered friends. Besides, he suddenly remembered that last night he had disclosed things to Emeline he’d never told anyone, and his anger burned.
What was it about the silly female that caused him to open his heart, a heart he vowed to keep safe behind a fortress of indifference and self-interest?
Shoving his pipe back into his mouth, Finn ambled away, grumbling, just as Bandit leapt onto the bulwarks. The traitorous monkey spotted Emeline and Charlie and wasted no time scrambling up the ratlines onto the forward yard and leaping from it onto a palm branch reaching for the brig. From there, he darted across the sand to the ladies.
Blake double-checked his Ring just in case, then cursed and ordered a pirate to row him ashore.
Emeline looked none too happy to see him, though how could he blame her? He must not show weakness, must not show that what happened between them last night troubled him in the least. Hence, he put on his most authoritative expression, ordered Charlie to the brig to aid Finn with the repairs, and told Emeline to accompany him.
Sighing her displeasure, the lady slipped her shoes back on, stood, brushed sand from her skirts, and gave him a pointed look. “Am I to run the gauntlet, Captain?”
Blake couldn’t help but grin. “Tempting. Unless you’ve done something to warrant it?”
“The look on your face. ’Tis the same one you give your crew when they’ve done something to incur your wrath.”
“Ah, you think you know me so well, my sugar bird.”
“Stop calling me that! I am not made of sugar, nor am I your little bird.”
Her face flushed in such an adorable way, Blake smiled again, something he was doing far too often for a pirate captain. “Follow me.” Turning, he started for the jungle, listening for her footsteps behind him. Would she obey?
Moments passed, but finally the sound of shuffling sand along with grumbling brought his assurance.
Pushing aside a large fern, he held it back for her as she entered the tangled wood. Bandit darted for her but leapt into a tree instead.
“How long are we to be on this island?” She brushed past him. Her sweet scent blended with the smell of earth and greenery, defying her earlier declaration that she was not made of sugar.
A sugar he would love to sample.
“I haven’t decided.” He slipped beside her. “Are you bored already? Prefer the tiny cabin on theSummons?”
Clutching her skirts, she stepped over a thick vine traversing the path and frowned. “What I prefer is to be home with my family.”
“Hmm. I doubt they have such a fine estate since I’ve heard they give away quite a bit to the impoverished.”
Halting, she glared at him. A strand of her chestnut-colored hair dangled over her moist cheek, and he longed to slip it behind her ear. “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world but loses his soul?”