“Don’t you start. You’ve no leg to stand on in that regard.”
Christian leaned back in his chair with a grin. The very first time he’d met Samantha, she’d been disguised as a boy. She’d engaged him in a sword fight…And won. It had nearly driven him mad and started the hunt of a lifetime.
“Why didn’t you bring her back to Tortuga?”
Isaac ran a hand through his hair. “And waste precious time? Besides, Samantha will love an excuse to go sailing on your new ship.”
“Ah. So, you want us to return your baggage.”
His fingers tightened around his glass. “She’s not my baggage.”
A dark brow lifted. “But she is very beautiful.”
Isaac closed his eyes and was rewarded with the bare curve of her waist—the same vision that had been haunting him the last two days. At least it had replaced the scene at the waterfall. Maybe. A growl formed in the back of his throat as another image rose unbidden: perfect breasts, slick with water, straining against translucent fabric. He took a hearty sip of his drink, welcoming the harsh burn. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Christian set down his glass and stretched, a smirk still etched across his face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Isaac sighed. One would have to be blind to miss the reverent look in her eyes each time they crossed paths. “I fear she has an infatuation with me.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You know exactly what’s wrong with that. I’ve no time or space in my life for any of that nonsense.”
Christian picked at an invisible spot on his sleeve. “So you keep saying.” He grinned anew. “I hope you’re not expecting any sympathy from my end.”
“That would be too much to hope for.” Isaac finished his drink. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be setting sail in a couple days and you’ll get her back to Tortuga long before I get back.”
“Fair enough.”
Isaac glanced at the notebook overflowing with pages sitting next to his friend. “Any headway on your research?”
Christian had been poring over all records of ships taken out by Captain Thorne, trying to find a pattern. He flipped open the book and removed a sheet of parchment. “It’s been difficult. In the beginning, the only ships he attacked were other pirates, which of course are rarely reported other than word of mouth. But, five years ago, he took out a merchant ship contracted with the Navy. Ever since then, he hastargeted a wider variety—merchant, passenger, privateer, and a few more associated with the Navy. It doesn’t make sense.”
Isaac’s fingers tapped a slow tempo on the arm of his chair. “Has anything about your father ever made sense?”
His friend’s lips pressed together. Finding out he was the son of the infamous Captain Thorne had been a life-altering shock. Once a decorated naval captain, Thorne went rogue after pirates killed his wife—Christian’s mother—and disappeared, faking his own death. At first, he hunted pirates. At some point, he turned into the very thing he hated. During their recent clashes with Thorne, he’d hinted he was far from finished with seeking retribution. The last time Christian saw him, he’d been shaken to the core by the news his mother had not been killed by pirates after all.
If there was one thing worse than a bloodthirsty pirate, it was a bloodthirsty pirate out for revenge.
The question remained: who was he after?
With brows together, he took note of Christian’s set jaw. His friend treaded dangerous waters and risked becoming as consumed with the hunt as his father had. It was a large part of the reason he’d resigned from the Navy. Now, Isaac was the one tasked with bringing Thorne in. It rubbed the wrong way for certain, having to take down the father of his best friend. But it was his duty, and he would do it to the best of his ability.
A heaviness settled over him, as it often did when he thought about the mission. He had kept vital information from his superiors by not disclosing Thorne’s true identity, at Christian’s request. If it were found out, Isaac could be court-martialed and released from service, a blemish that would follow him the rest of his life. He couldn’t help glancing at Christian, who still flipped through the pages in his notebook. For now, he would honor his friend’s wishes.
A soft knock came from the doorway and the butler poked his head into the study. “Dinner’s ready.”
They stood and followed him to the dining room. Of course, Samantha had made sure a proper feast awaited. The only thing he disliked about being at sea was the terrible food choices. He enjoyed a well-cooked meal and looked forward to the rare occasions he got them. His heart swelled as he took in the various dishes at the table. Having good friends who insisted upon spoiling him also made his time ashore more enjoyable. Samantha entered, clothed in her trademark periwinkle blue and paused just inside the door to wave in Miss Montclair.
Isaac clamped his teeth together. She wore one of Samantha’s dresses, the blue silk shimmering over tanned skin. Her hair had been teased into a masterful pile of curls and she wore something tied to a ribbon around her neck, a brooch perhaps. He couldn’t tell because it disappeared into her cleavage. Pulse beating in his ears, he yanked his gaze up. Why did she have to be so damn beautiful?
She gave him a shy smile, and all he could do was nod.
Christian slid him a look, that blasted smirk back on his face. “You ladies look lovely.” He strode forward and pulled out the chair closest to his spot at the head of the table.
Samantha sat and Christian cleared his throat, spurring Isaac into action. He crossed over and did the same for Miss Montclair. She thanked him, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks, and he took his seat across from the two ladies.
He filled his plate and made sure to keep his mouth full, which meant Christian and Samantha got to lead conversation. As they ate, he couldn’t help noticing Josephine’s pure delight in trying dishes new to her—which turned out to be all of them. She lifted a spoonful of turtle soup to her nose and took a sniff, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
