"Eight bells, milady."

"I'm ready," she said. Closing her eyes, she puckered, waiting for his lips to descend upon her. Waiting to inhale his delicious musk. Waiting for his hands to roam across her back and his fingers to thread through her hair. Waiting. Why hadn't he kissed her yet?

"What's the la.s.s doin'?" Henri asked. "Is she alright?"

"Maybe the heat's done gotten to her," Willie answered.

She popped open one eye. Gone was the captain's mask of steely austerity. His amus.e.m.e.nt beamed brighter than the unforgiving sun. The heat couldn't compare to her swill of embarra.s.sment. Sweat beaded on her brow and she wished with all her heart she could disappear. Why didn't he kiss her? How idiotic she must look. She huffed, angry now. Mustering up a sc.r.a.p of dignity, she confronted the cur.

"What's wrong? Why won't you kiss me?" She propped her hands on her hips. "Have you gone back on our accord?"

His smug laugh indicated he had not. "I never renege on a deal, Miss McCoy."

"I don't understand."

"You have misinterpreted the terms. Our agreement stated that you kiss me. Not the other way around."

"Oh." Won't death spare me this humiliation?

She was helpless. She had never kissed a man, only been kissed. This changed everything. It simply was not proper. Come now, Gilly. You haven't been proper since the day Hyde laid eyes upon you. And besides, you want to kiss him.

"All right, Captain Drake. I shall play by your rules."

She rose to her tiptoes and, quick as a rabbit dashing into a briar patch, she pecked him on his mouth.

"There," she said. "It's done. I kissed you." She grinned a self-satisfied smile. "Come back at the next eight bells. I shall be ready."

"Uh-uh. Not quite, la.s.s. That's not at all how I want you to kiss me."

"A kiss is a kiss."

"Nay, la.s.s. That is how you kiss a codfish."

She gasped and her hand flew to her bosom at the insult. "And just how am I supposed to kiss you, Captain? There were no stipulations on the manner of kiss."

"Kiss me as you did last night."

She poked him in his chest. "You kissed me."

"At first, yes. But then you lost your chaste modesty and your voracious appet.i.te took over."

If she could get her hands on his cutla.s.s, she would end her suffering. Gilly glanced over her shoulder. Both Henri and Willie quickly, but not quickly enough, became occupied, pretending miserably not to have been listening in on their exchange. Henri fiddled with his vest pocket and Willie tapped at the compa.s.s he kept fixed to his wheel.

"You need not let shamefulness get the better of you, Miss McCoy. You've nothing to be embarra.s.sed about," Captain Drake said.

She frowned. He did not make things any easier by calling her on her discomfiture.

"Well? I'm waiting."

What a wicked, wicked man. The only way to wipe that smirk from his face was to give him the best kiss he ever had in his wretched life.

Gilly grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and smothered his lips. Long and hard, she pressed against him. He tensed under her grip. His arms reached out, as if to hold her. But he didn't. Nevertheless, she felt his smile. And that pleased her.

She broke free of him. Excitement coursed through her veins. Liberation was hers. She could do that again. Eight more times, in fact.

"'Twas a very nice start," he said. "Now don't look so troubled. I am happy with your kiss. It is my hope that you will work yourself up to last night's performance."

His gaze dropped to the exposed skin of her bosom and lingered. "Sweetling, you are burning. Perhaps you'd like to wait out the next watch in my cabin."

Her skin did feel warm to touch. However, she did not want to be locked away any more than necessary. She admitted that an invitation to stay in his room was tempting. What treasures would she find in there? Did he trust her enough to keep her in his private cabin? How odd, and alarming.

A revelation struck. She wouldn't be alone.

"No," she said. "I prefer to stay topside. 'Twould be a waste to not enjoy this beautiful day."

"Certainly. I shall have a hat brought to you. It will be difficult to keep on with the wind gusts, but please do your best." He cupped her face in his rough palm. "I don't want a sunburn to keep you from your duty to me." He winked and left her to count out the bells until the end of the next watch.

With eyes upon her back, Gilly took a deep breath and spun around to face Willie and Henri. She felt compelled to share with them the meaning behind her improper behavior with their captain.

"Ah, criminy." Henri retrieved a flask from his vest and took a quick swig.

"Capt'n be a resourceful one," said Willie, with a smile.

"It be bad enough havin' a woman on board," Henri groused. "He's just beggin' fer trouble."

"Women are bad luck?"

"Capt'n don' believe in such, Miss McCoy," Willie said.

Henri eyed Gilly with his curmudgeonly pout. "I do." He wagged his finger at Willie. "Lookit what happened ta Tyburn and Fox. Lookit all the trouble we had when they let them la.s.ses on Rissa."

"What kind of trouble?" Didn't Willie tell her they fell in love? She couldn't figure out how love would be trouble.

"It ain't nuthin' to worry ya." Willie s.n.a.t.c.hed Henri's flask away and held it overhead out of the little man's reach.

"Gimme that!"

"Not until ya shut yer trap. Turn around three times, kiss yer witch's knot and throw a farthing in the sea, ya superst.i.tious ol' fool."

Despite their bickering, the two gruff men had an obvious fondness for each other. In some strange way, she found that comforting. Even pirates had friends.

Listening for the tolls soon became a game. Willie explained that the next two watches, the dog watches, were split into two two-hour shifts. She'd only have to wait two hours between rendezvous with the captain. Gilly antic.i.p.ated the half hours and perked up each time someone walked near the ship's bell.

The next two kisses were much like the first one. There was less talking and each kiss lasted longer than the preceding. No-only flames bursting across every raw spot of her body. But the last kiss left her befuddled. Drake had embraced her and her heart had lurched. He wasn't merely receiving a kiss, he was an active partic.i.p.ant. How much would he partic.i.p.ate next time? Her mouth grew dry.

"I need a drink of water," she said.

"I can't be leavin' the wheel, Miss McCoy. Can ya wait for Henri to get back?"

"If he's in the galley preparing the meal, won't he be a while? The rain barrel is just down there." She pointed to the mainmast down on the ship's waist. "I'll be within sight the whole time."

"Well..."

"I promise not to dawdle. Please, Willie?"

"Ah, Jesus. All right. Show a leg, Miss McCoy."

She gave him a confused look. Why would she show him her legs?

"Be quick," he clarified.

Gilly nodded and rushed to the ladder and straight to the rain barrel. The cool water, flavored with a hint of oak, refreshed her parched mouth. She dipped the ladle in and bent for another sip. A hand, fisting a knife, came to rest on the cask's rim. She froze as light glinted from the blade.

"Captain Mott dismissed me from the Rowena. He's heavin' me to the sh.o.r.e at Na.s.sau."

Gilly straightened to face Abel. "You deserve far worse."

"'Cause of you, I ain't got work, I ain't got pay, and I got caned." He shrugged off the shoulders of his tunic, giving her his back. Angry, seeping whelps crisscrossed across his red flesh.

She swallowed back her horror and remembered how he earned the punishment. "You won't find pity with me, Abel. You were going to let me drown and sooner or later you'll have to answer for that."

Abel twisted his repulsive lips into a snarl. "Be well advised, I answer to no one, now."

Gilly looked beyond his shoulder to Willie on the quarterdeck. The helmsman's brow furrowed and he waved her back.

Abel followed her line of sight. "Least of all, the self-righteous dogs of this ship."

"What a foolish thing to say. I understand these men are dangerous. Who are you to insult or defy them?"

"Who are they to call me rotten? Who are they to punish me?"

"Cowards are wont to be imperious and boastful, until they lose. And they always lose, Abel. Then they are weak and sniveling weasels when in the face of judgment. How do you suppose your judgment will end?"

"b.i.t.c.h." In an impossibly fast move, he poised himself so she could not escape his rancid breath. "Watch yourself in Na.s.sau." He flourished the gleaming knife between them, his message clear. "I hear bad things happen to pullets walking the streets alone."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I ain't readin' ya poetry."

"Pray tell, what do we have here?" Valeryn appeared from nowhere. His shadow cast upon them both.

Abel scurried two steps back and palmed his knife.

"Abel's threatening me."

"That so." Valeryn clamped down on Abel's shoulder.

"Just offering a little friendly advice for when she's in port, is all."

"What a thoughtful thing to do."

"Aye, bad men be there and I was stressin' the dangers to the girl." Abel winced under the pain of Valeryn's grip digging into an open lash wound.

"Drop the gully, boy."

The knife clattered to the floor.

"I have the pleasure in saying Captain Drake will be very upset to hear of this. You see, he doesn't accept threats of any kind against a woman, most certainly a physical one."

"I weren't makin' a physical threat," Abel replied.

"Tut! I'll have no lying!"

Valeryn's fingers pitted into Abel's injury. The mean-spirited knave whimpered.

He leaned close to whisper in Abel's ear, but Gilly heard him just the same. "Any man making a threat to a la.s.s, well, Drake sees to it the man suffers a Spanish's torture, by inches. Have you ever seen a man hang by his b.o.l.l.o.c.ks?"

She gasped. Valeryn looked up. Abel's already distorted face under the duress of Valeryn's grip squinted imagining the torture.

"I have a threat of my own," Valeryn added. "Henceforth, I don't want to see your ugly mug for the rest of the voyage. When we reach New Providence, you make haste out of port and leave Na.s.sau. You are not to come within a stone's cast of Miss McCoy again. Do this or Drake's wrath will smite you."

Abel nodded "Gladly. The b.i.t.c.h ain't worth the bother."

Valeryn released Abel. The wretch collapsed to his knees, as if the only thing keeping him upright was Valeryn's hold.

Valeryn scooped up the knife. "Nice fish-gutter." He slipped the knife in his waistband and addressed Gilly. "Captain Drake is expecting us in his quarters." He gestured her toward the hatch.

She glanced up at the helm where Willie stood, shaking his head.

"Is another watch over?"

"Wait up, la.s.s." Valeryn chuckled. "He's expecting us both."

Perhaps she shouldn't be so eager. She slowed for the quartermaster. "Thank you for intervening back there. I fear Abel has a personal grudge against me."

"I fear so, too," he said.

Gilly's gut curdled. The truth of it smacked her into realizing she was still in great danger. She traded one murderous cutthroat for another. And on a ship full of pirates. Exhaustion drained her soul, but there was no time for rest. Would she ever be safe again?

The dark companionway offered a cool reprieve from the afternoon heat. A faint smell of boiled meat tickled her nose and reminded her she hadn't eaten since the early morn. She hoped tonight's supper was enough to fill her belly, for once she left the Rissa, she would not know when her next meal might come. She'd given Captain Drake all her money. Without those coins, she'd be without food or lodging. And how would she pay an apothecary in Na.s.sau for more laudanum? Food and shelter-bah! A few days hungry and cold she could handle, but she couldn't survive without her laudanum. She'd nearly gone mad limiting herself to just nips of the elixir. She must find a way to obtain money.

The captain had been gracious thus far. Mayhap he would return her coins. Nay. He'd make her earn it. How he would make her earn it was the issue. How far would she go to get it was another.