Page 147 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Oy! Piss off, blockhead!” a high-pitched voice demanded from several feet below eye level.
“Mind your own business, squirt!” The pirate grunted—then turned his angry glare back at me. “Well, Fatty? What do you say?”
I glanced between the angry pirate and my pregnant belly. Bloody hell! What was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t just refuse! That would seem far too suspicious! If the pirates got even a hint of the fact that my current “disguise” wasn’t actually a disguise…
“Come on, what are you waiting for, laggard?” the pirate grunted, shoving the chest towards me before I could finish thinking. “Take it already, you bloody—”
Just then, a heavy hand landed on the man’s free shoulder.
“Huh? What—”
Growling, the pirate turned—and came face-to-stony-visage with Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
“You,” he spoke, staring at the man with an intensity that would have made a serial killer jealous, “arenotgoing to make this person carry anything.”
“But Captain, it ain’t fair! Those things are bloody heavy! We—”
“Oh, you feel the load you are carrying is too heavy?” Mr Ambrose’s hand squeezed the other man’s shoulder, his eyes glittering dangerously. “You feel I should lighten it?”
“Err…well, yes.” Not seeming to read the situation very well, the pirate nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely! I—”
“I see,” Mr Ambrose’s hand on the man’s shoulder tightened some more. “Then how about I relieve you of your head? You’ll feel much lighter without it, I promise.”
Never had I seen a man run so fast while carrying almost two hundred pounds.
“What are you staring at?” Mr Ambrose barked at the rest of the pirates. “Get moving!”
“Aye aye, Captain!”
Quickly, they hurried away. Mr Ambrose didn’t. I didn’t. He stood there until the men were out of sight. Then, reaching out, he gently cupped my face.
“Are you all right?”
“Y-you really shouldn’t.” Swallowing, I glanced around. “If someone saw—”
“Are. You. All. Right?”
The look in his eyes… It was something else. He’d looked at me like I was the most precious treasure in the world before. But now? Now he was looking at me as if Iwasthe world. And as if he’d burn down the rest of the universe just to keep me safe.
I swallowed.
“Y-yes.” His hand on my face felt so warm. So reassuring. And for once, I didn’t mind being treated as if I were fragile. Foronce, I just basked in the stolen moment, “Yes, I feel spiffing, Captain.”
I smirked at the miniscule narrowing of his eyes. “What, you don’t like your new title? Seemed to me like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit, oh Terror of the Seven Seas.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. “I am merely taking appropriate measures against my competition.”
“Sure, sure.” My smirk widening, I reached out to cup his face—then suddenly extended my fingers to cover his left eye instead. “Hm…I think I know what I’ll get you for your next birthday. An eyepatch would look great on you, don’t you think?”
I felt the twitching of his facial muscle intensify beneath my hand.
“I donotenjoy being a pirate, Mr Linton.”
“You don’t?”
“Most certainly not!”
In answer, I reached out, stuck a hand into his pocket, and pulled out several pieces of golden jewellery and documents detailing various future shipments of goods that he must have “borrowed” from the warehouse.
