Page 184 of Storm over the Caribbean
“We will set sail again. And we will find both the pirates and AmbroseSahiband theSahiba.”
“But, Mr Karim, Sir…we’ve combed this part of the ocean for days upon days now, and haven’t found a single thing!”
“Of course we’re combing the ocean! Where else are we supposed to look? On land?” Karim’s fist slammed against the side of the nearest ship and a snarl erupted from his throat. “Do you think pirates would suddenly beach their ship and become bank robbers?”
The sailors cowered under his glare.
“Of course not, Sir!”
“You’re quite right, Sir!”
Karim gave a grim nod. “Good. Now get moving!”
“Aye aye, Sir! Right away, Sir!”
***
The very next morning, Mr Ambrose ordered the ship to be turned around. When the pirates asked why, all my dear husband said in response was: “Heading back to the bank.”
Needless to say, all the pirates were quite impressed with their captain’s guts. Robbing the same place twice in a week? Nowthatwas pirating with style!
Thus, only a few hours later, our ship was anchored in a hidden, natural harbour not far away from the city of Hamilton, and I found myself climbing down into a dinghy that was to take us ashore. Something that would have been a lot easier without a bulging belly, let me tell you.
“Remember,” Mr Ambrose instructed, his cold eyes boring into the first mate, who stood at the railing above. “If we have not returned within the hour, you are to implement the plan.”
“Aye aye, Sir!” The first mate nodded solemnly.
“Oomph!” With athud, I let myself slide from the last rung of the rope ladder, landing in the dinghy. It probably said something about my current state that, even with Mr Ambrose in the other half, this made the boat tilt noticeably in my direction.
Mr Ambrose cocked his head, gazing at me.
“Not a word!” I raised a single finger. “Not. A. Word.Especiallynot the f-word!”
His gaze lowered, focusing on my belly.
Goddammit! How does he do it? How is that son of a bachelor able to insinuate I’m fat without saying a word?
And the worst thing? Without him saying anything, I couldn’t even complain about it!
Reaching out to steady me, he gazed into my eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay behind?”
I opened my mouth to shoot back a biting retort—then met his eyes, and the words caught in my throat. Such deep, dark, unfathomable eyes. Sea-coloured orbs akin to pools of icy water, filled with ferocity and…concern?
I swallowed.
“We’re just going to visit the bank,” I told him. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
He sent me a look. “Mr Linton?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know one reason why I speak so seldom?”
“Err…no?”
“It is a simple way to avoid famous last words.”
One corner of my mouth quirked. “As well as any others. Let’s go, shall we? I’d like to have time to stop at the market on the way back. Maybe I’ll be lucky and find some stall that sells ice cream and mustard on toast.”
