Page 39 of Scourge of the Shores
Examining his profile as she thought, he glanced at her.
“You like what you see?” he teased.
She rolled her eyes. “No. I’s just rememberin’ the story ye told me ‘bout yer mother.”
“Aye?” he asked. Pain flashed across his face as if she’d caught him off guard. A flicker that made Danna question her preconceptions about him. Pirates were hardened men. Nothing hurt them.
She licked her lip before deciding to continue the conversation. “Losing yer mom in that struggle as a lad. . . can tell it’s hard on ye.”
Robert’s head drooped. “Aye, but Father told me, ‘Sorrow is for the weak.’” He narrowed his eyes as he stared at the sand beneath their feet as they walked.
Danna nodded. “It’s tough on the seas, ain’t it? Said it to keep ye alive, eh?”
A bitter grin arose on his lips. “Aye.”
Her thoughts drifted to Ma. Losing her and not being allowed to grieve would be more than she could bear.
“Ma,” she started but realized she said it aloud, and Robert turned his gaze to her. The urge to keep talking forced her to speak. “She—she ain’t a pirate either.”
Robert lifted an eyebrow. “Well, she doesn’t have the pirate slang,” he chuckled.
“Neither do ye,” Danna said.
“My father again is to blame. Taught me how to present myself in case I ever needed to escape a predicament.”
Danna hummed in thought before replying. “That’s why ye’re the leader of the Pirate Kings?”
Robert laughed. “Aye, for now at least.” He returned his attention to her. “How did Ma end up here?”
She eyed him as he pushed the subject back to her. There was more to Robert “The Ruthless” Jaymes, and she couldn’t tell if it was bad or good.
“Me father fell in love and brought her here. He died, and she blames him for leaving her. When I was eight, Cain attacked, took her limbs. Never been the same since.”
His eyes glimmered in the sunlight. “If I could heal your mother, I would. But I tell you the truth, that enchantment’s very rare, and I’d be lucky if I ever found it in my whole life at sea.”
Danna froze mid-step. Her breath hitched. “Ye’d—” She blinked at him. “Ye’d do that?”
Robert cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin as his eyes searched hers. “Aye,” he said. “For me friend.”
A smile tugged at her lips before she caught herself. Her chest tightened. His touch was addicting, but she stepped back like she could shake him away. “That’s enough, Jaymes.”
He dropped his hand and smirked. “Just testin’ the waters, mate.”
“Well, don’t do it again.” Her cheeks flushed.
“As ye wish,” he said, pirate grit in full force.
“Stop it,” she said. “I don’t like when ye talk like that. Feels like it’s mockin’.”
“It’s not mockin’,” he said. “I’s taught both ways: the pirate, the civilized. They’re both part of me.”
Danna chuckled at the absurdity before she saw the value in it. He was right—having more than one way of presenting oneself had its uses. She rolled her shoulder and cracked her neck. “Well . . . Hope it serves ye well.”
Robert studied her, then gave a single nod.
There was something about how he watched her, calculating behind the mischievous banter as if he were figuring out which way the tide was turning.
“Do you want to continue north?” he asked.
