Page 88 of Paid to the Pirate

I shrugged. “You can’t seem to clean yourself.”

You lied to me,I reasoned.Made a fool of me. Threatened my command, my captaincy. Anyone else would do far worse.

Charlie didn’t budge.

“I would have been within my rights to lash you,” I said. “To toss you overboard.”

“Do it!” Charlie cried. “I’d rather die at sea then suffer your touch.”

“Enough,” I growled. “Strip your clothes or I’ll strip them for you.”

I was certain the little hellcat would make it as difficult for me as possible, screaming and thrashing. I readied myself for a fight I’d take pleasure in.

Perhaps she saw, and perhaps that was why Charlotte surprised me by changing course. She stripped her clothing as quickly as possible and jumped in the bath before I could get an eyeful, other than her striped rear.

I tried not to smirk. I didn’t try to stop my erection. Any pirate worth his salt knew not to fight a battle he was sure to lose.

Charlie hissed as the water hit the sore flesh of her backside. Maybe that’s why I took pity and amended, “Only your hair. You’re free to wash the rest of you. I won’t touch what’s below your neck.”

Scowling, Charlotte looked as if she’d claw my eyes out, given the chance. Instead, she gave me her back and drew her knees to her chest, hiding herself as best she could.

Using the pitcher, I poured water on her shorn hair. But when I began to wash with the soap, Charlie stiffened away, forcing me to place my hand on her neck to draw her back.

I washed Charlie’s spikey hair, again wondering what it would look like grown out, and I let my hands clean behind her ears and down her neck.

“I revile your touch,” she declared, sneering at me over her shoulder. The palpable hatred from Charlie seemed to emanate from every pore in her body. She conveyed the fury with every flash of her eyes. Every flare of her nostrils. Each angry twitch of her lips.

God, she was beautiful.

How could any of us mistake her for a boy? What a mockery she made of my leadership.Jesus, was Robert stirring up the men to vote me out as captain, even now?

The idea made me so angry I stepped away from the tub to stop myself from squeezing the very neck I washed. I’d worked so hard to secure command ofThe Dark Bladeover Robert, and she might have stolen it all from me. A smarter captain might have given Charlotte over to the men to assuage their tempers at her ruse. Let them humiliate her for how she’d humiliated them.

Is that what you’re doing for yourself?asked a voice in my head.

As Charlie finished washing I was unsure whether I wanted to continue her degradation by making her rise from the tub to dress in front of me, or whether I needed to step away to keep myself from belting her rear all over again.

I was saved from having to make a decision by a knock from Estelle, who appeared holding the requested gown and promptly ordered me to “leave the women to their business.”

I grunted at her command, but obediently shuffled outside the door to wait.

And wait, I did. God only knew what took them so long. I had begun to worry that Charlie used her skillful tongue to convince Estelle to help her escape when the door finally opened.

A vision appeared before me, an angel. For several moments, I stood slack jawed.

Charlie wore a gown of white with tiny flowers of the palest blue. Ruffled trim hugged the outline of the dress, which hung a little loose on her slight frame. I’d briefly wondered if Estelle would produce a wig, but she’d arranged Charlie’s stubby hair with a pearled clip and silvery hair net so artfully that it almost looked as if the girl had simply swept her hair into an elegant style one might find back in London. Estelle had fastened a blue-stoned earbob to each ear and applied a rouge to Charlie’s lips and cheeks. I was sure other womanly tricks had been applied, but that was all I could discern.

Maybe I should keep her for a few more weeks,I reasoned.Or perhaps months, as she needed more filling out for dresses such as this.

Charlie wore a curious expression I couldn’t read. The way her face hid her emotions vexed me, raised my guard. Did she like such a dress or resent being stuffed into it?

Conniving minx. Stunning beauty. Liar.

Lover.

She could be. All those confusing feelings Charlie always stirred in me -- that need to protect -- could be justified.

If she didn’t hate me enough to wish my death.

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