Page 47 of Paid to the Pirate

I averted my eyes and Colt gently squeezed my chin -- a reminder to look up.

How could I not desire him? How could any woman resist? It wasn’t fair.The Lord shouldn’t make men this horrible, this handsome.

He’d take nothing from the words and yet he’d take everything. I’d rather have him molest me than make me say it.

Cocky, arrogant eyebrows raised impatiently over dark eyes. The sun set behind him, haloing him like a bloody god.

I licked my salty lips. “I desire you.”

The smug smile I knew would appear did not disappoint. His face lit with triumph.

“Was that so difficult?”

“Would it matter if it was?”

“Of course. I rather enjoy causing you difficulty.”

Huffing, I attempted to push myself off his body, but he didn’t relent his grip. I relaxed only slightly, expecting more molestation, but Colt unnerved me even more by not groping my breast or squeezing my rear. He stroked my cheekbones gently, almost reverently, staring at me with awe. Somehow, it was more intimate than if he’d slid his fingers into my open sex.

But if he had… he wouldn’t have met with any resistance.

#

Having recently won a battle and with the impending arrival at port, spirits were high on the ship that evening. News spread of my assistance with Colt in slaying my attacker, and the crew seemed friendlier toward me throughout the night. No one dared engage me in conversation, but I received many smiles or at least a tip of the head in acknowledgement of my service.

For the first time, I shared a table above deck -- with Miguel, Conks, Johnson, and Colt. I didn’t speak much but I couldn’t deny it felt nice to be included. The stars shone brightly, seeming to bless the meal. With the promise of replenishing our stores on the morn, Miguel used a bevy of citrus fruits to enhance the rum, and we all drank happily, though not too heartily, at the captain’s command.Save it for tomorrow night, boys,he advised.

When tables were cleared, someone broke out the fiddles and the men laughed and sang. I did not want to be enchanted, but such is the nature of enchantments that a victim is helpless to the spell.

Was it the rum?

Each song became a longing tune in my heart, subtle at first, then faster and faster, as if I swirled and danced under the magical incantation. I hadn’t moved from my seat on the bench, but I felt swept away into a realm so different from the one I’d known that I might as well have been in another world.

A dream world, with pirate captains so handsome, they make my heart ache just to look upon them. A world with captains who do things such wickedly delicious between my legs, it makes my body shake and spasm until I fall apart. A world with a man like Colt, whose gaze makes me feel like he can see into my soul.

Maybe it all was just a dream and if so, my actions had no consequence. It didn’t matter that I succumbed to the magical swirl.

Grasping my skirts, I stood --

-- and I sang.

I began a wistful, melancholic sea shanty, singing for these pirates as I had sung many nights for the men in our tavern.

Immediate silence fell. I nearly faltered, scared I’d horrified them, until I saw the looks on their faces. From the surprise, I guessed that I had never given them a song in my past. Gathering my courage, I continued, moving away from the bench and to the center of the tables.

I poured my soul into that song, closing my eyes at parts that meant the most to me.

When I opened them as I finished, I was again met with total silence.

It was Johnson who clapped first. Conks quickly followed, hooting and cheering. I broke into a relieved smile as the rest of the men joined in. Looking them over, I met Colt’s eyes.

He wasn’t clapping. He wasn’t even moving. He stared at me like he’d never seen me before. Whatever I’d done in the past, I was now sure I’d never sung for these men.

“Another!” someone shouted. “Give us another!”

Smiling tentatively, I ripped my gaze from Colt’s. The fiddle struck up a familiar tune and the rum warmed my blood. I sang again, and again, to the pleasure of the men. Sometimes they joined in a chorus, sometimes they simply stared. It was like my nights in the tavern, but much more enchanting beneath the shining stars and above the rollicking sea. A light breeze blew, fanning my hair, and I felt like I was the wind too, like my voice carried out and through the men, joining them.

We were connected in those moments. I felt a part of the crew.

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