“I can walk.” I kick my legs half-heartedly.
“You can, but I’d rather carry you.” He slides his hand down and squeezes my ass. “Much more enjoyable this way.”
“James!” I squeal, but he only squeezes harder.
“Keep that up, lass, and I’ll have to warm you up the old-fashioned way.” He leans down and bites my ear.
“Didn’t I tell you that you should work on your threats?” I squirm in his hold.
“Not a threat, lass. Never a threat when it comes to you.” He winds his way in between some scraggly bushes then enters the shallow cave. “This’ll do nicely.” Lowering me slowly, he backs me up and sits me on a low ledge of stone. “Stay put.”
“I will.” I wave a hand at him. “Go do your pirate stuff. I’m fine here.”
He shakes his head. “Pirate stuff?”
“You know, yell at your crew and call them land lubbers or something.”
“I’ll get right on that.” He grips the nape of my neck and drops a kiss on my lips. “Don’t move, lass. I mean it. Sky and Starkey will be bringing firewood in two shakes.”
“Okay! I’m not moving.” I cross my arms over my chest.
He gives me a long stare that warms me to my toes despite my wet clothes. “Don’t move.” He backs away, keeping me in view for as long as he can.
When he turns, he immediately starts barking orders about timber, tar, and nails.
I lean back, the stone wall not exactly comfortable but not too bad. For a shipwrecked, drenched, and all-around worn-out person, I’m doing all right for myself. I’m still alive, anyway. That’s something. And I believe we’re going to make it to the Fairy Village. I have to hold onto that thought, because if I let it go—if I let it go, I’ll realize how I’m in way over my head, how I don’t have the strength to keep going, and how I’m not brave enough to see it through. So, I keep my happy thoughts and focus on moving forward.
My eyes close as I listen to the sound of the sea that echoes strangely in this little alcove. Hook is still being bossy, and I hear Smee arguing with Cecco about the location of a barrel of nails.
“Well don’t you look like a sloppy cunt after a night of jezebelling?”
I startle at the voice, then freeze when I see a woman in a tricorn hat pointing a gun at my face.
Chapter
Eleven
“You must be Anne.” I hold my shaking hands up to show I’m unarmed.
For being as loud and verbally abusive as she is, she’s quite small and almost delicate in her features. Her hair is close-cropped, and her eyes have a beautiful almond shape to them, though her eyebrows bear lines that must be scars. Soaking wet, as she is now, I can’t imagine she’d weigh much more than 100 pounds. But I’ve heard enough about her to know I shouldn’t underestimate her, especially not when she’s pointing a gun at me.
She gives me an unimpressed glare. “CaptainAnne to you.”
“Sorry.” I immediately feel stupid for apologizing. She’s here to kill me. I would be an idiot to think otherwise.
“Sorry, are you? Sorry for wrecking my ship or killing my husband? Which are you sorry for?” Her voice has a Caribbean lilt to it.
“I didn’t do either.”
Her eyes narrow. “That’s not true, now, is it?” She hikes a leg up on the stone beside me and leans forward on her knee. “You’re the reason my Calico Jack is dead, and also the reason why my beloved ship is in pieces. All my crew lost. Every last one of those sorry dogs.”
“You loved Jack?” I don’t know why I ask.
“Loved him?” She scoffs. After giving me another up and down look—and clearly deciding I’m no threat—she stows her gun, then grabs the side of her gray shirt and wrings the water out. “I never loved that lying sack of piss, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t mine.” She whips her hat off and runs a hand through her short blonde hair, then flings the water away and replaces her hat.
I glance toward the beach.
“You can yell, little witch, but I promise I’ll slit your throat before anyone comes to save you.” She snarls and taps a blade at her side.
