Page 11 of Maggie and the Pirate’s Son

He grinned a cheeky, dimpled smile that made her stomach flutter. “That’s the bit you take issue with? You’re fourteen, and I discovered you were disguised as a woman when I lifted your skirts to tan your hide.”

He stared openly at her bosom for a moment and frowned—not the reaction she was used to, though they’d diminished a bit as she’d grown thinner the last two years, wasting away on that blasted island. Bash rummaged around the alcove some more and handed her an old cream-colored neck cloth. “Will that be long enough to bind them down?”

Heat flared across her cheeks as she both nodded and shrugged, then he turned his back, waiting for her to disrobe.

“You’ll be taken on as part of the crew, a cabin boy, mostly fetch and carry, and mind you behave yourself because next time”—he fingered the brutal whip—“it won’t be private and neither of us will survive.”

“It’s barbaric,” she murmured, getting down to the business of undressing in the tight space. “Could you…?” she asked, turning to give him access to her buttons.

He obliged with quick, nimble fingers, chuckling soft puffs of breath on the back of her neck that made her shiver all the way to her toes.

“Barbaric,” he repeated. “Aye, darlin’.”

Something about the way he said it made Maggie instantly hot between her legs, even as she wanted to want to roll her eyes at him.

“Aye. You’re among pirates now.”

She froze, halfway through wrapping his cravat around her chest. Pirates? Were they not as fictitious as dragons and fairies?

He glanced back at her, and then spun immediately away again, clearing his throat, and she finished pinning the wrap in place. She’d have to come up with something better for the long term. How long would this dreadful voyage last?

“I’ll make it clear you’re under my protection and not to be touched.” He cleared his throat again, trying to dislodge the rasp. “None will dare harm you when I’m around.”

“Because you’re so big and fearsome?” she teased, knotting the linen trousers tight around her waist.

He drew himself up straight. “I’m the boatswain and sailing master of this ship.”

She’d insulted him.

Maggie reached out to touch his arm in apology. Something like lighting sparked from her fingers, and she looked at them in wonder.

Christ, the girl had fairly branded him. He turned to assess her disguise. She had a sweet round face with luminous eyes as deep and blue as the Atlantic. It would be a damn miracle if they pulled off this ruse, but it was the only thing he could think of in the moment. At least the men were drunk most of the time. They’d see what they expected to. If they could mistake a sea cow for a maiden then surely the power of suggestion could turn even a lovely young woman into an untried boy.

“This is a stroke of luck,” he said, reaching out to tug one of her haphazard, short-cropped curls, not at all the locks of a fashionable lady. More electricity jumped between them, and he grinned.

“What?” she asked, touching her neck where the shock must have scorched her.

“St. Elmo’s fire,” he explained. “Once means bad weather. Two times, and it’ll be fine.”

“Thank heavens for that,” she murmured. “Another week of those storms, and I’d be done for.”

“A week?” he laughed. “We’ve been at sea three days, darlin’.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief, and he allowed himself the luxury of cupping her cheek once more under the auspices of pulling down the eyelid with his thumb.

“When did you last drink?”

“Orkney.”

No wonder she looked half dead and couldn’t cry.

“We’ll get you some rum. Drink every drop, understand?”

She nodded.

“And… try and act like your arse has been skelped within an inch of your life?”

She nodded again, with only a slight look of annoyance crossing those eyes, and Christ but this was never going to work. She was too feisty and too beautiful. He was half hard just standing next to her. No one would believe she was a lad for long. He’d have to keep a constant vigilance. Even pretending she was a boy wouldn’t keep her safe. There were some among their ranks who’d be just as happy to take a boy as a woman.