PotC -- Treasure
More Pirates!
Jack/Elizabeth PG
set sometime in the future, no specific spoilers for Dead Man's Chest
Lieutenant Rawlins of the East India Company ship Caroline squinted through his telescope at the far horizon. It was a gorgeous tropical day with a following sea, a few clouds high and distant, the sun sparkling on the water as it prepared to set into the blue waters of the Caribbean. It was the sort of day that one ought to face untroubled. Except that he kept thinking he saw a sail.
One of the passengers came up to the rail and stood beside him, and in the face of a lady, Rawlins lowered the telescope.
“Do you see anything, Lieutenant?” she asked in a tone that held more concern than it should.
Rawlins smiled reassuringly. “Not likely, Mrs. Green. A stray shift of cloud, perhaps. At the edge of the horizon a cloud can look for a moment like a topgallant.”
Mrs. Green was very lovely, with windblown brown hair that kept escaping from beneath her broad-brimmed hat, slender as a willow in a gown the color of new leaves. She was the only female passenger, on her way to Nevis to join her husband who had been stationed somewhere nearby. Rawlins thought that if he were her young husband, he’d be reluctant to leave her behind too. There was something about her eyes that transformed her face from mere prettiness to the kind of beauty that painters wanted to capture.
“I hope that you’re certain, Lieutenant,” she said, with a barely concealed tremor in her voice. “One hears so much about pirates in these waters.”
Rawlins patted the rail fondly. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you, Mrs. Green. The Caroline is an extremely fast ship. We should be able to show any pirates our tail. And if there needs to be further discouragement, we’ve a pair of carronades mounted both fore and aft. That should be enough to warn off any trouble.”
“I hope so,” Mrs. Green said. She laid one gloved hand on the rail.
There were other passengers above decks too, Mr. Shockley of the East India Company, who was traveling with the massive pay chest of the Company, bound for Mr. Beckett in Port Royal, Mr. Reid, the youthful representative of an indigo company, Mr. Charleton, the new secretary to the Governor of Jamaica, and the elderly Sir Humphrey Hilton, who was returning to the Indies for his health, due to a cough that would not abate in the cold and damp of Yorkshire. All the passengers were taking the air.
The sun set picturesquely into the sea, and Mrs. Green shivered.
“If you are cold, ma’am, may I suggest you repair below? Dinner should be served promptly,” Rawlins said, with a glance toward the sea. He thought, out of the corner of his eye, that he had seen a sail glimmering briefly, far enough above the sea to catch the slanting light. He thought about going aloft to see if he could spot it from the height of the mainmast.
Mrs. Green put her hand on his arm, and it trembled a little. “Will you escort me, Lieutenant?”
“Of course,” he said gallantly, and took her below.
Rawlins had the morning watch, so he was still asleep in his hammock when he was wakened by the shouting. It was just short of dawn.
“All hands on deck! All hands on deck! Stand by to come about!”
Rawlins tumbled out of his hammock and landed on his feet, running on deck before his eyes were even properly open.
In the clear gray light of a tropic dawn another ship was running down on them, the wind behind her and her sails stretched, black against the sky.
“Pirates!” someone screamed.
“Where’s the captain?” Rawlins yelled. Captain Jones was absent from the quarterdeck, surely peculiar given the situation.
“Not here, sir!” the second lieutenant, the one with the night watch, called back. “He hasn’t come on deck.”
“Wilson, go find him.” Rawlins grabbed one of the ship’s boys. “See what’s wrong.” He leapt to the rail.
“Hard to port!” the second ordered, trying to turn the Caroline away from the other ship.
There was a flash of something light by the main companionway, Mrs. Green, come on deck to see what the fuss was, her dress pale against the dark sea.
“She won’t answer, sir!” the helmsman shouted back, his eyes wide.
Rawlins grabbed the wheel. She spun too loosely in his grasp. He could feel no bite.
“Harriman, go see what’s wrong with the wheel,” he shouted to the second. The pirate ship was bearing down on them, looming larger and larger. There was not enough wind to make way on her, especially if they could not steer.
Mrs. Green was at his elbow, her hat lost and her hair streaming. “Pirates? Oh dear God!” He hoped she wouldn’t faint. He really had no time for that.
The helmsman was standing by empty handed, gawking at her approach. “That’s the Black Pearl, that is, ma’am. She’s a fearsome sight in these waters.” Closer and closer she came, her ports open and her broadside threatening.
Mrs. Green sounded as though she could barely breathe. “That’s Jack Sparrow’s ship, isn’t it? He’s supposed to be the most ruthless villain of all.”
The Captain came tearing on deck, his face set and furious. “My cabin door was barred shut,” he said, and looked aft. “Oh, shit. Begging your pardon, Mrs. Green. And you should go below.”
“The wheel won’t respond,” Rawlins explained.
Harriman added something as he came running up. “The rudder chains are cut, sir! We’ve no steerage at all!”
The Pearl came closer. Rawlins could see men in her rigging.
“Run out the carronades,” the captain shouted. “We’ve got the range on them with the carronades, and we have to fire before they get in range. And get men on that chain right now!”
Mrs. Green clutched the rail breathlessly, watching doom approaching.
There was the rattle and thump as the guns were run out, the sound of swift feel running for powder and shot.
“Captain!” It was Harriman again. “The guns have been spiked!”
The captain seemed to deflate in a moment. “Spiked?”
“Yes, sir. All four. It will take a little while….”
The Pearl came into range. On her quarterdeck a bright figure gave them a mocking bow and called across the distance. “Prepare to receive boarders! If you surrender, you’ll be spared!”
The Captain looked from the pirate to Mrs. Green, to the other passengers huddled like birds in the shadow of the taffrail.
“They want the pay chest,” Rawlins said. “The East India Company pay chest. If we give it to them, perhaps they’ll be content with that. We have no one worth ransoming.”
“They’ll kill us,” Mr. Reid, the young salesman, said.
The Captain sighed. “No, they won’t. I know Sparrow. He wants the money. That’s what he’s after.”
“Sir, that is the Company’s money!” Mr. Shockley huffed.
“No,” the Captain said, “That’s the money that’s going to save our lives.”
“Heave to!” Shouted the Pearl’s captain, “Or regretfully I will have to blow you up.” He did not seem such a big man as his reputation would lead one to believe, only a little taller than average, with long black hair in elaborate braids.
The Captain gave the order, his head down, still arguing with Mr. Shockley.
Rawlins touched Mrs. Green’s elbow. “Ma’am, you should go bar yourself in your cabin.” His voice was gentle, trying to alarm her as little as possible.
Her eyes grew very wide. “Lieutenant, do you think so?”
“It’s safer, ma’am. In case of shot.”
Two jolly boats were lowered swiftly over the Black Pearl’s side, each bristling with buccaneers. They were a motley lot, but desperate men all.
With a frisson of terror, Mrs. Green bolted and ran for her cabin.
Rawlins made the lines ready for the boarders to come aboard, looking out over the rail.
The man who had spoken must be Sparrow, and he was unmistakable in the stern of the first boat, red head cloth over braids, beard worked into antique points, nattily attired in a new crimson brocade waistcoat over well worn breeches. He scrambled up the side as soon as the boat came along, using one hand for the lines only, his sword in the other hand. His eyes raked the deck as thoroughly as canister shot. He said something Rawlins didn’t hear, and his men spread out to cover the crew.
Rawlins put his sword at his feet.
The Caroline was secured in moments.
Sparrow swayed up to the Captain, lifting one hand like a pantomime prince, gold teeth glistening. “Bring out yer treasure.”
The Captain seemed speechless. “Um….”
“The pay chest, sir,” Rawlins said. “We will surrender the pay chest to you, sir, without resistance, if you will spare the lives of passengers and crew.”
Sparrow swung around to face him. His eyes were black beneath the kohl on his brows. “Ah yes! The East India pay chest! I expect to see that immediately! And also your rum.”
“Rum?”
“Rum. It’s a kind of fermented spirit that comes in bottles or barrels.” Sparrow touched his chest with one finger. He wore three gold rings on that hand alone. “Savvy?”
“I know what rum is,” Rawlins said, taking an inadvertent step back. “Why do you want it?’
“To drink,” Sparrow said very distinctly, as though talking to an infant or an imbecile. “We’ll take your rum aboard. And bring up your passengers. I want them lined up on deck.”
“Why?” Rawlins felt that he was asking some necessary questions.
“To rob,” Sparrow said. He looked at the Captain. “Are all your men this thick?” He made a revolving motion next to his head.
The Captain made a choked sound. Reid and Sir Humphrey, Shockley and Charleton were being herded into a rough line on the maindeck by four or five vile looking men with cutlasses, Shockley protesting all the while. Other pirates were loading the pay chest and some other chests and barrels over the side into the jolly boats.
“I say! That’s my luggage!” Sir Humphrey exclaimed as one chest went over.
“And maybe you have some nice things in it,” Sparrow said, looking him up and down. “Though I don’t think your clothes would suit. Not my style, really. Much too pastel. I can never make pastels work for me, really.” He turned to Rawlins. “Are these all the passengers?”
“Yes,” Rawlins lied, hoping Mrs. Green was barred in her cabin.
“Liar,” Sparrow grinned, looking past him.
Mrs. Green was being marched up the companionway by two swarthy fellows, her face pale in the first light of the rising sun. She stumbled into line next to Shockley.
Sparrow plucked the sapphire stick pin from Shockley’s cravat. “That’s a pretty bauble.” He glanced at Mrs. Green, and a long slow smile illuminated his face. “And so is that.”
Mrs. Green lifted her head and met his eyes.
“Oh yes,” Sparrow said. “Very pretty.” He put one hand on her chin, raising it roughly, then ran it down her long white neck and along the side of her collar, dropping at last to cup one breast. “Sweeting, what a plaything you are.”
Rawlins jumped at him.
Two pirates grabbed his arms and slammed him back against the base of the mainmast. “Not so fast,” one of them muttered.
Rawlins kicked out, and one of them gave him a neat roundhouse in the midsection that left his eyes watering and him gasping for breath.
Mrs. Green didn’t move or speak, just stood looking into the pirate’s face like a monkey mesmerized by a snake.
“Take her with us,” Sparrow said, turning away. “Plenty of time for you later, darlin’.”
“No!” Shockley protested.
“I cannot….” The Captain began.
Sparrow’s sword rang clear of its sheath. “She comes with us, savvy?” The point was against the Captain’s midsection. “Take her.”
Behind him, the pirates had finished loading the boats. One hustled Mrs. Green to the lines. It was all happening so fast that the other passengers hardly seemed to register what was happening.
Rawlins tried to take one full breath. God, what a roundhouse!
Now she was over the side, the top of her head descending past the gunwhales. Pirates followed. Sparrow was the last over the side, sword in hand.
When his head had cleared the deck, Rawlins staggered to the rail.
“Fix the chain! Clear the guns!” The Captain was yelling to someone else.
Rawlins looked across at the Black Pearl, her broadside fiercely close. Pirates were swarming up her side with chests and barrels, Mrs. Green ascending just ahead of the Captain with surprising agility.
The sun at last lifted clear of the sea, a freshening breeze pulling at them, widening the distance a little.
“I don’t care what you have to do!” The Captain yelled, “Get that carronade operative!”
The Black Pearl was setting sail, the boats being hauled up. Sparrow was amidships, looking aloft, presumably giving orders to get underway.
Someone in the crew was in the pay of the pirates. It must be. Someone had fouled the rudder chain, spiked the guns and barred the captain’s door in the night. He would find out who if it was the last thing he did. He would have the crew turn out their kit. Someone had been paid in pirate gold.
As the Black Pearl turned, Rawlins caught a glimpse of Mrs. Green’s bright dress on the quarterdeck. He did not even like to imagine what her fate must be, and he vowed to avenge her, leaning helpless on the rail as the Pearl slid away, her sails belling.
Gibbs was at the wheel, turning hard as the sails filled, the Pearl turning away from the stricken merchant. She watched the Caroline receding quickly into the distance.
Jack Sparrow bounded up the quarterdeck stairs, a wolfish grin on his face. “All well, me sweet Bess?”
“All’s well, Jack.”
“Mr. Beckett will be missin’ his pay chest. I told ye it was a good plan.” He sounded extremely pleased with himself. “And what am I to do with this pretty bauble?”
“Of course it was a good plan. It’s my plan.” She slid her arms around him, leaning up to kiss him in full view of the crew. Gibbs rolled his eyes.
It was quite a kiss, and went on as long as anyone could want, her arms around his waist, gathering him to her. Jack sounded a little breathless when he pulled away. “Ye make a fair pirate,” he allowed.
Can you tell I usually write historical in the Age of Sail? *g*
Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Jack/Elizabeth PG
set sometime in the future, no specific spoilers for Dead Man's Chest
Lieutenant Rawlins of the East India Company ship Caroline squinted through his telescope at the far horizon. It was a gorgeous tropical day with a following sea, a few clouds high and distant, the sun sparkling on the water as it prepared to set into the blue waters of the Caribbean. It was the sort of day that one ought to face untroubled. Except that he kept thinking he saw a sail.
One of the passengers came up to the rail and stood beside him, and in the face of a lady, Rawlins lowered the telescope.
“Do you see anything, Lieutenant?” she asked in a tone that held more concern than it should.
Rawlins smiled reassuringly. “Not likely, Mrs. Green. A stray shift of cloud, perhaps. At the edge of the horizon a cloud can look for a moment like a topgallant.”
Mrs. Green was very lovely, with windblown brown hair that kept escaping from beneath her broad-brimmed hat, slender as a willow in a gown the color of new leaves. She was the only female passenger, on her way to Nevis to join her husband who had been stationed somewhere nearby. Rawlins thought that if he were her young husband, he’d be reluctant to leave her behind too. There was something about her eyes that transformed her face from mere prettiness to the kind of beauty that painters wanted to capture.
“I hope that you’re certain, Lieutenant,” she said, with a barely concealed tremor in her voice. “One hears so much about pirates in these waters.”
Rawlins patted the rail fondly. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you, Mrs. Green. The Caroline is an extremely fast ship. We should be able to show any pirates our tail. And if there needs to be further discouragement, we’ve a pair of carronades mounted both fore and aft. That should be enough to warn off any trouble.”
“I hope so,” Mrs. Green said. She laid one gloved hand on the rail.
There were other passengers above decks too, Mr. Shockley of the East India Company, who was traveling with the massive pay chest of the Company, bound for Mr. Beckett in Port Royal, Mr. Reid, the youthful representative of an indigo company, Mr. Charleton, the new secretary to the Governor of Jamaica, and the elderly Sir Humphrey Hilton, who was returning to the Indies for his health, due to a cough that would not abate in the cold and damp of Yorkshire. All the passengers were taking the air.
The sun set picturesquely into the sea, and Mrs. Green shivered.
“If you are cold, ma’am, may I suggest you repair below? Dinner should be served promptly,” Rawlins said, with a glance toward the sea. He thought, out of the corner of his eye, that he had seen a sail glimmering briefly, far enough above the sea to catch the slanting light. He thought about going aloft to see if he could spot it from the height of the mainmast.
Mrs. Green put her hand on his arm, and it trembled a little. “Will you escort me, Lieutenant?”
“Of course,” he said gallantly, and took her below.
Rawlins had the morning watch, so he was still asleep in his hammock when he was wakened by the shouting. It was just short of dawn.
“All hands on deck! All hands on deck! Stand by to come about!”
Rawlins tumbled out of his hammock and landed on his feet, running on deck before his eyes were even properly open.
In the clear gray light of a tropic dawn another ship was running down on them, the wind behind her and her sails stretched, black against the sky.
“Pirates!” someone screamed.
“Where’s the captain?” Rawlins yelled. Captain Jones was absent from the quarterdeck, surely peculiar given the situation.
“Not here, sir!” the second lieutenant, the one with the night watch, called back. “He hasn’t come on deck.”
“Wilson, go find him.” Rawlins grabbed one of the ship’s boys. “See what’s wrong.” He leapt to the rail.
“Hard to port!” the second ordered, trying to turn the Caroline away from the other ship.
There was a flash of something light by the main companionway, Mrs. Green, come on deck to see what the fuss was, her dress pale against the dark sea.
“She won’t answer, sir!” the helmsman shouted back, his eyes wide.
Rawlins grabbed the wheel. She spun too loosely in his grasp. He could feel no bite.
“Harriman, go see what’s wrong with the wheel,” he shouted to the second. The pirate ship was bearing down on them, looming larger and larger. There was not enough wind to make way on her, especially if they could not steer.
Mrs. Green was at his elbow, her hat lost and her hair streaming. “Pirates? Oh dear God!” He hoped she wouldn’t faint. He really had no time for that.
The helmsman was standing by empty handed, gawking at her approach. “That’s the Black Pearl, that is, ma’am. She’s a fearsome sight in these waters.” Closer and closer she came, her ports open and her broadside threatening.
Mrs. Green sounded as though she could barely breathe. “That’s Jack Sparrow’s ship, isn’t it? He’s supposed to be the most ruthless villain of all.”
The Captain came tearing on deck, his face set and furious. “My cabin door was barred shut,” he said, and looked aft. “Oh, shit. Begging your pardon, Mrs. Green. And you should go below.”
“The wheel won’t respond,” Rawlins explained.
Harriman added something as he came running up. “The rudder chains are cut, sir! We’ve no steerage at all!”
The Pearl came closer. Rawlins could see men in her rigging.
“Run out the carronades,” the captain shouted. “We’ve got the range on them with the carronades, and we have to fire before they get in range. And get men on that chain right now!”
Mrs. Green clutched the rail breathlessly, watching doom approaching.
There was the rattle and thump as the guns were run out, the sound of swift feel running for powder and shot.
“Captain!” It was Harriman again. “The guns have been spiked!”
The captain seemed to deflate in a moment. “Spiked?”
“Yes, sir. All four. It will take a little while….”
The Pearl came into range. On her quarterdeck a bright figure gave them a mocking bow and called across the distance. “Prepare to receive boarders! If you surrender, you’ll be spared!”
The Captain looked from the pirate to Mrs. Green, to the other passengers huddled like birds in the shadow of the taffrail.
“They want the pay chest,” Rawlins said. “The East India Company pay chest. If we give it to them, perhaps they’ll be content with that. We have no one worth ransoming.”
“They’ll kill us,” Mr. Reid, the young salesman, said.
The Captain sighed. “No, they won’t. I know Sparrow. He wants the money. That’s what he’s after.”
“Sir, that is the Company’s money!” Mr. Shockley huffed.
“No,” the Captain said, “That’s the money that’s going to save our lives.”
“Heave to!” Shouted the Pearl’s captain, “Or regretfully I will have to blow you up.” He did not seem such a big man as his reputation would lead one to believe, only a little taller than average, with long black hair in elaborate braids.
The Captain gave the order, his head down, still arguing with Mr. Shockley.
Rawlins touched Mrs. Green’s elbow. “Ma’am, you should go bar yourself in your cabin.” His voice was gentle, trying to alarm her as little as possible.
Her eyes grew very wide. “Lieutenant, do you think so?”
“It’s safer, ma’am. In case of shot.”
Two jolly boats were lowered swiftly over the Black Pearl’s side, each bristling with buccaneers. They were a motley lot, but desperate men all.
With a frisson of terror, Mrs. Green bolted and ran for her cabin.
Rawlins made the lines ready for the boarders to come aboard, looking out over the rail.
The man who had spoken must be Sparrow, and he was unmistakable in the stern of the first boat, red head cloth over braids, beard worked into antique points, nattily attired in a new crimson brocade waistcoat over well worn breeches. He scrambled up the side as soon as the boat came along, using one hand for the lines only, his sword in the other hand. His eyes raked the deck as thoroughly as canister shot. He said something Rawlins didn’t hear, and his men spread out to cover the crew.
Rawlins put his sword at his feet.
The Caroline was secured in moments.
Sparrow swayed up to the Captain, lifting one hand like a pantomime prince, gold teeth glistening. “Bring out yer treasure.”
The Captain seemed speechless. “Um….”
“The pay chest, sir,” Rawlins said. “We will surrender the pay chest to you, sir, without resistance, if you will spare the lives of passengers and crew.”
Sparrow swung around to face him. His eyes were black beneath the kohl on his brows. “Ah yes! The East India pay chest! I expect to see that immediately! And also your rum.”
“Rum?”
“Rum. It’s a kind of fermented spirit that comes in bottles or barrels.” Sparrow touched his chest with one finger. He wore three gold rings on that hand alone. “Savvy?”
“I know what rum is,” Rawlins said, taking an inadvertent step back. “Why do you want it?’
“To drink,” Sparrow said very distinctly, as though talking to an infant or an imbecile. “We’ll take your rum aboard. And bring up your passengers. I want them lined up on deck.”
“Why?” Rawlins felt that he was asking some necessary questions.
“To rob,” Sparrow said. He looked at the Captain. “Are all your men this thick?” He made a revolving motion next to his head.
The Captain made a choked sound. Reid and Sir Humphrey, Shockley and Charleton were being herded into a rough line on the maindeck by four or five vile looking men with cutlasses, Shockley protesting all the while. Other pirates were loading the pay chest and some other chests and barrels over the side into the jolly boats.
“I say! That’s my luggage!” Sir Humphrey exclaimed as one chest went over.
“And maybe you have some nice things in it,” Sparrow said, looking him up and down. “Though I don’t think your clothes would suit. Not my style, really. Much too pastel. I can never make pastels work for me, really.” He turned to Rawlins. “Are these all the passengers?”
“Yes,” Rawlins lied, hoping Mrs. Green was barred in her cabin.
“Liar,” Sparrow grinned, looking past him.
Mrs. Green was being marched up the companionway by two swarthy fellows, her face pale in the first light of the rising sun. She stumbled into line next to Shockley.
Sparrow plucked the sapphire stick pin from Shockley’s cravat. “That’s a pretty bauble.” He glanced at Mrs. Green, and a long slow smile illuminated his face. “And so is that.”
Mrs. Green lifted her head and met his eyes.
“Oh yes,” Sparrow said. “Very pretty.” He put one hand on her chin, raising it roughly, then ran it down her long white neck and along the side of her collar, dropping at last to cup one breast. “Sweeting, what a plaything you are.”
Rawlins jumped at him.
Two pirates grabbed his arms and slammed him back against the base of the mainmast. “Not so fast,” one of them muttered.
Rawlins kicked out, and one of them gave him a neat roundhouse in the midsection that left his eyes watering and him gasping for breath.
Mrs. Green didn’t move or speak, just stood looking into the pirate’s face like a monkey mesmerized by a snake.
“Take her with us,” Sparrow said, turning away. “Plenty of time for you later, darlin’.”
“No!” Shockley protested.
“I cannot….” The Captain began.
Sparrow’s sword rang clear of its sheath. “She comes with us, savvy?” The point was against the Captain’s midsection. “Take her.”
Behind him, the pirates had finished loading the boats. One hustled Mrs. Green to the lines. It was all happening so fast that the other passengers hardly seemed to register what was happening.
Rawlins tried to take one full breath. God, what a roundhouse!
Now she was over the side, the top of her head descending past the gunwhales. Pirates followed. Sparrow was the last over the side, sword in hand.
When his head had cleared the deck, Rawlins staggered to the rail.
“Fix the chain! Clear the guns!” The Captain was yelling to someone else.
Rawlins looked across at the Black Pearl, her broadside fiercely close. Pirates were swarming up her side with chests and barrels, Mrs. Green ascending just ahead of the Captain with surprising agility.
The sun at last lifted clear of the sea, a freshening breeze pulling at them, widening the distance a little.
“I don’t care what you have to do!” The Captain yelled, “Get that carronade operative!”
The Black Pearl was setting sail, the boats being hauled up. Sparrow was amidships, looking aloft, presumably giving orders to get underway.
Someone in the crew was in the pay of the pirates. It must be. Someone had fouled the rudder chain, spiked the guns and barred the captain’s door in the night. He would find out who if it was the last thing he did. He would have the crew turn out their kit. Someone had been paid in pirate gold.
As the Black Pearl turned, Rawlins caught a glimpse of Mrs. Green’s bright dress on the quarterdeck. He did not even like to imagine what her fate must be, and he vowed to avenge her, leaning helpless on the rail as the Pearl slid away, her sails belling.
Gibbs was at the wheel, turning hard as the sails filled, the Pearl turning away from the stricken merchant. She watched the Caroline receding quickly into the distance.
Jack Sparrow bounded up the quarterdeck stairs, a wolfish grin on his face. “All well, me sweet Bess?”
“All’s well, Jack.”
“Mr. Beckett will be missin’ his pay chest. I told ye it was a good plan.” He sounded extremely pleased with himself. “And what am I to do with this pretty bauble?”
“Of course it was a good plan. It’s my plan.” She slid her arms around him, leaning up to kiss him in full view of the crew. Gibbs rolled his eyes.
It was quite a kiss, and went on as long as anyone could want, her arms around his waist, gathering him to her. Jack sounded a little breathless when he pulled away. “Ye make a fair pirate,” he allowed.
Can you tell I usually write historical in the Age of Sail? *g*
Feedback is greatly appreciated!