Tangled Romances Chapter 8/19
Characters: Jack, Crew of Pearl, OFCs
Rating: PG13 -R
Disclaimer: As much as I would love to own Jack and his precious Pearl, I do not. However, the rest of the cast and storyline belong to me.
Summary: Engaged to be married to the Governor's nephew, Constance Bourne feels locked into a marriage of fortune. But a stranger comes along and changes all the plans that she has made. Which path will she take?
CHAPTER 8
“Any sign of them, Admiral Johnson?” Michael asked as he walked into the Admiral’s Office.
“I’m sorry, not as of yet. But I am fairly sure that we are gaining on them. We only left a few short hours after they did.”
Michael sighed.
“Well, let’s hope we find them soon. I want her back safe and sound. I’ll kill that pirate with my bare hands if I have to.”
“We are doing everything we can, sir.”
Michael walked back out onto the deck of the Vela. The sun was hot as it hit is face, but the sea breeze calmed the burn.
Michael closed his eyes and thought about Constance. He was afraid to think what that pirate would be doing to her. How his hands mercilessly touched her body. How she begged and pleaded for him to stop. He was sure that she was no longer pure. Not by her own choice, of course.
He loved her. He would do anything for her.
He slammed his hand against the railing, cursing to himself for not taking better care of her. She was a strong woman, but if the right words were spoken, she would fall prey to the voice that coaxed her along.
Now the thought of getting her back was what kept him going. He needed her in his arms and he would stop at nothing.
*****
Constance sat in the cell for two long days. She had nothing to do but sit and think about the outcomes of her rash decisions. She often reacted on impulse and didn’t think about what she was going to do or say. She regretted angering Jack.
Gibbs snuck in a blanket for her and three daily meals. He brought her a book to read and sat and talked with her while she ate. She was grateful to have some company.
Constance felt the ship sway and watched as the water trickled in from the ceiling. She listened to the drip drop of the liquid pearls and felt herself lulling to sleep.
She closed her eyes and dreamt of Jack. His strong arms were around her waist as his lips met hers in heated desire. He had just rescued her from the hands of a mythical sea serpent. Jack took her to the cabin and made love to her, lovingly and passionately. She didn’t know she could feel this way.
*****
Jack slammed the compass on the table. He wanted it to point the thing that he wanted most. He thought about the Isle de Portella, but the needle just spun.
“What the bloody hell? You have never steered me wrong before. What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?”
He stood up and walked around the cabin. His thoughts raced.
“I know what I want, I know what I want, I know what I want,” he chanted to himself. He opened his eyes and picked up the compass.
“Isle de Portella,” he said flinging open the lid.
The needle continued to spin.
“Arggggh!” he said as the whipped the compass across the room. “Stupid, bloody piece of junk!”
He fumed and began to walk over to the desk to grab a swig of rum when he noticed something on the floor. It sparkled in the candlelight. He walked over and bent down to pick it up.
As he stood, he rolled the broach he had given Constance on one of the trips she was here in his fingers. He felt the smooth surface of the pearl under his skin.
He thought of her. He wondered what she was thinking and how she was doing while she was in the brig.
Jack shook his head.
“Serves her right. She made that decision and I can’t go back on it. It was her own fault locking herself down there like a bilge rat. She could have had an easy on deck with me. But, noooo. Little miss ‘I’m-to-good-for-you-and-I-want-to-go-back-to-pompous-prat’ decided to take the punishing route.”
Jack looked at the broach again.
“No, no, no, no, no. I will not have it. Who am I? I’ll tell you who I am. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow. I don’t fall in love. Or even like for that matter. She’s a witch. That’s what she is,” he monologued shaking his finger and he paced. “Conniving, scheming, treacherous witch. She knew how to get under me skin and she played me like a fiddle. But those hands were so soft. And lips- like none I’ve tasted before. Listen to me! I will not fall for her.”
But he knew it was too late. He had felt something for her he never felt before. He groaned.
“This pirates gone soft, he has. Bloody women.”
He grabbed the keys and lantern and marched out of the cabin.
Constance felt herself being pulled from her erotic dream by the jingle of keys and the clank of metal. She lazily opened her eyes. No, it couldn’t be?
“Stand up, love.”
Constance pushed herself to seated position. She was just dreaming about him and he was there in front of her. She felt an aching in her abdomen. She hoped he couldn’t see the glaze she felt over her eyes.
Constance rose to meet him.
“Jack, I just wanted to say that-“
“Hush,” he said as he laid a finger against her lips. “The men are going to hate me for this, probably cause another mutiny I suspect as well, but I am letting you go free. I’m going to turn the ship around and bring you back to Port Royal as you wish. I’ll make some excuse as to why I put you down here. Something to the effect of making you come to your senses or….something.”
“Jack, I-“
He shushed her again, but she batted his finger away.
“No. Let me speak,” she said sternly.
“Fiesty. I like that.”
Constance couldn’t help but bring a tiny smile to her lips.
“Go on, then. What is it that you want to say, love?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act out of turn. I was just very upset at the remark of you saying that you…you know. I don’t want to go back to Port Royal and I think that you know that.”
Jack watched her eyes as she spoke. There was something in them that he couldn’t figure out.
“Then what do you want, love?”
“To be with you as your guest.”
Jack inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
“You really didn’t do anything to me, did you, Jack?” Constance questioned.
“If I was going to seduce, lass, I would make sure that you felt every touch, every kiss, ever sensation,” he cooed. “But you had had your share of rum that evening and I wasn’t going to take advantage of you in that way. I may be a pirate, but I know when the time isn’t right.”
“Thank you, Jack,” she whispered.
“You need a bath, love. Come, let’s get you fixed up.”