The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,26

wrist and squeezed, digging his fingers deep between the bones. A searing pain raced up her arm and shot down into her hand. Her fingers went numb and she lost her grip with a suddenness that sent them both tumbling along the sill.

He came up on top of her, his hips grinding hers. His breath hot on her chest, she slapped and gouged, going for his eyes, nose…any point of weakness. He caught one arm in mid-air and wrenched it around under her, while nearly catching the other. As they rolled, one way and then the other, she screamed and he clapped a hand over her mouth. She bit down until she heard the satisfying crunch of flesh. Grunting in pain, he jerked back and tried to shake her off, but she hung on like a terrier on a rat. Finally, he slapped her across the face. The blow sent her reeling backward. She came hard up against a gun with a force that knocked the wind from her.

Blackthorne came at her with a thunderous look. The black eyes gleamed with a brilliance that made him capable of any act of mayhem or madness. She sagged back, the gun’s cold brass at her back another scream bubbling in her throat, but he stopped just beyond arm’s reach.

“Scream again and you’ll do it hanging from me bowsprit,” he said in a low, gasping growl.

He twisted his arm around to examine the side of his hand, a curve of red droplets bright in the candlelight. He glared in disgust at her and plunged it into his mouth. He then snatched up the bottle and trickled rum over it, swearing as he shook off the pain.

Blackthorne came at her with a swiftness that he was on her before she could react. He grabbed her up and half-carried, half-drug her across the room to the curtain and, with a low, animal sound, shoved her through it.

“And come out at your peril!” he snarled.

Cate strained to curb her own hard breathing in order to hear to what was happening on the other side of the curtain: stomping about, and a great deal of grumbles and curses, much unkindly toward women in general and her, specifically. She heard a heaving grunt and the quilt slid under the curtain with enough force for it to land at her feet.

She stood staring into the dark room. There was nothing but a curtain, no way of barricading or locking it. She inched her way forward with a groping hand extended. She stubbed her toe on the bunk and heard a smug snicker in the salon. He was still out there, listening, waiting. Sleeping on the bed seemed ill-advised. When he came in—and surely he would—he would expect her there. Determined not to give him the satisfaction of another sound, she clamped her mouth tight and felt around to the farthest corner. At the head of the bed, she came upon a book tucked in the corner. Its hefty weight promised to make a fair weapon—the only weapon thus far—and she tucked it under her arm. Once reaching the corner, she felt for the quilt and curled up with it on the floor.

Exhaustion was an anchor dragging her down. The events of the day flashed through her head like a riffled deck of cards. The speed with which they passed had a hypnotic effect and she felt her joints loosen. Muscles tensed for too long trembled and twitched as they let go. Deeper and deeper she sank.

Cate woke with a start. With no idea what had awakened her, she tried to quiet her pounding heart in order to hear, straining to see through the darkness. She shied at a spectral light glowing at the ceiling and felt quite foolish at seeing it was only the moon through a deck prism. A greenish pool on the floor, the thin ray was the only light in the otherwise stygian void. The curtain moved and she jumped then gasped with relief at realizing it swayed with the motion of the ship.

There was a noise, the same or different as what had wakened her she couldn’t tell. She held her breath, as if listening might help her to see. She couldn’t shake the sense of eyes being on her. Severe disorientation seized her at realizing that she was no longer on the floor. She was somewhere else, but with no recollection of how she had come to be there. Shifting her weight ever so