Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
His lips tilted into a gentle arc at one side, eyes gleaming. “You think I didn’t know that you organized that jump from your ship?”
My mouth opened and closed like a dying fish.
“Oh, Bennett.” His chuckle shivered through me. “I do love to stun you speechless.”
“How?”
“The pirate who pushed you…” He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it.
“Reynolds.” I stepped toward him and gripped his warm fingers. “Priest Farrell’s brother.”
“Yes, well, the poor fellow wore the most dreadful look as he shoved you over. I watched him through the glass, and I daresay there were tears in his eyes.”
“Overprotective idiot,” I muttered. “Exceptional quartermaster.”
“Not just him. When you fell, your entire crew held a collective, horrified breath. They mourned you so deeply I felt it across the water. It was really quite something.”
“Damn those blasted fools. They were supposed to cheer and behave as if the mutiny was real.”
“They quickly pulled themselves together and put on a show of clapping and whistling. My lieutenants believed the ruse.”
“I can’t believe you knew this whole time.” I stepped over a fallen tree, keeping my senses locked on the distant waves. “Why did you let them go?”
“I only wanted you. From the moment you stood upon that gunwale, half-dressed and shouting profanities at His Majesty’s Ship, I couldn’t look away. I was completely taken with you. To hell with everything else.”
“Good lord, I had no idea.” I pushed a twig out of my way, studying him as we walked. “What else did you figure out about me?”
“What else are you keeping from me, you deceitful woman?”
Too much.
“I had some escape plans.” I peered up at him, dreading the conversation about Priest.
“Yes, your siren tactics were strikingly successful. Tore my heart out in pieces when you plundered it. Well done.”
“A much better scheme than the fake pregnancy.”
He twined his fingers around mine and held my gaze. No need to belabor the topic of my infertility. We’d already said all there was to say about that.
My first plan of escape was still out there somewhere, tirelessly hunting me.
As we made our way through the thick brushwood, my stomach tumbled. The sounds of the tide breaking on the western shore grew louder, closer.
I needed to tell him about Priest. I couldn’t put it off any longer. “Ashley…”
“Is that…?” He yanked my hand, dragging me behind him as he hurried through the woods. “Look!”
Following his gaze upward, I gasped at the sight of innumerable oranges. We’d stepped into a grove of citrus trees. Christ, this would feed a village. Unless they shared Priest’s strange affliction to the fruit.
Ashley plucked a ripe one from a low branch and quickly peeled it. After test sniffing a huge juicy wedge, he offered it to my lips, which I ate with a great appetite.
The overwhelming sweetness burst across my tongue, making me moan and nod for more. Within minutes, we greedily devoured four oranges between us.
He gathered as many as he could carry, gripped my hand, and resumed walking. The sustenance in his belly should have raised his spirits, but he seemed deeply reflective, sullen even.
“Ashley?”
“I need to talk to you about Priest Farrell.”
“What?” The hairs on my nape erected.
His feet slowed, his gaze fixed in the direction of the sea. “He’s not who you think he is.”
“What do you mean?” I glanced at the oranges he held, my throat tightening with suspicion. “Why are you mentioning him now?”
His head turned slightly, his face averted and suddenly pale. Then he went chillingly still. Distracted.
My nerves turned inside out.
“Do you see that?” Eyes wide, he stared off in the distance at something I couldn’t see.
“No, what are—?”
He clapped a hand over my mouth, and the oranges tumbled to the ground. With a hard look in my direction, he held a finger against his lips. My bones fused at the joints with fear.
Moving slowly, soundlessly, he crept away, angling his neck to see through the trees. Whatever alarmed him contracted his muscles, straining every sinew and tendon in his bare back.
Pulse racing, I leaned forward and squinted through the foliage. And gasped.
Was that a ship? The hazy silhouette of rigging and masts looked so far away, but not inconceivable if the shore lay beyond those trees.
The ground cover stirred behind me. The crunch of leaves, the snap of a twig… Footsteps.
Ashley spun toward me as I twisted to look back.
A fist cracked across my face, jarring my vision and hurling me to my knees. I thought I might pass out until Ashley’s enraged roar shattered my stunned fog.
I snapped my head up as two shaggy white men attacked him. They held his arms and neck, attempting to restrain his body. But he broke free and rushed forward, his expression seething with unleashed violence.
Halfway to me, the men leaped onto his back. He dragged them several more steps, his teeth bared and eyes locked on mine.