Page 2 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

“What are you thinking about?” Marco plucked a green grape off a stem and held it out to me. I took it and popped it into my mouth. It was juicy and plump and perfect and probably cut from the vine that very morning.

“Why her?” I chewed and swallowed the grape, along with my guilt over wanting Marco when I had a boyfriend. My unacknowledged truth is that I’m in love with one man and want to love another.

Marco plucked another grape off the stem, chewed over the question. “I don’t know. We just connected.” He caught my you-barely-know-her look and glanced away.

“You also connected with that runway model in Milan last year. And how about that Dallas Stars Ice Girl you cozied up with on New Year’s Eve? Or maybe the?—”

He placed his hand over mine. “Jen, none of those women did what Sasha did for me.”

Ewww. Did I really want to know? My inner voice held up a picture of some sort of Kama Sutra pose. “What?” I couldn’t help myself. I had to know.

“She made me stop thinking about you.”

Well, shit.

He removed his hand and scanned the room again. “I know you’re in love with McGregor. When I stopped trying to win your heart, I found Sasha.”

“You know.” I sipped my drink and made a sour face. “Sasha is not going to deliver herself to you on a silver platter. She has an agenda. If I were her, knowing that you and Mortas were hot on my trail, I’d be extra supercalifragilistic careful.”

He moved my drink away from me.

A ruckus broke out at the next table over a game of cards. Marco leaned in. “If you were her, what would you do?”

I slid my drink back toward me and sipped the spicy sludge. I ate a piece of pineapple, sighed at its deliciousness, and put some thought into the question. “It depends on why I’m here. If whatever I’m looking for is in some pirate’s treasure, I’d find a way on a recovery ship. Or I’d buy a ship, but time traveling with that kind of money would be cumbersome.”

“Yeah.” Marco chewed a slice of pineapple, running the possible scenarios over in his mind.

“I could thumb a ride with another ship looking for the treasure, but it’s highly unlikely any of these men would take a woman aboard, unless…” I left the wordscaptain’s whorehanging in the wind.

Marco fidgeted in his seat. His six-two frame dwarfed the chair, and his eyes took on the icy blue of an oncoming storm. “She’s three years past the wreck of the 1715 Spanish fleet. I’m not aware of any others.”

“True. But the search for treasure went on for years. Maybe she has a map.”

The argument over the card game stepped up a notch. A man wearing a fancy coat cut in and had words with the paunchier of the two men.

“That’s Jack Rackham.” Marco nodded toward the fancy man. His Indian calico coat layered over a bright blue checkered shirt, a scarlet scarf around the collar, and well-fitting breeches encasing his bottom half.

“Calico Jack.” I recalled the famous pirate. Where he went, trouble usually followed. I also knew he’d plundered a ship and stolen those clothes he wore. And he allowed women on his boat because the famous female pirates, Anne Bonny and Mary Read, sailed with him.

“I wish I knew Sasha’s game plan.” Marco huffed out the words. The argument escalated and Jack Rackham joined in the shouting.

I thought about Rackham’s female crew. “I’d try to sneak on a ship and ensure I was there when they found the booty.”

Marco leaned in, straining to hear me over the racket.

Calico Jack settled the squabble. The boisterous men quieted, and he returned to his table.

“I said I’d sneak on the ship. I was thinking about Rackham. I’m not sure if he allowed women on his ship or if the women dressed as men and he was too stupid to realize it until it was too late.”

Marco’s face brightened. “You’re a genius. Sasha has probably disguised herself as a man. We wouldn’t recognize her.” He gave the room another pass.

We’d discovered on a previous mission that Sasha had the chameleon gift. Before that, only the sneaky brigand Kishin Toches, who I lovingly like stab my eyes out—refer to as Toecheese, had the chameleon gift. He was an irritable brigand that we’d fought in the past. Like a chameleon, Toecheese blended with his surroundings. He had the ability to change his appearance as if sprinkled with face-changing fairy dust, and he was almost impossible to recognize.

Sasha had the same ability.

“I don’t know Sasha’s mannerisms like I do Toecheese. It makes it difficult to read her.” My ability to read other traveler’s emotions across a crowded room was improving. If I made physical contact with the person, even better. But I wasn’t touching anyone in this hellhole.

“Have you tried to read lately?” Marco’s hopeful expression reminded me of our trips together. And when he’d looked at me that way instead of across a crowded room of thieves.

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