Page 30 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
Swallowing, she hiked up her skirt, then climbed over the railing, balancing on the opposite side. She stared down at the black churning water, her hands wrapped around the worn wood, and shook her head violently.
“I can’t do it.”
“As you wish.” He walked up behind her and shoved, slamming his hand into the flat of her back.
The brunette sailed forward with a scream and plummeted headfirst into the ocean, a loud splash cutting off her scream. A few moments later, swear words drifted up from the water.
He snorted. “She survived. Next.”
None of the other women needed a push, and the task went relatively quickly, until he reached Mrs. Parker. He should have known she would give him trouble.
“I’d like to work for you,” she said, turning around when he instructed her to climb over the railing.
Her question surprised him.
“Why do you want to serve on a pirate ship?”
“It’s unjust to allow my husband to compensate for my debt.” She folded her arms across her chest, refusing to budge.
“You won’t be treated the same as the hostages, Mrs. Parker,” he replied, glancing at the nearing flames. Bits of ash rained down on them. “As a crew member, you’ll be punished for failure to complete your tasks. I’m not a forgiving man.”
“I didn’t expect you to be,” she replied, nodding to the approaching fire. “Either you accept my help, or we both burn. I’m not climbing onto that railing.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I could throw you overboard.”
“You could.” She tilted her head and said nothing else.
“Mr. Hayward!” Cedric bellowed, drawing the attention of his first mate as he darted across the fracturing deck.
Confusion spreading across his face, Mr. Hayward changed direction, skirted a large hole caused by cannon fire, balancing with practiced dexterity as he navigated the broken boards, and met them at the railing.
“Mrs. Parker would like to join our crew.” Cedric thrust her at Mr. Hayward.
Catching her, Mr. Hayward’s hands clamped around her upper arms, and he held her away from his body, as though she would break in half. His gaze traveled over her, then returned to Cedric.
“What will you have her do, Captain?” Mr. Hayward raised both eyebrows. “She can hardly handle the physical tasks.”
“She will act as cabin boy for you and Mr. Johnson.”
That should keep Mrs. Parker out of trouble.
Mr. Hayward frowned and turned back to her. “Can you clean?”
“Certainly. However, I can’t imagine that much dust accumulates on a ship,” she replied, holding his gaze, which Cedric found intriguing, since most people stared over Mr. Hayward’s left shoulder when speaking with him, avoiding the scar.
Cedric moved behind him. “Your duties will include more than just sweeping and making beds.”
“I won’t have relations with anyone.” She glowered at him. “I am married.”
Mr. Hayward relinquished his hold on her arms, stepping aside as Cedric strode forward, his face morphing into a mask of stone.
“I would never consider that to be a woman’s duty,” Cedric growled, anger rolling through his veins. “Nor would any other man on my ship. You are worth gold, nothing more. Unless you cannot clean…”
“I can.” She jutted out her chin.
“Let’s go,” Mr. Hayward said, cutting off her next retort and pointing toward the boards connecting the two ships on the Crescent Rose’s portside.
She glanced to her right, then back at Mr. Hayward, her face paling.
