Page 25 of A Star is Scorned
Flynn rolled off Olivia and leapt up. He put his feet on the metal rungs along the bottom of the mast and started climbing.He needed to fix the sail. He was scrambling for purchase when he felt a sharp tug between his shoulder blades.
Olivia called out, “Flynn! The pulley.”
He craned his neck and noticed that the back of his shirt had wedged itself into one of the gears they used to hoist and maneuver the sail. He swore loudly and strained upward, trying to free himself in vain. His eyes darted between Olivia and the ragged sail.
He had to fix this. To hell with it.
He clung to the mast with his legs and one arm, while he used the other to pull the shirt over his head. Now shirtless, he finally reached the top of the mast and grabbed for the sail that had torn from the top side of the rigging. A gust of wind blew it from his grasp and the boom swung yet again, the force of its motion nearly knocking him from the mast.
He fought to right himself and looked down to see Olivia clambering over the midsection of the boat, crawling over the raised roof and skylight that covered the central cabin. What was the girl doing? She was going to get herself killed. And good luck to Harry Evets if he had to explain that to the press and the goddamn Legion of Decency.
But Olivia maneuvered herself to the front end of the boom. She grabbed hold of it with both her hands and, with what looked like an immense strain, held it in place.
“I’ll keep her steady,” she called. “Fix the sail.”
He’d be damned. Olivia Blount, newly minted sailor, was saving his arse. And the mainsail of theSea Monkeyat that. He admired the way the sunlight caught her dark hair, how her violet eyes flashed with the intensity of her efforts. She was a sight to behold, a pirate queen if there ever was one.
“Stop ogling me and go!” she cried through gritted teeth.
Right, yes—their romance might be fake, but their current situation was all too real.
Shaken from his temporary brush with insanity, Flynn pushed himself forward to the sail and managed to grip the black fabric in his hands. It had torn loose from the rungs that attached it to the metal arc of the frame. He worked swiftly to tie it back together, using a halyard hitch to hold it taut. The entire thing would have to be refitted, but for now, this would have to do.
He hung from the top of the sail, finishing the last knot with one hand as he held himself to the frame with both legs and the other arm.Nowwho was the bloody sea monkey? But the sail swung wildly again, throwing Olivia back against the roof of the cabin and leaving him dangling from one arm.
He knew the moment Olivia saw him because she screamed. That caught the attention of Rex, who called out, “We need to tack the boat to the leeward side.”
Flynn cursed, fumbling uselessly at the sail with his legs, trying to find some foothold. But he was hanging from the middle of the sail with a few feet of fabric between him and the mast. Olivia had no clue what tack or leeward side meant—he’d bet theSea Monkeyon it.
“Olivia!” he called out. She looked up at him. “Grab the helm and turn the back of the ship toward the wind!”
She nodded and ran for the wheel, which was spinning wildly without him there to captain it. Olivia twisted the helm sharply to her left and the sail swung to the right, leaving Flynn now hanging over open water.
“Not that way!” he yelped. She swore and turned it back to the right, bringing him back over the boat. “Now, hold it steady.”
She did as she was told, grimacing as the force of the water and the wind fought against her. The bow of the boat turned intothe wind, and theSea Monkeyrighted itself, resuming a smooth sail now that its keel was once again aligned with the current.
Flynn breathed a sigh of relief and looked down. He was just above the roof of the cabin; if he timed it right, he would only fall a couple feet. It wouldn’t be a soft landing, but it was better than staying stuck up here. He swung himself back and forth.
“What are you doing?” Olivia shrieked. The note of concern in her voice was adorable. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had cared much whether he lived or died. In fact, they seemed to usually advocate for the latter after about twenty-four hours.
He didn’t answer but pulled his knees up and let go of the mast with both hands. His stomach swooped as he plummeted through the air, but he managed to land mostly on his feet, bracing himself with his hands to help him find his center of gravity. He then slid off the side of the cabin and back down to the deck.
Olivia was gaping at him, still holding the helm tight as Rex continued to man the jib at the bow. “What on earth were you thinking?”
“That my arms were getting tired holding onto that sail.”
“You, you, you could’ve broken something. Or been seriously injured.”
He shrugged. “But I wasn’t.” In fact, now that he’d escaped with nothing more bruised than his reputation as a sailor, he’d say that had been rather fun. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his hat, and he noticed it discarded near the helm at Olivia’s feet. “Shall we share the wheel?”
He scooped up the hat and placed it on her head, pressing against her and slipping his arms around her to help her hold the helm in place. With his shirt still hanging from the pulley above,he could feel the sinuous shape of her, even beneath the bulk of the life preserver.
But before he knew it, she was gently elbowing him. “I’ve got it.”
He chuckled and took a step back. “One successful rescue of theSea Monkeyand its captain, and now you’re an expert?”
She twisted her head around to stick her tongue out at him. Christ, she was adorable with the brim of his hat sitting low on her brow. With every passing moment, he was less annoyed that Harry had chosen her for this charade. “No, but…I think we can still win this race.”
