Page 7 of Devil of the High Seas
His lips twitched in a weary hint of a smile. “Aye, that I am. A feared, lawless pirate. It’s best if you stay away from me. Once I’m better, I’ll be gone.”
She tried to hide the flicker of excitement that gave her. “Well, that is ridiculous. I’m not the least bit afraid of pirates. I know quite a few.”
Gavin arched a brow. “Do you now, lass?”
“Yes,” Josephine replied primly. “Now, if you don’t want a doctor, someone still has to tend to your wound. Why don’t you sit on the bed?”
“No, I cannot be seen here. There is a room... back the way I came. It has a bed. I can rest there without anyone discovering I’m here.” He finally released her wrist.
“All right, but you’ll have to show me.” She grasped his hand on his uninjured side and helped him to his feet. “Put your arm around my shoulder.”
He did so, and she felt the cold seawater on his skin and the briny roughness of drying salt on his clothing. She would need to get him out of those wet clothes before they stiffened, and she didn’t want anything rubbing against his wound that might aggravate it.
They moved out of her bedchamber and through the corridor. Gavin pointed to something ahead of them.
“There... behind the tapestry, there’s a door in the paneling.” Gavin told her where to press against the wood, and a hidden door swung open. They ducked under the tapestry and walked through a tunnel until they reached a darkened room. A distant light came from somewhere on the opposite side from the way they’d entered. It looked like the entrance to another tunnel that led downward.
“Here. The bed should be... here.” Gavin sank down, dragging her with him as he collapsed onto something she couldn’t see in the dark. A cloud of dust billowed up, sending Josephine into a coughing fit. She fought to stifle the sound, lest anyone outside this room hear her.
She felt her way around the room. She thought she glimpsed a table with an oil lamp in the dim light. Stumbling over the rocky floor in her bare feet, she stubbed her toe and cursed up a storm at the flash of unexpected pain.
Gavin’s rusty chuckle came from behind her in the dark. “Where did a lady like you learn such words?”
“My brothers,” she replied. “Now whereexactlyare we?”
“In a secret chamber at the top of the cave entrance.”
“Cave? That must be why I can smell the sea. Is that where the light is coming from? I assume it leads to the beach?” One could always smell the sea when one lived on the coast, but it was more powerful here, as if she stood just inches from the water.
“Yes, there is a cave at the base of the cliffs below that leads up here.”
“Is your ship outside in the storm?” She bumped into the table and felt around for the lamp and match, along with a flint and steel striker. She lit the brimstone-coated match with the striker and set the lamp.
“No... my ship is gone.” Gavin’s tone warned her not to inquire further.
When she turned to face him with the lamp in her hand, she saw that he now sat on an old bed that was low to the floor and covered with dusty sheets.
“You can’t sleep on that!”
“Why not? It’s a bed like any other.” He seemed completely unbothered by the condition of the bed and the old sheets.
“Stay here.” She left the lamp on the table and exited the secret chamber. The house was so quiet, despite the distant rumbling of the passing storm. It felt as though everyone else in the grand estate had vanished and only she and Gavin were here. It was... intimate, but in a way she’d never felt before, and it sent a shiver of excitement through her. But she tamped down her excitement quickly and focused on the task at hand. She had a wounded man to help and couldn’t let her foolish fancies take control.
She retrieved a spare set of bed linens from the wardrobe in her bedchamber and quickly returned. She ordered him off the bed and then stripped it down before putting the clean sheets on.
“We need to get you out of these clothes,” she said, eyeing the wet cloth seriously.
“I’m flattered, lass, and under other circumstances I’d be quite happy to topple you back on the bed and pleasure you until you screamed, but I fear I’m not quite up to it just now.”
The effect of his arrogant teasing was lessened when she saw how weary he was. It was all male bravado to hide how much he was hurting. Something about that curled around her heart, smothering it with an unexpected heat and tenderness. She came toward him, forgetting she was still only in her nightrobe. She reached for his shirt, ripping it down the side.
He shrugged out of the torn shirt. “Easy, lass! You’re a strong one, aren’t you?”
Josephine shrugged. She wasn’t petite, nor was she particularly tall, but if she was one thing, she was strong. Her father had taught her years of swordplay alongside her brother, and her mother had encouraged her to take long walks, where she’d ended up running more often than not because of her boundless energy. It left her stronger than most women her age. She knelt at his feet and pulled his boots off while he steadied himself against the table. Then she reached for his trousers.
“Best if I do this...” He pushed her away and with one hand unfastened his trousers and slid them down, until he was standing there only in his smallclothes. Despite his wound, the man was gloriously built, like a wall of muscles.
Josephine swallowed hard as her mouth was suddenly dry. She cleared her throat and gestured to the bed.
