Page 37 of Blow Me Down
“I am enjoying myself. So I like organizing things, so what? Everyone benefits, so I don’t see where the problem lies.”
His hand slid up the bare calf of my leg in an act so startlingly intimate that I was left momentarily speechless. “The problem is that you’re supposed to be a pirate—carefree, wild, and heedless, not organizing people’s lives and setting up eighteenth-century versions of 401(k) plans.”
“Renata and her ladies are going to be rich within a few months, just you wait and see,” I predicted. “I have an investment plan going with my daughter’s weavery and a tailor shop that should have them off their backs and onto their feet in next to no time.”
He laughed again and shook his head, his hand warm on my flesh as he stroked my calf. “You’re bringing too much real life to the game, Amy. This is your opportunity to let all those cares and worries go and indulge in your wildest fantasies.” He gave me a quick leer. “And I do meanallyour wildest fantasies.”
“You need brain shampoo,” I joked, unable to stop myself from reaching out and twining one of his chocolatey brown curls around my finger. “Why do I get the idea that you play all day and never work?”
“All work and no play makes Corbin a very dull boy. As it is, I have the best of both worlds—my work is play. But you… you’re a different animal altogether.
Where’s the dashing, wild pirate I know you have inside you, Amy? Where’s your sense of adventure? What happened to your inner child?”
“I think she left me a long time ago,” I said slowly, mulling over his lightly spoken words. Sitting there on the capstan, Corbin at my side, the wind rustling past us as the ship creaked and muttered a distant song that was starting to seep deep into my bones, I took a good long look at what he was saying and felt a sense of profound sadness when I realized what was lacking in me. “And as for Dread Pirate Amy… I don’t know that she’ll ever exist. I just don’t think I’m cut out for the wild, dashing life. I enjoyed beating that merchant in a sword fight, but I just don’t think I’m going to be a successful pirate.”
“Sure you are,” Corbin said, standing up and hauling me to my feet. “You just need a few lessons on how to let go of your… er… rigidity.”
My hackles rose a little at that. “I’m not rigid; I’m organized. There’s a difference. In fact, I’m positively flexible, I’m so nonrigid. Flexibly organized, that’s me.”
“You’re not rigid, eh?” he asked. “Prove it.”
“What?”
Corbin stood with his feet spread wide, his body swaying with the motion of the ship as we hit open water. I waited for the wave of nausea to hit me, but miraculously, the seasick band seemed to be working.
“I said prove that you’re not rigid. Look, even the way you’re standing is rigid.
Loosen up. Move with the ship; don’t fight her roll. Loosen your knees and hips a little, and go with, rather than against, the rhythm of the ship.”
I mimicked his pose, adding a hands-on-my-hips touch that I hoped would speak volumes. “See? I’msonot rigid.”
“You’ve still to prove it,” he said with a grin.
“I don’t have to prove anything.” I glared at him for a moment or two, then added, “How exactly am I supposed to prove it?”
His grin got bigger. “Kiss me.”
My jaw dropped open a little as I gawked at him. “You’re out of your mind.”
“You like me, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“You liked it when we kissed before.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you liked the other things, too. I could tell you did.”
“That has nothing to do with—”
“You said you wanted to date me.”
“That could easily change,” I growled, tired of being interrupted.
“Then kiss me. Prove to me that you’re not so rigid that you can’t let go once in a while.”
“We’re not alone. There are people around,” I hissed, glancing around us. Aft, a couple of men had their backs to us as they coiled ropes, while fore, one of Corbin’s crew was taking sounding readings. Below decks Leeward Tom, Barn, and Bas had gone to rustle up some dinner, but they could pop up at any moment.
