Page 65 of The Pirate Lord
At least Gideon had been right about the forest not catching fire, she thought. Though some of the dried palm fronds had burned, the fire hadn’t been strong enough to devour the green wood and damp, rich vegetation. The wind had been in their favor as well, for it had swept the fire toward the stream, which had acted to protect the forest beyond it, although some of the trees on this side of the stream had caught fire.
She moved further out on deck to get a better look, and that’s when she saw Gideon. He stood with his back to her, his hands clenching the railing as he stared at the beach a few hundred yards away. He’d obviously not bothered to put on more clothing after the ocean baths they’d all taken earlier in an attempt to clean off some of the soot and ashes. He still wore only the trousers and belt he’d worn then. No shirt, no vest, no boots.
He’d never looked wilder. Or more alone. A sudden pang tore at her heart. This was his island, his paradise, his dream. A moment’s carelessness had reduced it to ashes, and he had no one to turn to, no one to lean on. His men had been asleep for hours, as had the women. He’d never lean on any of them anyway.
Though she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her concern, she couldn’t bear to abandon him, too. She came up behind him, laying her hand on his bare back. “Gideon?”
His muscles went rigid beneath her hand. “Go away, Sara.”
Startled by the fierceness in his voice, she considered doing as he’d asked. But he didn’t need to be alone right now. Sliding her hand in the crook of his bent elbow, she stepped up next to him. “I can’t. I just . . . feel like I ought to do something.”
“There’s nothing for you to do. Go back to bed, and leave me alone.”
Looking up at his profile, she saw that it too was stiff and cold, aloof. But there was nothing aloof about his eyes. Naked pain shone there, a pain as deep as the vastness of the ocean that rocked the ship to and fro. She couldn’t bear to leave him when he was hurting.
“Atlantis means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?” she whispered.
“Sara—” he began in a warning tone.
“But it doesn’t have to be the end, you know.”
A choked cry escaped him as he whirled to face her, wrenching his arm from her hand. “Itisthe end! Confound it, woman, don’t you have eyes? It’s gone, all of it!” One sweeping arc of his hand took in the entire shore beyond them. “There’s not so much as a plank left!”
“But we can rebuild, can’t we? Make new, better homes?”
“Rebuild?” He scoffed at her, planting his hands on his low-slung hips. “Do you know how long it took us to build those crude dwellings, to saw down the trees and fashion planks and find enough thatch for the roofs? Months!”
“This time it wouldn’t take so long. You’d have help. We could help you.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Ah, yes,youwould help us. You, who hate us. Right before the fire started, you threatened to abdicate all responsibility for the colony if you didn’t get your way. As it turns out, your threats didn’t matter. We were brought down anyway. You’re probably all chuckling in your beds to see it.”
The words hit her with the force of a slap. He certainly had good reason to think them, but still . . . “That’s not true. You know we did what we could to help put out the fire.”
“Perhaps.” When she cast him an outraged look, he grudgingly amended, “All right, yes. You and the women didhelp. But that doesn’t mean you’d help us rebuild. Why should you? You’ve nothing to gain from it but criminals for husbands.”
She winced at his sarcastic echo of her earlier words. She wasn’t ashamed of what she’d said. But she didn’t like hearing it repeated under these circumstances, when he and the men had just lost everything.
“Things have changed. I wouldn’t want . . .wewouldn’t want to see you without homes. I’m sure we could put our differences aside long enough to help you set the island to rights.”
He leaned back against the railing, his expression a mix of anger and frustration. “Really? How very generous of you.”
Her temper flared, but she caught herself before she could retort. That was what he wanted, to drive her away so he could sink into desperation. But that was not what he needed.
“I want to help, Gideon. I want to help you restore Atlantis.” Summoning up her courage, she added, “That is, if you’re willing to fight for it instead of letting it die.”
His eyes blazed. “You are the most sanctimonious, annoying female I’ve ever met!” Shoving away from the railing, he caught her shoulders, gripping them almost painfully. “Don’t youevergive up?”
“No.” Despite the fury she’d purposely roused in him, she kept her gaze steady. “It’s that reformer blood in me, I’m afraid. I have to keep going until I reform everything.” She added, almost defiantly, “And everybody.”
He cast her a cold look. “You’d best not try it with me. I don’t take well to reforming.”
Suddenly his anger seemed to shift, transforming into something else, something dark and frightening and most certainly wicked. He flexed his hands on her shoulders, then edged them further in until his hands clasped her neck, his thumbs resting on the veins where her pulse beat madly. Helowered his voice to a rumble as he added, “Perhaps it’s time I made you realize that.”
He cradled the back of her head with one hand, and panic rose in her throat as she lifted her hands to press against his chest. “What are you doing?”
“You keep trying to reform me.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Well, there’s only one way to fight that. By corrupting you.”
There was no mistaking his meaning. He brought his other hand down to clasp her waist and tug her closer. Alarm, and a tiny thrill of anticipation, sprang full-blown in her chest. “Wh-What makes you think I can be corrupted?”
