Easing to her feet, Abigail turned slowly to face her rescuer. At the sight of his green eyes flashing sparks of gold, she drew in a ragged breath and wondered for a heartbeat if she hadn’t jumped from the frying pan into the fire. There was no doubt in her mind that this man, for all of his kindness in rescuing her, was far more dangerous than the first. An oddly expectant tremor of excitement ricocheted through her as she studied him.
Powerfully built, with a mane of thick, blond hair, a shadow of a beard and the stance of a warrior, he was dressed all in somber black. Yet there was a radiance about him that beckoned to her in the most provocative way, a way that seemed ever so faintly familiar, as if they had met before in some other time, some other place. His fierce expression gentled as she studied him.
“Captain Riley Walker at your command,” he said with a gallant bow. “Welcome aboard the Sea Witch. I think perhaps it would be wise if we went below to my cabin, where you will be safe from further attentions of my crew.”
“Riley,” she repeated with a vague sense of alarm, even as she followed him. “Riley.”
Surely it could not be coincidence. She had known a Riley once, perhaps twice. Or were they all one and the same? This really was getting to be quite confusing.
“You are troubled by my name, Lady Abigail?” he asked as he offered her something to drink.
Abby accepted the cup as she glanced around. His cabin was far tidier than Blackhearted John’s had been. It actually looked as if it had been cleaned in recent days.
“I knew someone once...” she began.
His smile made the words die on her tongue. That smile, too, seemed reminiscent of another, equally devastating smile. She felt suddenly more at ease, reassured...and quite enchanted.
“Could you explain how I came to be aboard the Sea Witch?” she asked.
“I am afraid that is something I have no way of knowing,” he admitted. “When we claimed the ship, you were on board.”
So that much of what Blackhearted John had said was true. “Where was the ship destined?” Abby asked.
“The Carolinas, I believe.” He regarded her worriedly. “Do you not recall this?”
She sighed. “I seem to recall very little.”
“Perhaps in the struggle with Higgins, you were injured,” he suggested. “A bump on the head, possibly.”
“I don’t believe so. Even before, none of this seemed familiar to me. You say the Sea Witch was destined for the Carolinas. Exactly where?”
“A place called Charleston. Does that sound familiar?”
Abby shook her head. She knew Charleston, of course, but had no idea why she might have been headed there aboard a ship. “Did we set sail from England?”
“Yes and with a king’s ransom in goods,” he said. “Capturing the Sea Witch was truly a good day’s work for us.”
“There were other ladies aboard?”
“None.”
“Was I banished then? Why would I have been sent so far from home alone? Did the captain not explain?”
The pirate, who was lounging against the wall as they talked, looked faintly embarrassed. “I’m afraid he was dispatched before we could converse about such things.”
“Shoot first, ask later,” Abby murmured. Apparently there was some centuries-old tradition behind the technique she had thought to be disturbingly modern.
“Beg pardon, my lady?”
“Nothing.” She looked into his eyes, steeling herself against the provocative effect. “Tell me, Captain Walker, what is to become of me?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“How adventurous you prove to be.”
Against her better judgment, Abby found the remark intriguing. “Meaning?”
“The sea is a taxing mistress, my lady. I long for one who is warmer, more comforting,” he said.
As he spoke, he took a lazy, provocative survey that heated her blood like nothing she had ever felt before.
“If you wish, you could remain with me,” he offered. “There are gold and riches to be shared with the woman equal to my demands.”
“In other words, you seek to buy yourself a compliant mistress for a few pieces of gold,” she said, unable to hide her disdain even as she fought against temptation. Captain Riley Walker intrigued her. Her heart pounded a bit harder in his presence. Her senses, in fact, had come to life in the salty air. She could imagine worse fates than belonging to this strong, virile specimen. Being taken against her will by someone such as Blackhearted John was one.
“Is sharing my life and my bed such a terrible thing to contemplate?” He regarded her with some amusement. “Or is it pretty words you want? This seems an odd place to expect a courting ritual, my lady, especially under these circumstances. You are mine to claim, if I so choose.”
Abby regarded him indignantly. Drawing herself up, she faced him squarely. “The choice is mine. It would be best if you did not forget that, Captain Walker.”
He grinned, clearly unintimidated. “An illusion I will permit, because it suits me. I have been relishing a spirited battle of wits for some time. It seems one has been handed me. I intend to make the most of it.”
His expression sobered. “A warning, though, Lady Abigail, and quite a serious one. You will remain in my cabin unless you are on deck with me at your side. As you have seen, Higgins and the others will take their pleasure without thought of your sensibilities. Should any of them do that I would have to kill them, and I do not wish to lose any of my crew to such activities. Is that clear?”
Abby shuddered, stricken by his words and by their cold delivery. On balance, it seemed he was more distressed by the thought of losing those blackguards than by the thought of any harm coming to her. Still, she could see the sense of the warning, and she was not foolish enough to take it lightly.
“Understood.” Because she
