“I’d like to go back now,” she insisted firmly.
“Back? Back where?” he asked, looking more puzzled than offended by the request. “To the Sea Witch?”
“No. To Arizona.”
He seemed even more confused by that.
“It’s in the United States,” she informed him, wondering if she’d made a dreadful mistake in thinking that he had brains to match his brawn. Surely she would not have found herself in danger of falling in love with a dolt. Until now she’d been convinced that Captain Walker had his wits as well as his virility to recommend him. “Surely you know of Arizona.”
He shrugged, which Abby viewed as no answer at all.
“You promised me anything I wished,” she reminded him. “I would trade all of this...” She gestured toward the gold and jewels. “I would trade all of it for that one thing. I want to go back to Arizona.”
“And you shall go wherever you like,” he agreed. “In due time.”
He spoke in a placating tone that set her teeth on edge. Obviously he thought she was raving.
“First, perhaps, I think it is rest you need more than anything,” he said in that same deliberately soothing tone.
“I am not tired,” she insisted.
He regarded her with concern despite her claim. “You seem so to me. It would explain your testiness, these irrational demands you place on me. Only a few short hours ago, you complained bitterly because I intended to part from you in Charleston. Now you are not satisfied when I decide to let you stay.”
“Irrational?” Abby repeated indignantly. “You would call me irrational because I wish to return to the life I once had, rather than accept your magnanimous gesture to remain your mistress? And what of these dangerous games you play? Do you not perceive them still as designed for men only?”
Clearly he did not like the questions, nor did he anticipate her liking his answers. He ignored them. As if she were too fragile to walk, he unceremoniously scooped her up again and returned to the Sea Witch. He strode into his cabin, bolted the door behind him and placed her gently on the bed.
“Rest for a while, my lady. We will talk later. Perhaps when you have taken time to give the matter some thought, you will change your mind and decide you would like to seek even greater pirate’s treasure with us. In the meantime you will be safe here.”
Knowing that Blackhearted John was still aboard the Sea Witch, Abby figured Riley’s promise didn’t count for much. She heard the lock click, wedged a chair under the door for added protection, then curled up on his bed.
She supposed by Riley’s standards it was quite a concession that he was offering to take her along at all. And searching for treasure held a powerful allure. It was something she had once wanted more than anything, as she recalled vaguely.
But his offer was not enough without a true sense of partnership. After what she had seen, saying no had been far easier than she had anticipated. She had been given a choice and she had made it. She was quite sure she had had enough of piracy and the carnage it left behind.
Suddenly she felt stronger than she had in quite some time. Despite that, there was an odd emptiness deep inside as she contemplated leaving Riley behind. Though they had been together far too briefly, she knew that she would miss him desperately, as if she had lost a part of herself.
She considered this man who had stolen her heart so readily. It struck her as strange indeed that a man who had been so gentle with her, so protective, could have the stomach for such savagery. In his world, though, that was no doubt what it took to survive. And she knew that she would come to no harm as long as she remained with him.
Eventually, too, she believed that he would get her home again. Perhaps, if she were persuasive enough, he would even give up this dangerous life and come with her.
And then what? she chided herself. Then there would be two miserable people, rather than one. That was no answer. Since she had no other answers to their dilemma, she concentrated on his words.
“You will be safe here,” he had promised. Despite her initial skepticism, that vow echoed in her head again and again, and somehow, at last, she knew she would always be safe as long as he was near. Finally she slept.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“How is she?” Riley asked the doctor. The question was automatic. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t figure out the answer for himself.
Abby was no better now, or so it seemed, than she had been on the day the guerrillas had brought her in. Oh, her superficial cuts were healing and her bruises were fading, but she was still sound asleep, albeit more peacefully than she had seemed to be a few hours earlier. Since she had called out his name the previous night, she hadn’t murmured another word. Her eyes had remained tightly closed.
With every day that passed without a significant change in her condition, Riley was increasingly consumed by guilt and worry. He’d begun dreading the daily calls to her family, calls during which he had no encouraging news to offer, calls during which the Dennisons insisted on trying to comfort him. Their kindness only made him feel worse.
Today he was determined to have something more to report. “Come on, there has to be something you can tell me,” he persisted.
“Her injuries are healing quite nicely,” the doctor reassured him.
“The superficial ones, yes. What about the others?” Riley asked, searching for some shred of
