Romancing the Pirate by Michelle Beattie Read Free Book Online Page A

it wasn’t one his father had carved out for him, but rather one he’d chosen himself. Though certain this girl couldn’t jeopardize that, he was nettled by her presence nonetheless.
    “If I took you back to Port Royal, what would you do?”
    Her eyes suddenly filled with more energy than he thought she had left.
    “I’d try another way to get to St. Kitts.”
    “To find someone you don’t remember? Are you that stupid?”
    “Why are you asking?” she queried. “Haven’t you already made up your mind about me?”
    Sick or not, Blake glared at her. She’d stowed away on his ship; she should have been begging for his mercy, for his understanding. It’s what he’d expected her to do. The fact that she hadn’t the energy to hold herself up and yet could challenge him so easily showed gumption. And despite his annoyance, he’d always respected that trait in a person. He set his jaw.
    “You’d likely die in the process. If dehydration didn’t do you in, a pirate attack certainly would.”
    Her eyes closed. “Your concern is overwhelming.”
    He came to her then and kneeled down. He waited until her eyes opened. “I’ll take you to my cabin, get some food into you. But make no mistake, it’s not out of concern. I just don’t want a dead body smelling up my ship.”
    “You mean more than it already does?”
    “You don’t like it, you’re welcome to leave. I have no objection if you aren’t willing to wait until we make the next port to do so.”
    “I assume you’re not married.” Despite her pallor and sunken cheeks, her mouth twisted into a sneer.
    “No, I’m not.”
    “Shocking,” she answered.
    Because a part of him was impressed with her sassiness, he bristled. He shouldn’t be impressed; he should be angry at her for being there and at himself for seeing anything in Alicia Davidson worth admiring.
    “Are you always this ungrateful for help?” he demanded.
    “Are you always this ungracious?”
    Not usually, but seeing her over that grave, crying over a man who had no business being cried over, infuriated him. But then, she’d seen a side to Jacob Davidson that Blake hadn’t been privy to.
    “Cabin’s this way,” he muttered.
    She struggled to her feet and followed behind him, the bucket still in her grasp. This time he didn’t care where he walked. He took the steps two at a time and had climbed to the next deck before he heard her retching again.
    “Good God.” Since he was close to the galley, he strode inside and asked his cook to make up some tea and to have it sent with some dry bread to his cabin. Then he went back to fetch Alicia.
    “Are you coming?”
    She’d sat on the steps, and now that she’d moved farther up the ship, she’d caught the attention of some of his crew. They were watching over the railing, wondering how and when a woman had come aboard. Blake wondered the same thing.
    Alicia, however, didn’t seem concerned with the men gathered nearby. In fact, with her head tilted to rest against the wall, and her hands hanging loosely on her knees, she appeared to be almost—
    “Bloody hell,” he cursed, taking the steps down as fast as he’d taken them up. Sure enough, there she was, the bucket on her lap, sound asleep.
    “We can put her in me hammock,” one of his crew volunteered.
    “Or mine,” another said.
    This was followed by a rowdy argument of just who should have Alicia. And that was the second time Blake knew he had trouble on his hands. The first had been seeing her and knowing the reaction she caused in him. He hadn’t had time to think of what his crew would do. And now—thanks again to her, he thought gratingly—he knew just what her presence would mean. Feeling a headache brewing behind his right eye, Blake silenced his crew with nothing more than a glare.
    “She’ll be in my cabin, for the moment, and I don’t want to hear another word about her. Nate,” he called, when he spotted his other first mate coming through the crowd,