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The noise from topside bas becoming louder and Danese was instantly brought back to the peril she was in. John didn’t bother to knock as he thrust the door open. “Grab something! They’re sitting grappling hooks!” The shifting and creaking of timbers was almost deafening. The ship shuddered to a halt and Danese’s knuckles whitened around the edge of the bunk.

Danese’s legs began to tremble. She heard a scuffling in the passage way and she had to grit her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her hands had turned clammy and her stomach churned. What did the pirates want? Were they killing everyone on board one by one, slicing throats until the decks ran red with blood? Torturing them for information? Thanks to John she didn’t have to face the savages in her silk skirts. Heaven knows what would have happened then!

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Though she was prepared, Danese jumped backward as the door burst open. In her horror, she stopped breathing, and within seconds, she felt faint. She gulped air through cheeks stiffened with fear.

“Everybody on deck. Captain wants to see you.” The man’s well spoken voice clamed Danese somewhat as she and John were ushered up the stairs onto the deck.

She felt his presence before she saw him. Danese glanced over the faces lining the deck, searching for whatever it was that seemed to unnerve her. Squeezing behind John’s comforting body, she felt shivers dance along her spine. What was she looking for? Then she saw him, standing less than thirty feet away. She forgot to breathe. She drank in the sight of him, enjoying the resulting warmth spreading through her body.

He was simply the most handsome man she had ever seen. His eyes were steely green with eyelashes long enough to be envied by the feminine gender. His nose was straight with high molded cheekbones and a finely chiseled square cut to his jawline. Broad shouldered, his hard muscles were accentuated by his white shirt which was molded over his chest and open almost to the waist. His corded chest was deeply tanned from hours spent in the sun. The shirt reached slim hips and black breeches, pushed into black leather boots at knee level.

The wind whipped his curly brown hair around his face as he stood proudly surveying his domain. Danese watched awestruck as he removed his shirt and boots and started to the main rigging, scaling hand over hand until he reached the crow’s nest. Since the voyage began, Danese had seen many men up in the rigging, but never one as magnificent as he. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the pirate captain weave back and forth across the ropes of the three masts. His broad, tanned back and shoulders with the mass of sinewy muscles rippled in the glare of the sun.

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In moments he was back on deck and Danese gradually remembered to breath. He replaced his shirt, attached his long shiny cutlass to his belt and jammed a pistol into the waistband of his breeches.

“Captain, if you would be so kind.” He spoke in low tones, but his voice carried well. Danese allowed the richness of it to wash over her, bringing tingles of feelings to her nerve endings. Captain McDonald, captain to their merchant ship, stepped forward, a look of angry resignation on his face.

“Regardless, sir, I seek only one thing and when I find it, you can be sure that I will take it.” No one on board doubted it. This man made a formidable opponent, and he took Danese’s breath away.

He walked casually amongst the crew of the merchant ship, sizing up every man he passed. Danese froze as he drew near, realizing too late their mistake. John had taken a stance behind the crew and not with the other passengers. He pushed at John’s shoulder to get a better look at her, but John refused to budge. The captain simply scowled again and two of his crew literally lifted John out of the way.

He stared at Danese a long time, long enough for the trembling in her legs to begin again. She kept her eyes lowered, but she could feel the heat of his green eyes as they started at the top of her head and lazily made their way downward inch by inch. He turned abruptly, leaving Danese flushed with shame and something else she couldn’t name.

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Danese’s eyes widened. Striped socks! Oh, my God! They were there to escort her before she could find John for protection. She struggled briefly, lashing out with hands and feet until they easily subdued her. She thought she imagined John telling her it would be all right. But the words dimmed and she felt faint.

Fighting unconsciousness, Danese renewed her struggles. She was shaking all over, her eyes widened to black. It was then she was gathered into strong arms and held tight until her spiraling emotions left her drained as they ebbed away.

Danese tried to smile at the man’s humor. One side of her mouth curved upward in the attempt.

“Come along and I’ll explain your duties. Captain Smith runs a tight ship. It’d be best if you settle in right away. Oh, and by the way, my name’s Oliver.” Danese gathered her meager courage, straightened her shoulders and followed the giant into the bowels of the ship.

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Captain Michael Smith leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Another English ship and still no sign of John Peters, his best friend. Pressed into service two years ago off the docks of London, Michael hadn’t heard another thing from him. They had been supposed to meet at one of the many taverns they frequented, but John had never shown up. Endless questions later, Michael had not found the answer to John’s disappearance. Now, two years later, he was no closer than he was when he had started.

Within a few minutes Danese had seen everything there was to see in the galley. After all, how much could one see in a room six by eight feet? She waited patiently for the cook to fix the captain’s tray, her mind in disarray. How long could she stay disguised before someone saw through it? It was one thing to hide amongst a crew of men, it was another to constantly be the center of attention.

Small rivulets of perspiration began to run between her breasts, and her clothes began to cling. Her hair became a matted mess, concealed as it was inside the woolen cap. Still Danese put off the inevitable.

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Danese gritted her teeth and picked up the loaded tray, her arms shaking with the effort. “Lets get this over with,” she mumbled under her breath. Oliver led her over the deck to the other cabins located in the stern. Danese tried to keep her eyes down, but she could feel the crew watching every movement as she stumbled along in Oliver’s wake.

The blasted man didn’t even look up as she entered the cabin! Danese had prepared herself for the worst and she ended up with no reception at all. The captain apparently expected her to adapt readily to her “new employment” and showed no more concern than he would to a trusted friend. The man’s eyes never left the page he was reading when he demanded, “What’s your name, lad?”

Danese’s mind went completely blank. How stupid of her not to anticipate the question! Her mind searched frantically for a name. “Harry, sir, name’s Harry.” Her voice cracked with the unnatural deepness she tried to effect.

Upon hearing the voice, Michael raised his beautiful green eyes and looked at her face fully since the first time he had seen her on the deck of the other ship. Now, he again saw the delicate bone structure, the soft smooth skin, the expressive blue eyes, and the full mouth. He quelled the urge to smile. How on earth did this lovely creature intend to carry out this masquerade? Did she imagine he was blind? Did he give some hint of stupidity? Any man in his right mind would recognize that mouth as belonging to a woman who needed to be kissed, kissed, and kissed again.

“Ah, Harry.” He seemed to contemplate the name for a matter of moments before he spoke. “As a matter of fact, Harry, I wanted to talk to you about your duties.” Michael’s eyes took on a piercing quality and Danese tried not to squirm. “One thing I am accustomed to is a daily bath.”

Danese’s head jerked upward. “ A bath, s....sir? In a tub?”

“Aye, Harry, in a tub.” Michael couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “Over here behind this panel is where it is kept.” He rose to show her what he was talking about. “Of, course, the water must be heated in the gallery. You’ll find the buckets there. Cook will show you. I take fresh or rainwater baths whenever the water is available; otherwise, I’ll use saltwater.”

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Danese stood staring at the large copper tub Michael had revealed behind the panel near the bed. She said the first idiotic thing that came to her mind. “How clever! A real tub!” Her face took on a pained expression when she felt her heated face. “Now?”

“Now.” Her shoulders fell. Michael wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her and take away her worry. But, he decided, he was having too much fun.

“Oh, and Harry.” Danese’s eyes caught his and quickly skidded away. “You may address me by my given name. It’s Michael.”

She immediately looked uncomfortable but tired it out on her tongue. “Michael.” He almost groaned with his reaction to the sweetness of her voice. He watched her shapely backside as she walked out of the room and groaned again. The game he played was a dangerous one and if he didn’t watch out he just might get caught.

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