Free Prisoner of Desire by Mary Wine

its work, granting me a swift death?"
    "Light ahead, Captain."
    There was both joy and fear in the man's voice. Lorena turned to look at him. The moon cast an eerie glow on his face, but she could not miss the longing in his expression. However much she detested her current circumstances, she could not fail to enjoy watching the men manning the oars. They looked radiant, lifting their faces toward the twinkling beacon in the distance like it was a promise of eternal youth.
    Compared to their life at the fort, she supposed it was. Her heart softened, their plight had been a grim one indeed. But their success meant her ruin. Once she was needed no further, a slice across her throat might be the last thing she felt in this life. Warm blood was already oozing down her neck. She could smell its metallic scent.
    "Careful now, wait for the signal. If we row to a man-of-war, our efforts will have been for naught and we'll face the gallows for sure. Strike the match."
    One man reached into his hair and pulled a small bundle from it. He'd hidden it at the base of his ponytail. He picked at it for a moment before pulling a thin piece of fabric loose. Holding it carefully he drew it quickly along the side of the boat. It flared to light so brightly she closed her eyes against the stinging pain. The scent of burning wood filled her nostrils. Blinking against the light, Lorena opened her eyes to find the man holding the match high. He kept it there until the orange flame touched his skin and he flicked it overboard. The flame died instantly on the
    surface of the water.
    The other men held their oars in place. The current rocked the little boat while time froze once again. Her heart seemed to beat louder, filling her ears. Each breath took effort to draw and push down into her lungs. The light in the distance twinkled, beckoning them forward out of the
    growing chill. But the men in the boat held steady.
    "Another."
    The man holding her was obeyed. Another match flared to life, a tiny orange flame giving more light than she'd ever thought possible. Compared to the vast darkness they floated on, it was abundant. Just like the voice of the man holding her. It was rich and filled with confidence. She was tempted to relaxed against him. In fact, struggling to remain rigid was taking more and more strength.
    Another light joined the one in the distance and a third. Relief coated the faces of the men holding the oars and they smiled. A soft sob left her lips. Witnessing their joy was both heart-warming and horrifying. Each breath suddenly seemed precious as she wondered just when she'd feel the kiss of that cold steel again.
    "Take us home, lads. Take us home."
    They needed no encouragement. The men dug into the water with renewed strength. The boat
    glided toward the lights, gaining speed with each stroke. A ship emerged from the night. Its hull was dark and foreboding. She'd never seen such a thing; even the canvas sails were oddly dark.
    Men moved along her rail, peering over at them. A rope ladder came rolling down the hull. It danced wildly for several moments before restless into the same gentle roll of the ship.
    The first man reached for the rope ladder almost frantically. He was already climbing by the time they collided with the ship's hull. Hands reached for him at the top, gripping and pulling him over the rail.
    The arms around her suddenly opened. Her thoughts were a bubbling mess of apprehension and
    determination to see the sun rise. The men were absorbed with getting to the ladder. Kicking at her tussled skirts and petticoats, she struggled to place her feet on the bottom of the boat.
    A hard arm hooked her around the waist and lifted her without effort. Her feet connected with the concave bottom of the boat, but standing up increased the gentle sway to a bobbing which threatened to send her crashing down in a tangle of off-balance limbs. The unrelenting arms of her captor pulled her close, saving her from that fate. She couldn't