Free The Pirate's Jewel by Cheryl Howe Page B

every
other man on board this vessel. Now go below!”
    She narrowed her gaze and lowered her voice. “You might be
the master of this ship, Captain Kenton ”—she sneered the title—“but you
aren’t the only captain in the colonies interested in what I have to offer.
Dump me in Boston and I’ll find someone to take your place within the hour.”
    Nolan stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from
wringing her neck. The urge to tell her that she didn’t have all the pieces to
the puzzle, that she didn’t have the book, almost overcame him just to dissolve
her confident grin. Common sense and the fact that he wasn’t sure how his
father’s book on the occult fit in stopped him. “I’m sure you’d have no problem
finding a man who could satisfy your needs and his own in the process. Is that
what you want?”
    She didn’t flinch at his deliberate crudeness. In fact, she
appeared more composed than he. “Apparently, that’s what you want.”
    “I want the bloody map, and what happens to you after that
is no concern of mine. Now go below.” Nolan turned and strode to the railing,
before he did something he might regret. He gripped the smooth, varnished wood
with enough force to turn his knuckles white. The strong winds coming off the
sea managed to cool his cheeks. He took several deep breaths. When he could
again see the green of the ocean and the blue of the sky without the angry red
film that had clouded his vision, he glanced over his shoulder. Jewel stood
anchored in the spot in which he had left her. Her hands were on her hips and
her feet were braced, daring him to drag her below.
    He took several more deep breaths, and then slowly walked
back to where she stood. If she couldn’t see that he teetered on the verge of
snapping, he would no longer hold himself responsible for his actions. “Miss
Sanderson, please go below.”
    She took a step back but held that new ground. Under the
weight of his steady stare, her gaze finally faltered.
    “I’m not giving you the map,” she said almost under her
breath. Then she turned abruptly and walked toward the hatchway, never giving
him a backward glance.
    He stood rooted to the deck. Damnation. He had been to sea
for less than a month and already Jewel would force him to sink lower than he
had ever wanted to go.
    ***
     
    The brass handle turned without a catch. Nolan cursed silently.
He’d told her to lock the damned door. Bloody hell, since meeting Jewel again
he was swearing like a sailor and thinking like a pirate. Outwardly, he might still
appear the decorous privateer captain, but inside he knew he was slipping back
to his old ways. He had to get Jewel off his ship even if it meant using the pirate
still lurking in his soul to do it.
    He tucked the metal file he had brought to pick the lock
in the waistband of his breeches. In the sleepy hours between midnight and
dawn, he allowed himself to go without a coat, rolling up his shirt sleeves
against the balmy southern nights. The gentle creak of the riggings blended
with the faint sound of wind and wave. A calm night afloat could rock a grown
man to sleep like a newborn baby. Surely it would lull one overconfident
troublemaker into slumber.
    Nolan hovered in the shadows at the entrance of the dark
cabin until his vision adjusted. Moonlight filtered through the portholes like
water poured from a pitcher, creating a blue-black halo around the bunk where
Jewel slept. The night was exceptionally warm. Bedclothes lay tangled around
her feet. To his relief, she was dressed in the same clothes she’d worn when he
saw her last. Stealing the map from her was bad enough; he hadn’t planned to play
the voyeur by gawking at her in the nude. But that didn’t stop a small seed of
unwanted disappointment from sprouting in the center of his chest. He tore his
gaze from Jewel and headed for the desk.
    She would have hidden the map someplace unusual. He knew
enough about her to realize conventional wisdom eluded her. He