Free Her Pirate to Love: A Sam Steele Romance by Michelle Beattie

the gunwale. He addressed them now.
    “Let this be a warning to the lot of you. There’s to be no more talk of Grace, no more thinking of her, and the next bloody bastard I find in my cabin who hasn’t been authorized to be there will not be given the brig as a choice. Am I understood?”
    He glared around at his men, narrowed his eyes at those who weren’t fast enough to answer.
    “Now get back to work unless you want to join Isaac below.” With a nod to Aidan, the three of them shuffled down the main hatch. Aidan had the brig open when Steele pushed Isaac inside. Since his blood was still raging and his temper had yet to subside, Steele followed him in.
    Isaac had barely turned before Steele’s fist plowed into his face. Isaac’s howl no doubt made it up to the main deck. “That was for Grace.”
    Isaac spat, glared through slitted eyes as he wiped the blood from his nose. It was a good match to the red dripping from the slash Grace had left across Isaac’s cheek.
    Steele’s fist flew again, dropping Isaac to his knees. “And that was for me.”
    Then, leaving the man cussing, he turned and locked the cell. “Find Jacques,” he said to Aidan. “Send him to Grace. He’s to stay with her until either you or I replace him. For the moment, I want you at the helm. You see land through the sight glass, no matter how small a pile of dirt it is, turn the ship toward it. I won’t be long.”
    “Aye,” Aidan answered, leaving to his task.
    “You’re going to leave me marooned?”
    The whine laced with the fear wasn’t nearly enough restitution to suit Steele’s mood. “Marooning is the least of your worries,” he told Isaac. Then, needing to find a solitary spot and knowing his cabin was out of the question, Steele went further below.
    Steele didn’t have a lantern but he knew his ship. He splashed through the ever-present thin layer of water which remained no matter the bilge pumps ran nearly non-stop. The air was damp, humid, and smelled of brine. There were shadows in the shapes of crates, barrels, and casks. He stopped at the nearest crate, clutched it as he unleashed the emotions he’d barely contained in his cabin.
    Lord, the things that could have befallen Grace if he hadn’t heard her scream. Hadn’t given her a weapon. She’d have been at Isaac’s mercy and—
    He dug his fingers into the wood until the splinters pierced his skin. He’d very nearly failed her. Had it been stormy, he would never have heard her scream and it could have been hours before he would have had time to go below. He bowed his head as the anger subsided. She was fine, he reminded himself, though his breath bumped out of his lungs. She’d protected herself and done a fine job of it. Yet…
    Yet he’d assumed his crew would toe the line; that they would adhere to his orders. It was his error in judgment which had put her in harm’s way. Because the hatch leading to his cabin was near the quarterdeck, he’d assumed nobody could slip by unnoticed. Well, he wouldn’t make the same error again. From this point forward, she was either going to be with him, Aidan, or Jacques and if anybody else so much as even glanced at the hatch, they were going to be very sorry.
    *
    As luck would have it, when Steele reached the quarterdeck there was no land to be seen. His temper stirred, but he banked it. Isaac would get what was coming to him, even if it was going to take longer than Steele would prefer. He’d sailed this way before and knew they were within a day’s voyage of a few spits of dirt worthy of dumping a man like Isaac on.
    “Any grumbling?” he asked Aidan.
    “Curiosity more than grumbling, I’d say.”
    “They’ve seen me angry before.”
    “Not over a woman.” Aidan pointed out.
    “She’s on my blasted ship and in my cabin. The fact that she’s beautiful is pure happenstance and has no bearing on my actions. I promised her she’d be safe and—”
    Aidan’s lips twitched. The action not only stopped