Free The Pirate Takes A Bride by Shana Galen Page B

was not going to be a victim again. She would defeat this fire or die trying.
    She hit the flames three times then four, eventually dropping all the covers but one heavy blanket. Her arms would not support the weight. But with that blanket she smothered and covered and suffocated as many of the flames as she could. Her breath came in short, choked gasps, and the skin of her face felt raw and chapped from the heat, but she did not falter.
    She did not even hear her name being called until Nick’s voice rose with what sounded like alarm.
    Finally, she turned to see him rushing toward her. He’d shed his coat and was clad in a white linen shirt, open at the throat, tight black trousers, and black boots. He had a pistol in his belt and a sword in one hand. His dark hair, which gleamed blue-black in the sunlight, was dull with ash and hung about his face. But his bright blue eyes were steady and piercing. She paused just to stare at him. She could not help but do so. He was so beautiful and so dangerous in that moment. She wanted to fall into his arms and allow him to save her, allow him to make all of this go away.
    But she was neither so weak nor so trusting. He was the one who had brought her here. She would be the one to extricate herself.
    The heat seemed to strike at her again, and she turned her attention back to the flames, hitting at them weakly with the heavy blanket.
    “Ashley!” Nick called again.
    She hadn’t been certain he was not a mirage, but he gripped her arm now and yanked her to him. She pushed him back and away, satisfaction ripping through her when she saw him stumble back, off balance. “I must…put out…this fire,” she told him. Nothing would stop her from dousing the flames now.
    He found his legs again and reached for her. “Ashley, let me help you. Your gown is on fire.”

 
    SIX

     
    N ick watched as she went absolutely rigid, her chin lowering with exaggerated slowness to glimpse her gown. It was indeed smoking—not on fire as he’d said—but it could quickly catch fire. It was undoubtedly muslin and prone to burn easily.
    She screamed, and did exactly what he’d hoped she would not do: began to dance about and slap at the smoking clothing. Without speaking another word, he grabbed her by the arms, shoved her against the wall not in flames, and used the blanket she’d dropped to smother the smoldering fabric. Then, just to be certain, he ripped that section of muslin from her ruined gown so her petticoats were showing.
    He looked up at her, and she blinked down at him as though completely confused. Her pupils were black and she shook as though cold. Shock, he thought. She was terrified. A panicked woman was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment. His plan—genius, if he did say so himself—had worked. He’d actually surprised himself because the less foolhardy part of himself had been reasonably certain he would fail miserably and be responsible for the death or imprisonment of all aboard.
    But it appeared he would live to regret another day, and the ship was now being battered about in the squall. The
Robin Hood
hadn’t lost the ship-of-the-line yet. Nick thought The
Formidable
had sustained damage to the rudder, but once McCoun repaired the rudder, the ship would be on him like fleas on a mongrel. Silently, he prayed for another half hour. With Daniels at the helm and the rain and wind limiting visibility, the two ships would soon be all but invisible to each other.
    Nick had plenty to concern him, but he’d been passing on his way to the orlop deck and heard what sounded like her scream. It had been impossible for him not to go to her. Before he knew what he was about, he was sweeping her into his arms and cradling her against his chest. “I have you,” he murmured into her wheat-blond hair that smelled much more of smoke now than the ripe fruit he always associated with it.
    He kicked his cabin door open and carried her inside, surprised she gave him no