“I’m sorry,” she said.
He waved her apology away with his usual bluster. “It won’t be the worst the men have eaten. Go finish pourin’ them mugs of ale.”
Christina scurried about the kitchen, feeling three inches tall. Too bad no one here was going to ask her about the latest fashion or who sat where at haut ton dinners. Those facts she could recite in her sleep. But cooking? She knew nothing about that.
With a sigh, Christina began pouring ale. Behind her, she heard footsteps.
That purposeful cadence could only belong to one person: The captain. As Pauly put it, hell’s bells. Why was he here?
Jaw clenched, she turned to face him. Thrusting the pitcher on the counter to prepare for confrontation, she nudged it against an object on the edge of the counter.
-53-
Shelley Bradley
The captain’s eyes widened. He lunged toward her with a curse. She jumped out of his way.
A moment later, the sound of breaking glass resounded in her ears. Her eyes followed the clatter and found the lantern.
She watched with horror as the lamp rolled across the floor, saturating the wood beneath their feet with oil. It spun away from her and whirled toward the wood-burning stove.
Immediately, the captain barked at Pauly to grab towels. Even as the Black Dragon sprang into action, she lunged for the lantern, stopping it short of the stove’s fire.
With short, urgent strokes, Pauly threw the wet cloths down and began mopping up the liquid. The captain tore off his shirt, disregarding its flying buttons, and added it to the towels. The Black Dragon joined Pauly’s attack on the wooden floor.
“Help us mop this up!” he snapped.
Christina knelt to assist, but a spark from the stove arced into the oil. The two ignited an instant flame that tore across the floor in an orange-red line.
The captain shoved her away.
Both he and Pauly backed away from the line of fire zipping between them, but the cook was not fast enough. The blaze swept across Pauly’s hand, scorching his skin. The cook screamed, and the captain cursed, his ripe oaths hanging in the air, along with the ghostly, cloying smoke. He reached inside a cabinet and snatched a canister, then dumped its snowy contents on the fire.
Flour, she realized as she watched blaze smother and die. With chagrin, she cast a wary gaze to the Black Dragon. She hadn’t meant to start a fire. But as he returned her stare with a killing glare, she knew she’d made a giant mistake.
“How bad is it?” The Black Dragon approached Pauly with concern masking his fury.
“It’s nothin’.”
But that was a lie. His waxy skin proved the cost he paid to restrain his moan. His forehead beaded with rivulets of sweat as he pressed white lips together.
-54-
The Lady and the Dragon
The captain turned to her. “Why is it that, wherever you go, trouble follows?
Damn it, go to your room and stay there. I’ll be down to deal with you.”
Christina sent a remorse-filled gaze to the cook, who cradled his injured hand. “I really am sorry.”
As he nodded, she followed the captain out of the galley and made her way to the back of the ship and her cabin. Dejection pulled her shoulders down.
She hadn’t meant to hurt Pauly—or anyone. He’d been the most likeable person she’d met on board, largely because he didn’t say a word more than necessary. His expression told her he didn’t judge her or her reasons for stowing on board.
Sinking onto her bunk, she dreaded the captain’s arrival and their inevitable confrontation. She didn’t have to wait long.
He pushed the door between their cabins wide open and hovered in the doorway. Inhaling a deep breath, he stood too still, except for the rise of his broad, naked chest. Wishing he had donned another shirt, Christina tried to look away. But her gaze lingered on the sculpted angles of his hard, golden torso and the tattoo of the dragon’s tail encircling his arm. His skin resembled polished bronze. Her mouth went dry.
She’d never seen anyone like him in her eighteen years, not even on the few ship yards she’d toured with Grandfather as a child. With a shiver, she admitted he was magnificent.
Realizing she’d been staring like a dim wit, pride nudged her to meet his glare.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “That you’d torch the whole ship just to spite me?”
His growl raised her hackles. “Of course not.”
“Lilli, you can’t play with fire on a wooden ship!” He stepped into the cabin.
Its tiny space shrunk around her. “You’ll kill everyone. Did that occur to you?”
He clearly thought her dim. She was guilty of being startled by his approach. So she would use more caution in the future. But, in typical tyrant fashion, the Black Dragon shouted, just like Grandfather.
“The fire was an accident,” she defended.
-55-
Shelley Bradley
He considered her for a terribly silent moment before he lifted a dark, cynical brow. “Was it?”
“Of course! If you hadn’t sneaked up behind me, I—”
“I didn’t sneak,” he corrected. “I came to check on you when Pauly told me you’d cut yourself. How is your finger?”
She spun away, feeling chagrined and wondering why he cared. “I shall heal.”
He made no reply, and silence hung in the thick air, tinged with salt and damp heat. Christina felt the captain’s eyes on her back, his stare single-minded. Part of her wanted to apologize, but knew he’d only fling it back in her face.
“Let me look at it.”
He grabbed her hand, engulfing it in his, and turned her to face him. Half-naked, he stood too close for comfort. She edged away as the captain inspected the slice on her finger.
She stared at their joined hands. Calluses lined his large palm and sun-darkened fingers; tender white skin, nursed by her idle days, covered hers. His hand looked capable with sturdy, long fingers. Her own seemed ridiculously frail in comparison.
Long moments slid past before Christina realized the captain’s gaze had focused on her face. She raised her eyes to his, drawn by the probe of his dark stare behind his mask. For a moment, her memory lingered on his kiss in the galley this morning. The persuasive pressure of his lips, the swirl of his tongue around her own, igniting her internal fires.
“Who are you, Lilli? Really? Is that even your name?”
Not for anything could she afford to answer his questions. “Who are you behind that mask? Why are you hiding?”
He paused, as if deciding whether to answer. “When you’ve become as infamous as I have, you protect yourself in every way possible, especially your identity. I’ve no wish to end up dangling from the end of a rope after I’ve retired.”
-56-
The Lady and the Dragon
“Pirates retire?” He answered with a glower. Brow wrinkled, she asked, “But why wear a mask around your own crew? They must
know—”
“Only Hancock knows,” he cut in. “I don’t trust anyone else.” He settled closer to her with a tight smile. “Now that I’ve answered all your questions, princess, I want answers to mine. Is Lilli your real name?”
Christina dropped her gaze. “I told you it was.”
He cupped her chin. “You also told me your father was a poor merchant.
But your dresses are well made, Lilli. Your hands are very soft.” His palm slid across her fingers as if to make his point, and she shivered. “You’re educated and you can’t cook. None of that fits with an impoverished merchant’s daughter.”
“My father didn’t want us to work,” she said softly.
He grunted softly, clearly disappointed, then trailed his thumb over her cut once more. “Be more careful from now on.”
He released her hands and turned away.
Without thought, Christina touched his bare arm to stay him. “It was an accident,” she reiterated. “I promise.”