“I suppose I can fill that position for the duration.”
Was he joking? She saw his grin as he sat down behind his desk. Carefully. Now all she could see above the desk were his handsome face and wide bare chest. Why the devil hadn’t he put a shirt on? She hadn’t shredded them yet, so he could have. She would have gotten up to get one and throw it at him, but preferred not to expose her bare legs to him. But she simply couldn’t stop staring at him. With muscles like that, no wonder he’d always found it so easy to restrain her.
She finally got her mind and eyes off his chest and arms and asked, “Should you even be out of bed yet?”
“The sawbones didn’t say I shouldn’t leave it.” He shrugged.
“He should have, or is he not a real doctor?”
“Of course he’s not a real doctor. His misnomer should have given you that clue. He’s good at chopping off limbs, but I doubt much else. How bad do you think this wound is?”
“Obviously not bad enough,” she hissed.
He was staring at her too intently, so she glanced at the table and wondered about making a run for it so she could get dressed. But he yelled toward the door, “Mr. Barker, have Jack—well, I suppose we’ll need to call your brother Jackie for the duration—bring my guest another tray.”
“I can eat cold food,” Jacqueline said loudly enough for the guard to hear, though she still stared at her nemesis. “So don’t do me any favors.”
“I do you all sorts of favors. You’re just usually too angry to notice.”
She had no clue what he meant by that, but she gave up waiting for some privacy and shot off the cot to retrieve the clothing she’d spread around his chairs last night. She only blushed a little when she picked up her underclothes and realized they were what that pirate had been inspecting.
“You look adorable this morning, wearing my shirt.”
She crossed back to the cot. “Did you buy this one for me?”
“No, I confess I like that color.”
Pink used to be a fashionable color for men, but that had been decades ago when bright satin jackets and knee-high britches were the choices of dandies, the more gaudy the better. Today men were much more staid in their dress. She was sure she’d laugh if she saw Bastard wearing the pink shirt. And since she’d rather he not think he amused her in any way, she decided not to give it back.
Laying her clothes on the cot, she reached for the rose brocade skirt, only to feel that it was still damp. She had decided on the sturdy traveling suit for the rendezvous for one reason, because even her day dresses were a little too fancy and she hadn’t wanted the Mask, or as she’d hoped, Bastard, to think she was trying to impress him. Why couldn’t that meeting have gone her way instead of his?
But she wasn’t surprised that the heavier brocade hadn’t fully dried yet, so she just put on her white petticoat. Made of fine batiste layered with only minimal puffing, each row bordered with a strip of white satin and dotted with tiny blue bows, it had been her hidden concession to elegance for the ensemble. Now it was no longer hidden.
She started to reach for her drawers next, but drew her hand back. She’d rather not give Bastard another performance for his amusement. She could wait until he left the room to put on the underclothes, so she unbuttoned the lower half of his long shirt and tied the lower edges around her waist. There, she was presentable and decent for the moment, even if her feet were bare.
“Nicely done.”
If she liked the man, she would have given him a jesting curtsy for that remark. She ignored him instead and took her skirt back to the chair so it could continue to dry.
She took a deep breath. “I want to see my men today.”
“I just saw them. You Malorys are all alike. Your brother tried to kill me.”
“He’s not my—” she started, but then smirked. “Is that why you’re bleeding again?”
“No, I was armed, he wasn’t, so it didn’t come to a scuffle.”
“I still want to see—”
“Then come here.” He patted his lap. “Let’s see how persuasive you can be.” Her immediate glare had him add, “No? Then settle for knowing they’re still breathing, and if you behave, you might get to visit them eventually.”
Behave? Or just not try to kill him again? It was infuriating that he’d drop crumbs that he knew damn well she wouldn’t pick up when he probably had no intention of ever letting her see Jeremy. Why would he? He was a bloody pirate!
Done with teasing her, he scolded, “You know you never would have made it to land last night. It was barely still in sight when you jumped. Do you realize the great distance you would have had to swim?”
“Another ship could have come along.” She sat down in a chair facing him.
“That would have been an incredible long shot. You were just a speck in the water, Jack. Even if a ship sailed past you, chances are the people aboard wouldn’t have noticed you even during the day, and certainly not at night. And dawn was a long way off.”
“If you’re expecting thanks for bringing me back, don’t hold your breath.”
His brows rose. “So you were willing to give up your life for your father?”
“Of course I would.”
“But was that really your plan?”
She wished now she’d taken a seat that didn’t face him. But she didn’t have to answer. She didn’t have to keep staring at those beautiful eyes, either, but she did.
She held her tongue waiting for him to press her, but he didn’t. So she was surprised to hear herself say, “I’m a good swimmer. I had every intention of succeeding.”
“Good to know that at least you aren’t fatally resigned, so I suppose we can simply agree to disagree on the outcome. But tell me, why didn’t you try to bargain with me first? You did before. Untold riches was your promise, wasn’t it, if I betrayed the pirate for you?”
She snorted. “It didn’t work last time, so why waste my breath?”
“But you haven’t even tried seducing me to your side, another option that wouldn’t require you to risk your life.”
Seduce him? Why the devil would he say that? He knew how much she hated him. But then she’d never been nice to him, not once, had only wanted to kill or hurt him whenever she got close enough to do so. She had no idea how trying to be nice to him would play out other than to make him suspicious since he knew her druthers fairly well. Yet it was still a tempting thought—seducing him to her side, not by bedding him, but by just making him think she might. She might even be able to convince him to take her home. No, how could she when she wouldn’t be able to resist punching him if she got that close. . . .
The cabin boy arrived with her second breakfast tray. He was a skinny lad about her height, with reddish-brown hair and freckles. He looked far too nervous, possibly because he knew, as everyone else did by now, that she’d stabbed his captain. She hoped she hadn’t hurt the boy yesterday when she’d shoved him out of the way for her aborted leap for the railing. She gazed briefly at his britches, wishing she had a pair.