Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Her nightgown was in tatters, so there was no point hanging it up. Letting it fall to the floor, she stepped over the lip of the tub and submerged her body in the warm water, clumsily sloshing the water over the sides.
The man kept his gaze averted but settled into the empty chair. “The water is warm enough for you, miss?”
Why was he being so nice to her? “Yes, thank you.”
He didn’t break the silence for a long time, and her sense of peace slowly transformed into unease. What if he was one of the last people she ever spoke to?
“Will you tell me your name?”
“Name’s Gideon Star.”
She didn’t know what to say next. She wouldn’t lie and say it was nice to meet him, so she asked, “Do you like the captain?”
“Never gave it much thought. A crew obeys their captain. Whether one likes him or not is irrelevant.”
Curling her shoulders inward, she pushed the water over her skin. “But do you like him?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “Well enough, I suppose.”
She looked about the lavish quarters, wondering if part of the captain craved a different life. She glanced over her shoulder, but the man wasn’t watching her. She sensed humanity in him. If she ignored his purpose here and the worn appearance of his clothes, she could imagine him as one of her father’s peers.
“You weren’t always a pirate, were you?”
He stood and cleared the table, never letting his gaze stray toward the tub. “No, I once owned property and inherited a small fortune, but that was a very long time ago, and fortunes come and go.”
Although he moved about the chambers, he never dared to look at her. She watched him as he spread a cloth across the table, smoothing the creases with care.
“You lost your fortune.”
“The one I had at that time, yes. It only takes a few poor choices to change a man’s entire world.”
“Or a few wise ones.”
“Touché.” He set out a new bottle of wine and clean glasses. “That’s something Hook might say.”
“Hook?”
“The captain,” he explained. “Captain James Hook. He’s an exacting man, but not a cruel one. Not unless he has to be.”
“They don’t call him Black Jack?”
Gideon stilled from polishing the silver cutlery. The fine pieces glinted in the flickering lamplight as he carefully inspected each one before laying it down. “Those who value their lives don’t.”
What if this wasn’t the pirate the Lost Boys spoke of?
She considered the matching coats. It had to be the same person. Peter had told her that people went by any name they wanted in the Never Lands. Perhaps Captain James Hook went by two names, and his enemies called him Black Jack.
Gideon set the table with fine bone china adorned with delicate gilded edges. Even the goblets appeared to be crystal. Why such opulence?
She looked at the candlelight. The ambiance confused her. The captain said she would have a light snack, but Gideon appeared to be setting a scene for a luxurious feast for two.
Was this a practiced act? His men seemed to know the dance so well.
“Does he make a habit of feeding the women he kidnaps?”
“I’m afraid we’re not in the habit of kidnapping women.” He looked back, finally meeting her eyes as if to show his sincerity as he softly warned, “Careful, dear. There are ears everywhere.”
What did that mean? When he said nothing more, she reached for the washcloth and crude lump of soap.
The sharp scent of bergamot filled the air as she silently washed her body. It was another scent she smelled on the captain, and she strangely liked it when it should have made her sick.
Gideon arranged a small vase of flowers. Nothing about this situation was normal.
Did they know what the captain planned to do to her?
She flushed at the memory of him shoving his finger inside of her. How mortifying and dehumanizing. Yet, here she was, preparing herself for more. There was definitely something wrong with her.
“The captain’s not without his compassion,” he said as if sensing her worry.
She thought of the sultan who married a new Arabian wife every night, only to order her death by the following dawn. It wasn’t until one particular woman held his interest that the murders stopped.
“What does the captain like?” If she wanted to survive, she would have to play the game.
“He values loyalty above all else. Cross him, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”
Her shiver of fear only galvanized her determination. “You said his name is James?”
“Aye, but I wouldn’t call him that if I were you. Best to stick to Sir or Captain.”
Using his name could create a sense of intimacy. If she treated him like a respectable gentleman, he might meet her with similar respect.
The elegant table created a romantic scene that mocked the true nature of her predicament. She sensed him preparing to leave and panicked at the moving of time.