Part 29 (1/2)

”I can't believe this!” Sparrow muttered, slapping fat squid into an enormous pot. ”Bunch of animals! Tossing people overboard! Cursing like...devils!”

For the brief moments she'd spent on deck, she'd heard more vile language than she had in her lifetime-except a few words from Lock when he was angry.

Sparrow had only been on the s.h.i.+p for two days, and already she hated it. She spent most of her time in the stuffy, smelly kitchen-galley-but at least there she could avoid the crew. Between their scuffles, bellowing, and bawdy songs, she was ready to leap overboard herself. Twice a day, she was forced to distribute the food she cooked, mostly fish and squid, but also beans, hard, flat bread, and some fruit. Though the men said little to her, she felt their eyes on her as soon as she stepped on deck. Their expressions of l.u.s.t made her uncomfortable. She knew it wasn't because she was an incredibly beautiful woman, but because she was the only woman on board. Still, no one approached her, and she knew it was because they feared Lock. They feared his reputation, his size and strength. They feared the harsh expression in his pale blue eyes.

Truthfully, for the first time in months, he frightened her as well. Almost as soon as they boarded, he'd become distant, cold. Hard. She knew he had to act rough as a matter of survival-both his and hers, but she missed the Lock she'd fallen in love with. She missed the farm, Shea-Ann, and Daphne. She missed sharing her bed with Lock. Two days they'd been on the s.h.i.+p and he hadn't slept. He worked all day with the crew and Rino had given him a double watch at night.

She hated Rino. Hated him!

He was so envious of Lock his face was nearly as green as those fiendish eyes that undressed Sparrow every time she crossed his path. The other men looked at her with desire, but Rino was worse. Rino looked as if he wanted to tear her apart like a beast in heat then toss her bleeding carca.s.s into the sea. Lock was right not to trust him, and though he'd promised to keep her safe, she wondered if he really could. Several hundred men made up Rino's crew. How could Lock defend her against so many?

She stirred the pot and began mixing ingredients to make more flatbread. Once she distributed the meal and cleaned up, she could go to sleep for the night. Hopefully Lock would join her. Rino had to let him sleep sometime. Sparrow was more concerned for his injured ribs than his lack of sleep. She'd given up worrying about his shoulder. After two attempts at st.i.tching and bandaging it, he'd had her cauterize the gash. She'd nearly been sick when she'd burned the oozing, inflamed skin, again thinking how she'd never want to be a healer. He'd told her how to treat the wound with an herbal paste from Shea-Ann, and she prayed it would be enough to ward off infection.

”Infection, broken ribs,” she muttered, using her shoulder to brush a loose tendril of hair from her face. ”I'll just be happy if he lives to see the next port.”

He was so stubborn! The last time she'd gone on deck, she'd discreetly asked how he was feeling, and he'd snapped, ”Fine! I'm busy.”

She told herself he was as worried as she was and he must have been tired and sore, but still his tone had wounded her. She felt completely alone on a s.h.i.+p full of animals-her own lover being nearly as bad as the rest.

It was nearly dusk when she lugged food onto the deck. Men grabbed bowls and chunks of bread, nearly trampling her as they s.n.a.t.c.hed, slurped, chewed, and belched. Sparrow curled her lip in disgust and approached Lock who stood by the main mast knotting a spiky length of rope.

”Here.” She extended a bowl to him.

He tossed the rope aside and took the bowl. His hand brushed hers, rough and dirty, yet it made her tingle inside. The setting sun cast reddish shadows on his face. She noted his jaw and chin were stubbled from the beard growing in. Beneath his dark skin, his face looked unusually haggard. Still, his pale eyes gleamed with fury whenever Rino pa.s.sed.

”I won't ask how you are.” Sparrow tried to sound aloof.

Lock cupped her face in his hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

”If you're gonna hump her, take her below!” Laughed a short, st.u.r.dily built man to Lock's left, exposing a missing tooth in his skinny lips.

Lock's elbow shot backwards into the man's face. The crewman dropped the bread he was eating and clutched his mouth. He leaned over the deck and spat blood. ”b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You knocked out my other front tooth!”

”Be glad I didn't knock off your head!”

”He'd do it, too,” said a gravel-voiced, gray-haired man seated by Sparrow's feet. He chewed on a hard piece of bread. ”Sailed with him on the Shana Wh.o.r.e once. Seen him knock off heads, chop off hands, and other things that would make you think twice about crossing him. Lock the White. Never thought we'd be working the same deck.”

”Just atill the next port, he says.” A third man -rather short-legged for one so tall, giving him the look of an ape-joined their group. ”Ain't that right, Lock? Then Rino be rid of you.”

The gray-haired man snickered. ”Ain't so sure Rino wants to be rid of him. I think he likes him where he is.” He glanced at Sparrow. ”Heard you bought him out of slavery, girlie. That so?”

Sparrow placed a hand on her hip and lifted her chin. ”I know a good hunk of manflesh when I see it.”

Lock raised an eyebrow and the men laughed.

”I like you,” said the ape-man. ”You got spirit. You'll need it on the Lady Fire.”

Sparrow glanced at Lock before she gathered the empty bowls to clean below deck. His gaze swept her once from head to foot before he turned back to his work.

Several hours later, Sparrow curled up on a blanket in the corner of the galley. Tired, she closed her eyes, though she found it difficult to relax in the midst of such a crew.

She'd begun drifting off when she felt the presence of another in the room.

”Who's there?” she demanded, reaching for the rolling pin she kept close to her blanket.

”It's all right. Just me,” Lock said, groaning softly as he settled beside her.

”You must be exhausted.”

”Wouldn't be so bad if my ribs weren't killing me.”

”You're never going to heal like this.”

”I'm fine.”

”You keep saying that.” Sparrow offered him part of the blanket.

He tugged her against his chest.

”I smell like fish,” she said.

”Who doesn't? Kiss me.”

”Won't that destroy your illusion of frigidity with your mates up on deck?”

”I said before sarcasm doesn't suit you. Just kiss me.”

Sparrow slid up his body and touched her mouth to his. His lips were soft as she remembered. She kissed his upper lip then his lower before placing her mouth over his, her tongue slipping into his moist heat. He buried a hand in her hair as his tongue met hers. When the kiss broke, he lay beneath her in silence, his breathing slow and even.

Thinking he was asleep, she lit a lantern and unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt to examine his ribs.

”I'll be fine,” he murmured.

Her eyes shot to his. She unraveled the bandage, exposing a bruise that discolored most of his side. ”That's awful. Lock, this is crazy. You can't-”

”I've had worse. Remember? Don't worry about it.”

She moistened a cloth with cold seawater and placed it on his side.

”Everything's my fault anyway.” His eyes slipped shut. ”If I'd have asked the Empress for my freedom like you wanted me to, you wouldn't be here.”

”I don't think so, Lock.” She smoothed a loose white curl from his forehead. ”I think once she saw you, she'd have tried to take you for herself no matter what. You wanted to avenge Thea for me. No one's ever done anything like that for me before.”

”I'd do just about anything for you.” He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers as he fell asleep.

Sparrow kissed his cheek and rested her head against his shoulder. ”I love you.”