"There be ten cases of French wine and four barrels of black powder in the hold of her. Dowd, you and Bump start carrying it over," Ric ordered.

Tupper sided up to him. "See ye made good of yer promise to bring her back."

Ric gave a short laugh before turning away. "Some promises should never be made."

"What happened on the island?" Tupper fell into step with him. "Caught all night in a rain storm. Ye don't look like two drowned cats. Find some shelter from the storm, did ya?"

Ric snapped at her. "Since when did you become my mother? You're not captain yet. I don't have to answer to you."

Tupper stopped walking, "Well, well. So that's te be the way of it."

Ric turned on his heel. "Be the way of what?"

"It doesn't take a blind man to see what's written all over yer face." Tupper pointed a finger at his nose before leaning close. "You've gone and fallen in love with her."

He folded his arms over his chest. "What of it?"

"Falling in love wasn't part of your grand plan, Capt'n."

Ric looked past Tupper's shoulder. Jocelyn, surrounded by his meager crew, raised her dark rum-colored eyes and held his gaze. It didn't take a blind man to see what was written on her face either. And when she smiled... "Nay, this was not the plan at all."

"Give me your clothes. If you can call them that. I've seen better rags on a swabber's mop." Tupper tossed Jocelyn a drying cloth and some soap.

Jocelyn was admiring the additions to Leviticus's new home. A stand made from what looked to be old belay pins, and a large cage made from spills. The cage was for sleeping, Tupper informed her. The crow had free rein the rest of the time. Right now, he was happy on his new favorite perch. Tupper's shoulder.

Jocelyn plucked at her skirts. "And what am I to wear?" Her mind flashed back to the image of a certain red silk dress, with the fitted sleeves and the deep neckline dripping into a beaded bodice. She'd never even gotten a chance to try it on. Ric had been too eager to drape her in jewels, and now some ugly angry pirate was probably using her dress to wipe his nose--or something worse.

Tupper pointed to a small stack of clothes on the corner of the desk. "It was only a matter of time before we got you wearing breeches. I never figured it would take this long."

"Men's trousers?" Jocelyn plucked at the pile.

Tupper laughed. "You'll love them." She tossed her a belt. "'Course you're such a spit of a girl, they're bound to be too big. You'll need a way to keep 'em up."

Jocelyn held the breeches to her waist. The long legs trailed out over her feet. "Couldn't I just mend my skirts?"

Tupper tipped her head appraising, "Can't mend parts aren't there." She patted her shoulder. "Trust me. It'll make him crazy."

Jocelyn frowned. "I don't understand."

"Women in men's pants. Makes men a bit mad. It's like they all of a sudden remember we've got legs." She nudged her with her elbow, "and what lies between them."

Jocelyn's cheeks heated.

Tupper continued, "Now I don't know what happened between you and Ric, and I sure as hell don't want to...but...I have to hear...stars?"

Jocelyn smiled, unwilling to share the details of her night with Ric. It was as if she'd been given some delicious secret and wanted to keep it near to her heart. Although a part of her desperately needed to ask Tupper whether this feeling of constant wanting ever subsided, or if she'd ever lose the flutter in her belly every time she caught Ric looking in her direction. Would she be able to explain why her soon-to-be-trousered legs seemed to turn to honey? Or could she ask Tupper to help by giving a name to that place...the one lying between...the one Ric seemed intent on, touching and swirling...the one that drove her a bit mad.

A rush of pleasure shot through her thinking about it. "Aye, stars."

Stepping onto the deck a short time later, Jocelyn was struck with the thought of the first time she'd set foot on these boards. She'd lost track of how many days had passed, but it seemed each time she emerged, another small part of who she'd been had somehow fallen away. Today was no exception.

Would the blessed Sister Bernadette have even recognized her? Jocelyn ran her hands down the odd-feeling pants covering her legs. Cropped hair, men's clothing, her sudden passion for rum, using the word "shite" in conversation, and a consuming desire to wrap her legs around a certain man's waist. No, Sister Bernadette wouldn't even know her name.

And yet, with all the change, to Jocelyn's mind, she was becoming more and more the woman she was always meant to be. As if her life had always been a size too small, and now, for the first time, she could finally breathe.

She caught sight of Ric climbing the rigging to help with setting a sail. She pressed a nervous hand to the flurry triggered in her belly at the mere look of him. How had she found such a beautiful man? And when exactly had she lost her heart to him?

Jocelyn knew the answer. It was odd. That morning felt as if it were a lifetime ago. Standing in the heat of the beating sun, shackled like a slave, when she had searched the crowd for a thread of hope. Any hope. There he was.

She was still looking for a thread of hope. But this time it wasn't to find him, more to keep him. There had to be some way she could convince him to change his mind about bringing her to Tortuga. She loved him. And he loved her. Didn't such truths mean they were fated to be together? There had to be a way.

One thing she had learned by fleeing to the island, the thought of never seeing him again had made her heartsick. And now, after the night they'd shared, how could she watch him sail away from her?

She couldn't. How was she going to convince him to let her stay? It wouldn't be easy. Who would imagine stealing a skiff, making her way to an island on her own, being overrun and shot at by yet more pirates, and escaping while stealing yet another ship would be simple by comparison?

Chapter 23.

Climbing out of the rigging, Ric saw her. Or better yet, he saw her walking away from him. Gone were the torn and ragged skirts Jocelyn been wearing for the last few weeks. The tan britches she had on in their place covered more, but the fabric hugging close to her behind and slipping past each thigh and calf had him adjusting the sudden tightness in his own britches. By rights, it should be his trousers she be in.

Even with her hair shorter and wearing men's trousers there was no mistaking the fact she was a woman. There was something in the gentle sway of a woman's walk--correction, this woman's walk--it reminded him of holding those hips in his hands as he pushed into her.

Glancing around, he noticed he wasn't the only one enjoying the new landscape of the beautiful Jocelyn Beauchamp.

"Get back to work. All of you. Summer, keep a steady course due west, but keep her far enough from shore to skirt--" his voice broke the word in two, but he recovered with a cough. "those reefs."

Jocelyn stopped and bent over to roll the bottom hem of each pant leg. Ric stifled a groan as a rush of blood to his cock had him curling his hands into fists. "I-I'll be below."

Coming up behind Jocelyn, he hooked her elbow as she straightened. "I need to speak with you."

She smoothed the fabric over the front of her thighs, "Yes?"

"In private," he growled as he grasped her arm once more and came close to dragging her below.

"Ric?" She ran to keep up with him.

He didn't answer and he didn't stop until they were in her quarters. As soon as the door closed behind them, he pinned her against the rough wood and took advantage of her surprised gasp to ravage her mouth.

Lifting her arms over her head he grasped her wrists in one hand while he swept the other over her body and cupped the gentle curve of her ass pulling her against his erection.

"Good God, Jocelyn. What have you done to me?" He moved a line of kissed down her throat.

"Whatever it was, please tell me so I can do it again," she whimpered.

He smiled against her collarbone, then gathering control of himself, tipped his head back and huffed like some caged beast.

He released her wrists and guided her arms around his neck before lowering his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry. I can't seem to help myself around you."

She cupped his cheek and placed another small kiss upon his lips. "Do you hear me complaining?"

"You should be. Damn it, you should be treated gently, not manhandled against a wall. Or taken on a floor, in the dust. You should be laid in a featherbed with clean white sheets and a mountain of pillows." He brushed his hand across her breast and held its weight in the cup of his palm. "You deserve so much better."

Jocelyn ran her fingers inside the open neck of his shirt to caress his skin. "I don't care about any of those things. None of it matters as long as I'm with you."

Slipping a hand around her waist, he held her close for a long moment. She rested her cheek on his chest and wrapped her arms about him. He loved how she tucked under his chin as if she'd been made for him. If only he could stay this way forever. Stop time.

Or better yet, turn the clocks back. Erase months and years and find her before his life's path had been decided. He'd have chosen better. For her. He'd have changed his course and become something worthy of her. Something honorable.

"We should be anchoring tomorrow after daybreak," he whispered. "By the time the sun sets on another day, you'll be back where you belong."

"Feels like I'm where I belong right now." She held tight.

The words caught in his throat. He simply shook his head.

"We still have tonight?" Jocelyn pulled back enough to look into his eyes.

Ric fingered the dark curls at her temple before brushing them away from her cheek and tucking their softness behind her ear. "Aye, we still have tonight."

She studied the open neck of his shirt. Laying a hand there again. Over his heart. "I-I don't want to spend my last hours in this room. I'll have an endless future of doors with locks. I'd like to be on deck. Surrounded by the night sky. Sea air. You." She lifted her gaze. "Spend the night with me?"

"And wrap you in stars?"

Jocelyn closed her eyes and pulled in a shuddered breathe as she nodded. A single tear slipped beneath her eyelid and began a silvery path down her cheek.

He caught it with his thumb.

Ric spent the rest of the afternoon finishing the entries in the ship's log and trying to put the rest out of his mind. Tomorrow with the raising of a sail and the wave of a quill, he'd return things to their rightful place and go back to being a simple forward gunner.

Jocelyn was leaving. Tupper was ready to take command of the Scarlet Night once again. They could get back to life before fate had thrown them into the middle of this storm.

Things wouldn't be as they were, of course. Too much had happened. Gavin and Neo and the rest of the crew were lost, but with a new crew and Tupper at the helm, at least they would go back to doing what they did best. Pirating. Laying siege to prey. Engaging in the fight. Battling for their lives through smoke and cannon fire and blood.

Ric set down his quill and poured himself more rum. He contemplated the way it sat in his mug for a long moment before drinking. An odd feeling washed over him.

At one time, the thought of battling and pirating put a fire in his belly and filled him with a rush of reckless danger. It was exhilarating. Manning his gun, smelling the hot oiled steel of the cannon barrel, watching the flame of the quick match drop into the fuse hole, and feeling the power of each blast rock through his body. Seeing that ball hit its mark and explode the target. Turning wood into slivers. Twisting iron like a screw. It's what drove him. Excited him. It's who he was, and he was one of the best.

But now...the idea of it didn't bring the same thrill. Maybe the haunting images of the earthquake's aftermath were taking their toll. Perhaps the responsibility of being captain was too great. Or it could be deep down he realized he could never go back to how things once were.

He couldn't rush through life with the same nave, carefree attitude. He wasn't immortal as he'd always believed. Defying death took on a new meaning. It wasn't only him anymore. Jocelyn was part of him now whether she was in his arms, or on the opposite side of the ocean. Or more correctly, he was part of her.

No matter where he went or what he did, she would still hold his heart. The idea brought with it brilliant joy and cavernous, crushing sorrow.

Damn it. The day was almost here, and he still couldn't think past raising the sail on the sloop. The idea of saying good-bye to her. Walking away without looking back. There was a chance he wouldn't survive.

Ric emptied his mug, raised the light in the lamp to finish the logs.

"Still at it?" Hornbach came into the galley rolling a barrel of what appeared to be salted meat.

"Aye." Ric rubbed at his eyes. "Did you manage to gather what I asked for?"

"Ye don't ask for much now, do ya?" he grumbled. "fresh bread, cheese. Surprised ye dinna ask me to bake ye a cake."

"I'll remember a cake for next time," Ric countered. "And the blankets and lanterns?"

"Aye, it's all out there." Hornbach flipped a hand.

"Good, and you've passed the word along to the rest?"

Hornbach rolled his eyes. "Aye, we're all te leave ye to yer tea party."

Ric didn't care for the man making light. "I don't want anyone on deck tonight. You told them?"

"Aye." He threw his hands up and gave Ric an impatient look, "Why all the fuss? Ye'd think ye ne're fucked a bloody chit bef--"

Ric was out of his chair and had his pistol pointed in Hornbach's face before the man could finish his sentence. Ric cocked the hammer. "If you ever talk about her like that again, it will be the last thing to cross your lips."

"Easy, easy!" Hornbach pushed the muzzle of the gun away from his nose. "Ye ken, there be a time when ye could take a blasted joke."

"Does it look like I'm joking? Shut your hole and get back to work." Ric shoved his pistol back into his baldric Hornbach snorted and lumbered away. "Be glad when ye're done captainin'. Ye been a lot more fun 'fore ye started walkin' round here wit that stick up yer arse."

Ric snapped. "I thought I told you to shut up."

Hornbach flipped him a one-fingered salute with both hands. "Aye, aye, Capt'n."

Not long after eight bells, the sun relinquished the sky to the moon. Ric stood in the bow and waited for her.

"I'm going to miss this view."

Ric turned at the sound of her voice and drank in the sight of her profile in the fading light. "As am I."

Jocelyn gave him a coy smile and pointed toward the horizon. "I was talking about out there."

"I wasn't." He took her hand. "Come with me, I have a surprise for you."