I don’t remember the capture, just the wreck, the fire, the screams as the ship went down. Blurred shapes of red, brown, gold and silver slowly come into focus illuminated by flickering candlelight. I stir and when the soft sheets caress my skin I realize I’m in a bed. Naked. The recognition of my vulnerability startles me awake.
Movement across the cabin draws my attention and I see him sitting quietly in a red leather wingback chair, watching me. His white shirt is rolled up at the sleeves revealing weathered arms. He is leaning forward, elbows propped on knees clad in black pants, his chin resting on clasped hands that wear several gold rings. Shoulder length black hair frames his tanned face out of which piercing gray eyes gaze. He’s beautiful.
“You’re awake.”
His voice is low, rumbling and soothing, like antique velvet.
“What happened?” I whisper.
“We plundered the ship,” he says matter-of-factly.
“The crew? The passengers?” I croak.
“All in little row boats headed for shore. They’ll be fine. We’re thieves, not murderers.”
“But you took me. Why?”