As Flint escorted Emma back to the captain's quarters, she couldn't help but become heated at the thought of Charles's physique. Emma had never seen so much muscle on a man before. It was enough to make even the politest members of society stop and take notice. At least that's what she tried to tell herself as she willed herself to push those thoughts out of her mind. Try as she might, they just kept coming to the forefront.

  That night, as Emma slept, she dreamed about him and all the things that body could do. It was the first time Emma had such an erotic dream. A woman of her stature was never even to think about such things until they were married, and even then, such things were only done to produce heirs. Emma wished she had the opinion of her schoolmates. They were probably the only women she would have trusted with such a conundrum. They were thousands of miles away now in London.

  When she woke from her sleep after the most scandalous one, she lay in bed tossing and turning. She tried several times and in various positions to get back to sleep, but the more she tried to not think about him, the more she did. It also didn't help that Flint was snoring on the floor. She admitted it was at least a gentle snore and not one like a bear that she'd heard some of the married ladies complain about.

  When the sun began peeking out of the horizon, she finally got out of bed. She wondered if there were any men on deck and if she could take a walk to try to burn some of the restlessness she had. She knew Flint would hate it, but she needed to move.

  She dressed herself, fixed her hair as best she could, and carefully opened the door. She eased her way out and turned so she could gently close the door while still keeping an eye on a sleeping Flint.

  “You do realize that you're tempting fate.”

  The gravelly voice caused her to whirl around in shock. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she swore the man scared a year of her life away. Charles emerged from the shadows of the ship. His arms crossed over his chest.

  From his statement, Emma didn't have to ask why he was there. He had already admitted it. He was there to catch her.

  “You scared me half to death!” She whispered harshly at him.

  “Good.” Charles wore a serious face when he spoke to her, which made her cringe.

  “Please, I've had a terrible night. I couldn't get any rest. I just wanted to walk a little.” In her exhausted state, she found herself pleading for forgiveness from him.

  “Your stomach still hasn't settled?” Charles' expression went from stern to searching.

  Emma nodded and tried to come up with a fast excuse.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Emma told him, which wasn't exactly a lie.

  Emma weighed the options she had. Go back inside, lie down, and roll about for however long it took Flint to get up, or ask Charles for a favor.

  “Would you walk with me on deck?” Emma asked him.

  Charles stepped back and motioned for her to pass. She quickly shuffled past him and began her way to the deck with Charles closely following behind.

  The fresh, brisk air that blew across the deck caused Emma to breathe deeply.

  As she and Charles walked around the deck, they did so without saying a word. It was refreshing to move, and Emma, and instead of being mad that Charles was spying on her, she was grateful.

  “Thank you, Charles.” Emma half mumbled the words in an attempt to save face in front of him.

  “You're welcome.” Charles' graveled voice answered with pride. Like he'd known the thanks were coming.

  “Why do you do that?” Emma huffed.

  “Do what?” Charles asked with a smirk.

  “Provoke me?” She said, her eyes narrowing into a glare.

  “It's fun.” Charles chuckled.

  Emma took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale.

  “Provoking me is fun?”

  Charles shrugged. “You have a lot of spirit.”

  “Saying I have spirit and provoking me into fights will not gain you favor with me.”

  “Then what will?” Charles asked, pressing closer.

  “Being a gentleman,” Emma confessed, but after the dreams she'd had, was that really what she wanted? She was second-guessing herself, and she must have hesitated enough when she said it because Charles pressed even closer.

  “Are you sure?” He asked. He reached out his hand, and the back of his forefinger brushed the back of her hand.

  She knew she should pull away, she knew she should warn him against such an act, but her voice wouldn't leave her throat. All she could do was clear it.

  Charles seemed to accept her silence as a sign to move forward with whatever she knew he was planning. He took hold of her hand, turned it a little, and brought it up to his lips so he could place a kiss on her wrist of all places. Seeing as how the area was so sensitive, she guessed the reaction that happened was just as effective as any kiss on her mouth.

  Everything in her tightened, and her breath entirely caught in her lungs when his callused fingers began drawing oblong circles in conjunction with his kisses. She shuddered from head to toe.

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  Charles had used this as a distraction. She realized too late that his other hand had come up over her shoulder. His fingers glided up her throat and around the back of her neck so he could pull her forward.

  He kissed her again, but this time, she didn't seem to have the willpower to stop him. She remembered what he had looked like with his shirt off. She had remembered the way her body felt when she had dreamed about the way he had touched her.

  This time, when he urged her to part her lips, she did. She allowed his tongue to take slow, agonizing tastes of her mouth. Despite the breeze, her body quickly overheated as Charles wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

  The more Charles did to her, the more curious Emma became about how he would feel if she were to return this tumultuous behavior. She did what she longed to do and reached out to touch him. Her hands came to rest on his sides. She could feel every bump of muscle and rib beneath his thin shirt as it moved, and she found the feeling oddly satisfying. She could feel his intake of breath as his chest expanded. She pondered something and, rather than reason, she acted.

  Emma dug her nails into the flesh there. Charles' body reacted to the pain by cringing, but he didn't stop kissing her. Instead, his hand in her hair tightened, and he yanked backwards and demanded more from her mouth with his kiss until she eased her grip.

  When he finally broke the kiss, she was half dazed. Charles pulled her that much closer so he could speak his request into her ear.

  “Go below deck with me.”

  She knew what he was asking from her. He wanted to make love to her. She knew that much was obvious, but was she ready for that yet? Society would say that by asking the question, she wasn't. How disparaging.

  Emma shook her head. “We shouldn't.”

  Charles tilted her head so he could start to kiss her neck. The feeling of his mouth and his heavy breath there caused her body to jerk in response. Her grip on him tightened, and she swore she could feel him smile against her skin.

  “Are you sure?” His rasped voice questioned.

  She wished she knew anymore. Charles suddenly backed away. He reached down and took hold of her hand. She thought for a moment he would lead her down below deck, but all he did was lead her to a hidden part of the deck where they were somewhat sheltered from spying eyes. He gathered her into his arms again and went back to kissing her, but this time, while his lips were on hers, his hands began to roam over her body. He went slowly. Touching her back or her arm was a safe place. Then a hand glided over her backside and squeezed. The possessive hold made Emma's body ignite with passion.

  Things escalated quickly as the two continued to kiss each other. It was only when Charles went to lift her skirt that Emma began to protest.

  “Charles, wait.” She begged between kisses.

  “I'm not going to fuck you, but I am going to taste you.” He told her as his kisses started to travel downward.

  Emma didn't think about what he said until it was too late. Charles lifted her skirt, kneeled, parted her legs, and took one long lick of her sex. Emma had to slam her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. The feeling was so sinfully delicious.

  Emma snaked her hand into Charles's hair to try to urge him to slow down, but her pulling only seemed to piss him off, and he devoured her that much more intently.

  Emma's knees grew weak, and it became increasingly difficult for her to hold herself up. She let a deep moan slip out on accident when Charles found a perfect spot to tease. He continued to tease it until a wave of pleasure so great swept over her that every muscle in her body constricted until it was almost painful. Her hands in his hair fisted as she bit her lips to the point of nearly drawing blood to keep from screaming out.

  Emma's body went limp as aftershocks of pleasure coursed through her. Charles rose to his feet. A smug smile on his lips. She was too weak to protest as his hands roamed over the bare skin of her legs, as he purposely kept her how he wanted her, open to him.

  Charles leaned in close. His stubble-covered face scraped against her cheek as he growled in her ear.

  “That is how I can make you feel.”

  Then he dropped her dress, stepped back, and walked away.

  Emma was a little disoriented at first, but anger swiftly took its place when she realized Charles had done all of this on purpose. He'd given her a taste of something, but he wanted her to come to him for the whole meal.

  NEVER! She made the promise to herself, but after what had just happened, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep it. That had been downright extraordinary. Damn that man!

  Emma knew she couldn't stay where she was, so she started to storm off back to the captain’s quarters. She had just cleared the deck and come below when she came face to face with Flint. He looked furious.

  “I only left to take a walk.” She had meant to say the words firmly, but looking at him made her confess them like a sorrowful schoolgirl who had been caught stealing.

  “Do you like him?” Flint asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

  “Like who?” Emma tried to play innocent, even though she knew he probably knew what had happened. Well, she hoped he didn't know exactly what happened.

  “Things will go a lot easier if you just tell me the truth.” Flint insisted.

  Emma couldn't argue with his logic.

  “In truth. I don't know.” Emma confessed. “I guess you could say I'm curious.”

  “Curious?” Flint addressed that issue unrelentingly.

  “Please, Flint,” Emma begged. “I never saw myself getting attached to such a man, but what do I have left to me now? Perhaps your way of life doesn't seem as bad to me as it once did. Maybe I'm just going mad?”

  “You have everything left open to you,” Flint told her.

  “I'm a woman, Flint.” Emma was not as hopeful about her future.

  “So,” Flint shrugged.

  “Society dictates a place for me.”

  “Fuck society.” Flint scoffed.

  Emma almost laughed, but not because it was funny. In a sense, that way of thinking was as terrifying as it was freeing.

  “I have nothing.” Emma sighed.

  “You have me. You have Charles, Silver.” Flint told her.

  “I don't want to be a burden.”

  “Then don't be.”

  “Do you think it would be wrong of me to get involved with Charles?” Emma asked Flint.

  Flint relaxed a little.

  “It's not a secret that I don't like Charles, but for all I hate him for, I do think he is loyal to the women he loves.”

  Emma cringed at the thought of being one among many. “Women?”

  “Woman.” Flint corrected himself. “I have only seen him love one woman.”

  “What was her name?” Emma asked. She knew she was being nosy, but the alternative was to ask Charles herself, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for his answer yet, or if he would even answer the questions at all.

  “Her name is Eleanor Guthrie. She runs a business on Nassau, trading goods that pirates have obtained.”

  “Are they?” Emma choked on the words she tried to say.

  “Are they still involved?” Flint finished the question.

  Emma nodded.

  “That, I can't answer for sure. However, seeing as how Charles was here to try to take this ship from me, I would say the outcome of whatever happened on Nassau after I left would be a good indicator that their relationship has reached its end.”

  That didn't sound hopeful. Emma knew pestering Flint for the answers was useless. He'd just admitted he didn't know what happened between the two of them.

  “Is she pretty?” Emma asked nervously.

  “Yes,” Flint answered so quickly Emma almost got mad at him for it until he added to it. “But you shouldn't compare yourself to anyone else. Charles wouldn't be interested in you if he wanted someone who was Eleanor. He'd go back to her if that were the case.”

  Emma pouted. Flint's words made sense.

  “So does this mean I have your blessing to be around him?” Emma brought up the subject lightly.

  “Fuck no.” Flint snarled.

  “But you just...” Emma started to protest.

  “I'm reasonable, not delusional. Now that I know how you feel about him, I'm not letting him within a yard of you.”

  “Flint!” Emma exclaimed his name in anger, but he just laughed at her.