obstruct her ability to smell. If possible,
the stench was more dreadful than what the sailor had produced. Aimee had no idea
where she was or what she was smelling, but she prayed to every saint she could remember
for it to end.
Planting a foot down on something solid, she shoved herself to a sitting position
and slowly inched along the floor until she felt a sack containing something with
large lumps behind her and then leaned back, hoping it would support her.
She had no idea how long she had been on the ship. It could have been just a few hours
or a day—maybe even two, according to her stomach. It was possible her captors had
left her to starve to death. Her only hope was to free herself.
Aimee fought against the bindings with renewed strength. After several minutes, her
skin had become raw and she could feel blood running down her fingertips. The rope,
however, had not loosened at all. Tears began to fall.
Millie and Jennelle had been right. No intelligent plan would ever allow this level
of failure. Since she’d been separated from her friends, she had experienced practically
every emotion except the one she had been seeking. The residual anger, fear, and despair
were now morphing into misery.
She was going to die, and only a few feet below the man she loved.
Aimee wondered how Reece would react when he learned she had died trying to reach
him. At the very least, she hoped he would regret refusing to see or talk to her.
“Eh, you there. You still alive?”
Aimee awoke with a start at the sound.
Petey witnessed the movement and smiled. It had been just over two days since they
put out at sea. Captain Hamilton had been in a fierce mood, keeping his men working
until they fell asleep at their posts. The captain was the best of leaders, and Petey,
as well as the rest of the crew, would follow him into the pits of hell, knowing that
each time, Captain Reece Hamilton would see them to the other side. But not a man
on his crew wanted to see the Thames anytime soon. They would go to any port in the
world as long as it was not in England. The last two times they had anchored there,
it was pure hell for several days afterwards, and this visit had been no different.
Aimee felt rough hands reach behind her head and begin to loosen the knot holding
the gag tightly in place. “Now, if you make a noise, I’ll be putting the rope back
and leavin’. You hear me?”
Aimee nodded her head and her mouth was free seconds later. She licked her lips, knowing
she would never again be unappreciative of the ability. Then she felt the rough cloth
covering her face being yanked off, allowing her hair to tumble free down her back.
Aimee blinked several times and inhaled deeply, thankful to breathe in what felt like
fresh air. The room was dimly lit but it still took her eyes several seconds to adjust.
She was finally able to discern that the faint light came from the small doorway adjacent
to some stairs across the way. She looked around and realized that she was in some
dank hold that contained crates and food—some of which smelled as if it was already
rotting.
Petey watched in total shock as the beaten beauty looked around and took in her surroundings.
He had kidnapped a bloody female ! There was no way he was going to tell the captain that this girl was the one thieving
their ships. He would skin him alive, even though it was true. The captain came from
nobles and took their gentlemen’s code to an extreme.
The girl glanced around the dank room, licking her lips, when suddenly her green eyes
settled on him and darkened dangerously. Petey held his breath. He had seen plenty
of women. Those who worked by the docks or around them were either old and worn ragged
from years of hard labor or young and scraggly. This one was neither.
Dirt was smeared on her face and she was wearing men’s clothes, but none of it could
detract from the beauty that
the stench was more dreadful than what the sailor had produced. Aimee had no idea
where she was or what she was smelling, but she prayed to every saint she could remember
for it to end.
Planting a foot down on something solid, she shoved herself to a sitting position
and slowly inched along the floor until she felt a sack containing something with
large lumps behind her and then leaned back, hoping it would support her.
She had no idea how long she had been on the ship. It could have been just a few hours
or a day—maybe even two, according to her stomach. It was possible her captors had
left her to starve to death. Her only hope was to free herself.
Aimee fought against the bindings with renewed strength. After several minutes, her
skin had become raw and she could feel blood running down her fingertips. The rope,
however, had not loosened at all. Tears began to fall.
Millie and Jennelle had been right. No intelligent plan would ever allow this level
of failure. Since she’d been separated from her friends, she had experienced practically
every emotion except the one she had been seeking. The residual anger, fear, and despair
were now morphing into misery.
She was going to die, and only a few feet below the man she loved.
Aimee wondered how Reece would react when he learned she had died trying to reach
him. At the very least, she hoped he would regret refusing to see or talk to her.
“Eh, you there. You still alive?”
Aimee awoke with a start at the sound.
Petey witnessed the movement and smiled. It had been just over two days since they
put out at sea. Captain Hamilton had been in a fierce mood, keeping his men working
until they fell asleep at their posts. The captain was the best of leaders, and Petey,
as well as the rest of the crew, would follow him into the pits of hell, knowing that
each time, Captain Reece Hamilton would see them to the other side. But not a man
on his crew wanted to see the Thames anytime soon. They would go to any port in the
world as long as it was not in England. The last two times they had anchored there,
it was pure hell for several days afterwards, and this visit had been no different.
Aimee felt rough hands reach behind her head and begin to loosen the knot holding
the gag tightly in place. “Now, if you make a noise, I’ll be putting the rope back
and leavin’. You hear me?”
Aimee nodded her head and her mouth was free seconds later. She licked her lips, knowing
she would never again be unappreciative of the ability. Then she felt the rough cloth
covering her face being yanked off, allowing her hair to tumble free down her back.
Aimee blinked several times and inhaled deeply, thankful to breathe in what felt like
fresh air. The room was dimly lit but it still took her eyes several seconds to adjust.
She was finally able to discern that the faint light came from the small doorway adjacent
to some stairs across the way. She looked around and realized that she was in some
dank hold that contained crates and food—some of which smelled as if it was already
rotting.
Petey watched in total shock as the beaten beauty looked around and took in her surroundings.
He had kidnapped a bloody female ! There was no way he was going to tell the captain that this girl was the one thieving
their ships. He would skin him alive, even though it was true. The captain came from
nobles and took their gentlemen’s code to an extreme.
The girl glanced around the dank room, licking her lips, when suddenly her green eyes
settled on him and darkened dangerously. Petey held his breath. He had seen plenty
of women. Those who worked by the docks or around them were either old and worn ragged
from years of hard labor or young and scraggly. This one was neither.
Dirt was smeared on her face and she was wearing men’s clothes, but none of it could
detract from the beauty that
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