Pirates Treasure E-Book

Debbie Diamond

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 401

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

In an age when a woman's fate is sealed by the whims of powerful men, Lady Julia Canarvon finds herself trapped in the gilded cage of an arranged marriage to the vile Lord Canelli. Yearning for freedom and genuine love, Julia embarks on a daring adventure that will change her life forever.

When pirates attack the ship carrying Julia and her handmaiden, Marie, she becomes the captive of the dashing and enigmatic Captain Antonio Del La Mar. Their relationship ignites a passionate fire of desire, awakening Julia's senses and testing her limits—but will the raw chemistry between them be enough to fend off the dark forces plotting their downfall?

As secrets are revealed and alliances falter, Julia must confront her desires and the price of true freedom. Will she escape the clutches of a dangerous man intent on reclaiming her for his own, or will she ultimately choose the path of love with the pirate captain who now holds her heart?

Join Julia on her exhilarating journey filled with romance, danger, and the quest for autonomy in a world that seeks to deny her.

Leseprobe

Pirates Treasure

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

PIRATES TREASURE

First edition. January 1, 2025.

Copyright © 2025 Debbie Diamond.

ISBN: 978-1836546405

Written by Debbie Diamond.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Pirates Treasure

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

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For Archie

You are my muse

Chapter 1

I stared at the starry sky wistfully. Compared to the vastness of the very heavens themselves, my troubles seemed so small, so trivial, and so insignificant. Yet they were my troubles and thus commanded at least some small measure of attention. Even here, beneath the heavens that so gloriously reminded me of my true stature, the sea breezes tugged at my hair, driving the reluctant ship forward. The winds mirrored the currents of destiny, carrying me ever closer to my fate.

"You should not be up at this hour, Ma’am," a soft, scolding voice said behind me.

I sighed and turned to my handmaiden. 'I do not expect to have much time for my thoughts when we reach Italy, Marie. Grant me some time to find peace while I can still call my life my own."

Marie frowned deeply. "If I know you, you're not thinking, so much as brooding. We all have our lot in life, at least your lot will be spent in a gilded cage."

"Is a gilded cage ever so much better, Marie?" I sighed deeply. "Would it surprise you to know how much I envy you?"

Marie laughed mockingly. "Envy? Me? You've gone mad from all that thinking," she said. Then, remembering herself, added, "Ma’am."

“But it's true! No one tells you whom to marry, where to go, what to do." Marie laughed again. "Ma’am, you forget I am but a mere servant. Everyone tells me where to go and what to do. I've been bonded to your house since my birth and will be until I die. No man was forced upon me, but none was offered. There are times at night, alone in my bed, that I regret that. No Ma’am, I'm free only in your imagination. Now come. Stop worrying about what you cannot change and come to bed."

I bowed my head in defeat. "At least, in our dreams we are free."

“Yes," Marie agreed, "and that is the worst thing of all."

"It wouldn't be so bad if Lord Canelli wasn't so old. And I’ve heard he is really ugly and smelly. I mean, honestly. Can you picture us together on our wedding night?”

“It does seem humorous, Ma’am.” Marie's voice softened, and she stepped closer, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "But you must face what's ahead with courage. You're stronger than you think, Julia."

I sighed, turning my gaze back to the sea, the moonlight dancing on the waves. “If I am lucky, he will die quickly, and I can pick someone better suited.” The words felt bitter on my tongue, yet, there was a twisted comfort in the thought. Perhaps fate would be kind and spare me a lifetime of misery.

Marie clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “That’s a wicked thing to say, Ma’am. But I understand your meaning.” She stepped closer, her breath misting in the cool night air. “There is that to look forward to, Ma’am. But really, you must come to bed. You'll catch your death in this air.”

The wind, a icy blade, sliced through my dress, chilling me to the bone. Yet, the cold was a welcome distraction from the heat of my anger and despair. I hugged my arms around myself, rubbing my hands over my skin to ward off the shiver that threatened to overtake me.

“Just a few more moments, Marie,” I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. The sea called to me, its endless expanse a promise of freedom that I craved with every fibre of my being. I wanted to lose myself in its depths, to be swallowed whole and emerge reborn, free from the shackles of my existence.

The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the faint aroma of lavender from Marie's clothes. The ship creaked gently beneath us, a soothing lullaby that seemed to mock the turmoil within me.

"I wish I could believe that, Marie," I whispered, feeling the weight of my future pressing down on me. "I wish I could believe that I'm strong enough to face whatever comes next."

Marie reached out and took my hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "You are, Julia. You've always been stronger than you give yourself credit for. And remember, no matter what happens, you're not alone. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Her words brought a small smile to my lips, and I squeezed her hand in gratitude. "Thank you, Marie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled back, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "You'd find a way, Julia. You always do. Now come, let's get you to bed. Tomorrow is a new day, and who knows what adventures it might bring?"

As we walked back to my cabin, the stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, their light guiding us through the darkness. And for a moment, just a moment, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a glimmer of hope in the vast expanse of the unknown.

I pulled away from the rail and followed Marie across the wooden deck to our cabin. The cabin was tiny, barely large enough for the two small cots it housed. The only luxuries were a small oil lamp and a secure iron bolt, both of which the Lord had insisted on before paying for our passage. Marie secured the bolt firmly before she turned to me and began to unlace the back of my dress.

The dress pooled at my feet as I took a step forward for Marie to collect it. Taking off my undergarments and corset was nearly as tedious as the time spent putting them on each morning.

"Ahhh!" I sighed as the restrictive corset fell free. "This is true freedom, Marie. I have not the words to say how I truly despise that creation."

“Yes, Ma’am." Marie agreed without hearing. Gloriously nude, save for a heavy bronze belt around my waist, I turned to face Marie, the smooth supple skin of my back giving way to the soft fleshy curves of my front. "And this, this is the worst thing of all," I said, referring to my chastity belt.

"Yes Ma’am." Marie agreed again as she fished an iron key out of her pocket.

"I should one day like to meet the man who invented this torture device and send him to hell where he belongs," I grumbled as I used the nearby chamber pot.

Marie agreed a third time as she prepared the wash. Water was a precious commodity onboard ship, so there were no baths. We very much doubted the crew would use them even if they were plentiful. Still, I was a Lady and Ladies should always be presentable. The captain might have grumbled at the bucket of water each night but the journey from England to Italy was not unnecessarily harsh and he was in no great danger of running out for the use of a few buckets.

"I felt as if I would burst!" I said as I sat on the stool in the hip bath.

"It must be uncomfortable, Ma’am," Marie said as she ran the wet sponge down my arm.

"Very," I said, but without force. I closed my eyes, letting my head fall slightly back as Marie ran the sponge across my skin. At home, on the estate, I would be in a large tub of warm water as Marie washed me. Somehow, now this seemed more intimate, more personal. Marie finished my back and reached around to wash my chest, then my breasts. As the soapy sponge touched my nipples, they hardened, instantly erect. The sponge was soon replaced with a warm hand as Marie worked the soapy water around my nipples, sending tingles of pleasure through me.

My breath became expectant as Marie retrieved the sponge and worked her way slowly down, down to the place. “Our place.” The place, that thanks to the infernal belt, only Marie could touch.

The sponge parted me, working through my folds and crevasses. As before, the sponge was discarded for hands as Marie worked my flesh. Every touch, every caress was a gift from the heavens, and my breath deepened as it always did. There was always one spot, one very special spot that Marie took special care of, and her slick fingers now sought out that spot, pressing, caressing, in an endless wave of pleasure.

I leaned back into Marie, a low soft moan escaping from my lips.

The moan evoked a memory, and from the comfort of my pleasure, I said, "I heard you last night. Moaning in your sleep as I am now. Since I was a young lady you have done this for me. It does not seem fair that I do not return the favour." Marie's touches slowed but did not stop.  “Do you enjoy this Marie?" This time Marie did pause, but only briefly, before continuing her massage.  "It is a pleasant duty, Ma’am.”

“Would I not also find it pleasant? To touch you as you touch me?”

“You should not speak of such things, Ma’am.  Just relax and be content for a while.”

“I could order you..." I started but let the thought drift as the pleasure built to a higher level.  It was difficult to carry on a conversation like this! "You could.  A servant's body is not her own.  This is one of my earliest memories.  I beg you though, do not.  This is something special between us." I remained silent, now far too gone in her pleasure to speak further.  Marie continued to massage my swollen clitoris, her deft, well-practised fingers retracing well-travelled paths.  My back arched, as I pressed further back into Marie, my hips rising into Marie's fingers.

The orgasm was silent, as my body shuddered in Marie's arms.  The only betrayals of my pleasure were the ragged gasps and ever-so-soft whimpers.  "There," Marie said with a satisfied smile as I relaxed in her arms.  "Now the beast is tamed for a while longer and you'll be fresh and ready to greet a new day tomorrow," she said as she retrieved the sponge and wiped away the evidence of my pleasure. I donned the nightgown draped over my cot and slipped beneath the covers.  "Beast?" I enquired.  "Yes Ma'am, there is a beast deep down in all woman that must be quieted, lest it rise to the surface."  "Oh no, I'm sure not every woman has one Marie, I certainly don’t" I scoffed. Little did I know, I was going to meet mine soon enough.

"Marie," I called softy. She looked at me, her eyes soft in the dim light of the oil lamp. "Yes, Ma’am?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I reached out, my hand touching her cheek. Her skin was warm and smooth. "You're more than just a servant to me, Marie," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "You're my friend. My confidante."

Marie smiled a small, sad smile. "And you are more than just a mistress to me, Ma’am," she replied. "But we must be careful. The world is not kind to those who step out of their place. Moments we have is enough for me."

I felt a pang of guilt. Here I was, luxuriating in pleasure, while Marie had to content herself with mere duty. It didn't seem fair. It didn't seem right. I wanted to give her something, anything, to show her that she was more to me than just a servant.

As we lay in our cots, my body still tingling from Marie's touch, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The oil lamp was casting long, dancing shadows on the wooden walls. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, mingling with the faint smell of the sea. I could hear the muffled sounds of the crew above, the creaking of the ship, the distant murmur of the ocean. But down here, in this tiny cabin, it was just Marie and I, our world reduced to this small, intimate space.

"Marie," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I turned to look at her, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp. Her eyes were downcast, her expression unreadable. "Do you truly mean that? What we have is enough for you?"

She looked up at me then, her eyes meeting mine. There was a sadness there, a resignation that made my heart ache. "It has to be, Ma’am," she said softly. "We cannot change our lot in life. We must make do with what we have."

I reached out, my hand cupping her cheek. Her skin was soft beneath my touch. "But what if we could change it, Marie?" I said, my voice filled with a longing I couldn't hide. "What if we could be free, truly free, to do as we please, to love whom we choose?"

Marie's eyes widened, a flicker of fear crossing her face. "You mustn't talk like that, Ma’am," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's dangerous. People have been punished for less."

I felt a surge of anger, of rebellion. "I don't care," I said, my voice rising. "I won't be sold off like some prized cow, forced to live a life I don't want. I won't, Marie. I won't do it."

Marie's hand covered mine, her grip firm. "Hush, Ma’am," she said, her voice soothing. "You're upset. It's been a long journey, a trying time. Things will look better in the morning, you'll see."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions within me. Marie was right, of course. She was always right. But that didn't make it any easier to accept. I turned away from her, my eyes scanning the cabin, looking for something, anything, to distract me from my thoughts.

My gaze fell upon the chastity belt, the iron contraption that symbolized my imprisonment, my lack of control over my own body. I felt a shudder of revulsion run through me. "I hate that thing," I said, my voice filled with loathing. "I hate what it represents, what it does to me."

Marie sighed, "I know, Ma’am," she said softly. "But it's only for a little while longer. Soon, this will all be over, and you'll be a married woman, with a new life ahead of you."

A new life. The words echoed in my mind, hollow and empty. A new life, bound to a man I didn't love, a man who saw me as nothing more than a possession, a means to an end. I felt a wave of despair wash over me, threatening to pull me under.

But then, I felt Marie's arms around me, her body warm and comforting against mine. I leaned into her, drawing strength from her presence, her touch. I wouldn't give in to despair, not yet. I still had time, still had hope. And I had Marie, my rock, my sanctuary in this storm of uncertainty.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. Whatever the future held, I would face it with courage, with determination. I would not go down without a fight. And who knew? Perhaps, just perhaps, I could find a way to change my fate, to forge a new path, a new life for myself. A life where I was free, truly free, to be who I wanted to be, to love whom I chose.

But for now, I would take what comfort I could in Marie's friendship, in the knowledge that, no matter what happened, I was not alone. I had Marie, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

Chapter 2

I awoke to the harsh shouts of men, the usual murmur of the sea replaced by a tension that seeped through the very walls of our cabin. Marie stirred alongside me, her eyes fluttering open, reflecting the same confusion that I felt. We quickly dressed, our fingers fumbling with the laces of our gowns, eager to understand the cause of the commotion.

As we stepped onto the deck, the sun greeted us, already high in the sky, casting a bright glare over the scene. The deck, usually a bustling hive of activity, hummed with a different energy that morning. The men moved with a grim purpose, their usual chatter replaced by terse commands. The sails billowed above us, snapping taut in the wind as if they too sensed the urgency.

The portly captain of The Rose, spotted us and rushed over, his face flushed and sweaty. "Ladies! I must insist that you return to your quarters at once and remain there until you are called!" His voice was firm, but I could hear the undercurrent of nervousness.

"What is going on?" I asked, my heart beginning to pound in my chest. The captain's nervousness was contagious, and I could feel my own anxiety rising.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, urgent tone. "A ship has appeared on the horizon and has declared her colours black."

"Black?" I repeated, not understanding the significance. The captain's face folded into a worried frown, his brow furrowing deeply.

"Pirates," he said, the word hanging heavy in the air between us. Terror, cold and swift, weakened my knees, sending my stomach plummeting. The deck seemed to sway beneath me, and it was not just the motion of the ship.

"Oh dear!" The words escaped my lips like a secret, barely audible. Marie's hand found mine, her grip tight and reassuring. I looked at her, seeing my own fear reflected in her eyes.

The captain, noticing my distress, tried to offer some comfort. "Fear not, Milady. This is a good ship and a good crew. We shall see you safely to Italy. But you must return to your cabin now. It will not be safe on deck!"

I nodded, unable to find words. Marie and I turned, our steps hurried as we made our way back to the cabin. The door closed behind us with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. Marie pushed the metal bolt across to lock the door.  The small space, once a sanctuary, now felt like a trap.

Marie moved to the porthole, peering out at the horizon. I could see the ship now, a dark speck against the brilliant blue of the sea. It seemed to grow larger with each passing moment, a menacing shadow creeping closer.

"Marie," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "What will we do?"

She turned to me, her face a mask of determination. "We will do as the captain says, my lady. We will stay here, and we will pray."

I nodded, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. The cabin seemed to close in around us, the air thick with the scent of salt and fear. Outside, the crew's shouts grew louder and more urgent. The ship groaned and creaked as if straining against the inevitable.

And so, we waited, our hearts pounding in time with the relentless march of the pirate ship, drawing ever closer.

I sat on the cot, my heart pounding in my chest, as the sounds of steel clashing against steel echoed through the ship.". Each ring sent a shiver down my spine, a grim reminder of the life-and-death struggle happening just beyond our cabin door. Marie clung to me, her fingers digging into my arm, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I could feel her terror, a mirror of my own.

The morning had stretched into an eternity of waiting, the silence broken only by the distant shouts of men and the occasional thunderous crash that shook the very bones of the ship. Now, the sounds of battle filled the air, rising and falling in a horrifying symphony. I could almost see the men, their faces contorted with effort and fear, fighting for their lives.

The cabin, once a refuge, had become a cage. Salt and sweat thickened the air, pressing down on me like a physical weight. I could taste the fear in the air, a metallic tang that coated my tongue. Each breath was a struggle, each moment a battle against the rising panic.

The sounds of battle began to fade, growing sporadic and disjointed. The shouts of men turned to cries of pain and triumph, the ringing of steel replaced by the groans of the wounded. I strained to listen, my heart in my throat, trying to decipher the outcome. Had our crew triumphed, or were we now at the mercy of pirates?

The sudden banging on the door made me jump, a cry escaping my lips before I could stifle it. "Open up!" a gruff voice demanded. "Open up, I say, or I'll break it down!"

I looked at Marie, her eyes wide with fear. "He has an English accent," I whispered, a spark of hope igniting in my chest. "Maybe it's one of the crew."

Marie nodded, her hands trembling as she reached for the bolt. I rose to my feet, my legs shaking beneath me, as she slid the bolt back and opened the door.

I stood there, frozen, as the ugliest man I'd ever seen leered at Marie and I. His face was a roadmap of scars, each one a testament to a life lived hard. His grin, if you could call it that, was a grotesque display of rotting and missing teeth. I felt a shudder of revulsion run through me, but I was too terrified to look away.

"In here, Cap'n!" he bellowed over his shoulder, his voice like gravel. He stepped aside, and that's when I saw him—the man who would change the course of my life forever.

At first, relief washed over me. He didn't look like a pirate, not like the ones I'd heard about in stories. He was tall, impossibly so, with broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist. His skin was golden, kissed by the sun, and his muscles were taut and well-defined. His waistcoat was open, revealing a powerful chest marred only by a fresh, angry red cut that still wept blood.

My eyes travelled up to his face, and I felt a jolt of surprise. His jaw was strong and smooth, shaven clean, and his hair was long and black, cascading down his back like a dark waterfall. But it was his eyes that held me captive—sea-blue and piercing, they seemed to see right through me.

"Lady Julia," he said, his voice a deep rumble with a Spanish lilt. "I am Captain Antonio Del La Mar, and you, madam, are my prisoner."

His words hit me like a physical blow. Prisoner. The word echoed in my mind, and suddenly, the world spun around me. Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision, and I felt myself falling, falling, falling...

When I came to, I was being carried. The man holding me was not Captain Antonio but one of his crew. He smelled of sweat and salt, his arms rough and calloused from years of hard labour. I could feel the gentle sway of the ship beneath us, the creak of the wood, the distant shouts of men.

"Put me down," I murmured, but my voice was weak, and he didn't seem to hear me. I looked up and saw Marie, her face pale and tear-streaked. She was being held back by another crewman, her arms outstretched as if she could reach me.

"Julia!" she cried, her voice filled with despair. I tried to call out to her, to tell her it would be all right, but the darkness was pulling me under again. The last thing I heard was Captain Antonio's voice, firm and commanding.

"See to it she's brought safely to my cabin," he said. "And not one hand where it should not be, or you'll swim back to port."

"Aye-Aye, Cap'n," the seaman muttered. "And her?" he asked, pointing at Marie.

"She's worthless to us. Leave her here." There was a pause, and I could almost feel the captain's gaze on Marie. "Inform the crew that when this ship reaches port, she's to be put ashore safely, and I expect her to be well treated."

And with that, I was carried away, leaving Marie behind, her cries echoing in my ears. The world went dark again, and I knew nothing more.

Chapter 3

As I sat up, the room began to spin, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I reached out to steady myself, my hand grasping for the wooden frame of the bed. The captain's words echoed in my mind, each one a reminder of my captivity. I forced myself to focus on my surroundings, taking in the unfamiliar room.

The quarters were smaller than I had expected, with a single porthole that offered a glimpse of the endless blue beyond. The wooden panels were worn and weathered, creaking softly as the ship rocked gently. A small desk sat in the corner, covered in maps and navigational instruments. Against one wall, a large chest overflowed with clothing and personal belongings.

I turned my attention to Captain Antonio, who stood before me, his piercing blue eyes fixed on mine. His facial expression was unreadable, a mask of indifference that belied the intensity of his gaze. I swallowed hard, trying to push aside the fear that threatened to overwhelm me.

"Why have you taken me?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "Where is Marie?"

Captain Antonio's expression remained impassive, but a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "I've taken you for ransom," he replied, his deep voice low and smooth. "Your dowry on the ship made a nice down payment, but your father is a wealthy man, and your marriage will enhance his power. I believe he will pay generously for your return."

I felt a surge of indignation at his words, but I bit back my retort. I needed to keep him talking, to find a way out of this predicament. "I asked you about Marie my maidservant?" I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Captain Antonio nodded, his dark hair falling across his forehead. "This is not a passenger ship. I'll put up with one woman who will make me money, but I'll not put up with two."

I felt a pang of worry for Marie, but I pushed it aside, focusing on my own situation. "Then your intentions are honourable?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.

Captain Antonio laughed, the sound rich and full-bodied. Despite myself, I felt a smile twitch at the corners of my mouth. "There is honour in looting and pillaging, Lady Julia," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But you need not fear for your virtue. I will not have by force what I can have freely given."

A cold hand traced a path down my spine at his words, but I refused to be intimidated. "Is this to be my cell, then?" I asked, straightening my dress and trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

Captain Antonio nodded, his expression still unreadable. "Yes, unless you would prefer to bunk with my men. But do not worry, there will be no need for shackles."

I stared at him, my mouth agape, struggling to comprehend the audacity of his words. The very idea of sharing such intimate quarters with this... this pirate was unthinkable. Yet, here he stood, casually informing me that this was precisely what would happen. I felt a flush of indignation rise to my cheeks, my heart pounding in my chest.

"You cannot be serious," I managed to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. My mind raced, trying to grasp the implications of his words. The thought of sleeping in the same room as this man, this stranger, was both terrifying and oddly exhilarating. I pushed the latter feeling aside, focusing on the outrage that coursed through my veins.

Captain Antonio merely shrugged, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "I am quite serious, Lady Julia," he replied, his voice calm and measured. "This is my ship, and these are my quarters. I will not be displaced for anyone, not even a lady of your standing."

I huffed angrily, folding my arms across my chest in a vain attempt to regain some semblance of control. "This is not at all proper!" I exclaimed, my voice rising with each word. "I am engaged to be married!"

He chuckled lightly, the sound grating on my nerves. "Ah yes, Lord Canelli," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "A mousy little man, I believe. You will dislike him at first sight and definitely at first smell."

I bristled at his words, my outrage momentarily overshadowed by a surge of curiosity. How did he know so much about me and my intended? And why did his words ring with such truth? I pushed the thoughts aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

"This is absurd," I declared, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. "I demand separate quarters. I will not share a room with you."

Captain Antonio's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. I could smell the salt of the sea on him, the faint scent of sweat and leather. The scent of salt and leather, a dangerous cocktail, stirred something deep within me, despite my attempts at indifference.

"You are in no position to make demands, Lady Julia," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You are my captive, and you will abide by my rules. This is my cabin, and I will sleep here. You may choose the cot or the floor, but you will not displace me from my own bed."

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. The reality of my situation was beginning to sink in, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a physical force. I was his captive, his prisoner. And for now, at least, I was at his mercy. The thought sent a shiver of fear coursing through my veins, but beneath it, there was something else. Something darker, more primal. Something I dared not name.

"Proper or not, this is the only place fit to store a lady of your station and rank. If people ask about it later on, lie."

"Lie?" I asked as if the thought would never occur to me.

"Tell them how you had your own room and were treated with the utmost respect and courtesy, why it was almost like being home! Or tell them how you were savaged by the men. How your beauty lit the fire of lust that drove those awful pirates to take your virtue." Antonio chuckled at this. "Depending on the company you are in, of course."

"You sir, are no gentleman!" I said angrily.

"You're right," Antonio said with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm a pirate." I was about to say more when there was a knock at the door.

"That would be dinner. I expect you'll find the food here more palatable than on your last ship. I find loyalty is more easily bought at sea with warm food than with cold coin. Come!" Several men appeared, and after briefly glancing at me, hurried to set the table. As the meal became visible, I did indeed have to admit that it looked far more appetising than the fare aboard "The Rose."

I took my seat, the polished wood cool against my thighs, and looked up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "You seem to know much about me." The words came out more calmly than I felt. "First my name, then my fiancé."

Captain Antonio leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing on his lips. "We do not roam the seas by chance alone, Lady Julia," he said, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. "I have a lover in the English court who loves to chatter about the gossip of the day as she lays in my bed."

His casual vulgarity sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of disgust and something else—something darker that I couldn't quite place. I was resolved not to take the bait, not to let him see how his words affected me. He might look impressive, with his broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes, but every word that dropped from his mouth proved he was not my equal. I clung to that thought, using it as a shield against the unsettling emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

I suddenly felt grateful for his vulgarity, grateful because it reminded me that he was beneath me. Grateful because otherwise, I might have been tempted to see him as something more than a common pirate. The thought was fleeting, but it left a lingering warmth in my chest that I couldn't quite shake off.

The room was filled with the scent of the sea, a salty tang that clung to everything, including him. It was a wild, untamed smell, so different from the perfumed air of the court. I found it oddly intoxicating, a reminder of the freedom that I craved, the freedom that this man represented, despite his crude words and rough manners.

I looked down at the table, trying to gather my thoughts, to regain some semblance of control. The food looked delicious, a far cry from the meagre rations I had been expecting. The sight of it made my stomach rumble, reminding me that I hadn't eaten properly in days.

As I reached for a piece of bread, I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move. It was unnerving, the intensity of his gaze, but there was something else there too—a hunger that matched my own, a desire that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through my veins.

I tore off a piece of bread, the crust crunching satisfyingly between my teeth. The taste was heavenly, a burst of flavour that made me realize just how hungry I was. I tried to eat slowly, to savour each bite, but it was difficult with him watching me like that, his eyes never leaving my face.

I could feel the tension in the room, the air thick with unspoken words and hidden desires. It was a dangerous game we were playing, a dance on the edge of a precipice. One wrong step and I could fall, tumbling into the unknown, into a world of passion and danger that I had only ever heard of.

But for now, I was safe, protected by the walls of propriety and the knowledge that, no matter what happened, I was still Lady Julia Canarvon, engaged to be married and far above the likes of a common pirate. Or so I told myself, as I took another bite of bread, trying to ignore the heat in his eyes and the pounding of my own heart.

I let the matter drop, disturbed at where the thought was taking me. "And you have never been caught?"

Antonio laughed, a rich, throaty sound that filled the cabin. "Obviously not! A privateer's reward for being caught is the hangman's noose."

His nonchalance sent a shiver down my spine. The danger he faced was real, yet he spoke of it as if it were a mere trifle. I couldn't help but be drawn to his fearlessness, even as it frightened me. "If it is so dangerous, why do you persist?"

Antonio considered me for a moment, his blue eyes searching mine as if deciding how to answer. "It's not the money," he said finally, his voice low and intense. "I've more coin now than half the lords of your land. Nor even the charming company of the lady I intend to ransom."

His words sent a strange thrill through me, a mix of fear and excitement. I was the lady he intended to ransom, yet here he was, speaking of me as if I were a prize to be won. I should have been outraged, but instead, I found myself drawn to him, to the danger and the freedom he stood for.

"I love the sea," he continued, his voice taking on a distant, almost dreamy quality. "I love the freedom of setting a course and going where I wish."

Suddenly, I became afraid all over again, because wrapped up in a very attractive package was a man who had everything I had ever dreamed of. Freedom, adventure, a life unbound by the strictures of society. It was intoxicating, and I found myself leaning in, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

I could smell the sea on him, a wild, untamed scent that filled my nostrils and made my heart pound. His eyes were like the ocean, deep and fathomless, and I found myself drowning in them, lost in their depths. I could feel the heat of his body, the raw, masculine power that radiated from him like a furnace. It was overwhelming, and I found myself struggling to breathe, to think, to do anything but feel.

His words echoed in my mind, a siren song that called to the deepest, most hidden parts of me. I love the sea. I love the freedom. It was a call to adventure, to a life unbound, and I found myself yearning for it, yearning for him, with an intensity that scared me.

I pulled back, breaking the spell that had held me captive. I couldn't let myself be drawn in, couldn't let myself be swept away by the promise of freedom and adventure. I was engaged to be married, and I had duties, responsibilities, and expectations to uphold.

But even as I reminded myself of who I was, of who I was supposed to be, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, that something had shifted deep within me. As I looked into Antonio's eyes, I knew that I was playing with fire, and that I was one step closer to being consumed by the flames.

I sat there, the silence between us stretching out like the vast ocean outside the cabin. Antonio seemed at ease with the quiet, his blue eyes reflecting the dance of the candlelight. I, however, was a storm of thoughts and emotions. I tried to cling to the fact that this man had abducted me, that he was a pirate, a criminal. I tried to remind myself that I should hate him, fear him. But with each passing moment, that certainty was slipping away, replaced by a growing curiosity and, God help me, a spark of attraction.

The meal ended, and Antonio stood, his chair scraping against the wooden floor. He offered me a small bow, a gesture that seemed almost comically polite given the circumstances. "I'll give you some privacy, my lady," he said, and then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. Alone, I could think, could process the whirlwind of the day. But first, I needed to tend to more pressing matters. I looked around the cabin, my eyes landing on the washbasin and the chamber pot tucked discreetly in the corner. I was grateful for the chance to freshen up, but as I began to lift my skirts, I remembered the chastity belt.

A flush of embarrassment washed over me. I had been grateful for the thing at first, a barrier between me and the pirate. But now, faced with the practicalities of the situation, I felt a wave of dismay. How was I supposed to manage this infernal contraption? Marie had the key, and God only knew where she was now.

I fumbled with the belt, my fingers tracing the cool metal. It was a cruel joke, a reminder of my status as a possession, a pawn in the games of men. I felt a surge of anger, hot and fierce. I was Lady Julia Canarvon, not some prize to be won or traded. I was a person, with thoughts, feelings, and needs.

But anger would get me nowhere. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I needed to think, to plan. I couldn't let myself be swept away by emotions, by the storm of attraction and fear and curiosity that Antonio stirred up within me. I needed to be smart, to be strong. I needed to survive.

I splashed water on my face, the cool liquid grounding me, bringing me back to the present. I could figure out the belt later. For now, I needed to focus on what was important: finding a way out of this mess, finding a way back to freedom.

But even as I thought of escape, my mind wandered back to Antonio. To the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, to the passion in his voice when he spoke of the sea. To the spark that ignited between us, a spark that I couldn't deny, no matter how hard I tried.

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts. I couldn't afford to be distracted, not now. I needed to stay focused, to stay sharp. I needed to remember who I was, and who he was. I needed to remember that this was not a game, not a romance. This was my life, and I would fight to keep it.

After my ablutions, I sat on the edge of the cot, my body aching from the discomfort of the chastity belt. The air was thick with the scent of rum, a constant reminder of where I was, of who I was with.

Antonio had kept his word, having a cot brought in for me. It was a far cry from the luxurious bed I was used to, but it was better than nothing. I could feel the rough fabric beneath my fingers, the lumps and bumps pressing into my back as I lay down. But I was too tired, too emotionally drained to care.

I closed my eyes, the events of the day playing out behind my eyelids like a twisted play. The attack on the ship, the fear, the chaos. And then Antonio, his blue eyes piercing through the smoke and the screams. His hands on my waist as he pulled me close, his voice in my ear, a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

I tossed and turned, the cot creaking beneath me. The room was too hot, the air too thick. I could feel the sweat gathering at the nape of my neck, trickling down my back. I kicked off the blankets, the cool air a relief on my skin.

But the relief was short-lived. My mind was a whirlwind, a storm of thoughts and emotions that I couldn't control. I thought of Marie, of her kind eyes and her soft smile. I wondered where she was, if she was safe. I thought of Lord Canelli, of legendary smell and podgy body. I shuddered, the thought of him sending a wave of revulsion through me.

And then there was Antonio. Always Antonio. His laughter, his smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he teased me. The way he made me feel, the way he made my heart race and my body ache. I could still feel his touch, his fingers trailing down my arm, his lips brushing against my ear.

I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. It smelled of him, of salt and rum and something uniquely Antonio. I breathed in deep, the scent filling my lungs, my mind, my soul. I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, the lump forming in my throat.

I was so confused, so torn. I should hate him, should fear him. He was a pirate, a criminal, a man who had taken me against my will. But I couldn't deny the spark, the connection, the pull that I felt towards him. It was like a force of nature, a storm that I couldn't control, couldn't resist.

I drifted off to sleep, my dreams a twisted mix of fear and desire, of storms and seas, of blue eyes and soft smiles. I was lost, adrift in a sea of emotions, of sensations, of needs. And as I slept, I dreamt of him, of Antonio, of his touch, his smile, his love.

Chapter 4

I woke up with the deck lurching beneath me, a violent, nauseating motion that sent my stomach churning. The cabin was dark, the only light coming from the intermittent flashes of lightning that illuminated the room in stark, haunting bursts. Thunder boomed in the distance, a deep, ominous rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the ship.

Antonio was gone.  No doubt he had left to take command of his ship, to guide her through the storm. I was alone, adrift in a sea of darkness and chaos.

A sense of wrongness flooded my awareness, a gnawing, insidious feeling that something was not right. My body ached, my muscles sore and tense. Pain, a dull throb, echoed the storm's rhythm in my skull. I felt ill, much as I had during the first few days aboard The Rose. But this was different, this was worse. This was a sickness that seemed to seep into my very bones, a misery that made death itself seem preferable.

The ship lurched again, a violent, jarring motion that sent me tumbling from the cot. I hit the floor hard, the impact sending a jolt of pain through my body. I lay there for a moment, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps, my heart pounding in my chest. The room spun around me, a whirl of darkness and light, of shadow and storm.

I tried to stand, my hands grasping at the edge of the cot, my fingers digging into the rough fabric. But my body betrayed me, my legs buckling beneath me as another wave of nausea hit. I collapsed back onto the floor, my body wracked with shivers, my skin slick with sweat.

I could hear the storm outside, the howling wind, the crashing waves, the groaning of the ship as it fought against the sea. It was a symphony of chaos, a cacophony of sound that seemed to echo the turmoil within me. I could feel the fear rising, a cold, creeping terror that seemed to seep into my very soul.

I tried to call out, to scream for help, for Antonio. But my voice was lost in the storm, a weak, pathetic cry that was swallowed by the wind and the waves. I was alone, adrift in a sea of darkness, of pain, of fear.

And then, mercifully, the darkness took me. I slid into a fevered sleep, a fitful, restless slumber filled with dreams of storms and seas, of blue eyes and soft smiles. I dreamt of Antonio, of his touch, his laughter. And in my dreams, I was not afraid. In my dreams, I was free.

When I woke again, the floor was at least steady, though I felt terribly weak. The cabin was dimly lit, the faint glow of a lantern casting long, dancing shadows across the room. I lay there, my body heavy and aching, my mind a fog of confusion and fear.