Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Ten

"Is he dead?"

"It's not a he, you dolt! Can't ya see her breasts?"

"I've never seen a lady in trousers before, savvy? What do ye reckon? Is she a castaway?"

"If she is, she's shark bait, for sure. See the cut on her leg?"

"Aye, her legs are about all I can look at, besides her bosom!"

My head was pounding and it felt like I was about to vomit everything I'd ever eaten in my life. But even through the pain haze, the tone of the men's voices was setting off alarms in my mind. I wasn't safe, not around them at least.

"What's amiss over here? Why aren't you scallywags on board yet?"

"It's O'Rourke," one of the men close to me muttered. "Leave it to the Old Salt to spoil our fun. Imagine if she's a whore? Wouldn't that be lucky?"

"Doesn't matter if she's a whore or not, I'll take her to my bed!"

The men hooted with laughter and I decided I'd played dead long enough.

"You'll take me to bed if you want to lose an appendage!" I growled, rolling over and stumbling to my feet.

"Blow me down!" the man closest to me exclaimed, skittering away.

Reeling, I grabbed my head with one hand and my injured leg with the other. Standing had not been the best plan. I couldn't run away even if I wanted. Everything around me was spinning out of control as I tried to stagger away from the group.

"Ha! The lassie's three sheets to the wind," one of the men snorted.

"What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion, feeling like rolling over and dying in that moment. My thoughts felt muddied as I tried to remember the last thing I'd been doing.

"I asked what's going on over here?"

Vaguely, I was aware of another man joining the group, but I was too preoccupied with keeping my feet and clearing my vision to try and see all of them just yet.

"We found the woman passed out on the shore, Quartermaster. We didn't—ah—quite know what to do with her."

"Oh, aye? I know ye lot, and ye know that I don't stand for rape among the crew. Now leave the lass be!"

The man's voice was gruff and had an accent that I couldn't place at the moment, but it was obvious that he carried the authority over the other men.

"Aye," came the mumbled responses.

Unable to keep it together anymore, I fell to the ground—which was sand, I suddenly noticed— and cradled my face in both hands.

"Are you okay, mistress?"

It was the authoritative man, his voice soft and much nearer to me than before.

"Uh," I choked out. "I think so. My head hurts pretty bad. And my leg."

"Aye, you've a nasty cut. Do ye mind tellin' me what happened to ye?"

"I think . . . I drowned," I answered truthfully. Slowly, memories began coming back to me, of water choking the life out of me, of being swept along an underground tunnel that led from the pit to the sea. I'd lost consciousness before making it out, but, apparently, I'd made it out alive.

Gingerly, I raised my head, blinking several times in the bright sunlight. As everything cleared, I took in the sounds of waves on the shore, the breeze brushing past me, and a marine smell. My vision cleared after a moment longer and I saw the ocean in front of me, the sandy beach flowing seamlessly into it, and a giant ship anchored not far off, sails pulled in, along with a rowboat making its way to her hull.