Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Fifteen

Flinching, I tried to remind myself the sounds above were only the crew moving things around, not more cannon fire come to destroy us. With Tristan gone, there was a nervousness that flooded me, an agitation that pricked over my skin as my ears strained to hear what was happening. As far as I knew, we hadn't been cut loose from the other ship yet and the looting was still going on.

I'd finished changing, choosing the blue dress with the corset that tied in front, and was now seated at the desk, eyes closed. It seemed so strange, I had no part in the actual battle that happened and was so affected by it. It was like every single cell in my body was acutely tuned to the space around me. Was I safe? Would I remain safe as time went on? Was there somewhere else to hide if I needed to?

Among all of the thoughts that dealt with this time period, I was also painfully aware of how much I wished to be home. In the weeks I'd been at sea, I'd not come to terms with the fact that I had no idea what happened to me. Was I ever going to make it back to the island, let alone my own time? If I didn't know how I'd gotten here, how was I going to get back? Were the vault and Treasure Pit even there, or had they not been built yet?

Then there was Tristan. It felt stupid, thinking that maybe we'd found each other for a reason. Sure, he'd been protecting me for whatever purpose, and I'd thought he was going to kiss me on more than one occasion, but that didn't have to mean anything. He was a pirate. They were notorious womanizers, bloodthirsty brutes, and greedy men. Where was there any proof that he wasn't any of those? He'd told me he was a thief trying to get back at an entire country. He'd just laid waste to a whole ship for its cargo. The very first day we'd met, he told me he knew how to undress a woman. I didn't know why that bothered me so much, but it did. I couldn't think about anyone in his arms without grinding my teeth together. But leaving him behind felt like a terrible thing to do, even though I hardly knew him beyond those issues.

Maybe I'd imagined our moments, made up the thoughts that, perhaps, he liked me. He was a handsome man, it wouldn't be the first time I'd daydreamed about being carried off romantically. In college, I'd acted like a schoolgirl, doodling my name paired with the teacher's assistant in my history class. There hadn't been anything there on his end. This was just like that, I was sure of it.

It was several hours before I was pulled out of my musings by a knock on the door. When Tristan entered with a plate of food, I couldn't help the smile on my face.

"It sounds like a party out there," I commented. Once we'd abandoned the other ship, the men had instantly started singing, some of them playing instruments, others clapping along. By now, I was sure they were all stinking drunk with glee and whiskey.

"Aye, they're telling stories to each other." Tristan chuckled, setting the platter on the desk in front of me and seating himself on the bed. "The half of which are in no way true."

There was a loud bang outside as something fell and I jumped, still disturbed by the earlier actions of the day.

"Are ye all right, lassie?" Glancing at me in concern, he didn't press further when I merely nodded. "Here, then." He pointed to the dish, which was holding some bread and porridge. Having long run out of fresh fruit and meat with a crew this size, I wasn't surprised to see staples that traveled well and were easily made on board. "It's not much, but I did manage to snag us some of the whiskey." Pulling the bottle out of his jacket, he grinned deviously and placed it on the table.

"Thank you," I mumbled, trying to calm myself again, wringing my hands in my lap.

"Have some, Sam," he said gently. "It'll help with the nerves. Ye've never been part of any fight, have ye?"