Captive on the High Seas. Christina Rich

eyes widened, and he smiled. “It is as I thought, but how?”

      A wave sloshed over the boat. Spray rained down upon them. Her pallor did not look well as his ship rocked back and forth. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her gaze darted around. “Ah, you do not like the sea.”

      She bent over, an arm clutched at her stomach.

      “Come along, then.” He lifted her into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. Her slight frame nestled perfectly against him, when she wasn’t pushing her palms against his chest. That part of him that had been cold for so many months began to beat, to breathe and to hope for a better future than the one he’d resigned himself to.

      “Hold still, lest I drop you.”

      Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at him. “I do not wish to be coddled. I am meant to be a slave and I should act as such, not as a maid in need of rescue as you so kindly put it.”

      Laughter tickled the back of his throat. It took much effort to keep it from spilling forth. Strange how he’d felt happier since he’d brought her aboard his ship than he had in a long while. “If you are a slave, as you say, then I will coddle you if I so choose. As it stands, you are ill. I would not be a good merchant if I allowed my merchandise to waste away from sickness of the sea, now, would I?”

      She lifted her chin a little higher, crossed her arms over her chest and released a huff. He gave in to the tugging at the corners of his lip. Fortunately, her eyes were closed else there would have been more from her viperous tongue. Admitting defeat was obviously not easy on this Philistine woman who called upon the Hebrew god, and he was certain their little sparring was not over, which pleased him more than it should. Especially given he looked forward to future matches with this mite of a woman.

      “Brison, send a man for a cake of bread and fresh water. I need a bowl and a cloth and the lady needs dry clothing.”

      Tilting her head she glanced up at him. “I pray, do not waste your precious merchandise on a slave like me.”

      The constant reminder of how he’d acquired her burned in his belly. It wasn’t as if he went about buying humans at will. He grabbed hold of the highest ladder rung and climbed into his captain’s quarters. The woman shivered and then clamped a hand over her mouth. Nicolaus tossed the pillows onto the floor and then laid her down on the cushioned bedding of the bench. No sooner had he done so than she sat upright, clutching her stomach as it rebelled against the ship’s motion.

      He swept her hair from her face and tucked it behind her. Drawing her knees into her chest, she rested her cheek against them. Her amber eyes reached into him. He took comfort in the knowledge that she had not willingly jumped into the angry froth.

      “I should not be here.” The words were little more than a whisper, but they were like the snap of a sail as it unfurled into the wind. The vibration of her voice thundered against his palm, slammed against his conscience. He unfolded his length and crossed his arms over his chest before staring out at the choppy sea.

      Had his sister said the very same words when she’d been taken from him? He dropped his arms, clenching his hands at his sides. The fear in his sister’s eyes as she was taken would forever torment him. The fact that he had taken another young maid from her homeland did not ease the suffering. It did not matter that he thought to save her from an even more repugnant future than being bound to him.

      “What is it you are called?” Nicolaus glanced down at her. Her tresses, darkened from the water, fell down her back and pooled onto the bench. He could not change what was. He was not the one who had placed her on the auction block. He only intervened in what fate had in store for her and for that he would not apologize. Somehow he’d make her see the truth. Preferably before they arrived at his father’s house.

      “Ada.” Her body rocked with the waves. She leaned near the edge of the bench and would have fallen if he had not reached out a hand. Her eyes grew wide, and she jerked from his touch.

      “Ada.” He liked the sound of her name. “You should lie down and rest. It is fortunate this is a small storm and will blow over soon. No doubt your stomach will improve once the sea settles.”

      “How can one rest when being tossed about?”

      Before he could respond, Brison entered. “I will see to her, Captain. Xandros has need of your assistance.”

      “Xandros is capable of guiding us through the worst of storms. What could be the problem?”

      Brison shuffled his feet, his gaze never meeting Nicolaus’s. “Do not keep your thoughts to yourself, Brison. Say what needs to be said.”

      His brother glanced at Ada before darting toward Nicolaus. “Er...there be ships approaching, Captain.”

      “What did you say?” His chest constricted in fear. The last time he sailed, ten ships had ambushed him, capturing him and his sister. He had not considered until this moment how his ship had been left to his crew and all of the gifts his father had sent along to his sister’s future groom untouched. An action unheard of for a band of sea thieves. But then it was not just any band of thieves, but rather David of Delos, a man he once considered a friend. A man who had fought by his side. Why had his friend turned against him, stolen his sister and forced Nicolaus into bondage? Those were questions he could not ponder at the moment. Now, he would do all in his might to keep his ship, crew and especially Ada safe.

      “A ship. Perhaps two. Xandros could not be certain. What, with the storm and all it’s a mite hard to discern when they hide behind the waves.”

      Nicolaus breathed a sigh of relief, but still raked shaky fingers through his hair. He knew they’d encounter other ships, and he was thankful only one or two approached. However, he preferred not to encounter them with Ada and his youngest brother on board. He could not lose another sibling to thieves, and he wouldn’t risk Ada.

Chapter Four

      Brison’s words were mumbled beneath his breath, but she understood the tensing of Nicolaus’s jaw. Whatever news Brison had brought with him wasn’t good. The front of the ship lifted, and Ada gripped the edges of the bench to keep from tumbling to the floor. However, her gaze remained on Nicolaus as he braced his palms against either side of the entryway and swung his legs outward before jumping to the deck.

      Once the boat dipped and then settled, Ada pushed from the bench and stumbled to the window. Rain stung her cheeks, like when her sisters had pelted her with pebbles whenever they had wanted her to leave them alone. She swiped the water from her face and shielded her eyes. Dark clouds mingled with the angry sea, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other. The dark wood of the boat was all that broke the dullness of the scenery. That, and the broad shoulders of Nicolaus, who stood on a platform at the front of the ship. His mass of dark curls, soaked from seawater and rain, clung to the contours of his corded neck. His tunic molded to his broad shoulders and arms as wide as a large earthen jar.

      The man standing next to Nicolaus lifted his arm and pointed. Ada caught site of a dark spot looming on the horizon. What it was she could not tell, but by Nicolaus’s stance, she could only imagine. She’d heard the tales from merchants at her father’s table. Some from her father who had personally encountered the ruthless warriors of the sea. Could it be a ship on the horizon? A ship filled with thieves?

      She turned and slid down the wall. The violent rocking of the boat churned her stomach. Hugging her knees to her chest, she buried her face against her forearms. An unbidden tear dropped from the corner of her eye and merged with the salty water soaking her tunic. What did it matter if the ship held thieves? She’d been traded by her sisters for a gold armband to one master only to be sold to Nicolaus.

      What did one more mean to her?

      Nothing. Her future had never truly been hers to determine, and now it seemed even less so. She’d be thankful to have known a mother’s love, which she’d hold in her heart as long as she breathed. She’d also known the spite of siblings