I. Am. Back. *checks pocketwatch* And on schedule, no less! Well, on schedule according to me. To those of you that are in a different timezone, I apologize. Anyway, this is gonna be another three-parter! Whoo! Haven't had one of those in a while. And better yet, it's gonna be all smexy Spaniard. All of it. Every single bit. *ahem* Sorry, couldn't help myself. So (does anybody actually read this?) I still have more in the buffer, but it's disjointed and will take time to connect the dots. But I have more further in, so it'll probably be another pause, then another buffer for a short while. Just wanted to give you guys a heads-up!

Anyway, enough of me blabbering. Time to throw these two together so they can grow closer, and develop a deeper relationship, and answer some questions and blahblahblah, just hurry up and just kiss already! (Yeah, right. We can wish...)

"Holy shit!" I yelped, jolting to the side as I saw Salazar's familiar form leaning back against the railing behind me, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "What the hell? Do you get that much of a kick out of scaring me?"

"A…kick?" he queried, tilting his head as he considered the foreign term.

"You think it's funny." I pressed a hand to my throat to feel my pulse racing under my fingers, though I wasn't sure it was entirely from him startling me. I hope he hadn't seen me dancing around like an idiot…

"Ah. Only a little."

I managed to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Barely.

"I enjoy listening to your voice. Why didn't you say you could sing earlier?" he asked curiously, studying me with his distinctive intensity, but it seemed more concentrated than usual. As if he was determined to peel back the barrier between him and my innermost thoughts, to expose my very being.

I shifted, his sheer focus making my muscles tighten with a strange anticipation. I had to struggle hard not to recall that I'd seen this man naked. Not completely all at once, but still. I'd seen his- "I think one anxiety attack per night is enough for me. Besides, I'm only as good as when I'm alone. Or when I think nobody can hear me. And I…didn't want to seem like I was competing." No need to trigger Lady BeKatt's animosity any more than I already have.

"Mm…" He pushed smoothly away from the railing and sauntered towards me, moving with a feline grace that drew the eye like a magnet.

I moved over so he could lean against the railing without touching me, yet somehow I found his shoulder brushing mine, sucking up my personal space.

But the touch didn't bother me in the slightest. It actually felt reassuring, like something I could draw strength from. The tassels on his epaulets tickled through my shirt.

"More is coming back to me, from during my illness," he suddenly murmured, staring out over the waves.

I instantly cringed next to him with a silent groan, the comfort evaporating on a sudden lurch of anxiety. I give it about twenty seconds before we find out if it's really possible for someone to die of embarrassment.

"I remember that you sang to me. I heard your voice," he continued, that soft, easy tone doing nothing to calm my panicking nerves. "I remember you talked a great deal, though I do not recall exact words."

Okay, maybe ten seconds. Struggling not to fidget, I wondered if there was a way to head him off before he remembered too much. "You know what, I think Miguel had something for me to do. I'll just-"

"Did I compromise you?" he asked bluntly, turning to pin me to the spot with a grim frown, jaw rippling with repressed vexation. Yet it didn't seem to be aimed at me. At himself?

I clicked in my throat, trying to recall just how touchy the 18th century standard of 'compromised' was. Technically speaking, if this were any other situation, I knew I'd already have been dragged to the altar, whether I wanted to be or not. "No…"

One dark eyebrow lifted disbelievingly. "You don't sound very convinced."

I swallowed and made an uncertain noise, unable to meet his eyes. "By my standards, no. You didn't 'compromise' me." My hand was wrapped around his-his cock. How the fuck is that not 'compromised', girlfriend?

"Very well, then what did I do? Because I remember some things as vivid as this moment now, and others…" he trailed off, gesturing in vexation. "And some of what is vivid is very…intimate."

His obvious frustration made me feel guilty for refusing him answers and I knew I'd want someone to tell me if I was in his position. "Clothes stayed on and there was only a little touching. That's it. Nothing more than that."

He blew out a weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he muttered under his breath, then louder, "You are…certain?"

"Captain." I waited until he opened his eyes and I had his full attention. "You were sick, you had a high grade fever, you weren't in control of yourself. And nothing happened. Well, what I'd consider nothing, anyway. You'd have a problem with it, but you don't remember what you did. So I'm saying that nothing happened. And you need to stop berating yourself."

"You do not…fear me? After my actions? After I forced myself upon you?" he asked cautiously, scanning over my face earnestly. "The truth, por favor."

Memories of his 'actions' threatened to shatter my composure. And my equilibrium.

I smiled wryly while struggling not to let my thoughts color my cheeks. Right now, the only thing I'm afraid of is what I'm thinking! Stop bringing it up! "No, I'm not afraid of you. Maybe when I first met you but now…" I shook my head. "And only when you're mad. But I'm pretty much nervous around anyone I don't know well when they're angry."

Tension visibly loosened from his shoulders and he lowered himself to lean against the railing again. After a moment of curiously watching his profile, I turned to do the same. It must be terrible, to have memories of actions you'd done without your conscious consent. And with someone those actions were not intended for.

The guilt was going to eat me alive. If the anxiety didn't get to me first, that is. I shouldn't have enjoyed those intimate little touches as much as I had…

But surprise mixed into the emotional tumult as I came to realization that now with everything like it 'should' be, what with Salazar finally being awake, I wasn't feeling quite so anxious. I was actually feeling…somewhat normal, all things considered, despite the little teeth of guilt gnawing away at the edges.

My bewildered amazement must have shown on my face.

"What surprises you?" Salazar asked, studying me inquisitively.

"I'm…" I trailed off, struggling to put it in words. "I'm getting used to being here and it's actually…kind of nice." I titled my head, frowning as I pondered on that.

"Explain, por favor."

I twitched my head to see Salazar was still observing me, interest lighting his features as he waited for my reply.

"It's…difficult to put into words. I was going through a lot of stress before landing here. Constantly worn out, swinging from bouts of panic to listlessness to irrational anger. I could barely string two thoughts together because it was such a struggle just to think."

Salazar frowned, as if not pleased with the mental image I'd given him. "And now?"

"Now, unless I start thinking about if I'm ever able to get home or not, and I'm not so worried about you biting my head off at any given moment, it's a sort of twisted relaxation, not being able to control anything. There's literally nothing I can do to change anything, to fix it, so for now, I'm just along for the ride."

Easy silence flowed between us once I was done sharing my insight, and I lifted my nose into the breeze, enjoying the calm waters as the Mary glided towards her destination. It still amazed me at how graceful she was, when I would have figured she would be clunky like a three-legged rhino considering her size.

"I believe I understand," Salazar murmured softly, shifting closer and I basked in his warmth. Ever since we'd both been sick, I kept finding him inside my hamster ball, taking up space with his big self, but I didn't mind. Had become comfortable with his presence. I actually found myself looking forward to the little moments when he came and shared my company, the little moments when we touched, even though I knew I shouldn't. I tried to ignore it, but still felt a little euphoric all the same-

"Señorita Revanne."

His hesitant tone was so unlike the confident richness that I'd come to associate with this intimidating man. It worried me.

Brow furrowing in bewilderment, I turned to look at him, but he wasn't looking at me, instead staring intently over the waves, his jaw rippling as he clenched it.

"Did I…force you to touch me intimately?"

My stomach hit the deck with a practically audible splat.

His gaze snapped to mine before I could recover. But I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I couldn't even meet his eyes, staring at some point over his shoulder. Yet I had the sinking feeling that the crimson hue of my skin was answer enough.

Salazar's heavy sigh ruffled my hair. "I was afraid of that."

"I-I-" I stuttered to a halt, erotic memories rushing through my mind, then swallowed and dropped my gaze, fixating on one of his medals, the one closest to the line of buttons on his coat. Distantly, I wondered if I'd ever find out how he'd earned them. "I know it's not…proper, but it's not something you need to worry yourself about. Truly. I'm not going to hold it against you, and I know it's against the rules and everything, but please don't feel like you need to fix it. You were sick. You were very, very sick. You were dreaming I was someone else, and couldn't realize that I wasn't her."

I was rambling. I knew it, yet I couldn't stop as I raced closer to the inevitable trainwreck.

"You didn't hurt me, I swear, and nothing happened with consequences, so please. Please don't try to fix this. You'll only make it worse. Just let it go and forget about it and we won't-"

Warm, calloused fingers slid under my chin and gently lifted my face up. The rough pad of his thumb pressed against my lips, stemming the flow of words before I embarrassed myself completely.

I swallowed nervously as I met Salazar's steady gaze briefly before glancing away, unable to hold the intense contact. Not with his hot fingers branding my skin, my lips.

The urge to open my mouth and nip at his thumb was astonishingly strong, and I couldn't decipher if it was simply my impulse to bite or a response to his touch.

"You aren't like any woman I know, Isabeau. You truly aren't going to hold me to it, are you?" His tone wasn't doubtful, but curious, almost wondering. "After what happened, you won't blame me for it, even though it would be completely understandable if you did. It is well within your right to do so. Many others would in fact think less of you for not taking advantage of my weakness."

My gaze flicked back to his, faltering only for a moment under his calm study before I was able to hold steady. I'd read enough historical novels to have a good feel for proper etiquette of the 19th century and figured the 18th was close to the same. I knew, if for an instant, I'd blamed him, he would have done what was proper, and asked for my hand. He was too honorable not to.

An icy shiver chased down my spine at the thought of trapping this man in marriage like that.

Neither of us would ever forgive me if I did such a thing. "I'm not going to blame someone for something they did while not in control of their own body."

The firm statement caught him off guard, shock appearing in his expression before his face brightened into a half-smile, as if pleasantly surprised with my declaration. He finally dropped his fingers away from my chin, allowing me to lower my eyes.

But my skin still felt the imprint of his fingers, the heat of his hand, like he was still touching me. It was maddening, how much just the brush of his skin against mine affected me. What was he doing to me?

"Bien. I am…thankful."

Trying to lighten the mood, I reared back and wrinkled my nose at him in mock outrage. "Well, you don't need to make it sound like it'd be your worse hell marrying me. Not a very flattering opinion, Captain." I sniffed disdainfully, then grinned at him to let him know I was only joking.

He blinked, as if not expecting that I would tease him about such a subject. Then his mouth quirked in a playful smile that made my stomach flip upside down. "My worse hell, no. More of a…stimulating venture."

"Uh-huh." I rolled my eyes with a snort and shook my head before watching the horizon, enjoying the calm.

Salazar was silent for a long moment, shifting closer into my personal space. Aside from a slight tensing along my shoulders, it didn't bother me nearly as intensely as it once did. I was getting used to this, to him. To his forceful nature, the unnerving intensity of his focus, the smaller personal space of his culture.

I stilled as a notion occurred to me. Salazar generally went out of his way to make sure he respected my personal space, but sometimes I'd find him uncomfortably close. Usually it was only when we were out on the deck. Was there a reason for that or-

I couldn't control the slight jerk of shock as I realized that there was a reason.

My left side was currently a little chilled, nothing I couldn't ignore, but my right side, the side that Salazar was all but leaning against, was comfortably toasty.

He did this to keep me warm.

Blinking furiously to control the sudden, unexpected blurriness in my eyes, I bit my lip to keep from doing something stupidly embarrassing. Something that suspiciously felt like bursting into tears at this display of attention and kindness. Why the fuck is this turning me into a goddamn watering pot?! It shouldn't be affecting me like this!

Warmth tickled in my chest as I grasped that he also went about keeping me warm in such a way that I wouldn't feel as awkwardly uncomfortable as if he'd offered his coat. If he did, I'd more than likely try to refuse, and would probably end up returning to my cabin. Somehow, he'd understood that long before I did, and acted accordingly, to prevent me having to retreat.

His keen perception was downright eerie, yet absolutely amazing at the same time.

The unexpected desire to give him a tight hug in appreciation almost overwhelmed my restraint before I managed to wrestle it under control. What if I was wrong?

Yet, in one of my rare instances of certainty, I knew I wasn't. I wasn't sure how, but I knew I wasn't wrong.

I really want to give him a hug… Absently, I wondered what his reaction would be if I just slipped my arms around his waist and gave him a quick squeeze. Would he stiffen and wait statue-still until I let go? Push me off and coldly distance himself? Or hug me back, with the intensity he'd had in my cabin?

"What are you thinking of?"

"If you'd let me hug you or not," I replied distractedly, then clapped a hand over my mouth as I jolted back to the real world with the horrified realization of what I'd just blurted out.

My wide eyes flashed over to see Salazar watching me, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was utterly impassive. Was he surprised? Upset? Irritated at my audacity?

Never play poker with Armando Salazar.

"I-I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, "I d-didn't-"

Movement blurred and I blinked to find myself plastered against the heavy broadcloth of his uniform coat, his medals chiming by my ear.

Surprised tension quickly melted from my muscles and I sank eagerly against his heat, his strength. My arms were tucked between me and the firmness of his stomach where I'd tried to catch myself as he tugged me off-balance. I wanted to hug him back, but I'd have to move and I didn't want to, perfectly content right where I was.

Reíno's hugs were pleasant, but they didn't hold a candle to Salazar's. For some reason I should have been worried about that, but at the moment, I really couldn't care less.

"You need only but ask," Salazar murmured, lowering his head until his lips were next to my ear. "And not fear that I will reprimand if you do so. The worst that I will say is no."

"But-" I started, only to snap my mouth shut when he reached up with the hand not clamped around my waist and stroked a finger across the nape of my neck, effectively silencing me. Ticklish chills skittered up the back of my scalp at his touch.

"Look at me."

I resisted the softly spoken command, burying my face in his chest, shifting to snake my arms around his waist and squeeze tightly as I absorbed his heat.

"Isabeau."

I stubbornly shook my head, knowing I was being childish by trying to hide in his waistcoat, but I just wanted to hug him, not go through the Spanish Inquisition!

Salazar sighed in exasperation before sliding his fingers into my hair and grasping firmly, not hurting me, clenching only tight enough that he could pull my head back to meet his eyes. My hair was a lot longer than I'd realized if he could get a grip that easily.

I tried to toss my head free of his grip, but he tugged warningly. I huffed, then gave in, locking my gaze with his.

"If you have not yet noticed, I give you much more free rein than I should. More so than I have given any woman of my acquaintance."

"Why Captain, you mean to say you don't normally let women get away with kicking you in the shin for stealing their pineapple after knowing them only a few days?" I remarked cheekily with mock surprise.

"You would reference that incident." He rolled his eyes, the gesture so startling and unexpected from a Spaniard who was renowned for his ruthlessness that I couldn't help a giggle.

His gaze jerked back to me, eyes widening when he heard me laugh. Deep lines creased his cheeks as he smiled warmly in return. "My point is, if you would like a hug, I do not mind if you ask me. I won't be angered by such a request. I'm a man, not a monster, as you've so kindly reminded me."

Salazar let go of my hair to playfully ruffle his fingers through it, keeping me pinned against him as I struggled to throw him off. He did it the wrong direction on purpose, and I could feel it standing on end as a result.

I blew through my nose, shaking my head to dislodge his hand. "That wasn't nice! You're gonna give me a cowlick!"

His smile widened as his eyes flicked over my hair. "If that is your hair standing straight up in the front, I believe you already have one."

"Thanks so much." I wrinkled my nose, freeing one hand from around his waist to try and flatten his efforts.

He watched me try and fix my hair, his mouth quirking lopsidedly, obviously entertained. "You still address me as Capitán."

Pausing, I glanced up at him with a confused look. "Am I not supposed to?"

"You may use my name, if you wish."

I had to stop and sort out the little thrill his permission sent zinging down my spine for some weird reason.

"So, question. You out here for a specific reason other than just to pester me?" I asked, finally managing to smooth down the strange feeling and my ruffled mane, though I could still feel the cowlick. Whatever. If it bothers him, he shouldn't have messed with my hair.

To my surprise, Salazar's expression melted into something that looked like reluctance, as if he'd enjoyed the lighthearted atmosphere as much as I had and was unwilling to broach whatever subject he'd originally approached me for, other than the details of his feverish seduction. "I did have something I wanted to ask you, aside from what occurred during my fever. Lesaro mentioned that you have worries, concerns. I would like for you to tell me those worries."

Now that I found exasperating, that firm order wrapped deceivingly in a request.

I withdrew from the embrace, thankful when he let go of me without protest, though he did raise an eyebrow when I wrapped my arms around my stomach. I knew it was a defensive posture, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want to give voice to my fears. Not when this moment was keeping them quiet at the back of my skull.

"I…not right now, please. I'll tell you later, I promise, just not right now."

For a brief moment, I thought he would push anyway. Just bulldoze over my emotional barrier to get the answers he sought.

His nostrils flared as he took a controlling breath and blew it out, the firm determination fading from his features. "Very well." He nodded in agreement. "Later."

"Thank you. They're…quiet, for the moment. The worries. And I'd like to enjoy it, while I can." I just wanted to take a breath, have a few minutes of freedom from the howling whirl of my anxiety. I knew it'd come back, it always did, but for now, everything was calm.

I turned and leaned back over the railing. The stretch of waves, an expanse that extended as far as the eye could see, was extremely soothing, allowing for thoughts to drift peacefully.

A random memory slid through my mind and I snickered in response.

"Something amuses you?" Salazar's rich baritone buzzed along my skin, and I flicked a glance to see he'd resumed his position next to me.

This time I made sure I was paying attention when I answered him.

"Lesaro made a comment about you being charming during one of the times we talked when he came to check on you." I started giggling, unable to stop for some idiotic reason. "I'm sorry, but I just can't imagine it! I mean, I know you can be charming, I'm sure, but I just…can't-"

I broke off into peals of laughter. Between the piqued expression on his face and just the sheer hilarity of the moment, it was just too much for my poor sense of humor.

"I can be perfectly charming when I so wish." His voice held a disgruntled note as he straightened to his full height, making me have to crane my neck to meet his peeved glower, which grew steadily more peeved as I continued to laugh.

Trying not to ruffle his feathers any more, I worked to swallow my amusement, finally getting my giggling fit under control.

I patted his arm soothingly, struggling hard to not start giggling again at his disdainful look at the gesture. "I'm sorry, I'm just laughing like an idiot because I'm just having a hard time imagining it. You're, well, you," I gestured to his powerful form towering over me, clad in full military uniform, one hand resting on the hilt of his rapier, with an irked expression on his formidably handsome face, "and it's just difficult to associate that with 'charming'."

Salazar raised an eyebrow, a wickedly calculating look suddenly sliding across his features as I tried to backpedal.

I gulped, immediately aware that, playfulness aside, this was an intimidating, intelligent, incredibly attractive Spaniard to whom I had very little resistance, if any, and I had literally just shoved a challenge in his face. A challenge that called his conduct into question.

Oh, shit.

Salazar is so soft, and so fluffy and so playful, and this is a man who executes other human beings with batting an eyelid. I mean, granted, they're murderous scumbags, depending on who you ask, but still. (We'll be getting a reminder in a few chapters, don't worry)

But to all those who were guessing that he remembered what happened to his fever, hehe, you were right! It took him a little while, but he remembered! Kinda.

(And we all know he had more fun than he probably should have ruffling Isabeau's hair. ^.^)