Waking only when hearing the knock upon her cabin door, Catherine stirred, then realized that once again she was alone in bed. When Will had left, she hadn't a clue, for he had slipped silently out of her bunk.

"Miss Cathie, apologies, but Cap'n Will 'as requested to dine with ye...in 'ere, at the grand table this noon," Red Roof announced from the other side of the door.

Pulling the blanket hastily up to cover herself, knowing the door was unlocked, the woman looked slightly startled. "He did?" she asked in surprise.

"Aye, 'e did," Red Roof chuckled softly.

Looking about at what she thought would still be a mess with items carelessly tossed or jousled about, Catherine found the cabin unexpectedly picked up-mostly. "Tell him I look forward to dining with him."

"Stout is plannin' to fix ye somethin' quite edible too," the tall, thin man added, quite proud of himself and his friend.

"Sounds wonderful," she smiled, slipping out of bed. "Red, would you please bring me some fresh water?"

"Right 'ere," he informed, bucket in hand. "May I come in?"

Catherine looked about for her dressing gown and couldn't find it, then remembered that it was soaked with seawater from the night before. "Just leave it beside the door, I'll get it," she suggested.

"Aye, Miss. Oh, Miss Cathie, Cap'n Will said I should leave ye this as well," he added, as she could hear him setting two things outside her door. "Said you'd be needin' a new wash bowl seein' as 'ow the old one was damaged."

Blushing furiously, unable to stop herself at the mere mention of such and how the basin had not just gotten damaged, but broke in two, Catherine sighed. "Tell the Cap'n he's quite thoughtful," she answered.

"Will do," Red Roof exclaimed, his whistling echoing about as he left.

When Will knocked upon her cabin door, Catherine couldn't help but eye him with great interest and appreciation as she let him inside. The man was beyond alluring as he strode in. He was newly washed and shaved; the goatee he now wore was most handsome for his face and the clothes he had on were crisp and clean. The shirt, open low upon his chest, blazed a brilliant white against tan skin, as the britches he wore were snug and fed into the high, black leather boots that were newly polished. He looked every bit the scoundrel pirate she had imagined existed-and it was damn near overwhelming to look upon.

While Catherine was so wrapped up in Will, she was too busy to realize that he as well was quite taken by her appearance. The gown she had chosen looked amazing, it was a green that matched her eyes and showed just enough cleavage to make a man dizzy with desire. Around her neck was a simple, green satin ribbon that made him ache to kiss the nape of her neck if given the first invitation-damn she was desirable.

The two had scarcely said two words before the knock upon the door alerted them that the meal was ready and Stout and a few of the crew brought in the food and wine. "It looks amazing," Catherine smiled, watching as Stout now blushed, or at least it seemed so since it was difficult to see through his white whiskers.

"Thank ye, Miss Catherine," he grinned, backing out as if he was still too busy watching the two.

Will shook his head in amusement until everyone left the cabin and he went to the door to lock it for privacy. "Where were we?"

"I'm not sure," Catherine smiled so sweetly that the naughtiness of it caught his breath.

"We really should eat," Will remarked half-heartedly, waving to the bounty of food upon the table. "Or at the very least, drink," he grinned, picking up the glass of wine, slowly stalking towards the alluring woman.

"We really should," she sighed, watching as Will took a small, seductive sip from the wine glass before leaning in to kiss her, the sweet wine heavy upon his tongue and lips.

"Mmmm...nice," she purred, licking his bottom lip as he pulled away. "May I?"

Will arched a dark brow curiously before bowing his head in consent as he handed her the glass.

Taking a small sip of her own, Catherine locked eyes with the man and couldn't help but notice how he unconsciously licked his lips as she made sure he knew how much she enjoyed herself. It was her turn to reach forward, pull the tie from his hair and urge him closer as she kissed him slowly, seductively, their tongues lapping at the other.

"Very nice," Will said lowly after tugging her bottom lip playfully with his teeth.

Catherine raised a brow and looked quite sure of herself, which made him grin. "We really should eat, Stout went to a lot of trouble..." he suggested, having no intentions of dining.

"...True. We did miss breakfast...or at least I did," Catherine sighed, finding herself being slowly backed against the table.

His arms were tight about her waist as his lips wished to devour her with his kiss. Catherine's hands were gliding across his chest, then under the billowing shirt as her fingers delighted in the feel of the muscles along his neck and shoulders.

Will Turner was growling deep in his throat as he released his hold upon her waist and was rucking her skirts up while lifting her to sit upon the edge of the table.

Their meal would have to wait.

Leaning forward, elbow on the table, her bodice unlaced and her shift barely covering her breasts in that position, Catherine sat contently and enjoyed a delicious apple. Will in the meantime, sat at the head of the table, shirt untucked, falling off his shoulder, booted feet crossed at the ankles while resting on the edge of the gleaming piece of furniture, enjoying the view of his lover and the fig he was eating.

"Tell me something, Mr. Turner..."

Will's raised brow and the look in his eyes made her stop. "After what we were just doing, I think you'd best call me Will," he corrected, making her roll her eyes while blushing.

"Will, I overheard some of the men saying that Ark and the other two from the old crew-the crew of my husband's, left the ship. Is this true? Any ideas?"

Wiping his hands, Will fought with himself as to how much to confess. "It's true, they slipped off ship the day we set sail again. As to why...my inclination is to believe they didn't find what they were hoping to find aboard the Engloria."

Placing the apple core to the table, Catherine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Miss Kent..."

It was Catherine's turn to pointedly arch a brow at the dark-haired man. "Catherine," he corrected. "I'm rather positive, with Ark being your late husband's quartermaster, he was privileged to certain knowledge. But possibly not everything Charles Hyde was up to. I'm rather certain Ark and the other two were hoping to find something stashed away for a very rainy day by their original captain-Mad Charles."

"But what? I know we're running illegal with rum and such, but half the ships in the Caribbean do the same. That couldn't be what they were looking for, he believes there's something else..." she then found herself thinking back.

Picking up his wine glass, Will took a sip and then fought the question he wanted to ask, but the feel of the well worn leather pouch resting against his chest made him continue. " 'Is' there something else?"

Cocking her head to the side, Catherine looked to the man with a mixture of emotions. "Are you insinuating that there is?"

"Should I?"

Taking her own wineglass in hand, she took a long sip hoping to silence the anger that was flaring within her. "I think that considering my future lies in the sale of what's in the cargo hold and nothing more, I'm rather certain that there is nothing else. Why do you accuse me?"

"I've done no such thing," Will replied, feeling quite guilty for he had done exactly that. But the truth was, he wished to find her at fault, in a lie, anything to stop himself for feeling the feelings that were flittering on the edge of his being.

Nodding her head, Catherine let the subject drop then brought up something much more personal. "Will, what has..." she waved her hand about the cabin, "between us, you nor I are obligated to anything but...that." Feeling quite proud of herself at keeping her voice relatively even-mostly, she avoided his gaze.

Will thought he'd feel a great sense of relief at her words, but something inside him was angry, possessive, but he'd not let her see this-never. "I agree. Pleasures of the flesh...nothing more and no obligations."

Raising his glass in her direction, Catherine did the same. Both said not a word while making the pact, for there was an oddity in the air and feeling between them. An oddity that one had truly never experienced and the other had thought certain to never experience again.