Part 8

"I give them till tonight"

Michael whirled around in surprise only to be shocked. His feet and body unmoving, his eyes trained upon the stranger....well not really a stranger before him. He even forgot to breathe.

"Is that how you greet old friends now? tsk tsk" Maria sat on the edge of the ship. Her feet dangling off the side as she swayed them from side to side. She was looking straight at him. Waiting for a reaction and boy did she get one....yet not the one she expected.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?!!!!!" Michael burst out waving his hands in the air, anger enfolding him rather than the strange burst somewhere, he thought, in his chest. Maria looked taken aback then quickly regained her senses and pinned him with a glare.

"What I'm doing here?! I came here for you, you inconsiderable fool! Why else would I haul myself up this damn ship in pursuit of you" she yelled I chagrin.

"You followed me? Are you crazy do you know who I am?!" he asked incredulous.

"You a pirate who needs lessons in anger management it seems" she crossed her arms across her chest. Michael's blood began to boil.

"Why did you follow me?" he asked in a low tone, fighting to keep calm. Maria looked down shyly then back up again.

"I wanted to see you" she said in a small suddenly meek voice. Michael viens began to pulse.

"See me?! You wanted to see me?!" he shouted "well you've seen me now get off the ship"

"But-"

"NOW!"

"If you haven't noticed you ill conceited oaf-"

"what did you call me?"

"your ship is already-"

"enough talk and leave!"

"AT SEA!" Maria yelled at the top of her voice causing the closest of the crew including Michael to stop dead. Michael's eyes drifted beyond her and widened in realization. His gaze then drifted back to Maria as he took in her appearance. She was still wearing that piece of seductive material but the color appeared darker, almost black, in comparison to what it looked at the club. Her skin seemed gleaming, as if wet but the moonlight was faint and he could not be sure. Until his gaze came to rest on her face. Her lips were quivering, her eyes glittering and her hair, which once was a golden waterfall, now a mass of brown attached to her head.

"Y-you swam here?" he asked softly, not believing it. Maria nodded stiffly.

"And now I believe you asked me to leave, i shall do so immediately" she said and began to twist in attempt to jump off. Michael recognized her intent in that same moment. As Maria turned with the intention of hurling herself overboard, he leapt upon her. She was pulled against his hard body from behind and wrapped in his embrace.
Maria screamed but the sound did not reach her throat before a warm palm came to rest on her mouth, silencing her. Michael twisted his head and noticed behind them the crew still standing and watching.

"Enough! go about your chores" it was a gruff order and they quickly obeyed although the scene had them confused about who that strange woman was. Michael released her mouth and Maria began to struggle.

"Let go of me! Let me go" she twisted and squirmed against him trying to escape his embrace. His iron grip only fueled her anger more and her resistance. She grew so faint from her exertions that she feared she'd collapse in his arms. Finally he grew bored. Abruptly he tightened his arms around her and she stilled.

"Better" he breathed against her neck and ear "I cannot allow you to jump woman" he announced.

"And why not?!" Maria asked. She was suddenly turned around to face him.

"Because I'm not about to have a woman, dead from the shock of the water, on my hands" he answered making the answer seem more than obvious. Maria was quiet for a moment, contemplating.

"What are you going to do with me now then?" she asked slowly.

"Unfortunately I have to keep you here onboard until I can find a way to dispose of you" he answered. Inside though he did not know why that burst suddenly turned into an ache.

"I predicted we'd meet again, but I didn't expect to want to regret it as soon as I did" she said in a low voice, looking beyond the horizon, not really intending for him to hear. But he did and strangely enough, it hurt.

After countless twists and turns the door that held Liz captive still would not budge. An hour passed she guessed before she moved away from it in defeat. That was when her eyes finally roamed over her cage.

The cabin was intricately paneled in teakwood. Dozens of beautiful rugs covered most of the gleaming oak floor. Under one of the cabin's five portholes were some half dozen oversize Turkish pillows, embroidered and tasseled. A large, nearly black, wood dining table, its heavy pedestal boasting four clawed feet, graced the far end of the room. Six leather-backed Spanish chairs surrounded it. One end of the table was used as a desk for it was covered with maps, charts, inkhorn and quill, and books.
One wall boasted a bookcase almost as high as the ceiling while another wall held an exquisite armoire. At the other end of the cabin was a bed. The canopy was royal purple damask, the underside pleated with gold silk. The curtains were of royal purple velvet, pulled back by heavy red-and-gold cords.

Liz shuddered as she remembered the way he had thrown her onto that bed and came atop her with complete masculine abandon. The way he covered her body with his warmth left her quivering. She forced herself to look away and to a large, boldly carved chest at the foot of the bed and lifting her gaze to the walls she saw numerous works of art.

Liz didn't know what to do now. She walked to one of the portholes and her breath caught in her throat. A tear escaped down her cheek. Florence was nothing but faraway mountains. The ship has sailed, and she would never see home again. Briefly Liz wondered what sort of chores she was to complete. Her gaze instinctively went to the bed.' No' she told herself 'he doesn't want you. He said so himself'. That thought at least brought some comfort to her current position as captive, yet an unexpected disappointment which she chose not to dwell on.

Having nothing else to do Liz paced back and forth trying to find a way out of her predicament. She walked back to the porthole and stared out into the sea. Would a watery grave be better than a sudden life of imprisonment? Liz knew the answer to that. No. It would do no good to return to her parents in a coffin.

Finally Liz began to grow tired and sleep began to creep up on her. She glanced around from the bed to the floor. No. She would not succumb to such pleasure as a bed. Especially when it is her captor's. A savage pirate. She walked briskly to the wide bed and picked up the blanket he put there and walked over to a corner in the room. There she laid the blanket down and propped herself onto it leaning her back on the wall. A few minutes later sleep claimed her and she restlessly fell into a dreamless state.

If Max was paying attention he would have heard a woman scream on the other side of the ship. But his thoughts were too centered on the little prisoner below deck. She simply would not leave his mind. Unlike most women, she gave him the role of predator, instead of he being the one to be seduced, to be persuaded to bed them. It was unsettling for him. He was usually in control of his actions, his very feelings but with that thief everything is lost to the waves under his 'Cruella'. He wanted Liz to want him.

Max paused and his eyes widened. He couldn't believe it. He wanted that piece of plain female. It was inevitable, he thought. For she is quite the attractive young thing. He had to remind himself though. She was his enemy in a way and he would see to it that he stayed as far away as he could from her.

Slowly he began to descend the narrow stairs to his cabin. Upon reaching it the door he unlocked it and, taking a deep breath, entered. Immediately his eyes sought her out, but she was nowhere in sight. Panic struck him as he roamed the room wildly for any sign of her. He froze.

She was huddled in a corner, breathing evenly, and he guessed she was asleep. He took the time to gaze at her. Her slender form curled up in the corner, her hair loose and hanging over her face in an attempt to shield her from view. He kneeled down to assess her more. Only the close proximity led his hand to physically assess her as it glided down the chocolate waterfall. 'Like silk' he thought. His fingers then moved down to lightly graze her arms. Her head snapped up. He recoiled. The effort caused him to fall back onto his shoulder. The injured one, and he groaned.

Fear gripped at her when she realized what he was doing and she immediately stood and placed her hands before her in an effort to defend herself. She heard him groan. She realized that the simple fall could not really harm a large man such as himself. That was when her eyes caught the bruise. Her gaze shifted to lock with his. There was surprise and a small glimmer of pain etched in them. She also noticed, as her eyes looked at his mouth, that he was breathing hard. She looked back up at him.

"You're hurt" Liz exclaimed softly. He got up and walked away.

"Tis nothing" he said and opened the chest at the foot of the bed, retrieving a plain white shirt. His hands then moved to the hem of the one he was wearing and he began to lift it up.

"What are you doing?" she demanded nervously. He looked at her with amusement.

"I am changing from my ripped shirt to a new one" he answered as if it truly wasn't that obvious. Silence followed as Max paused, his hands on the hem once again.

"I beg you, let me go" her voice was soft pleading. Max steeled his resolve.

"No" was his only answer as he moved his hands up and seconds later was left bare chested. Liz nearly swooned. His chest was magnificent. Fine ripples graced his abdomen, his chest pulsing, his muscles a how of how strong and fit he was. No trace of hair was found and Liz concluded that he was fairly young. Some twenty perhaps. He seemed quite young for a pirate. Liz began to wonder what drove him to it. He put on the shirt and Liz snapped out of her thoughts. How could she be thinking that? She doesn't to know anything about him. She just wants to go home.

"You may go back to sleep" he announced with a wave of his hand back to the corner she was in a few moments ago. Liz stood her ground.

"I don't take orders from you" she declared icily. He chuckled humorlessly.

"I believe you have no choice in the matter" he answered as he moved to his bed.

"You will have to force me to do your bidding" she said in a low tone. He tilted his head, as if contemplating it.

"I must confess I cannot force you to sleep. If you wish to remain awake" he crossed over to the door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket "then by all means".

Liz felt chagrined but refrained from doing anything about it. He might now have hurt her before. But getting him all angry again could produce other...worse results. Her first encounter with him wasn't pleasant, she wasn't about to make it worse.

"Godforsaken pirate" she muttered under her breath, but apparently he heard her.

"I do have a name you know" he said matter-of-factly. Liz hardly paid attention to his remark as she made her way back to her resting place.

"Savage dirty tongued pirate" she mumbled.

"It's Max" he paused and Liz plopped down on the blanket.

"And I can do more with that dirty tongue than speak" he continued and Liz nearly toppled over as she adjusted herself. She heard him chuckle.

"I'm sure you can wash with some soap" she muttered softly making sure he wouldn't hear her this time.

Max lay on his bed, fully clothed, his sword protectively by his side incase he needed it. Liz tore her gaze away and huddled into a ball on the floor. She had try and escape. She decided to wait until he fell asleep till she could carefully approach him, reach into his breeches, claim the key and rush out. After that she can figure a way off the damned ship.

An hour passed and Liz lay motionless watching her captor, Max. His chest rose and fell slowly, evenly and Liz knew he was asleep. Silently she got up and padded carefully closer to his bed. Her feet noiseless against the thick wool beneath her. When she got to the bed she paused and watched him for a moment. His face held a different texture when he was asleep she realized. Softer, gentler, even innocent. Liz shook her head ridding those ridiculous thoughts. He wasn't innocent. Not at all.

Right now he was at the center of the bed so slowly Liz creeped up the bed making as little movement as possible. As soon as she was as his side he hand began to tentatively reach for his breeches. The gesture to her suddenly seemed quite intimate and she swallowed hard. Her fingers touched the fabric at his thigh and Liz could feel the hard muscle down there. They glided up to his waist then down a bit to where the key lay. Biting hard on her lip so she won't make a sound she parted the pocket and began to reach in.

Suddenly Liz found herself being thrown back and landing her back. A hard body pressed into her side. Max's arm encircled her waist binding her hands at her sides. His leg lay across both of hers. She was trapped and the breath knocked out of her, that she couldn't speak. He leaned in to breathe into her ear. His breath hot against her skin. She shivered.

"Unfortunately" he whispered "we have run out of soap."