16.
The Next Adventure
She wore only her nightgown, and enveloped in its billowing white folds, she looked feminine and delicate. The very image of a heroine. But unlike the heroines she had read about in her books of adventure and romances...she was neither fleeing from some ghastly horror, nor haunting the dim halls and corridors of some gloom enshrouded manse.
She was, in fact, curled in a most unladylike fashion, in the Captain's great chair. Before her was the log book...neatly lettered in her own hand, and pushed aside to allow for the scattered papers on which she was hurriedly detailing the events of the last few days.
It was frustrating, not to be able to catch the colors or smells of the battle exactly as she had seen them. In her exasperation at her lack of literary skills, she began to sketch along the side of the paper.
Of course it was he...James, that she drew. She was worried about him. She had not had a chance to speak with him in these three days...he had been passed out in a drunken and feverish sleep almost constantly. However Smee, and the doctor from the town, insisted that the fever was gone now, and he was sleeping a good refreshing sleep. Wounds heal faster in Neverland...unlike grudges and hatreds. Hook's wound would heal. Perhaps even his heart would heal.
But Wendy wondered what the man would want to do now that his nemesis was captured. They had not yet sent Peter away. Smee had advised they would do better to wait for the Captains recovery. It was most likely a matter of business he would like to see to himself.
Wendy was trying to forget Peter. It seemed the wisest thing to do, She had saved his life...twice, and considered them to owe each other no favors. She felt herself to be well rewarded for any troubles or inconveniences. After all...if not for Peter and his meddling, would she be here?
With James Hook?... Doubtful.
She smiled as she thought of the simple warm happiness that was hers now. It was somewhere near her heart. She added a picture of herself beside the one of the Captain. She drew herself smiling, wearing the pirate clothes, and the mermaid pins. She added a glowing heart...over her left breast.
" I had no idea you were an artist"
A small cry of surprise slipped out before she could contain it, and she clapped a hand over where her glowing heart should have been. Hers wasn't glowing now, it was racing wildly, as she turned. He was standing behind the chair, shirtless, holding a glass of brandy in his hand. He did not seem to be in much pain.
In fact, he was grinning, quite pleased with himself for having startled her in such a fashion. He found her red cheeks and wide eyes to be very attractive in combination with her innocent face and demure gown.
But when she smiled up at him, in true and honest relief to see him alive and standing...he realized that coming that close to death had not changed his mind. He was still senselessly infatuated with her.
" Are you...felling better? " she asked, standing.
" Almost." he replied, tossing back the burning liquor.
" Can I get you something? Does ..." she trailed off, taken aback for a moment. She had walked around the chair, and found that it had been obscuring the fact that he was stark naked and quite unabashed. Her faltering only charmed him more. As did the fact that she struggled so hard not to stare at him.
He was actually feeling much better, he realized. As he watched her bosom heaving beneath the snowy fabric, any pain he might have been having was fast dispersing.
Wendy regained her composure and cleared her throat.
" Aren't you cold? " she asked.
" No...I'm quite warm."
" You shouldn't be out of bed. The fever will rise again..."
He stared at her for a moment to see if she realized a fever was rising and it had nothing to do with his wound. Well, in part it did. For three, going on four days and nights now he had lain in an alcohol induced, fever-laced sleep, and she had tormented him ceaselessly.
Not a minute of that sleep had been free from the image of her, the smell of her, the memory of her,...countless dreams of her...
Wendy.
This bratty upstart of a girl. And now instead of being irritated with her...or exhausted by her company...he just wanted to hold her.
He had her before she could even take a breath. Pinned to him, pressed close enough he could fell every beat of her heart. He felt her breath quicken, but she did not pull away. She protested softly and unconvincingly that he should be careful. But her grip on his arm was anything but gentle, as he sought out her lips. Just as he remembered...irresistible, intoxicating.
" You are going to bring your fever back..." she said breathlessly against him, even as her hands went around his broad back and held him closer to her.
'' Most likely..." He said against her neck.
She pulled away from him, her mouth set in that firm stubborn line that told him she was not about to relent. She was telling him firmly that she was not going to allow him to bring his fever back.
For a brief second, he wanted to seize her, throw her to the bed and prove that no fever could be hotter than his ardor. However, he was already feeling tired from merely walking from one room to the next. He looked back over his shoulder, towards his bed, then back at Wendy, with a mischievous gleam in his pale blue eyes. Instinctively she stepped back a step, gazing warily at him.
He held out his hand to her, bowing in a pompous manner that looked quite amusing in his state of undress, and when she lay her hand cautiously in his, he brought it briefly to his lips.
" Then...would you be so kind as to accompany a wounded sea-captain back to his bed...My Lady?" he asked. His voice was low and sensual, sending a thrill of pleasure through Wendy's body.
'' How do I know when your intentions are honorable?" she sighed.
" My intentions are never honorable. It saves us both the confusion" he said, pulling her against him as he began to walk back toward the bed. She pretended to be exasperated, but allowed herself to be tucked under his arm and pulled along.
" You might think of my honor." she said, teasingly.
" Oh, every thought I think is about you, my beauty. Surely you must see that my only wish is for your happiness...and the fulfillment of your every...pleasure..." he was now practically purring.
They were at the bed and he sat on the edge, standing her between his knees. Even seated, he was almost at eye level with her, and he brushed his hands through her unbound hair.
" Come...sleep beside me. " he said, not entirely as a request. Seeing that she was on the verge of speech...most likely about his wound, or the possibility of being disturbed by Smee before morning, he raised his hand to halt her.
" Only sleep beside me...I assure you that my intentions are as near to noble as they will ever be. Your honor is safe beside me..." he kissed her hand. " For tonight...at least." he added with a wicked gleam.
Blushing, she nodded, and left only long enough to blow out the lantern on the desk. She returned, and crawled hastily under the coverlet, nervous despite their previous encounter, and his word of being honorable. He beckoned her closer, so that her body was pressed tight against his and her head rested on his chest. She rubbed her cheek un-consciously in the soft hair there. When he spoke, it reverberated through her in a delightful way.
" And what has become of mine arch enemy?" he asked.
" Still locked below , Captain." she yawned.
" You know, he really was a foolish boy. If he had not cut off my hand...I would never have desired to truly dispose of him." he laughed.
She raised up. " But...I thought that you and he were always rivals."
" My dear, until you came along, Pan was the only adventure worth having in this world. It would have been a dreadfully dull life if I had killed him long ago, now wouldn't it?"
" Did he know that your quarrel was not serious?"
" I had my fair chances to murder him. He should have played more carefully, instead of being such a greedy little boy!"
" Greedy..." she mused over it. Yes. Peter was greedy. She heard his words echoing from childhood...' Oh the cleverness of me! '
Strange that she had once thought him an exciting adventure.In her memory, he just seemed tedious.
" He is at your mercy now, Captain. " she said. " As am I..." she added in the same tone Hook had used suggestively only a minute before.
" So you are..." he kissed her something fierce before letting her rest her head again.
" And...as my prisoner...you cannot deny me anything...am I right?" he leered.
" Prisoner! It seems to me as if I am your rescuer! " she exclaimed.
" Rescuer!...I was mortally wounded for you..." he sighed.
" Mortally!" she scoffed. " Why it was a mere trifle!"
" A trifle! You didn't think it was so trivial when you lay sobbing o'er my prone form." he moaned dramatically. " Besides any wound is important. I believe you owe me at least one small favor. A trivial one, of course, nothing less trivial than my wound."
" I cannot promise you a favor, until I know what it is. I have been tricked by you before."
" This will be a task enjoyable for both of us." he murmured.
" James!"
She could not see his grin in the darkness of the room.
" I fear I will never have your absolute trust.'' he sighed, bringing her palm up to his mouth.
" Not until you have earned it!"
" Cheeky girlie!" he said, tracing the lines of her palm with his tongue.
" Girlie! Who are you sir, to call me girlie?" she demanded, though in somewhat of a breathless manner.
" I am James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger." he growled, biting her fingers. " And as such, I insist that you accompany me on a voyage."
" A voyage! " she tried to sit up, but he pulled her back down. " When? Where to?"
"Yes, a voyage. A short, yet exciting voyage, as soon as that accursed doctor will allow."
" But...where to?" he could practically feel the excitement emanating from her body.
" Oh...it is a strange place, full of magnificent people, all with odd manners."
" Oh! Is it dangerous?"
" With you in my company, I can have no doubts about the perils!"
" But where is it? Does it have a name?"
" Yes it has a name. It is called..." he hesitated, allowing her to get annoyed. " I'll tell you the name, but first, a kiss."
She gave a little cry of dismay, and kissed him quickly.
" Oh no, my dearest one, you will have to do better than that! Come on, a real kiss..."
The second kiss was much better, so she took a third one. That one became rather impassioned and she forgot momentarily what her question was.
" That was very wicked of you" she whispered. " Distracting me in such a fashion."
" I?'' he scoffed. " ' T 'was your fault."
" Where are we going?" she demanded, her lips hovering close to his.
" London."
"London!" she exclaimed. He sensed that she was both surprised, happy. Then she fell sad and thoughtful for a moment.
" You aren't sending me home, are you? " she asked, suddenly.
" That was not my intention. " he answered honestly.
She kissed his cheek. No...he thought. Never his intention.
" Indeed, I was only going to escort Mr. Pan on his last journey from Neverland, and see to it myself that he is secured in a new and suitable location. However...if you would like to visit your parents...your mother, it would be an ideal time to do so."
" I would like that...to visit them. But...I do not think I would wish to stay. London will seem so dreary now..
" Good! The drearier London is...the more I am reassured that you will return with me." He said.
" I couldn't not return with you..." she teased against his ear. " And leave you all alone in Nevrland? Unthinkable!"
" Then you will accompany me to London?"
" Will you accompany me to my home? I wouldn't want to return alone."
" If you wish."
" Of course I do!" she said.
" I will be delighted." he murmured.
" As will I."
And no doubt...your mother and father will be absolutely ecstatic. He thought to himself, with not a small amount of sarcasm.