TWENTY-SIX

It is by some true miracle of God that I awake again.

My body aches, my mind ringing in my skull, but I am alive, which is far more than I had expected to be.

It takes but a moment to realize what has awoken me.

With a tremendous effort, my eyes focus on the four faces hovering over me. Jasper, Alice, Captain Thorne, and…

Isabella's eyes are wide, deep pools as she gazes down at me. It is difficult to think with my head pounding as such, but some part of me wonders if that is genuine concern I see in her eyes.

I see someone's mouth move, and I glance at Captain Thorne, realizing that though I can see them all, I cannot focus enough to make out their words.

"Edward?"

Very slowly, the roaring in my ears subsides enough for me to hear them.

"What?" I croak.

A few people let out breaths of relief. "You gave us quite a fright," Captain Thorne says, frowning at me as if I am at fault for being injured.

"What happened?" I try sitting up and immediately feel hands helping to steady me.

"You were nearly done for," Jasper says. "We saw you go down, but before that brute could finish you off…" Jasper's voice trails off and he looks up at Isabella. The piratess glances at me, and I realize she has saved my life.

"It wasn't more than anyone else would do," she says, surprisingly modest. My mouth is dry, and I'm not sure what to make of these events.

I blink, realizing very belatedly, that the sun is up. How long have I been out?

"Let's get him inside," Captain Thorne commands. "He is in need of aid."

Before I'm quite ready for it, Jasper is hoisting me up, wrapping my arm around his shoulder so that he can help walk. The party moves me across the ship, surprising me by taking me into the Captain's quarters.

Inside is dark and cool, and my tired eyes are relieved by the change.

"Place him there," Captain Thorne says, motioning to a settee. Jasper guides me across the room, setting me down on the firm cushions. My head is spinning from moving, and I'm becoming more and more aware of the injuries I'm carrying. I can hear everyone speaking, but my mind is too sluggish to follow them.

"Here, drink this."

I look up to see Isabella holding out a cup to me. I take it, unquestioningly, and drink it down, relieved when it's water.

It does a world of good to me, and already I can feel my mind starting to clear.

"Thank you," I croak. "And…" I swallow hard. "Thank you… for saving my life."

Isabella takes the cup from me, refilling it from a silver pitcher. She returns to me, offering the cup again. I waste no time in drinking it down.

"I think I should have been quite disappointed to lose one such as you," Isabella says softly. I look up at her, but her usual tone of arrogance and amusement is gone, leaving me to wonder what exactly it is she means.

Before I can dwell on it, Isabella is taking the cup from my hands and setting it back down on a silver tray. She turns to me. "Remove your tunic. I need to tend to your wounds."

I realize as she says this, at some point everyone left, leaving the two of us alone. I'm not sure how exactly I feel about that, but I do know now is no time to get fussy about help. I reach up, wincing as I pull off my tunic. As soon as it's off, I feel exposed. I wish I had some rum.

Isabella steps toward me, her gaze undistracted as she takes in my injuries. One upon my left arm, another slight nick on my chest. Truly, most of my injury happened when I fell to unconsciousness.

Isabella gets to work patching up the cut on my left arm. Her movements are practiced, efficient, and careful. Certainly, all things I believed her to be. The strangest part of it all is that her smart mouth stays quiet.

"What happened?" I ask her, to break the silence of the room.

Her eyes flicker toward me before returning to my wounds. "After you fell, I got to the brute in time to stop him from killing you," she says softly. "Meanwhile, Rosalie and Emmett managed to board the pirate vessel. I don't think the pirates banked on invading another band of…" Her eyes flicker up to meet mine again and I smirk.

"Sailors with unscrupulous morals?" I ask, my voice dry. Isabella lets out a small laugh and nods.

I try to ignore the way my heart stutters when I hear her laugh.

"Precisely," she agrees. "We fought as dirty as they did, and they were unprepared to take us on in that way. It wasn't long before Rosalie had gained control of the situation."

I consider that.

"I suppose it was then our benefit to sail with such companions," I admit.

Isabella's eyes meet mine, seeming to wonder if I truly mean the words.

"Aye," she agrees quietly.

I realize, very belatedly, that she is leaning into me, her face mere inches from my own. I recall the last thought that flashed through my mind before I went unconscious, and my mind begins to harden.

I do not want to kiss this witch.

Isabella shifts back, seeming to tune into my mood.

"Are you done yet?" I ask, wanting to remove myself from her presence.

Isabella's face changes, the warmth in her eyes dying away. "Nearly," she says, her voice cool. I can't help the petulant sigh that escapes out of me.

Isabella continues to work on my arm before she turns her attention to the wound on my chest.

"It's nothing," I protest. She leans into me anyway, and for a moment, I'm overtaken by the soft scent of lavender. How she can smell like anything but sweat and salt is beyond me.

She leans over me, and I can feel her hair tickle my chest.

Reflexively, my hands lift to push her away. They land on her hips, and I'm surprised by the softness under my palms. Isabella is a hard and hardy woman; it surprises me to feel she is like other women under her clothes and sharp tongue.

"Captain." Isabella's voice is a whisper, and I look up, her face so close to my own that I stop breathing. My hands flex against her hips, and I see her tongue come out, wetting her lips.

It is my undoing. I cannot take another moment of the tension building and snapping between us.

My body bows, like a sapling in a storm, unable to resist her anymore.

Isabella's lips meet mine, and she tastes like ocean salt and strawberries of all things.

It's a combination that would bring me to my knees if I were standing.

Her hands shift, and before I can even take a breath, she is sliding onto my lap, her body pressing into mine. My fingers scrape at her tunic, sliding up to tangle in her long tresses. She lets out a moan that makes me shudder, and I feel her body shift over mine, pressing down against my lap in a way that makes my breath hitch.

A small moment of reason returns to me, and I wrench my mouth from hers, dragging in a breath that tastes of lavender and strawberry.

"No," I croak. "No, I loathe you."

Isabella's grin is wicked.

"That's what's going to make it so good," she says, her voice like a purr as she rolls over me again.

I groan, and my hands fly down to her hips again, whether to hoist her off me or hold her closer, I cannot tell. My lips find hers once more, locked in an aggressive dance for control. Her tongue meets mine, and I shudder again, wanting more taste of her.

She breaks our kiss, long enough to pull the tunic over her head. My eyes widen as I take her in. She is wearing nothing under it, absolutely nothing.

I want to be horrified, but I also cannot help my hands from traveling up her torso, my palms carefully cupping the perfect weight of her breasts. She moans, leaning into my touch.

"Do you always dress so inappropriately?" I demand.

Isabella laughs, and for some reason, it's a sound that moves through me, all the way to my groin.

"Wouldn't that be so scandalous of me?" she teases.

I run a thumb over the soft pink tips of her breasts, and she lets out a low moan. I have no other thought but of the need to taste her.

Leaning forward, I take one breast into my mouth, sucking against her flesh. Her hands tangle in my hair, and I wince when she brushes the bruise on my skull, but it doesn't slow either of us down. Isabella is writhing on top of me, her hips a seductive dance drawing desire out of me so fierce, I'm nearly blind with it.

I bite lightly against her skin, wanting to punish her for her seduction.

She gasps, but to my surprise, only presses me further into her bosom. "Please, darling, don't tease me." She moans as my hand works upon her other breast, pinching and kneading.

I'm dizzy with hunger, lost to the scent, taste, and feel of her. I tear my mouth from her breast, lavishing the other one, and her hands tug at my hair, her body sliding even closer above me.

Isabella lets out a delicious string of sounds, each one solidifying in me a hunger for her that cannot be contained.

I wrench my mouth from her skin, and she lets out a mewl of protest.

"I think it time," I growl, my voice gruff and low. "That you show me exactly what that wicked mouth of yours does."

Her eyes focus on me, and the smile in her gaze is sinful.

"Aye aye, Captain."