DOGS. Legacy Saga II

11

The golden trail of the moon shimmered across the Gulf of Campeche in the summer night. Marina left the cabin and walked down the deck in no hurry. Her eyes slid up to the maintop, and she sighed, thinking of the sight she'd have from up there on such a clear night. She hadn't found Castillano when she reached the bow, which surprised her. She rested her arm on the gunwale, her eyes on the golden sparkling of the moonlight around the brigantine. The last thing she wanted was going back to the cabin, because she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep.

She managed to sigh. The corset wouldn't let her lean forward to rest her chin on her hands. And that ship felt like a lot of dead wood, put together to keep its cargo afloat. She wondered about the Phantom. She trusted Morris would be a fly on old Lombard's neck, pressing him to finish her ship. And when she counted the days, she was surprised to realize it wouldn't be long until the Phantom was in shape to sail again. As soon as they got to Campeche, she needed to send a message to the smuggler in Puerto Plata, so Morris would know where to find them. She trusted her ship could make it from Tortuga to Campeche in under a week—or Lombard would explain himself to her sword.

"Have you ever been down here?"

Marina stepped back, startled. Then she approached the bow again and looked out and down, at the shadows the voice had come from, under the bowsprit. A shadow showed from the peak and the moonlight touched Castillano's fair mane.

"It's a good place when it's hot," he said, grasping a stay to climb back to the deck. "And to be alone."

He joined Marina in a heartbeat. The girl studied him, trying to guess his mood. He took the Bible from his sash and gave it to her.

"Thank you."

She took it, nodding, and lowered her eyes.

"I..." His hesitation made her look up at him again. "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

Marina's lips curled up out of their own will. Her hands followed suit and dropped the Bible to take Castillano's hand. As he froze, she wrapped his hand in hers and looked down at it, her thumb caressing his knuckles. She would've liked to say something, but an inconvenient lump in her throat wouldn't let her.

Castillano's blue eyes widened like grapefruits when she took his hand to her lips. "Velazquez?" he muttered, a chill running down his back at the gentle, wet touch on his skin.

"I—I'm so sorry, Captain," she whispered, keeping his hands by her lips. "I know I've only caused you countless pain and hardships. If only you'd allow me..." She shook her head slightly. "You're too generous for the laws of men. And too just. But not to yourself. How am I to show you that you deserve another chance?"

Castillano's free hand came up to stroke the shadowy cheek and make her face him, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to meet her eyes. Those black eyes that filled his dreams. He felt her quiver in his touch. Marina kept her head low and moved it forward. Before he could even think about it, he took the step between them and let her rest her forehead on his chest, still holding his hand. He kissed her hair before he knew it. So he looked up and around. Anything to steal away from that moment.

The night watch looked like enjoying the show.

"They're watching us, Velazquez," he whispered.

"Up theirs."

Castillano felt the gurgling of laughter scratching his throat and let out a muffled chuckle. Marina echoed it. A moment later, they were struggling not to laugh out loud.

Keeping his hand in hers, still chuckling, Castillano picked up the Bible and put it on the hawser roll. Then he made her turn her back to the rest of the ship and stood by her side, their hands together on the gunwale.

The moon climbed and shrank in the sky while they stood there in silence, feeling perfectly comfortable like that, there, together.

Until Marina straightened up. She was about to step back but Castillano didn't let go of her hand, and his look asked where did she think she was going.

"I wouldn't want to deprive you of your last night at sea for weeks," she said softly.

"You said you'd stay in Campeche until the jury calls me back, right?" Marina nodded. "Then it's also your last night at sea for weeks."

The girl frowned, facing him close to horror. Castillano smiled —she hadn't thought about it. Marina closed her eyes.

"You're right," she murmured. "Three more weeks of tight dresses and silly shoes in this heat?"

"I'm afraid so. Maybe longer, if the commissioner or the jury don't call me right away."

"Can't we just run away tomorrow?"

"And missing a chance to see you looking so good? I think I'm waiting on the jury."

Marina froze in surprise. Considering Castillano's nature, she suspected that was the most gallant and charming praise he'd ever said to a woman.

And she was right.

He turned to the sea again, a mild smile refusing to let go of his face. He didn't know when he'd started fancying her, and he blamed it on the harsh isolation he was going through. Even though he'd seen her in pretty unconventional situations, he'd never felt attracted to her any more than expected due to her beauty. But he'd been forced to face it when he'd met her again in Veracruz.

What surprised him the most was that it wasn't a simple, regular whim. Or not only that. He wasn't interested in sneaking to the hold with her, rolling up her skirt and having her against a cribbing. No, it was all levels of worse. At that exact moment, he didn't fancy anything more than keep holding her hand as they gazed upon the sea together. And he would've liked to know that in time he'd kiss those lips he hoped nobody had stolen already. And that one night, he'd lay her down on a bed with the finest linen sheets, and he'd help her discover the pleasure their bodies could offer them.

Which made him feel like the ultimate moron.

Especially because the noose that would greet him back to Veracruz in only a month didn't exactly suit the in time bit of his ravings.

However, for the moment he had exactly what he wanted —her hand in his as they gazed upon the sea. So maybe he was a complete moron, but a happy one.

Especially when she leaned to rest her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"I would never insult you with my pity, Captain," she said after a long pause, feeling an unknown calm that had a well-known source: him, by her side. "I admire you too much to pity you."

Castillano pursed his lips. He would've liked to think she'd said that to sweeten his ear and get away with what she intended. But by now he already knew that was not the case. And while he pondered what he should answer to the Pearl of the Caribbean's admiration, he couldn't let that peace offer slip.

"And you haven't caused me only pain and hardship, child," he replied. "Yes, your sword and your knee are dreadful, but let's not exaggerate."

She chuckled and pressed his strong hand, that seemed to be the perfect cradle for hers.

Their eyes went back to the sea together.