Since she had nothing better to do, Marina snoozed through the day. She'd spent the last three nights up and she was exhausted. Knowing nobody would bother her, she washed herself as much as she could. And with the water left, she soaked Castillano's stole and vest, to relief the bruises in her belly and her swollen eyelid. She was going to be thirsty, but there was nothing she could do to help it, so she ignored it.
Castillano found her behindthe bags late that afternoon, curling up under his coat, sound asleep. Shelooked unconscious from the door, so he let the cook in to get what he neededand booed him away. Then he sat at the corner where she'd sit in the morning,his back against the bags, his arms resting on his folded knees. And the childsleeping not a step away, helpless but carefree. He kept his watch in his hand,counting the minutes and forbidding his eyes to turn to her. When he deemed it safe to leave, he did so gladly.
Marina woke up in a pitch-black darkness. The candle in the lantern had burnt out. She felt almost fine, and hungry. She touched around until she found the bread and cheese Castillano had brought in the morning. And she also found a wineskin.
She let a few drops fall on her tongue, expecting the ugly taste, and smiled. It was water. Fresh water. She eased her thirst and grabbed the food. She left half of it for the rats that had already dropped by to try it. Maybe if their bellies were full they wouldn't come to bite her.
At the main cabin, Lorenzo was surprised when Castillano commented he didn't plan to visit the riving that night.
"If you got bored of the bitch, remember my men are still waiting to try her," he said, laughing.
"Not pounding her ten times a day doesn't mean I got bored."
"Maybe it means you're not in shape," said Alonso, making Lorenzo laugh.
"Or maybe she can't take any more. Our Lion here is too fiery for her."
Castillano laughed with them, concealing his relief when they didn't insist. Relief that lasted only until the cook came to pick up the dinner service and suggested he needed 'some little things' from the stern locker.
"Duty calls," teased Lorenzo.
Castillano emptied his glass already on his feet. "And we King's men never shy away from duty."
"What about the dessert?"
"Send it to the riving. Exercise always makes me hungry."
He headed below, cursing the cook's family up to five generations. He didn't want to see Marina again. Not so soon. He'd thought he could stay away at least until the next day, when he would have to bring her some food. For some reason he wasn't inclined to explore, her proximity made him feel awkward. It had nothing to do with his breaking every rule to protect her. It was related to the fact that he couldn't help understanding her. And respecting her. That made him plain sick.
He opened the door to the dark locker and grabbed one of the guards' lamps. He saw Marina's hands showing on top of the bags. Then her hair, and her face down to her eyes.
"Playing hide and seek, bitch?" he asked mockingly from the open door, letting the cook in. "Like that would spare you!"
The expectable choir of curses in eight different languages rose behind him. Marina stood up slowly, a worried look at the open door.
"What is it, bitch? Want to see your friends? Want me to leave the door open to show them what I've taught you?"
Marina didn't know what the Spaniard was up to, but she needed her men to know she was fine. Maybe she could scream something, or let them see her. She took a hesitating step toward the door, where Castillano smirked as if daring her to try. Her men were shouting at her now, telling her to be strong, to not give up, that soon they'd make those bastards pay. The cook hurried out and she heard a different noise. Were they being beaten for shouting?
She ran to the door. Castillano stopped her with an arm across her chest. When she fought to look out, his arm circled her waist and he spun around to keep her inside the locker. The pirates went crazy, pulling from their chains and throwing kicks at the soldiers. Marina struggled but Castillano held her back. A cabin boy came running with a generous slice of cake on a china dish. Castillano took it while he kept Marina kicking with her feet in the air and punching his arm and shoulder. She screamed something. Then he flashed a daring smirk at Morris and kicked the door closed.
He let go of Marina to turn the key. She stepped back, panting.
"Let's hope that was enough of a show," he said in a casual way, making sure the door window was locked. "What did you tell them?"
"That I'm fine and this is a fake," she replied, still agitated.
He smirked again. "German, right? Smart. None of us speaks German." He tried the cake and nodded, savoring it. "Hope that would do to calm your lover down." He handed her the dish. "Here, try. It's delicious."
He saw Marina's puzzled frown and guessed what it was about. He nodded to the door. "Your lover, boyfriend, whatever."
Marina's face reflected more confusion, not less. "Who?"
"The blond giant that swears he's going to kill me every time I walk by him."
"Morris! He's not my lover!"
The confusion wave flooding the locker swelled upon Castillano. "He's your husband?"
Marina shook her head, stepping back as to put more distance from such a question.
"He's not?"
She shook her head again, looking him up and down, as if wondering if he'd gone mental. "No!" She lowered her eyes, tugging at her cuffs. "I never—"
Castillano left the dish on the bags and stepped closer, refusing to believe what she suggested. "You never what?"
"I never— You know what I mean."
"No, Velazquez, I don't."
She glanced at him and he noticed she'd blushed up to her ears. He leaned in a little forward, to better heed the answer he knew he didn't want to hear.
"I've never been with a man," the girl muttered.
Castillano straightened up and stepped back, a hand on his hip and the other on his chin—because he'd stopped it before reaching his mouth.
"Never?" he insisted.
She shook her head yet again. He was grateful she kept her eyes down, because he didn't know what she would see on his face.
"A touch, a kiss?"
His eyes widened like grapefruits when hers came up only enough to glance at the mizzenmast. Castillano opened his mouth and closed it without a sound. He breathed deep, pacing around the locker, and handed the dish over to her from several steps away, avoiding eye contact.
She took it and hurried to her hideaway behind the bags. He saw her take a hungry mouthful and cut a third of the slice. She put it on the wooden dish with the leftovers of bread and cheese and took all of it to the other end of the locker.
"May I know what the hell are you doing now?" he asked in an exasperated whisper.
"It's for the rats, so they won't come bite me in my sleep."
Castillano covered his eyes, sighing. He heard her come and stretched out his arm to stop her. Marina waited in silence for him to face her. He signaled her to sit down between the pile of bags around the mast and the pile against the hull, away from the door. She did so. Castillano sat down in front of her as he added yet another line to his list—Marina's frown, embarrassed yet worried over him.
He breathed deep once more, but the air in the locker didn't feel enough to calm him down. He tried to find the best words to express himself, to not give room for any misunderstanding.
Since he was taking his sweet time to speak, Marina wolfed down the cake while she waited.
"So you've never had any kind of physical contact with a man," he said at last.
Marina shrugged, swallowing to reply, "A hug, a kiss in the cheek or the hair. I grew up surrounded by my father's and my uncle's friends. But if you mean intercourse, no, Captain, never."
"Not even a kiss." He noticed her face. "A real kiss."
"No, Captain," she muttered, blushing slightly again.
"Then what's between you and the behemoth?"
"Morris? He's my best friend. My father raised him, he taught me to walk. We're like siblings."
Castillano raised his eyebrows, not willing to buy it so easily. "But he's sort of handsome. If he took a bath, that is."
Marina stiffened. "You wouldn't look good either after three days with no sleep, three battles, fixing a ship and being chained in the hold. Morris is the best-looking man in Tortuga, Captain."
He had to swallow a scoff at the way she'd taken offense. "Well, maybe you don't feel anything for him, but he—"
Marina's soft chuckle took him aback. "Morris likes them pale and blonde like him, Captain. As for how he feels about me, I'm his little pearl. He'd lock me up in a nunnery if he could, to keep me from any harm."
Castillano only nodded. He checked his watch, and was about to say it was time for him to leave when he noticed the trace of cream by the girl's mouth. He pointed at it and then touched his own face. And rolled his eyes when she tried to clean it with the tip of her tongue. He waited for her to close her mouth, leaned forward and brushed the cream away with his thumb.
"Time to go," he said, taking his thumb to his mouth.
They stood up and she gave him the empty dish. They were only one step away from each other.
"Watch your water. I don't know if I'll be able to come before noon. Do you need me to bring you anything?"
"No, Captain, thank you. I'll be fine. You've already done too much for me."
Her smile made him feel a sudden urge to run away from there, but she touched his arm, stopping him.
"How much longer?" she asked.
"A day and a half," he replied, knowing what she meant.
She looked away and rubbed her own arms. "A day and a half."
He remembered his urge to run away and gave in to it.