With the passing of each new day, I remember increasingly less about my life before becoming a pirate. In just under two months, the orphan girl from Panama pretending to be an admiral's daughter has – by the grace of God – turned into a gold-stealing thief betrothed to the former Pirate King, sailing to America with a vessel full of buccaneers.

Staring out the window at the frothy waves in the ship's wake, I smile at the memories. The silver brush in my hand – one of the many new gifts from my beloved over the last few weeks – glides through my dark tresses until it snags on a knot.

"Ouch," I mutter before untangling the obstacle with a sigh. This nightly ritual isn't the result of vanity, but necessity. I'm no longer a prisoner, nor even a guest on board the Phoenix Rising, but rather an accepted member of her crew. I mostly tend to my companions' ills and injuries, but I also help out wherever I can. These tasks – like scrubbing the deck, washing dishes, or mending sails – don't care that they leave my hands blistered or my hair an unruly mess after a whole day under a kerchief or hat.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now." Cade enters the cabin after his late-night shift at the helm. He's already undressing as he crosses the room with his long strides, tossing his gray jacket on the floor before unbuttoning his shirt.

These actions have been easier lately because his usual weapons – the dual cutlasses and pistols – are still safely tucked away in the wooden chest at the foot of the bed. There hasn't been a need for them since we set sail from the Bahamas in the company of more than a dozen ships from His Majesty's Royal Navy.

"I wanted to wait up for you, with tomorrow being the big day and all." I place the brush on the sill, but before I can turn toward him, Cade's already behind me.

"Are you still worried?" he whispers into my ear, and my breathing – as per the usual reaction to his nearness – accelerates.

 I close my eyes and lean into him, letting my body rest against his, as he wraps his arms around me. "You know I am, and I won't stop until we're sailing eastward again."

He sighs. "You do realize that your actions right now – no matter how noble they may be – will actually put us in more danger tomorrow?"

I try to face him, but Cade's grip is so tight, I'm forced to maintain my position. "How so?" I grimace while watching the moonlight bounce off the small peaks on the water's surface.

"You're a welcome distraction, don't misunderstand." He chuckles. "But if you wanted your captain to be fully rested and alert when we attack the Comte de Grasse's fleet at the Chesapeake tomorrow, then you would have done better to have been neatly tucked under those covers already."

I tilt my head to get a clearer look at his face. Just as I expected, he's smiling. "So, I'm the evil temptress, then?" I wrinkle my nose. "Perhaps you'd like to call me Eve and just blame all of your sins on me, sir?"

He squeezes me even tighter, pressing his bare chest against the thin fabric of my nightgown. "Aye. That would certainly make things easier, wouldn't it? But I'm afraid I'm going to have to take personal responsibility for all of my misdeeds. Including what I'm about to do now."

"Oh." My surprise slips out with a single syllable as Cade lowers his head and presses his lips against the base of my neck. I even jump a little as his whiskers – now grown into a full beard – scratch my skin.

He plants several more warm kisses upward toward my ear, before drawing away. "Forgive me, love. Just say the word, and I'll shave it all off."

I pivot around and touch his jaw line with one hand. "No, of course not." I shake my head. "It's just a bit of a tickle. I'm getting used to it."

He doesn't argue, but looks at me skeptically, so I move my hand upward to just below his left eye. Tracing the line where a scar runs underneath the dark blonde stubble, I smile. "Besides, I know why you prefer it, so please don't do anything just because you think it pleases me."

The mischievous creases beside his eyes that I've come to know so well appear. "Hmm. Are you sure about that exact choice of words?"

Without waiting for me to answer, he pulls me close and clamps his mouth on mine. I automatically rest one hand on his chest, while pushing my fingers of the other past his ear and through his hair. Our tongues – hot, wet, and eager – first chase and then caress each other in this now familiar dance.

I don't know if I will ever get to the point where I feel I could get enough of this man, but I do know it won't be soon. His mere presence makes every part of my body tingle, and his touch drives me wild. I think I must have the same effect on him because his passion continues to be relentless.

Struggling for breath, I throw my head back to give him access to my neck.  He takes it willingly, and we both moan in pleasure at the mutual satisfaction from the act. When he slides his hands down my hips, I instinctively grab onto his shoulders. As he cradles my thighs to lift me, I pull myself upward and wrap my legs around his waist.

After raising his head momentarily to locate the bed, he takes a step toward it and sits. Although he tries to remain upright, I playfully push him into a reclining position on the bed and comfortably straddle his body.

"Hmm. This is new." He grins.

I lean forward, holding my face just inches above his. "If you'd rather sleep, Captain—"

He pulls me down and with the momentum, rolls sideways until he's on top of me.

"I'd choose you over sleep any day. Damn the consequences," he says firmly before kissing me again.

I reciprocate while trying to suppress a smile. I've never been so happy in my life as I am when I'm with him.

I freeze.

This is too good to be true.

"What's the matter?" Cade draws away at the hesitation, and his tired eyes search my face for an explanation.

Looking upward, I bite my lip. "You really should rest." I lie, not wanting to reveal my insecurities.

He smiles and brushes a lock of hair from my forehead. After gently touching my lips with his one more time, he looks into my eyes and whispers, "Marry me, Ana."

I chuckle at his unexpected earnestness. "Have you already forgotten I said yes weeks ago?"

Cade sighs. "Of course not, but I want you to marry me now."

"Now?" I push myself up to a sitting position, forcing him to move off me.

He kneels beside me and rakes his fingers through his disheveled hair. "Well, not quite now. Tomorrow to be more precise. I can temporarily transfer the captain's duties to Mister Smythe and he can perform the ceremony—"

"Absolutely not." I shake my head while drawing my knees up to my chest.

Cade's eyes widen. "Why not? I thought you'd be pleased at the prospect of becoming my wife sooner rather than later."

I continue to shake my head, my hair brushing my shoulders in the process. "Not under these circumstances. Not like this."

He moves toward me, reaching for my hand. "But darling, think about what could happen tomorrow."

I pull away and jump out of the bed. "That's exactly what I'm thinking about!" I begin to shout as my emotions escalate. "You're finally realizing what I've been saying ever since you decided to enter this war. Fighting with an ill-prepared crew out of national pride is a horrible idea, and things could go very badly tomorrow."

Cade gets off the bed and stands, as well. "Indeed, we could have losses, but then why not marry me while you still have the chance?" He says more emphatically, and even his face shows an increased agitation.

Balling my fists, I groan to keep from outright screaming. "Because I will not get married just to give you peace of mind for making the wrong decision," I yell.

His face turns red. "I am not asking for you to appease my conscience, Ana, because I have nothing to feel guilty about," he shouts back. Pausing to take a deep breath, he continues with more reserve. "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to keep that commitment to you even if luck isn't on our side tomorrow."

He steps toward me, but I put up my hands in opposition. "Call it what you will, but it's still the same to me. And my answer remains unchanged."

Grabbing the jacket at my feet, I run out of the cabin so blindly I almost run into a sailor in the hallway.

"Evening, Miss." Charlie tips his hat to me while holding the exterior door open.

I avoid his gaze as I slip Cade's jacket over my nightgown and hurry onto the deck. Stopping at the railings, I hold onto the wood beam with both hands to steady myself. Even so, my whole body shakes from frustration.

Closing my eyes, I slowly inhale the cool, night air to clear my mind. As my nerves gradually calm, I become more aware of my environment and pull the jacket closer around me.

Cade's familiar scent fills my nostrils, and my previous worries immediately return. Stomping my feet, I let out a helpless scream.  

"Are ya' all right, Miss?" Charlie asks from behind. I had forgotten his presence, and the flush of embarrassment floods my face.

I sigh and turn toward him. "Thank you for your concern, Mister Roberts. Although I am not all right, I'm quite certain there's nothing you can do to help."

He frowns and walks closer. "Forgive me fer being so forward, but perhaps there is."

I look up at him with doubt. "How so?" I purse my lips.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhearin' yer . . . uhm, discussion with the captain, and I must say, the man makes a fair point."

I scoff. Charlie is several years older than Cade, and he's usually quite levelheaded. This time, however, I couldn't disagree with him more. "I'm not surprised you choose to side with your superior, Mister Roberts. You've always proven yourself to be loyal to Captain Kincade. However, I am confused by how you think this revelation would make me feel better."

He smiles, fully displaying his boyish charm. "Aye. I s'pose it would appear daft of me to suggest it, seeing as how ya' know nothin' of me."

He's caught my interest, and I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, really? What do I need to know, Mister Roberts?"

Leaning his forearms on the railing beside me, he stares at the open ocean. After clearing his throat, he begins. "I don't usually speak of private matters, but truth be told, I know exactly what the captain is ponderin' since I went through that myself."

I stare intently at his profile. "You refer to an affair of the heart?"

"Aye, Miss Ana." He turns to me, and his dejected expression pains my soul. "Her name is Molly, and she's the kindest, most beautiful woman I could ever imagine. We've known each other since we were wee kids, and I've probably loved her just as long." He wrinkles his forehead and sighs. "Comin' from Whitechapel, I never had hope of being able to provide for her proper enough, though. The only steady work I could have gotten was in the local tannery and slaughterhouse, but I had the stomach for neither. So I had to take day jobs or find seasonal work."

I put a hand on his. "But if she loves you as much you do her, surely that wouldn't matter?"

He strains a smile. "That's mighty kind of you, Miss, but love doesn't put food on the table." He shakes his head. "No, the only chance a lad like me had to make somethin' of myself was to take to the sea. So, I went down to the London docks and found the Phoenix. Captain Kincade was setting off on his own maiden voyage and kindly took me along."

"I don't understand." I shrug my shoulders. "You became a pirate to be able to support Molly, but you've been away from her for most of the last five years. Has that really benefitted either of you?"

Charlie nods. "More than ya' can imagine. Ya' see, the last thing I did before leavin' home – perhaps for the very last time – was take Molly to the parish church and marry 'er." His lip quivers at the memory. "Only the priest and God were witness, but that was enough for us."

I snuggle deeper into Cade's jacket, but a chill still runs through me from this sad tale.

Charlie continues. "I reckon ya' may judge me fer leavin' my wife behind, but I take her my share of the bounty whenever we're on English shores. Plus, if I were to stop comin' home due to some misfortune, she could continue to live in my house until her death. As a widow, the crown would also provide for her. If she wasn't married, she'd get neither."                

I shake my head. "I would never judge you, Mister Roberts. God's the only one who can do that. But I'm sure even He would be proud of your selflessness in this situation." I touch his arm one more time before stepping away. "Thank you for sharing your story, but I must get back inside. Good night, Mister Roberts."

He nods. "Good night, Miss Ana. If I may ask, though. Should we be preparin' for a wedding tomorrow?"

I continue to walk away, but glance over my shoulder. "No, Mister Roberts. Tomorrow's reserved for battle, not a celebration."