Falling for the Pirate by Amber Lin

empty.
    “I don’t want a doll in my bed,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Her passivity, he meant. He didn’t like it.
    “Would you rather I fought you?”
    He stared at her, incredulous. “No, damn you. That isn’t what I—oh, hell.”
    Well, then, she honestly didn’t know what he wanted. Which wasn’t a surprise, since she hadn’t ever understood him, not on any level.
    She had the sensation of a feather floating down, of falling back into her skin, moving around, testing her own body. Wherever she had gone before, she had returned now—and she studied him with open curiosity.
    “I thought you wanted me to…to lay with you,” she said haltingly.
    He looked cross. “I’m asking why you would allow it.”
    “Because I owe you.”
    “For what, exactly?”
    “I’ve told you.” She spoke slowly, patient with him since he didn’t seem to understand. “On the roof, remember? For the clothing and the food. And for the doctor. I hadn’t realized you’d brought a doctor the first day, so that’s two visits. I don’t know how much it all costs, but this…is the only thing I have to give you in return.”
    “Don’t forget the cocoa.”
    She blinked. “Yes. And that.”
    His eyes were solemn in the shadows of the hallway. “You’re telling the truth,” he said flatly. “About losing your memory.”
    “Of course I’m telling the truth. Why would I lie to you about that?” He said nothing. “If I had somewhere else to go, wouldn’t I go there instead of staying here to be ravished by you?”
    He laughed, suddenly. She had learned he had a tendency to do that—particularly at times that were the least appropriate.
    “There won’t be any ravishing,” he said.
    “No?”
    “Not tonight,” he amended.
    “Captain Bowen,” she began brusquely, not sure what would follow.
    “God, I almost raped you.” He shook his head. “Ravished you. Accepted payment. Whatever you call it, I took you, and I didn’t care.”
    Well, he hadn’t actually taken her…yet. It didn’t seem wise to point that out.
    “I understand how the world works,” she said—to absolve him—instead.
    He chuckled darkly. “Then perhaps you can explain it to me, love. I certainly don’t understand. Why are you here?” He sounded pained again. “In my house? You! Of all people.”
    That seemed unnecessarily harsh. She couldn’t help whatever inherent faults she had. “I was trying to repay you, if you’ll recall.”
    “Go to sleep, Julia,” he said, world-weary and bemused.
    “Well, all right. Although…”
    “I can ravish you tomorrow, if need be. For tonight, go to sleep.”

Chapter Seven
    Nate went to the place he always did when he needed to think, Nightingale . The ship lay quietly on the water, its silhouette framing the moonlight in angles. Bennett sat on the railing, feet dangling over the side.
    “Halt! Who goes there?” he asked, then snickered.
    “Shouldn’t you be in your bunk?”
    “Not tonight, Cap’n. Quartermaster said if I was so set on stayin’ awake, I could make myself useful. I’m standing guard.”
    The last was imbued with a furtive pride, careful not to show its head or be slapped down. Nate would have preferred the boy sleep. Whatever he learned in his lessons would have the greatest impact on his life, and he couldn’t focus if he was tired.
    Then again, maybe a chance at real responsibility would provide the boy with what empty reprimands could not—discipline.
    “A lookout,” Nate mused, “must be ready to sound the alarm at any sign of trouble.”
    “I will, Cap’n.”
    “But more than that, he’s the ship’s first line of defense.” He glanced back at the empty dock. “If we were under siege right this minute, who would be responsible for protecting the ship and crew?”
    “I would, Cap’n, and I wouldn’t let nobody on board.”
    Nate eyed the boy, with his shirt an inch too short and his hair askew. Bennett must have sensed his doubt, because