A Pirate's Possession by Michelle Beattie Page A

life in the orphanage, and again in her brief marriage. She’d promised herself she’d never live that way again and yet here she was.
    Nate made it sound as though she had a choice, but they both knew she didn’t. She either had to hold her tongue in order to acquire a share of what she felt was rightfully hers or she’d lose it altogether.
    There wasn’t a choice to be made.
    â€œHave you made your decision?”
    Go to Hell, she thought, and take all your money with you. She couldn’t believe she’d wished, just last night, that he’d take her into his arms. Well, she wouldn’t make that mistake again, but it didn’t change her predicament.
    She nodded.
    â€œPerfect,” Vincent said, his face being the only one of the three around the table that looked even partially happy.
    â€œBe sure, Claire. Once we set out, there’s no turning back.”
    She met his hard gaze with one of her own.
    â€œI’m not going anywhere.”
    â€œFine then,” Nate answered. “Let’s get to work.”

Eight
    Work was exactly what it turned into and it ate through all of that day and most of the next. Vincent and Nate took turns at the helm and on deck. Claire spent most of the time in Nate’s cabin trying to decipher the map. She continued to sleep under the lifeboat. She and Nate had formed a kind of truce as they worked on the map, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable sleeping in his cabin, even if it was when he was on deck.
    It was simply too intimate a thing to consider. It was already unnerving spending so much time with him after all these years, talking to him and remembering—despite her efforts not to—the times they’d shared. Sleeping in his bed, something she’d dreamed of often after he’d left the orphanage with the promise of returning, would make fighting the memories almost impossible. And she would fight them. Giving in to them would weaken her and she wouldn’t allow that to happen.
    Dusk had fallen outside the small window. Thin trails of black smoke wove upward as Nate lit the thick candles. Claire watched his face warm with the glow of flame and felt a tug in her belly. No, no , she thought. No. She forced her gaze back to the map, but no sudden inspiration came to her. It was getting harder and harder to keep up her hopes with the daunting task at hand. There were so many possibilities, and they simply didn’t have a specific enough point to begin their search.
    â€œHaving the complete map was supposed to make things easier,” Claire muttered. Her eyes burned from studying it and she closed them momentarily. The relief was immediate and wonderful.
    â€œPerhaps,” Vincent said, sliding the map from under Claire’s fingers, “we should concentrate on the reason the treasure was never recovered.”
    Claire blinked her eyes open. “Because nobody’s had the map.”
    Vincent humored her with a grin. “I realize that, dear, but I don’t mean recently. What I am referring to is if the Spanish wanted this treasure badly enough to crash a perfectly good vessel for it, then create a map and hide it, why didn’t they ever go back for it?”
    â€œOr why did they bury it to begin with?” Nate added, taking his usual seat across from her. “Once the treasure was off the Santa Francesca , they had nothing stopping them from taking it directly to Spain.”
    â€œThere’s always the threat of pirates,” Claire reminded them. “Pirate attacks aren’t limited to ships known to carry treasure. They aren’t exactly a discriminatory lot after all.”
    Vincent coughed. Nate smiled, his eyes filled with humor when they met Claire’s. “That would depend on the pirate, I suppose,” he said.
    â€œWhat I mean is that perhaps if we knew why they buried it to begin with, we’d have a better idea of where to look,” Vincent