Capture The Wind by Virginia Brown

a scourge of the seas. What would you think if you were Miss Angela?”
    “I’d think it would be wise to keep my sharp tongue firmly between my teeth instead of prodding the man who held my fate in his hands. Prod the wrong man and situations can grow nasty.”
    “Yes, we’ve both experienced that consequence. Miss Angela, I fear, has yet to suffer any graver consequence than missing her afternoon tea.”
    Kit reflected on that for a moment. Turk’s casual comment presented an attractive idea. He smiled slightly. “Perhaps I should educate her.”
    Turk took another sip of the Japanese tea he favored.
    “There are some educations that are beneficial, while others are best averted. Do you think it considerate to educate her in that respect?”
    “Not considerate, perhaps.” Kit met Turk’s gaze. “But necessary if she stays another night aboard this ship.”
    “I see that you are not to be dissuaded from that end.”
    “No. I think that Miss Angela Whomever should learn the vagaries of pirate captains when unwisely prodded.”
    “Do you.” Turk applied his knife industriously to the slice of dried apple, dissected it neatly, then speared the individual bites with the tip. After a moment of silence, he looked up. “It would undeniably be a propitious lesson, but I wonder for whom?”
    Kit stared at him. “Just what the devil do you mean by that?”
    “I anticipate that we shall see soon enough.”
    “I hate it when you look superior and talk in riddles.” Kit rose from the bench and retrieved the leather cylinder from where it had rolled to the edge of the table. Only the fiddles, small racks wisely placed to keep skidding dishes still on the table, kept the cylinder from tumbling to the floor. He held the leather in one hand, sliding his fingers absently over the smooth surface as he wondered what it was about the women that made their fates appeal to Turk. Normally abstaining from any sort of involvement with strangers, and particularly women, the voluble giant had inexplicably gathered these two strays under his wing.
    He turned to look at Turk. “I shall be below terrifying the two English misses if you decide to join me. Wear appropriate attire for properly terrorizing them, please. I do not wish to seem the only savage aboard.”
    Turk waited until Kit had reached the open door of the galley before he murmured loud enough for him to hear, “But you are the fiercest savage aboard.”

Five
     
    Angela had almost decided to brave the unknown by going above deck, when she heard the latch lift on the cabin door. She exchanged a quick glance with Emily and rose to her feet, holding tightly to the back of a chair to keep her balance.
    It was not a surprise to see the pirate captain enter, and she recognized from his expression that he was still in a nasty mood. The door swung back to bang against the wall, and his steps were firm on the portion of planked floor between rug and threshold. Angela’s grip on the curved back of the chair loosened, and the chair tilted sharply away with a clatter, as if it were a wild creature bucking from beneath her grasp. She grabbed at it in vain, and barely kept her balance.
    “Sit down before you fall and expect me to pick you up again,” Saber shot in her direction as he crossed to his desk. He immediately became absorbed in a large ledger that he pulled from a shelf. Dark head bent, he propped one hand against the gleaming surface of the desk and used the other to riffle the pages. He took up a goose quill pen and scratched notations on one of the pages, apparently forgetting the two captives.
    Angela righted the chair and exchanged a quick glance with Emily, who looked close to hysterics again. Gathering her flagging courage, she blurted, “Emily is better but still weak. Do you intend to feed us this morning?”
    He looked up. An unfriendly light glittered in sharp blue eyes. “Eventually. Are you always so governed by your stomach?”
    Before she could splutter