Corsets & Crossbones by Heather C. Myers Page A

moment, giving him a curt look.  Heath gulped, knowing what it meant; if he touched her, he was doomed.  Whoever this lass was had some sort of hold over his captain, a hold he had never seen on his captain before.  Charlie nodded slightly, and then turned around and left.
    “I expect dinner to be exquisite,” he called behind him before disappearing down the hall and up the stairs.
    “Well now,” Heath said with a smile, walking out of the door and shutting it behind him.  “When Charlie wants something, he stops at nothing until he gets it.”  He sighed, wondering about the events that were about to unfold.  “Shall we then?”
    Brooke arched an eyebrow.  She really did not want to be doing this.  After that incident with her mother, she really did not acquire a taste for cooking. 
    “We shall,” she said curtly.
    Brooke allowed Heath to lead her down the hall and into the galley.  It was a small room, filled with pots and pans.  Meat hung from the ceiling, bags of rice spilled onto the floor, and stale bread was left out in the open.  The young woman scrunched her nose in disgust as she saw the flies and insects buzzing around.  If she was going to work here, cook here for certain lengths of time, then she was definitely going to have to sanitize this place.  She sighed; she hated cleaning.
    “So, uh, what’s going on between you and Charlie?” Heath asked as he started throwing things in a big pot. 
    Brooke was leaning on a wooden slab, her shoulder thrust up, her palm resting on it, her eyes watching Heath.  When she heard his question, she nearly lost her balance.  Her face flushed again, this time tainting her freckled cheeks red.  She exhaled through her nose, and glanced up to find Heath had stopped what he was doing to stare at her.  Her eyes shot back down to the wooden floor, feeling considerably warmer than she had a moment before.  She had to clear her throat to speak clearly.
    “I told you, we are not like that,” she told him quietly.
    Heath smirked, his brow rising in amusement.  “Oh- hoh,” he said with a laugh.  His blue eyes twinkled with amusement.  “Listen, I know Charlie, and I know Charlie with women.  You are not typical when it comes to Charlie and women.”
    “Oh?”  Brooke’s voice came at sharper than she originally intended. 
    Heath chuckled and went back to making his stew.  “Ah,” he said in recognition.  “Does the young miss have a certain curiosity about our captain?”
    “Curiosity killed the cat,” Brooke said.  She hoped her voice sounded convincing because in truth, she was curious; too curious.
    “But the cat was brought back by satisfaction,” Heath said with a grin.  Brooke couldn’t help but grin back.  Heath grabbed a wooden spoon and began to stir the contents of the pot.  “Charlie was never one to commit to a woman; the sea was his only love.  In fact, he wouldn’t allow any of the men, including himself, to have women aboard, no matter how short a period of time.  Because of this, the crew demanded many stops.”  He took a glance at Brooke and found her staring intently at him stirring the contents in the pot.  But he knew she was listening to him.  He glanced back at his pot.  “Charlie was never one for ties.  The women he was with, he left them without regret.  He had no family, except some uncle on some island that he visited once in a blue moon.  His friends are his crew.  He never married, never planned to.  No kids.”  He paused and then left the pot to grab serving bowls.  He then proceeded to fill the bowls with the stew.  Again Brooke scrunched her nose; the scent was not incredibly appetizing.  “And now here you are,” he finished, glancing up at the young woman. 
    “Why would Charlie not marry?” Brooke asked curiously.  “I mean, he is attractive enough.  He would breed well.  He is fit.  He is smart.”
    “Trust me, Charlie’s received plenty of offers,” Heath said with