Hard and fast, I swung the pan at my attacker. It swept straight towards the bastard's head—until said bastard's hand clamped around my wrist, and he said in a very cold, very familiar voice: "Is that any way to greet your husband, Mrs Ambrose?"

Oh.

Um.

Hey, wait a minute! What the heck was he doing here?

"You. Or at least that is the plan."

Wait, did I just say that out loud?

Oops.

More importantly, Lilly, what did he just say?

I felt heat rush to my face. "W-what the heck did you just say?"

Bending down until the shadowy outline of his chiselled face was right above me, he stared straight into my eyes with his own. Deep, dark, shadowy pools of sea water even a pirate princess would drown in, let alone sweet little me.

"I think I spoke clearly, no?"

I swallowed. "Indulge me."

"Oh, I intend to." He bent down a little farther, until I could feel the heat of his breath against my ear. "You want me to be clear about what I came here to do? Or rather whom?"

I felt heat thrum deep within me.

"You. Clear enough, Mrs Ambrose? You."

"It's Mr Linton!" I protested weakly. "We're in disguise! We have to pretend—"

"Not now." A single finger on my lips silenced me. "Not tonight."

Before I could get another word out, his fingers had already found their way to the top button of my shirt. Or rather, his shirt, which I had been wearing for the last few days.

And which you won't be wearing for much longer.

The thought sent a thrill through me.

Bad Lilly, bad! You're supposed to hide! You're supposed to be a man! Think chauvinism! Short dressing times! Socks stuffed down your trousers!

That was when I felt Mr Ambrose's "socks" against me. His very, very hard socks.

Oh boy.

Those must be uncomfortable to wear.

All of a sudden, in front of my inner eye appeared a mental image of Mr Rikkard Ambrose with a sock over his—

I couldn't help it. A giggle escaped me.

"Something funny, Mrs Ambrose?"

Oh shit.

"Um, well..." I cleared my throat.

"I see." His eyes glittered in the darkness. "Well then, let's keep you entertained, shall we?"

And he was on me. His lips were at my neck, scattering burning brands across my skin. Before I knew what was happening, he had left a trail of unquenchable desire down my neck, farther and farther down until he was about to reach my...

"N-no," I squeezed out while my mind screamed Yes! Yes, please! "W-we can't! If someone hears us..."

"I shall be silent. Or do you doubt my abilities in that regard?"

I nearly snorted. But it came out as a moan.

"D-don't make me laugh!"

"That did not sound like a laugh to me, Mrs Ambrose."

I opened my mouth to shoot back a remark—and out came another moan. Dammit!

Mr Ambrose, not being one to waste opportunities, used my distraction to pop the remaining buttons of my shirt. In a blink, the threadbare thing was fluttering away. Hot, tropical air caressed my skin.

I licked my lips.

"Y-you do remember that that was your precious mint-condition ten-year-old shirt, right?"

A stare filled with icy determination pinned me to the ground. "Do I look like I care?"

No.

No, he most definitely didn't.

But...

Reaching out, I cupped his cheek. "You look like you care about me."

Suddenly, the ferocious look in his eyes intensified tenfold. In a blink, his hands were holding my face in an iron grip.

"Indeed."

Then his lips slammed down on mine.

***

"Ships ahoy! Ships ahoy!"

The shout from the lookout above echoed all over the ship. Only two seconds later, the door to the captain's cabin slammed open, and a massive man with a no less massive beard strode out of the doorway. A moment later, the door to a storage closet opened, and a sleepy captain stumbled out.

"What is it?" Karim barked. "What do you see? The reinforcements?"

There was a momentary pause. Then...

"No! It's one of Mr Ambrose's merchant ships!"

Karim pulled a face.

"...being attacked by a pirate vessel!"

If the look on the bodyguard's face had been less than pleased before, it was positively murderous now. Behind him, the colour drained from the captain's face.

"Pirates?"

"Aye, Sir! I can clearly see the skull and crossbones on the flag!"

"I see." Karim cracked his knuckles. "Captain?"

"Um...aye, Mr Karim, Sir?"

"Load the cannons and ready the men for attack!"

"Aye aye, Si—wait, what? We have only one ship!"

The bodyguard's gaze that pierced him a moment later made the captain very much regret that he had spoken. But not as much as he would regret being gutted by a pirate's cutlass.

"Yes, Captain." The massive Mohammedan placed a hand on his sabre. "Any objections?"

The captain suddenly decided that being gutted by a pirate's cutlass might not be so bad after all. Still...

"Not really, Sir. Except..." He hesitated.

One bushy eyebrow rose. "Yes?"

"Why would we intervene? Isn't our priority to find Mr and Mr Ambrose?"

"And what if Ambrose Sahib and the Sahiba have already been found? They could be on that merchant ship. Or worse, hostages on the pirate ship."

The captain paled a little more. "Oh."

Karim gave a grim nod. "Now do you have any objections?"

"N-no, Mr Karim, Sir! None at all!" Turning around, the captain shouted at his men. "What are you waiting for, you landlubbers? Hard-a-port, men! Load the cannons!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

A moment passed. Wood creaked. Sails fluttered, and the ship began to turn. Then, slowly but inexorably, it started heading towards the desperate battle in the distance. The merchant ship was heavily damaged, and completely unable to manoeuvre. As for the pirates—so far, they seemed fully focused on their prey and hadn't even realized that another ship was approaching from behind.

"Captain?"

"Aye?" The captain glanced at the massive Mohammedan, who was standing at the prow, trying to burn holes into the pirate vessel with his gaze alone.

"Are we in firing range?"

"Aye, Sir!"

"Then bring the ship around."

"Aye aye, Sir! Should I fire a warning shot?"

"Oh yes. Right onto the deck. That should be a sufficient warning."

"Um...aye aye, Sir!"

Sweat dripping from his face, the captain hurried off. Karim, for his part, retained his spot at the prow, hands behind his back and spine straight as a rod. He waited. And waited. And wai—

Boom!

The ship rocked back as the cannons spewed fire and smoke. An instant later, the distant ship swayed, and wood splinters exploded into the air. Shouts of surprise and pain echoed across the ocean.

"Aim for the sails! Make sure those kutē dē putara don't escape!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

In rapid succession, salvo after salvo was fired at the distant ship. As was usual with firefights at this distance, most went astray. But only one or two needed to hit before all was decided. The pirates only just seemed to have registered what was going on. Desperately, they tried to turn their ship around and return fire—only to ram the merchant ship they had just been about to board and be stopped in their tracks.

"Don't stop!" Karim barked. "Continue firing!"

The sailors didn't need to be told twice. Explosions ripped the air apart, only moments before cannonballs did the same to pirate ship's sails. Already, the so-called "sails" were nothing more than tattered rags, unable to move forward even a nutshell, let alone a ship. But, apparently, fate had even more in store for the pirates.

Crack!

The sound was ear-splitting, even more so than the cannon fire. For a moment, no one seemed to know where it had come from—until the main mast of the pirate ship keeled over and slammed into the deck with horrendous force. The whole ship swayed, almost shattering under the force. Screams of agony rose into the air, bodies squashed under the weight and thrown overboard by the impact.

"Now!" Karim barked. "Cease firing! Approach and board!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

The ship under Karim's command turned and, without anyone firing so much as a single shot at them, approached its prey. Shouts of alarm rose from the pirate ship. Some grabbed their pistols, trying to ready them in time, but—

"Begin boarding action!"

Grappling hooks flew through the air. Metal scratched against wood as they bit into the railing, the rigging—anything and everything where they could find hold. Moments later, the order came.

"Pull!"

With a deep, torturous groan of wood, the two ships began to approach each other. Those few pirates who'd managed to get hold of their weapons raised their guns in a desperate attempt at defending themselves—only to be thrown to the deck again a second later when the ships crashed against each other.

"Now!"

At Karim's barked command, the sailors sprang into action. Launching themselves over the railing and the gap between the ships, they spread swiftly over the enemy deck. And Karim himself was right at the front, swinging his sabre like a berserker.

"Come on, Captain!" he roared over his shoulder. "Let's show those badabū vālī machī what real men are made of!"

Behind him, the captain gulped and clutched his stomach. "Um...I don't really want to have to show someone the colour of my innards."

"What was that?"

"Yes, Sir, Mr Karim, Sir! I'm coming, Sir!"

Reluctantly, the captain drew his pistol and plunged himself into the battle. Soon, smoke filled the air, mixed with the iron scent of blood. Screams and curses echoed over the ocean.

"Stand!" one of the biggest pirates roared. "Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied bastards! We're the predators of the sea! We can win this if we fight and—"

Wham!

Karim's fist slammed into the man's gut, sending him sailing back through the air. "By all means," he snarled, pearly white teeth flashing between his black beard in a predatory grin. "Fight!"

"Oh, we will." Wiping the blood from his mouth, the pirate smirked up at him—then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle filled with an amber liquid. Without an instant of hesitation, he hurled it straight at Karim. The bodyguard only realized what was going on when, a moment later, the pirate drew a pistol and took aim.

"Duck!" the Mohammedan roared and threw himself behind a barrel.

The muzzle flashed.

Boom!

Splinters of glass tore through the air as the bullet tore the bottle apart and burning alcohol was spattered all over the deck. People who had been hit screamed in agony as they tried to scratch the burning liquid off their faces with bare hands, and the captain cursed as he clutched his arm, penetrated by a piece of glass.

"Hell! That one nearly got us! We should retreat and regroup if we want to—"

One look from Karim cut him off.

"You think this is bad?" the bodyguard snarled. "What kind of hell do you think Ambrose Sahib and the Sahiba are going through right now?"

The captain swallowed. "M-my apologies. You're right, Sir. They must have it so much harder than us."

***

"Aaah...oohh....!"

I felt Mr Ambrose's hard length press against me. His mouth ravaged my own, pulling a moan from deep within my throat. After months of marriage to Mr Rikkard Ambrose, I thought there was nothing about him that could surprise me anymore. By now, I expected the heat emanating from this iceberg of a man. By now, I expected the love shining in his eyes. What I did not expect was the pure, unadulterated ferocity of his mouth on my own.

"Three weeks," he growled, not separating his lips from mine for just an instant. "Three entire weeks I have spent without touching you! First I was poisoned by that infernal fruit—"

"Which, I might add, you ate yourself due to your own stupidimmmmmh—!"

My words were cut off abruptly by a pair of lips once more slamming down on mine. "Then," he hissed against my mouth, "I was awake, but weakened by that poison, unable to sit, unable to move, unable to hold my own wife!"

"Mmmm..."

"Well," he cut me off once more, before I could get out anything coherent. "I'm not unable now."

And he let loose. Let loose like he never had before. Clothes went flying in all directions, leaving me nearly bare to the world. Around us, the world had slowly darkened as the sun had vanished behind the horizon, but if the air was growing colder with the coming night, I didn't notice it through the heat coming off of me. Coming off of him. Mingling between us.

"M-Mr Ambrose..."

Ignoring my words utterly, he tore my sorry excuse for trousers off me and hurled them into a corner. Skin slid over heated skin. I could feel his hot breath on my—

No, Lilly! Concentrate!

"M-Mr Ambrose, we shouldn't! The pirates—"

"—are drunk off their arse," he completed my sentence, pressing another kiss to the corner of my mouth. "And I mean that literally. I saw one of them trying to balance a bottle of whiskey on his bottom before falling over and starting to snore."

All right. That was a fairly good argument for continuing.

As is the way he's kissing you.

Heck! Now he's even seducing my inner voice?

Definitely! Ohh....ahhh...yes, more...!

Shut up! I have to stop this before someone hears us! I have to stop him—

And then, suddenly, he stopped. His skin separated from mine, his muscles no longer digging into me, his heat gone, leaving me cold and alone.

At least until, from above me, I heard the rustling of cloth. His tailcoat flew over my head and, a moment later, he was there, skin burning against naked skin. The only thing between him and me now were the flimsy remnants of my underwear.

Well, that and my baby bump.

I smirked up at him. "So...still not willing to let me on top?"

I couldn't see much of his magnificently chiselled face in the darkness, but I could see enough to make out the twitching muscle in his cheek.

"Mrs Ambrose...!"

"Yes, Mr Ambrose?"

That muscle in his cheek twitched again. Then he rolled away from me, onto his back, extending a hand to me.

"Come."

I smirked. "Oh, I intend to." I did not move.

That made the muscle in his cheek twitch once more. "Mrs! Ambrose!"

"Come on," I coaxed. "I want to hear it. Say the magic word."

A long moment of silence stretched between us. Then...

Maybe it was just a play of the shadows. But it almost looked as if his eyes softened. Somehow that didn't lessen the fervour glowing in his eyes in the least. Quite the contrary, in fact.

"My little ifrit..." he murmured, his eyes boring into my very soul, "Please. Come here. Mount me."

A shiver went down my spine.

"Well..." Eyes sparkling, I slowly, torturously slowly, advanced upon him. "Who am I to refuse when you ask me to be above you?"

His little finger twitched. As did the muscle in his cheek.

Two muscles at once? I almost feel honoured by—

That was when he launched himself forward. In a blink, his iron grip had closed around my upper arms and lifted me bodily up into the air. A moment later, I came down on top of him, skin on skin. Beneath me, I could feel his hard muscles flex. One in particular.

I felt my mouth dry.

"W-we really shouldn't."

I couldn't even pretend to sound convincing anymore. My voice was soft and breathy.

"I know." His deep, dark, fathomless eyes bored into me. Reaching up, he tore the last scrap of clothing off of me. "But we're still going to."

And the world started to spin.

Later that night—much, much, later—we quietly lay together, snuggled against each other, watching the sparkling stars through the threadbare fabric of the tent.

"So...what now?" I whispered, turning over to gaze at him. "What do we do tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Two icy eyes met mine. "There is nothing much we can do until we get a chance to slip away or get control of a boat. So we lay low. We bide our time. And, most of all, we pretend as best we can that we are pirates."

***

"Grraah!" With a squelching sound, Karim ripped his knife out of his enemy's throat and dropped the carcass to the deck. "Bloody pirates!"

The captain eyed the blood-spattered corpse. "Um...I'd have to agree. Extremely bloody."

"Have we taken control over the entire ship?" the bodyguard demanded.

"Aye, everything but the crow's nest. There's still one of them cowering up there."

"Get him down! Or do you want someone to put a bullet in your head from up there?"

The captain paled. "Aye aye, Sir! Right away, Sir! I'll—"

Suddenly, a cannon shot sounded in the distance. Everyone turned to face the newcomers, ready for a fight—but the moment they saw the British flags fluttering above a fleet of very simplistically designed, completely undecorated ships, the whole crew breathed a sigh of relief.

"Those are Mr Ambrose's ships!"

"The reinforcements!"

"Now they arrive?"

"Better now than never." Wiping his sabre on a rag, Karim gestured to one of the sailors. "Signal them! Tell the captain to come aboard, and have them fish any pirates that survived out of the water!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

Ten minutes later, the commander of the newly arrived fleet had climbed into a dinghy and was on his way to the other ship. Judging by the surly expression on his face, he didn't very much like being ordered around—but that expression vanished the moment he climbed over the railing and spotted Karim. Immediately, he saluted and gestured for his men to do the same.

"Mr Karim, Sir. How may my men and I be of assistance?"

"Come with me and search every single inch below deck. Don't let your guard down. There may still be pirates down there. Keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Ambrose Sahib and his wife."

"You have reason to think they are here?"

"I have reason to look for them everywhere. Now move! And be careful. Their safety takes top priority, understood?"

"Understood, Mr Karim, Sir!"

The commander saluted and, together, the two men descended into the belly of the pirate ship. A long line of men followed after them, their faces tense, weapons clutched in their hands.

It didn't take long to search the ship. They did not find who they were looking for. They did however find something else.

"Naraka dī aganī ḍūghā'ī!" Karim cursed as he slammed his sabre down, striking the restraints off the cowering figure in the corner. The emaciated man was so drained by hunger and exhaustion that he didn't even budge an inch when he was freed. "Slaves!"

"And hostages," the fleet commander growled, scowling at the stench in the hold. "In one of the cabins, I found a child that I swear I recognized from a ball in Port-au-Prince. He's a wealthy merchant's son. If we hadn't come across this ship, his father would have had to pay through the nose for him, and probably still would have only received a corpse in return."

"And if they have one hostage," the bodyguard growled, "they might have more."

The two men's eyes met in silent understanding.

"Mr and Mrs Ambrose?"

The bodyguard's face darkened. "Quite possibly."

"So, what now?"

Karim didn't reply. Instead, he turned around and climbed out of the hold, back onto the deck. There, he marched to the railing and gazed out onto the ocean. Time ticked by. One minute. Two minutes. Three.

Finally, he turned around.

"I have decided. Now that we know the pirates take hostages, it is clear that the danger to Ambrose Sahib and the Sahiba is much greater than we thought before. So we will do the following: the fleet will fan out and sweep the ocean. If we find any pirates..." His eyes hardened. "...those kutē are to be exterminated to the last man!"

There was a moment of awkward silence. Karim's eyes narrowed. "Any objections?"

"Well, ehem, Sir..." The first mate cleared his throat. "Aren't we supposed to be looking for Mr and Mrs Ambrose? Why would we suddenly go on a pirate hunt?"

"How many pirates are currently in this area?"

"Err...quite a few?" The first mate scratched his head. "Isn't that why the big boss came out here in the first place?"

"It is. So, tell me, what do you think would happen if, instead of us, those pirates would find Mr Ambrose first? Or, may Allah in his mercy prevent it, his pregnant wife."

The sailors paled. Some at the thought of the horrible fate that might await the young woman. Most at the horrible fate that would await them if Mr Rikkard Ambrose ever found out about this and got his hands on the men who failed to prevent it.

"Excellent point, Sir!" The first mate nodded quickly. "We should definitely hunt down the pirates in the hope of finding Mr and Mrs Ambrose faster. Or, failing that, at least prevent them from falling into the hands of those scumbags!"

"Hear, hear!"

"Down with those rat bastards!"

"Death to pirates!"

The entire crew cheered. That is, until one of them cleared his throat loudly, interrupting them. Everyone's gaze focused on him.

"Speaking of pirates..."

Trailing off, the man pointed to the south. Everyone followed his outstretched arm with their eyes. It didn't take long before they spotted the single ship with a black flag on the horizon.

"Commander!" Karim barked.

"Aye aye, Sir?"

"Turn the fleet around! Prepare for battle!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

Eyes glittering, Karim turned back to the gathered crew and swept his arm across the crowd. "Are you ready?"

"Aye aye, Sir!" answered a thunderous chorus.

"Excellent." Clenching his fist, Karim stepped to the railing and surveyed the ocean. "Then, now we go to crush those pirates! Every. Last. One!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ahoy, mateys!

I thought I'd use a naval greeting for once ;)

In case you were wondering, hard-a-port is a naval command signifying a sharp turn towards the port side of a ship. The port side of a ship is defined as the side of the vessel that is to the left of someone standing on deck if they are facing the bow.

Yours Truly

Sir Rob

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Kutē dē putara—Punjabi for "sons of dogs".



Badabū vālī machī—Punjabi for "stinking fish".



Naraka dī aganī ḍūghā'ī!—Punjabi for "Fiery depths of hell!"