"Do you think ‘m an idiot?" he asked abruptly.

"I don’t know," she countered haughtily.

"Yeah, well, ‘d have to be an idiot to take advantage ‘f you," he informed her, leaning forward so that his face just barely intruded into her personal space. "’S never a smart idea to take an unwillin’ woman to bed…’specially one who’s so prone to stabbin’."

She relaxed slightly at that, although she didn’t let it show on the outside. "I will take every opportunity I can to escape," she informed him matter-of-factly.

He gave her a sly smile. "Why am I not te least bit surprised?" he joked lightly.

She turned her nose away from him in response.

"So," he sat back up on the table, pouring a glass of wine from the decanter and offering it to her only to drink it himself when she shook her head ‘no’, "shall we properly introduce ourselves then? Given that we’re gonna be livin’ together for some time…"

She shrugged disinterestedly.

"The name’s Jay Arlington," he said, looking down at her over the rim of his glass.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "You’re Jay the Bloody!" she exclaimed in surprise. And then her expression turned to fury. "You’ve stolen half a dozen of my father’s shipments in the past month alone!" she began to rant. "And when you attacked that cargo ship right in Chesapeake Harbor, half the population was terrified to even set foot on the beach, even with British navy ships in plain view! And-"

"Really?" Jay said, a hint of pride in his voice.

"You’re infamous," she informed him coldly, "as a thief and a ruthless murderer. That’s not something to be proud of."

"Maybe to you," he countered with a toothy grin. "Your father, huh? Who’s he then?"

"Henry Nelson," she said proudly.

He blinked. "Never ‘eard ‘f him."

"He’s very wealthy," she assured him before gasping at the error she’d just made. "If you hold me for ransom…" she began.

"Painful death, yadda, yadda, yadda," he said disinterestedly. "So, your father’s ‘Enry. That would make you…?"

"Emma," she said sullenly.

"Em’a," he repeated. "Suits you - very pretty."

She blushed slightly and turned her head away so that he couldn’t see her cheeks redden. In the past men had had an unfortunate tendency of thinking her pretty, then meeting her and instantly changing their minds.

"So, Em’a, how ‘bout we come to a little agreement?" he suggested, cocking his head to one side slightly to look at her.

"I don’t deal with criminals," she informed him.

"’Course not," he said with a cheeky little smile, "but in the interest ‘f keepin’ me from wringin’ your lovely neck…"

"You’re not exactly convincing me that I can trust you," she pointed out.

He laughed at that. "Got me there, luv," he agreed. "Now, will you jus’ listen to what ‘m proposing?"

"Do I have a choice?" she gestured to the ropes that bound her.

"You will soon if you just keep quiet for one second!" he exclaimed, his infamous impatience on the verge of breaking.

She let out a little sigh. "I’m listening," she agreed.

"This room ‘ere," he gestured to the small cabin furnished only with the chair, the small desk, and a mattress, "’s pretty impossible to break out of. ‘ve got the only key," her eyes flicked to the silver key that was tied at his waist right beside the sword he wore, "an’ the only way out’s through my cabin. Now, how ‘bout I untie you, an’ you can ‘ave this room all to your lonesome throughout our voyage?"

"Like I could sleep knowing you’re in the next room," she said with a little eye roll.

He gave her a conspiratorial little smile and moved over to the bed. She watched, curious, as he felt around under the mattress and finally produced a small dagger. "’ad an admiral who was a wee bit paranoid a while back," he commented, studying the sharp edge of the blade. He pulled it out further, revealing that it was attached to a strong chain and bolted firmly to the wall, preventing it from being useful to anyone who was not on the bed. "Should ensure that nothin’ gets to you in your sleep." He cocked an eyebrow in her direction.

She bit her lip, more than tempted. After all, despite all her experience at being tied up, it was rather uncomfortable. "What about Ellie?" she demanded. "And Father Giles?"

"The preacher’s in no danger," he assured her, replacing the knife in its hidden sheath beneath the mattress. "’ve got ‘im roomed up in another ‘f the empty cabins. As for your companion…"

Emma nodded resignedly. "A willing captive, I take it?"

"Prob’ly sharin’ the bed ‘f my first mate even as we speak," Jay agreed before frowning. "’E’s not usually so quick to dive in. Tha’s quite a…persuasive friend you’ve got yourself there."

"That’s Ellie," Emma couldn’t help but smile. "She sees what she wants, and she takes it."

"An’ what about you?" he asked, moving over to where she sat and crouching down in front of her feet, the sheath of his blade scrapping the ground as he did so.

"We have a deal," she repeated forcefully. "That does not mean that I will consort with you or your crew in any way."

"Fair enough," he agreed with a small smile, removing a small knife from his boot. "For the ropes," he quickly reassured her.

She nodded that she wouldn’t struggle.

"You’re not going to, er…kick, are you?" he asked somewhat warily, noticing that certain precious regions of his body would be open and exposed to her once her feet were released.

"We have a deal," she said simply.

He decided to live dangerously and quickly cut through the ropes at her feet. Emma took the opportunity to study him. The look of thoughtful concentration as he worked, as well as his entire manner, indicated to her that he was no common thug. There was definite intelligence and wit behind those shinning blue eyes, underneath long, fluttering lashes and…

She stopped short when she realized that she’d once again been appraising his beauty. Her cheeks flushed just as he broke through the ropes and turned to look up at her.

His eyes widened slightly, and he quickly reached out to her bosom…

She kicked like mad. No matter how beautiful he was, no pirate would ever touch her without facing the consequences!

"Jesus Christ!" He leapt back frantically, just barely escaping the sharp toe of her boot. "What on earth is the matter with you?!"

"You said you wouldn’t touch me!" she yelled right back. "I should have known I could never trust-!"

"You’re bleedin’," he cut her off, gesturing to the wound he’d been trying to inspect.

She looked down and discovered that indeed a small cut was bleeding where that other pirate had cut her dress; the blade must’ve just knicked her skin. "I-I didn’t realize," she stuttered, instantly apologetic.

His brow furrowed slightly, and this time she didn’t pull back when he reached out to inspect the wound. "This ‘as been cut…" He frowned further.

"That thug friend of yours did it," she said, huffing slightly. "Cameron. I can’t imagine why you’re at all surprised."

"Passengers are never to be harmed," he said sternly, looking up at her with flashing blue eyes. "Sean did this? That bloke you cut?"

"Yes."

"He’ll be punished for it," he assured her with such sincerity that not even she could doubt his word.

Their eyes met and locked for a moment, blue to hazel, and she felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart pound in her chest at the intensity of this man.

And then he moved behind her to untie her wrists, and the spell was broken. She warily rubbed the flesh there, surprised at how little it had actually bruised.

"There’s water in the basin," he informed her in clipped tones. "’d volunteer to help but…" He eyed her foot warily and backed out of the room. "Milady." He gave her a curt little bow before the door shut and the lock turned, trapping her within.

She quickly ran over to check the lock. Unfortunately, it was a good one, and her hairpins weren’t strong enough to pick it. Step two was to examine the dagger under the bed. It too was thoroughly secured, the blade too thick to fit between the wall and the metal bolts that held it in place. That left only the small porthole… She wasn’t surprised to see that that avenue of escape was also hopeless.

She flopped back down onto the mattress with a weary sigh. There was no use denying it; she was completely trapped and at his mercy. At least he didn’t seem to be as much of a hoodlum as that Sean, however…

"Oh well," she on her back and stared up at the wooden planks of the ceiling, "at least I don’t have to marry Peter anymore…"


okay guys sorry i had to make it a jellie, and sorry i kinda made sean look like a ad guy but he was really the only one that fit the part