My insides clenched as I pictured an explosion of smoke and cinder, thousands of pounds of red-hot iron, and blood-soaked decks littered in dismembered limbs. I’d never experienced such brutality, but I’d lived every gruesome detail through my father’s stories.

Most days, I believed Edric Sharp was invincible. But sometimes, when I stared at the sea from my bedchamber, I feared the next fallen buccaneer would be him.

“Where are those dogs?” He strode away and whistled for the hounds.

“So you are the reason the captain shortened sail and hove to?” The new quartermaster collected his guns, eying me sidelong. “Can’t convince him to drop anchor in Nassau for a night of drink, but he’ll put two-hundred leagues beneath her keel to see his brazen little she-devil.”

I sucked in a breath and stood taller. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re all he talks about.”

“Then I’m at a disadvantage because I don’t even know your name.”

“Now you fancy an introduction?” He clicked his tongue. “Have you no contrition for attacking me?”

“No.” I met him stare for stare, despite the height he held over me.

“You don’t mince words, do you?”

I rested the cutlass on my shoulder. “I save the mincing for tangible things.”

“Quite so. Point established.” A rakish smile stole across his lips. “The name’s Charles Vane.”

3

My father jogged toward the beach to chase his hounds, leaving me in an incommodious stare down with his new quartermaster.

I fought the urge to cross my arms over the revealing bosom of my gown. Charles didn’t rest his gaze there, but he was looking at me, scrutinizing and assessing my unsightly appearance.

“Did you come from a party?” He canted his head, and a lock of black hair fell from the defined V of his widow’s peak.

“No.” I stabbed the cutlass into the sand and leaned on the hilt.

“Did you roll in every mud puddle you could find on the way here?”

“I’m certain I missed one.”

He glanced between his ripped sleeve and the soiled rags of my dress. “Are you in the habit of ruining fine garments?”

“Are you in the habit of filling perfectly good silence with tedious questions?”

“Not usually.” He scratched his whiskered face. “You’re nothing like the well-bred ladies I’ve…” He cleared his throat. “Spent time with.”

“I should hope not.” My cheeks heated at his meaning. “I’m not a strumpet.”

His gaze dipped to his boots, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “God save the man who sets his sights on you.”

“Speak plainly, Mr. Vane.” I anchored my fists on my hips. “What are you saying?”

“You’re Captain Sharp’s daughter.”

“Yes, she is.”

I jumped at the growl in my father’s voice and found him standing a few paces away, watching me.