When I hit the back wall, I could no longer see the gate. Half a dozen men held my arms and legs, stretching me like an X with my spine against the wooden rib of the warship’s hull.

Full-body tremors pummeled through me. It couldn’t be helped. My arms twisted in sweaty clutches, my hands slipping uselessly, unable to find a gripping place. The more I struggled, the stronger and heavier my attackers became, multiplying in numbers and moving like a tidal wave until they formed a single unpreventable force that crashed against me, bruised my skin, and bellowed vile promises.

“Back off!” I screamed and gnashed my teeth. “Release me! I can help you!”

Everything stopped. The pirates who restrained me didn’t let go, but the others fell back. The swarm divided, leaving a narrow path for one man to approach.

The captain.

Long red hair tangled around a matching beard that hung to his chest. Luminous green eyes shone out of a narrow face that might have been attractive, if not for the foreboding sneer that slashed across it.

He prowled toward me, tall, lean, and shirtless. The scars on his freckled torso and arms painted a gruesome constellation. Frayed trousers sagged low on trim hips. No boots. No jewelry. Nothing to indicate who he was.

But there was only one known redheaded pirate captain from Scotland, and his noxious reputation preceded him.

“Madwulf MacNally.” I jutted my chin, my nostrils pulsing with the rush of my breaths. “I’m Bennett Sharp.”

My name flickered recognition in his eyes before they hardened into cold green jewels. “I dinna care if you’re the Countess of Nithsdale. Right now all you are is caged, just like the rest of us.”

My stomach clenched, but I made my mouth smile. “I can help you escape.”

“You?” His chuckle spread a chill across my skin. “The only release you can provide is the one I’ll be taking between your bonny thighs.”

My pulse quickened, but I didn’t fight the hands that held me. I forced myself to remain calm and unruffled.

If I told him the notorious Priest Farrell was going to stop this warship from reaching England’s shore, he wouldn’t believe me. Or maybe he would, but it wouldn’t dissuade him from his cruel intentions.

No, I couldn’t mention Priest. Not without risking the commodore hearing my rescue plan.

“How about I save my bonny thighs to trap Lord Cutler?” I grinned despite my surgent nausea. “I’ll obtain a private meeting with him, put him in a scandalous position, and—”

“If his lordship was interested in you, you wouldn’t be here. With us.”

Hard to argue.

My stomach sank.

“I dinna mind his cast-offs if they all look like you.” He crowded in and traced an overgrown fingernail along my jawline, making me gag. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen on the high seas. Right, lads?”