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and patted his scrawny leg, so inflamed, with
    the moist linen. “The dogwood is to help you sleep.”
    “Sleep? I can’t sleep! Knock me senseless, instead. Please!”
    “I can arrange that,” he said grimly.
    Hours later, the cabin was dark. James rested in the hammock, swaying softly with the
    gentle swell of the sea. He listened to the pup as he murmured in his sleep. James had
    prepared the dogwood tea and siphoned enough into Quincy’s belly to make sure he was
    asleep for the next two days.
    James rubbed his brow, pounding with fatigue. He ached for quiet in his soul. Ironic
    that he should only ever find it on the deck of the Bonny Meg in the midst of a
    tempestuous raid, but it was then that the cannon blasts and roaring waves trumped his
    own noisy thoughts.
    He rolled out of the hammock and approached the scuttle, peering through the small,
    round window at the moonlit mountains, so ghostly blue.
    He had also found peace with Sophia. He had never sensed such a feeling of harmony
    away from the ship. He imagined the woman’s thick tresses trapped between his fingers,
    her sensual curves wrapped in his embrace. He envisioned her warm, shining eyes…and
    the bleakness he had witnessed in the lonely pools after he had rebuffed her advances.
    She was caged.
    Like him.
    She wanted freedom.
    Like him.
    James glanced at Quincy, sound asleep in the bed. He was going to have to take care of
    the boy for a long time. He was going to have to take care of all his brothers—and his
    sister—for a long time. He had to endure his duty.
    But he would offer Sophia respite from hers.
    The thought snagged in his mind. There was no escape for him from obligation;
    however, he had an opportunity to offer Sophia freedom from hers.
    Aye, she was Dawson’s daughter, but there was an unmistakable attraction between
    them: one he had to satisfy for both their sakes.
    Sophia closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic drumbeats, her hips slowly swaying
    to the music. In the twilight hours, the melodic pounding and bawdy lyrics offered her a
    clandestine moment to be wild and free, to dance and shake loose the restless energy
    thrumming inside her.
    She opened her eyes and took another swig of rum before she joined her fellow
    outcasts, the rebellious Maroons, and stomped her feet in the jungle soil, high in the Blue
    Mountain Range. She was so high, if she reached out her hand, she sensed she would
    touch the moon, the stars.
    The flames from the bonfire snapped at her bare toes as she undulated alongside the
    other charmed figures, dubbing with them, seeking flight from the darkness in her soul.
    It was a cool night, the air brisk, pristine. She swallowed a mouthful of it, her heart
    thumping in tempo to the tune, her thoughts aligned with her sensuous surroundings.
    The enchantment shattered.
    Sophia shivered as an intruding presence filled the atmosphere. She glanced through
    the hazy smoke into the dark, dense woods.
    He was watching her.
    He was masked by the blackness, but the man’s sharp stare pierced her spine, her flesh,
    teasing her senses, summoning her heart to heed his silent cal .
    She banished the thought of him from her mind. She danced with more passion,
    seeking refuge from his sultry glare; however, the black devil taunted her with his
    closeness. If she shut her eyes tight, she remembered the rich taste of his lush lips, the
    intoxicating touch of his hard muscles, the unearthly connection she had briefly formed
    with him.
    Sophia peered into the jungle once more, eyes watery from the stinging heat and thick
    smoke. She was sweating, her heart throbbing, her limbs aching …but not from fatigue.
    She was hungry.
    She surrendered to the brigand’s invitation at last. She moved away from the fire, the
    warmth of bodies. She traversed the natural courtyard in a daze, the melody still
    pounding in her head, guiding her steps.
    She entered the jungle, surrounded by the trees, the shadows. The drumbeats
    resounded