The Siren's Song Read Online Free Page B

into the sea.
    The rush of water washed over him crisp and cold as he sliced through the frenzied currents. Debris scraped against his arms, banged into his legs. He kicked hard to propel himself faster and felt his way through the dark billows.
    Where in the bloody hell was she? The hull. The hard bend of the ship’s hull. The figurehead, a sea nymph. The smooth curvature. This was where Drake had last seen the lass. This was where she went underwater. Had she succumbed? Had the sea carried her down into its depths?
    A sharp whack landed upon his cheek.
    Shit.
    Had he not known better, he’d believe those were stars, not lightning flashes, brightening the water. Damn, if that didn’t hurt.
    He reached out and snatched the foot that walloped his face. The lass struggled, fought and kicked at him. Drake grabbed her by the waist and shot her upward. They broke through to the surface. The wind sheered across the crests, blasting sea spray into his eyes. Which way to the longboat?
    The chit gasped for much needed air. She embraced his neck tightly and he held her close to his body. He took a moment to settle her, paddling in place, fighting the wrathful waves. He inhaled her hair, tasted it, salty on his lips as he steadied his own breath.
    A box splashed down beside them. Items that should have been secure on the ship broke loose and tumbled into the water. Chests popped up like corks all around them springing free from the broken hull. He must get them back to the longboat.
    As if on cue, Sam pulled the lifeline. The rope cut into his waist while the tide towed them in the opposite direction. But Sam would win over the sea. Damn near impossible to stop Sam. The mighty behemoth could best even the nastiest of Titans.
    Once the longboat was within reach, Drake grabbed the side and allowed Sam to lift the lass up. Before he had hoisted himself completely in, the men began to row back to the Rissa.
    No sooner had he sat, the lass fastened herself to him. She clamped that blasted purse in her lap and mouthed the words “thank you.” He just nodded. He could’ve drowned saving her. Well, not likely. But nonetheless, she had put him and his men in danger with her stupidity. He should be beside himself with anger. And he had been minutes earlier. Yet his anger dissipated when she laid her head on his shoulder.
    She shivered. Should he give her comfort? He faltered; his hand hovered momentarily, hesitantly, over her arm. Against better judgment, he held her.
    He’d wait until they made the Rissa, then he’d give her the tongue-lashing she deserved. Bah. Women. Only good for one, perhaps two, night’s company. After that they become an encumbrance.
    Oars smacked down into the rising swells. Ahead, the Rissa soared, blackened against the storm. Lightning split the sky allowing for the breadth of his fearsome ship to be seen. His ship, God love her.
    Once back on board, he’d get to the bottom of the woman and the fiasco she created. Captain Mott kept something from him. For this, Drake was of the mind to take more than just his cargo. He might see it fit to strip the Rowena of her sails, rigging and anything else he could use or sell.
    The men sculled the longboat alongside the Rissa. Drake helped the chit to the ladder. She ascended and he followed. Halfway up, her foot slipped off the rope rung. Again, Drake’s mug met with her shoe. His chop stung from her heel smacking into his cheekbone.
    “Curse it!”
    This chit may not be the death of him, but she certainly tried. Another blow like that and he might toss her back into the ocean.
    He shoved on her arse, pushing her up and over the ship’s rail. She landed without any style at all, in a jumbled heap. He hopped on, snapped her up off the floor and hauled her midship to the Rowena ’s waiting crew and captain.
    Mott came forward, his brow knit and the frown of his mouth set low. He spared no formalities expected by a woman.
    “Who the hell are you?”
    The lass stepped