Storm over the Caribbean

43. Catching the Evil Pirates!

I smiled proudly at my husband who had just identified himself as murderous pirate scum. Was it any wonder that I was a happily married woman?

Not to be outdone, I followed his example and proudly pointed at my own chest. Striking a pose, I sent a broad smile at Karim.

Yep, that's right! Proud pirate bride, right here!

Poor Karim just stared.

Then stared some more. And some more.

It took a while for the penny to drop. Probably because Mr Ambrose didn't want to let go of it.

"No." The bodyguard shook his head, his beard whipping from left to right. "No, no, no. You can't be serious."

"Of course we aren't." With an earnest nod, I pointed at Mr Ambrose's stony visage. "Can't you see this is the face of a lifelong comedian?"

He looked from Mr Ambrose, to me, and back at Mr Ambrose, almost as if imploring us to shout "April Fools!" Instead, I gave him a wide smile and, behind my dear husband's back, started striking pirate poses.

"But...you? Pirates? How...where...when...why?"

"To answer in order: in a very interesting way, in many places, the last few weeks, and 'cause it's fun," I replied over my hubby's shoulder, happily.

He, for his part, jabbed a thumb at me. "What she said."

"Exactly!"

"Except for the fun. It was profitable."

"Excusez-moi!" A more than somewhat annoyed voice with a French accent interrupted our heart-warming reunion. "Not that I do not enjoy your little theatre performance, Messieurs et Madame, but could you perhaps remember that I am still tied up over here?"

All three of us turned to gaze at the man who had spoken—a certain Frenchman, who, after everything that had happened, was still tied to his chair.

Mr Ambrose and I exchanged a look.

"Who is this?" Karim demanded, tensing. "A pirate?"

"No." Mr Ambrose shook his head.

"Oh." The bodyguard's shoulders slumped.

"This is one of the men who hired the pirates."

"Hired them to kill us," I added helpfully.

Karim's slumped shoulders stiffened, and, righting himself, he fixed a burning gaze upon the bound man. "Is that so...?"

The Frenchman paled ever so slightly. It apparently had just occurred to him that attracting attention to himself with a bloodthirsty, vengeful giant in the room might not have been such a good idea.

"Um...Monsieur, before you do anything you might regret—"

That was as far as he got. The last thing the Frenchman saw was a mallet-sized fist approaching rapidly.

Wham!

"You know," I pointed out as I watched the unconscious man slump in his chair, drool trickling from one corner of his mouth, "we had intended to question him."

Karim cocked his head. "He's still alive, isn't he?"

That made me grin. I just couldn't help it. Instinctively, I gave the bearded mountain another hug. "I missed you. I really missed you."

"If you do not let go of me, I shall pull out my gun and not miss you."

"You see? That's what I'm talking about! I don't know how I survived these last few weeks without our friendly banter!"