Evangeline McKenna has won Jack Sparrow's heart. Now, as she joins him again on his beloved Pearl, outside forces threaten to tear them-and everyone else-apart. The crew teams up with new and old forces to defeat a wealthy man in London who wants no...
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She woke abruptly and realized Jack had turned on his right side to face her, his arm draped over her protectively. Warmth radiated from his body, his breath roused her hair. Knowing that he preferred to sleep on his left side, Evangeline recognized that he had sacrificed comfort simply to hold her. A terror washed over her. He had asked her if she was frightened, and suddenly, she was.
What had she done to deserve him forsaking his own comfort? Would he wake in a few hours to decide he did not want her? Perhaps spending the first night together had been a mistake. Geline sat up slowly lest she wake the man beside her. He stirred, pulling his arm back to his chest, rolling onto his back. She waited for him to settle again, and then stood, her bare feet flush against the floor.
What she wanted was to make her way to the deck, but with only her undergarments on, she knew it was impossible. Instead, she sat at Jack's desk, taking stock of all that the surface held. Ledgers, logs, bits of parchment with incoherent scribbles. The moonlight allowed only so much visibility, and although she was known to be curious, she let the lack of light tell her not to snoop. Standing again, and stepping lightly to avoid undue noise, she made her way to her valise. She found it in a corner of the cabin, and sat cross-legged opposite it. She had packed only what she had deemed important; spare clothes, her boots, a cloth sewn pouch that held four emerald hairpins- a gift from Sarah, a small coin purse half full, letters from Nathaniel, and the letter Jack had written her.
It wasn't much, she knew this. After her father had lost his merchant business, a good portion of her things had been sold. After her mother had passed away, they had left everything behind in London. What little she possessed had burned the night her father died. She cherished the items in her valise, but sitting on the floorboards of Jack's cabin with all she owned in the world, she felt unsettled.
"Geline?" She heard Jack ask groggily from the bed. He rose, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes half-closed. "What are ya doing over there on the floor, luv?"
"I couldn't sleep," she answered, putting her things back into her valise.
"Anything bothering ya?" He pushed the covers back and stood, the floor creaking beneath him.
She didn't speak, and he looked at her with worry, the tired look on his face disappearing. He met her in the corner and sat, situating himself in the same fashion as her.
"Evangeline, what's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"
"It was not my intention to wake you."
"Sweetheart," he drawled. "I don't care that you woke me, I care that ya are sitting by your lonesome, in the middle of the damn night, surrounded by your belongings. Something is wrong, and while you're under no obligation to confide in me about whatever is disturbing ya, I like to assume that I am a fantastic listener."
His voice was soft and caring, and Geline sighed.
"Are you confident that this is what you want? That I am what you want?"
