Nathaniel could only open and close his mouth like a helpless fish on a hook, waiting for Hawk to explode to his feet and perhaps run Nathaniel through with his blade, which still hung from his belt.

Then realization dawned: he couldn’t. Was he—yes, he was injured. The mighty pirate king had been brought low, not because he was about to haul Nathaniel out from under the desk, but because he’d fallen.

And he didn’t appear able to get back up.

“I… Are you…?” Nathaniel crawled closer, dangerously within reach. Hawk only seethed in response, a savage, guttural groan. Nathaniel looked to the closed door. “Should I call for help?”

“No!” The notion seemed to infuriate Hawk so much that rage fueled him back to his feet, where he leaned heavily against the desk.

Nathaniel couldn’t spot exactly where Hawk was hurt until he came around to stand before him. The coat fell open, and Nathaniel could see the hunk of wood lodged in his right thigh. Sucking in a breath, he inched closer. “You need the surgeon.”

Tendons in his neck bulging, Hawk shook his head. “The men need him more.”

“Are we safe now?”

“Took out her main mast. She’ll be licking her wounds for a while. Serves them right for trying to take us on. Fucking One-Eyed Alfred and the Javelin. He attacks anyone and everyone without provocation, no matter the risk. Madman.”

“It looked like quite a big ship.”

Grimacing, Hawk said, “Aye, but bigger isn’t always better. Those hulking ships are not as…” He waved his hand in the air as if searching for a word.

“Agile?”

“Yes, you fancy little fuck. Not as agile.” He pushed off the desk. “Stay out of my way while—” He stumbled and would have crashed to the floor if Nathaniel hadn’t darted forward to catch him, almost toppling with the weight as he jammed his left shoulder under Hawk’s right. Hawk insisted, “I don’t need hel—”

“Oh for goodness’ sake, you clearly do.” Nathaniel took a step, bearing as much of Hawk’s weight as he could, their sides pressed together as they crossed to the bed.

Hawk’s harsh breathing was loud in Nathaniel’s ears, and gunpowder, blood, and sweat filled his nose. At least the cabin was compact, and it was only several feet before he levered Hawk around and deposited him on the side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.” Hawk winced, shuddering as he tried to shake off his coat. “Go back to your corner.”

Perhaps he should have left the man to his own devices since he didn’t deserve any assistance, and certainly not sympathy. Yet here he was, the mighty pirate king, grimacing and bleeding, crippled by injury like any number of sailors before him. He wasn’t some fearless, untouchable god, rising unscathed above danger.

No, he was merely a man.

It should have satisfied Nathaniel to see him humbled. Should have made him triumphant. But it unsettled him in a way he couldn’t understand, previously held truths splintered by cannon fire as surely as The Damned Manta’s hull.

If the Sea Hawk was vulnerable, what hope did Nathaniel have to survive in the brutality of the New World? Here Hawk was, bleeding, hurting, and Nathaniel wanted to make it stop.

He climbed onto the bed behind him and peeled the coat off, easing Hawk’s arms free of the sleeves, the leather hot to the touch. Then he knelt at Hawk’s feet and took hold of one of those ostentatious boots. He looked up with eyebrow raised.

Hawk watched him, his usual bland or mocking expression replaced by one of genuine bafflement, forehead creased and nose slightly wrinkling. But he lifted his foot, and Nathaniel gently tugged the boot free.

Then the other, which he did slowly since that was the injured leg. He leaned in close. The wood was two inches thick, jagged and splitting. It was lodged in Hawk’s thigh, his tight black trousers torn where it impaled the muscle, a few inches sticking into the flesh. Hopefully it got some fat too.

Nathaniel shook his head. “You need the surgeon.”

“I told you, my men need him more. Just pull it out.”

“Do you have bandages, at least? Anything to clean the wound?”

Hawk nodded to the desk, and Nathaniel rifled around, finding a bottle of rum, clean bandages, and a tin of medical instruments. When he turned back, Hawk was removing his weapons, keeping them close at hand behind him on the mattress. He narrowed his gaze.

“If you even consider some scheme to arm yourself, I assure you it will be ill-fated.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “How often must I remind you that I won’t endanger my sister? I am at your mercy.” He should let the wound fester and perhaps eventually kill Hawk, but couldn’t bring himself not to lend assistance, imagining how dreadful the pain was.

Hawk tried to remove his trousers, fingers clumsy on the fastening, belt unbuckled. It seemed the tables had turned and that Hawk was at Nathaniel’s mercy, at least for the moment.

Tags: Keira Andrews Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net