Saved By The Pirate (Book One)

35. Uncertain Feelings And Hair Brushing

Christopher

Christopher felt embarrassed for being so quiet the days they got back from Madeline. His head had been spinning, thinking about what she had said to him. Was he going to confess his feeling towards Anne?

It was right to say that he felt something with his time with her, but would it be wrong to confess his feelings to her? Would she feel the same way?

Christopher's heart sank at the thought of being humiliated or even worse, rejected. If she rejected him, if he were to let her go, he would make up a story about why Anne wasn't with him anymore and then go on with his life. That's it. Play the part and move on with his life.

He would go on with his career as a pirate. He was free; he didn't need some girl to tie him down. He had the world to himself. He could be anything and anyone he wanted.

But didn't Christopher want more? Surely there was more to it than individualism. And Anne was different, and he liked that. He liked her. From the bookstore, she was looking at the map and facts of the Galapagos. He could take her.

He wanted too.

But he put that aside and focused on trying to get back to the way he used to be with Anne - that cocky and mischievous pirate he knew annoyed her.

After staying in the garden to enjoy the scenery for a few minutes, Christopher got up and went inside. It was close to dinner, and he was going to wash up, but when he stepped through the door, he saw just how busy it had suddenly gotten.

He sighed and looked about the busy people, feeling sorry for the many things they had to accomplish before the ball began.

It looks like I'm not the only one with problems, he thought and went up the stairs to his bed-chamber.

He was nearly at the top when suddenly, he heard his name. "Christopher!"

Oh, no, he thought, wanting to run, but pushed himself to turn around. There, he faced the one person he was trying to avoid - Katherine. She was a nice girl, he decided, but it was too much to say he enjoyed her company at times.

"Hello, Katherine," Christopher greeted with a warm smile.

Katherine, a few steps behind him, walked the rest of the way up before curtsying before him. "Captain. I'm glad I caught you. I just wanted to know if you would do me the honor of saving me a dance tomorrow night."

That was it?

"Of course," Christopher said. "Anything else?"

"No." And she curtsied again and skipped the rest of the way up the stairs, humming a little tune to herself. Strange, Christopher thought, but shrugged it off and went to his chambers, opening the door to a singing Anne.

She, too, was in a good mood, singing away as she brushed her yellow hair. Christopher smiled to himself and entered the room, shutting the door behind him/

He stayed where he was and watched her, trying to get noticed. Anne didn't seem to notice anyway. She was to busy running the brush through her hair to see him walk in.

Christopher took full notice of her smile. She was happy, and with the little song she was singing, it had to be over something good. But being the pirate that he was, Christopher couldn't let the perfect opportunity go to waste.

"What a pretty little tune," he said, causing her to jump. She dropped the brush and held her hand up to her chest.

"My God. Don't ever do that again," she said.

He smirked and walked over, picking up the brush. "May I?" He asked.

She looked surprised and rose a brow. "You want to brush my hair?"

"That is what one does with a brush," Christopher said smartly. "You obviously can't brush right."

Her face fell. "Why, thank you for your kind words. I could care less about what I look like, but if it upsets you that much, please brush away my kind, sir."

He smirked. He had won.

***

Anne

Christopher was brushing my hair. Christopher, the pirate, the man who got me into this mess, was using a brush to stroke my hair.

Had the world gone mad? Had he?

I glanced at Christopher in the mirror. He looked like he was enjoying himself. Could you find pleasure in brushing someone else's hair?

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Indeed," he said, not looking up to meet my eyes.

"But, you're smiling."

"Indeed, I am."

I paused. "But why?"

This time, he did look up at me, his golden eyes connecting with mine. I felt myself blush.

"Because that is what one does when moving one's facial muscles."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Fair answer," I said and waved my hand. "Carry on."

He turned his attention back towards my hair and kept on brushing. I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt because it did, but somehow, Christopher made it, so it hurt less.

Even I couldn't do that, and I was the one with the long hair. I was starting to believe Christopher had magical powers.

After a few more minutes, Christopher put the brush back down on the vanity and crossed his arms, proud of his accomplishment.

"That's more like it," he said.

I looked over my hair, shocked at the fantastic job he had done—my God.

"Bloody hell," I said, touching my hair. "You go the knots out."

"That I have."

"I can't believe it."

"Then don't."

I shot him an annoyed look, but he kept on smirking. "Your smirk bugs me."

From the mirror, he looked me right in the eye. "I always bug you."

I shrugged. "Well, that's true."

And it was true. Right? Maybe? Things couldn't be different. He still kidnapped me or saved me as he put it, and I was pretending to be his wife, among other things. I couldn't feel anything for him.

There was no denying he wasn't handsome, but the whole world could see that. He was good-looking and intelligent, funny, adventurous, and yes, very, very, very cocky.

But it was attractive, a little voice in my head said.

I hated myself for thinking like that. I hated myself for even thinking about it in general. What was I doing?

I shouldn't even think about him, not after all the bad things I know he did, what he was capable of doing. I was a stupid, stupid girl for even letting him cross my mind!

What have I become? My God, what am I going to do?

I let this man, this pirate convince me that I was in love with him! If even that! Surely that had to be his plan. He'd lure me in with his adventures and his looks and smarts. He'd lead me in with his game of playing his wife, and then... what?

What was the point of all this? Was there even a point?

It didn't matter then because it was time for dinner.