After a tormenting 4 days of delirium and battling the never-ending demons that taunted her dreams, Tempest, finally fought against the agony of her fever.

The morning had found her cool to the touch but in another predicament. Still, in a slight haze and weak, she opened her eyes and took in the brightness coming in from the cabin's porthole.

Tossed on her back and too achy to fully move, she shifted slightly only to find there was a warm hand laying on her abdomen. Slowly she became fully aware of her surroundings. Her confusion dissipated with the sensation of a warm leg snug and entwined with hers.

She turned to look beside her and her breath hitched in her throat.

She stared at Justin's sleeping face; taking in every detail of his stunning features. She frowned then, as she realized he was asleep beside her... bare.

She was bare.

Frantically, she searched in her mind wondering what had happened. Why were they like this in bed? Her mind hitched only on fog. She could not remember much.

What did they do?

With a gasp, she pulled away with a whimper following from her stiff joints as she scrambled towards the edge of the bed only to stand on shaky legs. Trying to fight the wave of weakness, she stepped forward lacking the strength to continue.

A mixture of nausea, the ship's sway, and dizziness, had her nearly sinking to the floor but with fluid swiftness a strong arm wrapped around her waist and suddenly she was cradled in Justin's arms then brought around and placed back in bed.

Shakily her fingers tightened on the sheets and she pulled it up to her chin as he stood up and looked down at her. Then his features softened. As if he was relieved. Then his expression turned serious.

"I see the fever has broken," he said looking her over.

Confused she frowned.

She winced in pain as she spoke, "Fever?" her voice cracked.

Slowly she raised her fingers to her throat.

"You were out of it for nearly 3 days," he informed her as he stood and then reached for his breeches. In plain view, he slid them on as her eyes skimmed over him, and quickly she looked away.

He found her flushed look appealing but gave no outward sign of it. With a stoic and straight face, he looked at her once more.

They stared at one another for some time. She observed him then her eyes lowered from his, slowly down his muscled chest then she swallowed nervously.

"You took care of me?" it was more a sentence of disbelief than a question.

He nodded curtly " I did." Before pulling his shirt over his head and covering himself.

He turned away then and reached for the familiar bundle of clothing he once before presented to her that she refused to change into.

She lowered her gaze as he lifted the shirt from the pile with an expectant gaze and stared at her fingers that tightened on the sheets.

"You burned with fever for nearly 4 days. Is there a need to remind you why?" he stated ready for her protests.

She shook her head. He lifted it waiting for her to produce her hand to place it in the sleeve. When she did not move, he leaned forward and lifted her chin, and held her gaze.

"I am not a blind man, Tempest," he murmured.

Riveted to the spot, she listened, "I have seen all that was meant to be seen in light of the situation. It is pointless to be modest, Don't you think?"

The slight hint of gentle amusement in his eyes only deepened the color on her cheeks as she looked away and then lowered her head.

Her only answer was to slowly lower the sheet and discreetly cover her breasts with one arm as she leaned forward and slid her other arm through the sleeve then soon the other. Heat flamed through her veins as he briefly watched her before abruptly standing and turning away as she buttoned up her blouse.

"I should strangle you for being so stubborn and giving me a fright," he said.

Blood pounded in her ears with his words. "Forgive me if I have caused you any distress. It will not happen again," she whispered with a defensive tone.

He turned slowly to stare at her. Her mouth formed into a thin line as his gaze settled on her. She hugged herself feeling uneasy with his silence.

"Why do you look at me so?" Tempest asked, her voice edgy.

He shook his head with a nonchalant chuckle as he turned to the nearby table for a bottle, then poured its content into a cup. He turned then walked towards her and held the cup out for her to take it.

"What is that?" she asked raising her eyes from the cup to his.

"T'is pirates brew. Rum."

Her face warmed. "I can not drink that, it is not proper."

He remained silent still holding it out to her.

"Do you not have water or tea?" she fidgeted with the buttons on her blouse.

Looking at the cup wearily.

"Why no, M'lady. You see the water in the barrels below deck have become stale. And my men have forgotten to load the Crumpets and Tarts aboard ship. I am afraid this may have to do."

She frowned as he gave her a sloppy bow. He was mocking her. Their gazes met, his held an amusing twinkle as he held the cup out to her.

"You're an impossible rogue," she whispered with restrained anger and fighting the tears threatening to surface.

"You wound me, lass. And here I thought you were grateful for all that I have done for you," he drawled.

She said nothing as a slow teasing smile curved his lips.

She had no choice in the matter unless she preferred to die of thirst. She angrily reached for it and pressed it to her lips and tossed back the firey liquid that traveled down her throat leaving a burning trail down to her stomach.

His satisfied smile infuriated her as she wheezed and coughed a bit.

"I think it is best if you get some rest," he said slowly standing and placing the bottle back on the table.

"I am perfectly fine, I have been in bed for too long," she argued.

"Aye, but you need your strength. In the meantime, I will bring some broth for you-," he turned in time to see her fast asleep.

He walked slowly over towards her and stood staring down at her. Sighing with exhaustion, he intended to finally turn away and leave the cabin. But instead, he found himself staring down at her, fixated on her sleeping form on the bed. Her chest's slow rise and fall were from calm, peaceful breaths no doubt from the effects of the rum. Because without it he was sure she would have argued and put up a fight. He found it impossible to believe she would have given in any other way. He chuckled over the idea of it.

Reluctant to leave, a part of him wanted to stay and enjoy the sight of her peacefully resting on his pillows. Even if it was for that brief moment. It was something he never witnessed.

Being amongst a bunch of blood-thirsty pirates that chose wenching and debauchery as the highlight of their days...never afforded him that.

In sleep, she didn't just look soft and vulnerable. She looked innocent. Sweet even.

Without the swirling defiance in her stormy eyes or the jut in her jaw ready for battle, she was so completely different.

He inched closer and gently brushed aside a loose tendril of her hair from her cheek. Then suddenly with a swift lapse of common sense, he lowered his head and brushed his lips across her cheek. He made a fatal mistake but was too far gone to correct it as he inhaled deeply her scent. Clenching his jaw, he fought for control and the stirring within him and he pulled away. Standing there lost and perturbed, shook his head.

"You idiot!" his mind screamed.

The battle with his emotions continued in his head until he finally gave up.

With that last thought, he looked her over once before walking swiftly out of the cabin.

Above deck, he drew in a deep smell of sea salt-filled air before tightly closing his eyes. She affected him more than he wanted to admit.

And he needed to correct this before it completely got out of hand.

*******

Here you go guys

I know it lacks substance but im working my way up to the good stuff.