Charlisse silently chastised herself for forgetting about that deviant rake, Kent. Of course he would come after Isabel. He was obsessed with the woman. How could she have let him slip from her mind? Merrick! It was all his fault. If she hadn't been forced to chase that perfidious … traitorous … back-stabbing looby across the CaribbeanGrrrshe wouldn't be in this situation, and neither would Isabel. Fuming, Charlisse paced the cabin.
"Blast it all!" She glanced up at the four men who stood staring at her with a mixture of sympathy and despair, awaiting her next command. Advancing toward them, she tripped over her sword. "This infernal thing!" Drawing it, she flung it at the wall, where it stuck by its tip before clanking to the floor. Stunned at her unusual outburst, the men remained silent.
She faced Jackson. "How long ago?"
"Not long, ma'am." He touched his wound and tried to sit up straight. "I feared he would take o'er the ship, but he must o' heard ye comin' and left."