Jack pushed his lower lip against his top lip and made a face, then wandered over to the stairs and sat down next to her. Whatever the hell Elizabeth was thinking, she'd showed up right next to his ship. His. She was not getting away that easily.
"You," he said, putting the rum bottle carefully down by his boot, "are king for less'an an hour, to me, and already I've managed to make you ignore me." Jack leaned back on the stairs so that he was almost lying on them instead of sitting.
"Tha's a personal best, for me."
He lowered his eyes and then brought them back to hers. The questions were rapid fire and there were no breaths between them. "Whassin the bag, then? Valuable fings? Jar of dirt? No monkey, roight? Why did young Will think you loved me?"
Then there was a pause, like he knew he crossed a line.