Captive of My Desires (23 page)

G
ABRIELLE HAD NO IDEA HOW LONG
D
REW HAD LET HER SLEEP.
It was still dark outside the single porthole the cabin contained, so the sky gave her no indication. And actually, he didn’t wake her at all, at least it didn’t appear so. He was sitting at the little table that could squeeze in four for a meal, but more comfortably sat two.

The chair he was using was turned toward the bed, so he’d probably been watching her at some point. Right now he was staring in the vicinity of his feet, which were crossed and stretched out before him. He looked deep in thought. His expression wasn’t guarded: he was frowning.

She’d barely moved, just turned her head enough to locate him in the room. She was quite sure he didn’t even know she was awake, which suited her just fine for the moment. She still had no idea how he’d gotten loose from his chain. Someone had to have helped him, but who, when his own crew were secured? It had to have been one of the new men that Ohr had signed on in London. Maybe one of them had known Drew or one of his crew and had just bided his time to help them escape. And if he was loose, then his men probably were, too, and that meant her men were…

God, she was afraid to even guess what the Americans had done to reclaim their ship. They wouldn’t have been warned as her crew had been, to make sure no one was hurt. They’d have no reason to go easy on “pirates.” Just the opposite, especially after spending a week incarcerated. Ohr? Richard? Were they even still alive?

Then a new thought snuck up on her that was just as disturbing, but in a different way. What had occurred in that bed. She could even still smell him there, the scent of him surrounding her, reminding her of her fall from grace. What an absolute fool she’d been to even think that could have been a dream. Well, she’d known it wasn’t a dream after his first few kisses and caresses, so she didn’t even have that as an excuse. Not that there could be any excuse, no matter the reason, to absolve her from the simple fact that she’d
wanted
it to happen.

She thrust those thoughts aside as well. She had to turn this situation back around to her favor. Her father’s release, maybe even his life, depended on it, not to mention she was going to end up in a dungeon herself if Drew had his way. And while he was distracted with his own thoughts, she had the perfect opportunity.

She didn’t even need to form a plan. She still had Drew’s pistol tucked away in one of her bags. She just had to get to it before he could stop her.

She shot out of bed and leapt toward her bags. She opened the right one and bent over to rummage through it.

He didn’t yank her away from it. He didn’t even move. “Looking for this?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, saw the pistol in his hand, pointing toward the ceiling. He must have searched the room for it while she was sleeping or, more likely, before he even came near her bed. He wouldn’t want to take any chances now that he was free.

Immensely disappointed that the only easy way to regain control was gone, she straightened and slowly turned around to face him. Only then did she realize that she was standing there naked. His eyes dropped immediately to her breasts and stayed there.

She didn’t panic or expire of shame, it was too bloody late for that. She did reach behind her, pulled a robe from the wardrobe, and slipped it on, denying him the view he seemed to be enjoying so much. He sighed to show his disappointment, but she didn’t buy it. It sounded too exaggerated.

Belting the robe, she spat just a single word at him. “How?”

She didn’t need to elaborate, he knew exactly what she was asking. And
now
he was grinning. God, he was so pleased with himself, the blighter. It was enough to turn her stomach.

“An excellent question,” he replied. “I’d even tried it myself, but with no luck.”

“What?”

“I’m getting to that,” he said, and continued to take his sweet time about it. “You see, there’s a little something you didn’t know about my first mate. Timothy has a very real problem with confined spaces. We spent the night in jail once after he’d nearly demolished a tavern and he actually bent the bars, trying to get out. If you must know, I’m surprised he lasted this long.”

“You’re saying he actually got out of that iron shackle we put on his ankle?”

“No, he’s still wearing it as far as I know, it’s just no longer attached to anything that hinders his movements. He waited for your crew to get lax with the assumption that no other trouble would occur, before he yanked his chain off the wall and easily removed the wood that boarded up the hole he’d previously made in his wall.”

“What have you done with my crew?”

The grin remaining prominent on his lips, he said, “What do you think?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking,” she snarled.

He chuckled, still immensely enjoying their changed circumstances. “Your men were safely tucked away in those pleasant accomodations you supplied for my crew. And then I came straight here to take care of you.”

And he’d certainly done that. They both grew quiet and thought about what they’d done in this room last night. What a fool she’d been to believe his sweet, seductive words! But she wanted so badly to know what his lovemaking would be like.

His amusement immediately departed, he asked hesitantly, “I don’t suppose it’s your time of the month?”

She glared at him. She’d seen the smeared blood on her thighs, too, before she’d closed the robe. “No, it isn’t.”

“If I had thought, for even a minute,” he said, his tone quite sober now, “that you were a virgin, that wouldn’t have happened.”

She found that doubtful, considering what a scoundrel he was, but she merely said, “And why did you take it for granted that I wasn’t a virgin?”

“Because you’re a damned pirate.”

She couldn’t find fault with his logic, when that’s what she had wanted him to think, but her tone was still bitter when she replied, “Ruined one way or the other, there’s not much difference as I see it.”

She was talking about the scandal he’d left behind for her in England, as well as what had occurred between them last night. But she had a feeling he didn’t realize that, that he had only the one thing on his mind when he rejoined, “I’ll make that up to you.”

“How can you? It’s not something you can just give back, you bastard.”

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “But my amends would be to not have you tossed in jail with the rest of your crew when we make port.”

Was that actual guilt she was hearing in his voice? If it was, then she had an edge and needed to try to use it.

“That isn’t going to do me much good when I still have to rescue my father.”

He slanted a single brow upward. “You’d rather go to jail as well?”

“Of course not, but I can’t get my father out of that dungeon by myself. I’ll need help.”

“So that tale you spun about him was true?”

She sighed. Had he really thought she’d lied just for an excuse to take his ship? Dense man, pirates didn’t need excuses.

“Of course it’s true, and it’s a bloody fortress he’s being kept in. And the ransom Pierre is demanding is more than I’m willing to pay.”

“You don’t have the money? I thought you came into an inheritance.”

“If that was the demand there would be no problem, but that isn’t what Pierre wants. He’s asked for my father’s maps, and I have to be the one who delivers them.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re too selfish to give up some old maps for your father’s life?”

She gasped. To go by his expression, he seemed to regret having said it. But he’d said it, revealing his real opinion of her, and despite the fact that she despised him as well, it still cut her deeply.

“I didn’t really mean that,” he amended.

“No, you’re right. Pierre will kill my father, but he won’t kill me, so in a way I am being selfish by not giving him what he wants.”

“Do you even have the maps?”

She waved her hand impatiently. “They aren’t important, they’re merely his excuse. This isn’t the first time he’s tried to get his hands on me.”

Drew sat forward. “Wait a minute, you’re saying
you
are the ransom?”

“Did I forget to mention that?”

He reacted to her sarcastic tone by sitting back again and crossing his arms over his chest. Then he shrugged to show he couldn’t care less. “If it’s not a position you want to be in, I’m sure you’ll figure a way out of it. You pirates are nothing if not resourceful.”

She remembered his brief moment of guilt and said,
“You
could help me.”

He actually burst out laughing. “Nice try, wench, but not a chance.”

“Your brother-in-law, James, would have,” she pointed out stiffly.

“Then you should have asked him.”

She gritted her teeth. “You could at least leave me my crew.”

“Forget it. I warned you what would happen when you stole my ship. And there’s only one reason you’re not going to jail with the rest of them. I’d keep that in mind because it’s a decision that
can
be reversed very easily. So I’d drop it if I were you.”

He wasn’t going to give any ground, obviously, and she wasn’t about to plead with him, so she started walking back to her bed. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now and let me get some sleep,” she said frostily.

He laughed again, but this time there was too much male satisfaction in it, which was all the warning she needed to know she wouldn’t like what he was going to say next. For once, she wished she was wrong.

“There’s no lock on the door of this cabin, but you’ll be glad to know I’m going to give you the same courtesy you gave me, wench. Shall we?”

He’d stood up and was holding his arm out to indicate the door. She marched stiffly toward it, but stopped when she realized she was wearing only the robe and nothing under it. While it might not make any difference to him, she’d rather not finish the voyage half dressed. Nor was she going to count on his supplying her with a change of clothes, so she went back to the wardrobe and stuffed some of her garments into her carpetbag before she headed to her new prison.

“S
AME COURTESY” REALLY HAD BEEN THE KEY PHRASE.
Gabrielle had actually assumed she’d be put in the hold with her crew, but that’s not what she’d done with Drew, and he was giving her back tit for tat exactly, including the same area of his cabin that he’d occupied—and the shackle.

He put the damn thing on her himself and seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in doing so. Unlike Timothy’s chain, Drew’s was still firmly attached to the wall. It had been removed from him normally, the tools that had opened it still lying there on the floor. So it was in good if rusty shape, for her use.

But Drew didn’t need to use the tools. He pulled a padlock out of his pocket that he must have found before he went looking for her, proving that this had been what he intended for her before he even entered her cabin. Had he intended the lovemaking, too, or had that, at least, been spontaneous? She wasn’t going to ask.

She tried to ignore his fingers touching her leg as he fastened the cold metal around her bare ankle, but like everything else that had occured tonight, she had no luck with that either. She watched him, though, with a mixture of rage and bruised feelings. There was a tightness in her chest, but she couldn’t imagine what was causing it. Indigestion, she hoped.

He glanced up to smile at her when he was done. She glared back at him. He chuckled softly and moved over to his bed. He removed only his boots and shirt to sleep, stretched widely with his arms, then almost dove at the soft mattress. It was a wonder the bed didn’t break with that much weight falling on it. Turning over on his back, he crossed his arms behind his head. His sigh of pleasure filled the entire room.

But less than a minute later he said, “Damn, I can smell you on my pillow.”

“So wash it,” she shot back.

He laughed and turned over, facing away from her, and about ten minutes later she heard some quiet snoring. She ought to make some noise to wake him. He’d certainly tried to keep her awake when their positions had been reversed, and with the most outlandish descriptions of how he wanted to pleasure her, too. She was going to have to give that some thought. Tit for tat in that regard? After all, just because he had his ship back didn’t mean she was going to abandon her plan of revenge. Although how she could ever make herself attempt to entice a scoundrel, no, a
blackguard,
no, a
devil
like Drew Anderson, she didn’t know. She shook her head and took stock of her surroundings.

He’d left burning the lamp that was bolted to his desk. So she could see to get settled in? No, he probably just forgot to extinguish it, or maybe it was a habit of his, to sleep with a light. But it made it easy to see that the bedding he’d been given was still there for her to use, as well as the chamber pot, which was thankfully empty at the moment, and his empty plate from dinner.

Her eyes went back to the chamber pot and stayed there with a frown. Good heavens, how was she going to manage that now? Would he give her any privacy at all? If he didn’t, she’d make him wish he had. She’d just have to forget the word “embarrassment” for a while.

She started to change her clothes to get more decent to sleep but stopped, deciding she’d rather have the loose comfort of the robe. Actually…

Why not? She took the robe off, too. Let him have an eyeful in the morning if he bothered to look. It might make him wild with desire, which she could then nip in the bud, because she wasn’t about to let
that
happen again. The more he wanted her, the closer she’d get to her revenge. But what if he didn’t want her anymore, now that he’d had her? Damn, she hadn’t thought of that. Well, she wouldn’t know the answer to that until another day. For now, she had to
try
to get some sleep herself.

With a sigh she lay down and wrapped herself in Drew’s blankets—bloody hell, she could smell
him,
too. She was going to have to demand fresh bedding. Tomorrow. Pulling her legs up to curl into a ball, she felt that cold iron scrap against her ankle.

She sighed again and sat back up to examine the metal constriction; precisely, she tested how rough the shackle was going to be against her skin. It had abraded his. She’d like to avoid that if she could. It had been much tighter on him, of course. It had been built for a man’s foot, not a woman’s. She moved it to see how much give and take she actually had, then stared incredulously as it slipped right off her foot.

She had to put her hand over her mouth to help conceal her laughter. And she didn’t waste a moment, immediately slipping her robe back on and tiptoeing straight to the door. And she found it locked tight.

She silently swore a blue streak to herself as she returned to the bedding on the floor. She heard Drew mumble. He’d heard her. But he didn’t wake and she glared furiously at his naked back before she got back under the blankets. She even slipped the shackle back over her foot. There would be other opportunities when that door wouldn’t be locked. She smiled and looked forward to tomorrow.