Prisoner of Desire (15 page)

"It is quite unfair of you to mention such a lapse of discipline. I have no experience in dealing with advances. Since you claim to have brought me aboard only as a last resort, it falls to you to conduct yourself with honor."

The moonlight cast half his face into silver. He looked like some hero from legend, strong, undefeatable and irresistible. He sighed.

"Go below, Lorena, before I forget how correct you are."

"Sails on the horizon!"

With the windows open in the cabin, Lorena could listen to the orders on the deck above. She heard men running across the deck. Whether it was in excitement or fear, she wasn't sure.

Long moments passed, and after an hour, she couldn't resist knowing what was going on.

Pushing the cabin door open, she peered into the hallway. No one was in sight. A set of stairs led to the sunlight above. Grasping the handrail, she took care not to step on her skirts while she climbed.

Warren hadn't told her she couldn't appear on deck.

That was not the same thing as being granted permission, but sitting below wasn't going to tell her what was happening. Had Mordaunt found them? Icy dread locked its grip on her. She froze on the stairs. Truly, she hoped never to set eyes on the man again. His treatment of the men constructing the walls of his fort sickened her. Without a doubt, she would not many him.

Lorena finished climbing the stairs, leaving the matter of just what she would do instead of marrying Adam Mordaunt. There would be time enough for contemplating that after she

discovered what ship was in sight.

The small hatch led to the command deck, in a very similar fashion to Captain Connelly's ship.

But the men crowded around the large wheel didn't keep their backs to her. Warren turned the second he caught movement behind him. His powerful body tensed, twisting around to

investigate. The look in his eyes made her shiver. Just for an instant she glimpsed the warrior he was. There was no hint of weakness, no hesitation. Nothing save pure intensity burning in his eyes. One hand automatically moved to clasp the butt of the pistol tucked into his wide belt.

This was the man who had placed a knife at her neck.

He was hardened by battle. She recognized the determination in his eyes. It was the part of him which prompted him to kidnap her. That hardened core made him into the sort of man others

followed when their lives were on the line.

It was only a momentary glimpse. One he covered quickly once recognition dawned on him. The men beside him looked at her curiously, several nods being directed at her. They watched and waited to see what the captain made of her presence. Lorena stepped all the way onto the deck, firmly planting her feet while staring straight into his eyes.

"Good afternoon, Miss St. John."

"Captain Rawlins."

She kept her voice cool but didn't miss the heat in his. It was almost undetectable, but her memory offered up those stolen moments on the beach. There was a hint of husky male interest that was hard to ignore.

A lifeboat hit the water, shattering the silence. Looking across the deck, Lorena stared at another ship. A hundred yards off, it sat anchored in the protective cove of a small island which looked deserted. She could see all the way across it, to the opposite shore. A few trees grew up in the center of it, but nothing else. The ship looked fragile, as though one good storm might swallow it up.

"That's the sweetest damn sight I ever laid eyes on." Garrick took the front steps two at a time, his long legs spanning the distance with ease. He was already on the command deck when he

noticed her. A gleam entered his dark eyes.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am." His voice was coated with joy. He turned to look at the ship.

"With new canvas, she'll sail smooth and true." His voice darkened now, a hint of concern in it.

"We'll keep pace with you." Warren sounded determined.

The reason was obvious. The other ship was missing most of her main mast. The two smaller

masts stood bare, not an inch of sail on them. She'd seen such damaged ships in the Northfleet harbor before, but this one looked ten times worse because of the open water around her. There were no carpenters on hand to help mend her, no supplies to replace what she was missing.

Sailors reached over the rail, their hands stretching toward the small boat that was bumping up alongside her hull. Creamy canvas was piled in the center of that boat. The men strained to grasp it.

Their plight sickened her.

"Why would anyone do such a thing?" The question slipped past her horror of seeing a ship left at the mercy of the elements. It baffled her with its cruelty. Warren and Garrick turned to consider her. Warren's expression warned her to leave it alone but she needed to know, needed to understand.

"Why take the sails when my countrymen had already taken what they wanted from the ship?"

She tore her eyes away from the Golden Dawn. Garrick's face was dark and unyielding. "What did Mordaunt want from you?"

"I should find my brother." Garrick went down the ladder before he finished making his excuse.

Lorena felt her frustration burn bright and she turned it on her captor.

"Tell me, Warren. I want to understand."

Surprise broke the mask he was hiding his feelings behind. Ronan's hand caught her attention, his thumb still black, the entire nail missing. She looked back at Warren. "Tell me what was so important men had to place other men in peril for it."

"And yourself."

She drew herself up straighter. "Precisely."

"The British navy is always interested in officers from other nations. They want information on the newest ships. Details on construction, cannon count and hands on board."

"And they cover their crime up with more atrocities." Her eyes shifted back to the Golden Dawn.

The first sail was being hoisted up into place. Sailors gathered around it, their relief clear.

Garrick appeared again with Harrison looking over his shoulder. He stared at her for a long moment.

"My apologies once again for involving you, Miss St. John." Garrick said.

A rather unladylike snort got past her lips. Lorena swept the two captains with her eyes.

"Indeed, gentlemen, I find myself rather content with the knowledge I was of assistance. Such behavior should not bestow rewards to those that employ barbarism." Her words rang out with the emotion that was boiling over every strict lecture she'd ever received about keeping her voice mild. She refused to care. She was happy to have foiled plans of murder. Leaving men, even

ones you considered your enemy, to die slowly at the hands of the elements was truly horrific.

"Quite content indeed."

Call her foolish, fine. She would shoulder the burden gladly. A flash of surprise covered

Garrick's face but he didn't remain on the command deck long enough to comment. The small

boat had returned, hitting the side of the Huntress.

"Since Holly takes to you so well, Miss St. John, I believe I shall leave her in your care until we return to Boston."

Warren growled. Garrick shrugged. "Provisions are bound to be running low on the Golden Dawn."

"I shall be delighted to keep company with Holly."

With a quick shake of Warren's hand, Garrick descended to the main deck, his pace lively.

Lorena watched the way he went toward his ship like a long-lost friend.

It was quite simply.. .beautiful.

"Did you really say you're content with being aboard my ship?"

Warren's voice was whisper soft. He released the wheel and tucked his hand into his belt. Alone for the moment on the command deck, his face took on a much more relaxed look. Heat flickered in his eyes.

"Do not read too much in that, Captain. I did not say I surrender to your will."

"But you did use my name." He moved closer, cutting off her escape options. Gooseflesh spread down her arms, a tremor making her unsteady. The reaction was instant and uncontrollable.

"A minor lapse, most likely inspired by your own lack of formality. Yet another reason we should maintain civilized behavior."

He chuckled, his lips curving. His gaze lowered to her mouth, lingering on the soft skin of her lips. Sensation rippled through her, touching off the desire to feel his kiss once more.

"Ah, but one broken stitch can lead to the unravelling of a seam."

"Only if one is careless enough not to mend the hole quickly."

His eyebrow rose. A moment later he captured her hand, encasing it inside his own. Just that small contact sent heat licking through her passage. He stroked the delicate skin of her inner wrist with his thumb and her breath rattled unevenly. Enjoyment surged through her too great to ignore. He stepped closer, dropping his voice into a husky whisper.

"You might find yourself more than merely content if you allowed that seam to unravel, Lorena."

His fingers glided along the underside of her wrist once again and he watched the shiver that resulted. "I think I might just pull on the loose thread myself."

Hard determination glittered in his eyes. A promise stared back at her while he made a final pass along her inner wrist. It shouldn't have felt so good. Nothing should be allowed to feel that good.

"We'll have to take up this topic later."

He moved back to the wheel, his attention returning to the men under his command. Lorena

glared at his wide shoulders, her temper rising.

But it wasn't really her temper. She turned around and stared over the rail as she recognized the truth. She wasn't mad, she was aroused. It was a ghastly thing to discover.

Arousal was that forbidden thing good girls only heard about in relation to fallen women.

But dishonesty was to be avoided too, so she faced the truth. Just as she'd acknowledged feeling good about being a help to the men struggling to rig up sails on the Golden Dawn. Garrick was rowing toward his vessel. She smiled but that happiness faded when she realized she was

completely under Warren's command now.

The problem lay in the jump of excitement such a fact drew from her. Well, she had meant what she said.

She had not voiced a surrender. Captain Rawlins could get used to that. She would ensure it.

Warren avoided her for the next few days. Tension began to knot the muscles of her neck. The nights were the worst. Her dreams had turned into sultry tapestries which included the firm kisses of Warren Rawlins. She could feel his embrace, even smell the scent of his skin. She awoke with need nipping along her limbs and swirling deep inside her passage. She was keenly aware that she slept in his bed. The same sheets touching her skin had slipped along his. It bored a hole in her mind, driving her out of the bunk while still tired.

The weather turned hellishly hot, baking the Huntress and everyone aboard her. The afternoon offered no cooling breeze. The sails only filled halfway and the ship slowed to a crawl.

Lorena left her stockings folded. She battled the urge to discard her petticoat every hour of the afternoon. She awoke with it twisted above her knees and had to force herself to push it back down her legs. On deck the men stripped down to their shirts. Their knitted caps were tucked into pockets and they sought out the few patches of shade when their duties permitted. Each day felt twice as long. The ship became quiet, the slap of the water against the hull loud. Water was rationed, so everyone tried to remain as still as possible to remain cool without sweating. Even conversation became sparse and lowered to whispers.

Her mind ran in circles while she jumped every time a knock landed on the cabin door. That

wasn't very often. Lady Holly became a friend, the pair of them looking to one another in the absence of anything else to do.

The parrot was really quite affectionate. She would puff up her feathers when she wanted to be scratched. When she wanted to be offered a finger to perch on, she would dance from side to side.

She also managed to secure a good portion of Lorena's food every day. But it was worth it for the companionship. Directly after breakfast, the bird would squawk until Lorena picked her up.

Holly would fluff her feathers and move around so that Lorena scratched every inch of her body, even flipping over onto her back to offer her belly. But by the third day without wind, the parrot didn't even roll over when someone rapped on the cabin door. She remained on her back as

loving as a kitten.

"How did you get that ornery creature to do that?"

Warren sounded grumpy. He scowled at the parrot. Holly dismissed him in favor of arching her neck so Lorena might continue scratching her. Lorena looked down at the bird, annoyed with the way her heart accelerated just because the man had come to visit her. Where was the

composure she'd spent three days reinforcing with words of logic?

"One should never underestimate the power of kindness."

Warren watched her hands moving on the bird for a long moment. Something flashed in his eyes that looked like jealousy. Her throat tightened and her mouth went dry. Her own fascination with him hadn't given rise to the idea that he longed for her touch.

"I give kindness when I might." He looked around the cabin, his face reflecting his ownership of it. Lorena bit her lower lip to avoid thanking him for the use of the space. She would not be grateful for using his cabin.

At least she would not say she was.

He wasn't annoyed with her silence. A gleam of appreciation entered his eyes. It surprised her because she'd never consider that any man might enjoy anything but obedience to their will.

There was no mistaking the way his eyes lit with enjoyment and something else that sent a shiver down her back. It was a hint of challenge which touched off excitement in the pit of her belly.

Excitement that was completely misplaced.

The cabin door was still open and a gust of wind blew through the windows and whistled out it.

After three days of stillness, she enjoyed the goose bumps that appeared on her arms.

"Aye, we have the wind again. There's rain on the horizon as well."