LITMIR.BIZ

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actions you took in London.”

      She kept her expression bland and prayed he wouldn’t notice that her hands were trembling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I came with you because you made it clear your men would shoot Captain Chambers if I did not.”

      “So you were concerned for the captain’s welfare, not your own.”

      “That is correct.”

      “Why do you think I came for you?”

      “I have no idea.”

      “Really.”

      “None whatsoever.”

      “Perhaps you thought I meant to solicit a ransom for your return.” He strolled toward her, tall and dark, a panther on the prowl.

      “Do you?” Hoping her numb fingers would work, she reached up to work the clasp on her necklace. “If that is the case, perhaps you will take this in lieu of money. I as sure you the necklace is quite valuable.” And difficult as blazes to unfasten, as if the pearls had a will of their own.

      The captain walked toward her. “Perhaps I can assist you.” The clasp unfastened almost instantly, the necklace falling gently into the captain’s hand. “Lovely.” His fingers smoothed over the pearls. “I wonder how you got them.”

      “The pearls were a gift. Take them as payment and return me to the Lady Anne.”

      He laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound. “A gift. From an admirer, no doubt.” He rolled them from palm to palm, testing their weight, feeling their creamy texture, then dropping them carelessly onto his desk.

      “I’m not interested in your money, Miss Chastain.” Cold blue eyes swept her from head to foot, and a chilling smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “There are, however, other forms of payment I might consider.” His pale blue gaze came to rest on the curve of her breast, barely visible above the top of her aqua silk gown. “I’ll be busy for a while. I suggest you make yourself comfortable while I’m gone.”

      He plucked the necklace up off the desk, his long fingers curling around it. “Until later, Miss Chastain.”

      Grace watched him cross the cabin and close the door behind him. At sound of the latch falling into place, she re leased the breath she had been holding. The tears she had been fighting welled up and began to roll down her cheeks. Grace hurriedly wiped them away, determined no one would see them and especially not him.

      She had thought he meant to take her back to London, that he intended to return her to the magistrates to face charges for aiding a traitor’s escape. She had known it could happen, that she could be caught and imprisoned for what she had done.

      But she couldn’t abandon her father. Though she barely knew him and didn’t know if he were innocent or guilty, she simply could not stand by and let him hang.

      Ethan stood with his legs braced apart and his hands curved round the rail. He stared out at the inky water, his mind filled with images of Grace Chastain. Thoughts of her mingled with memories of the men in his crew, brave men, some of them married with families, men who had fought beside him over the years.

      He could still hear their screams through the walls of the prison.

      “The girl is no’ what I imagined.” He hadn’t heard Angus walk up beside him. “Just a lass, is all, no’ much more than three-and-twenty, maybe even less.”

      “Her age is hardly important. She set a murderer free. It is possible she was in collusion with him from the start. And there is a chance she may know where to find him.”

      Angus nodded. “Aye, that seems ta be the way of it.”

      Ethan stared back out at the water. A thin trickle of moonlight speared toward them as the ship cut through the sea. An icy wind whipped across the deck, slicing through his breeches, his heavy woolen coat and the full-sleeved shirt he wore underneath.

      “Perhaps she loved him.”

      Ethan’s jaw hardened. “The man had a wife and children. The girl is a whore.”

      Angus leaned his thick body against the rail. “I suppose that’s true, as well.” He fiddled with a bit of lint on the front of his heavy wool coat. “Now that ye’ve got her, what will ye do with her?”

      Ethan turned. “She was Jeffries’s whore. Tonight she’ll whore for me.”

      Angus said nothing, but Ethan didn’t miss the look of disapproval in his eyes. “Will ye force her?”

      He shook his head. “I won’t have to. She’s for sale, isn’t she?”

      Angus tugged his stocking cap a little lower over his wide forehead. “If she pays yer price, will ye set her free?”

      Ethan stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “Set her free?” He scoffed. “When I’ve had my fill—when I’m satisfied she can be no help in finding him—I’ll take her back to London and turn her over to the authorities. She’s committed a crime, Angus. She deserves to be punished for what she’s done.”

      The older man grunted. “I’ve a feeling the lass will be punished well and good before she ever gets back ta London.” Angus turned away and ambled toward the ladder leading down to his quarters.

      Ethan softly cursed. Angus hadn’t been with them on that last, fateful journey. Only Ethan and Long-boned Ned had fought alongside the crew of the Sea Witch against the thirty-five-gun frigate that had been hiding in wait off the foggy banks of France. The warship had known exactly where to find them. Her captain had been provided with secret information that would result in the capture of the Sea Witch’s captain and crew.

      Harmon Jeffries had sold out his country, and his mistress had arranged his escape.

      Ethan thought of the woman in his cabin. It was well after midnight. She would probably be sleeping. He imagined her lying naked in his bed, spread like an offering beneath him, and his body stirred to life. Desire pulsed through him and his shaft went hard.

      He would have her. He would bargain for her favors and pleasure himself until she begged him to stop.

      Until this night, he had never behaved as anything but a gentleman where a woman was concerned. The mistresses he had kept over the years had been treated well and fairly.

      But Grace Chastain was different. She deserved to pay and he intended to see it done.

      Frightened and uncertain and exhausted clear to her bones, Grace fought to stay awake. After the captain’s departure, she had curled up in a chair near the door and listened to every sound, certain her enemy would return any moment.

      The devil had made his intentions clear. He meant to take her innocence, to ravage her like the barbarian he was. But she would not make it easy. He was tall and strong, but she was smart and determined. She would fight him to the last, resist him with the last breath in her body.

      The hours ticked past. She could hear the chiming of the ship’s clock, marking every half hour, still he did not return. The roll and sway of the ship began to lull her, the soft rush of the waves against the hull. She tried to keep her eyes open, pinched herself to keep from falling asleep.

      But time crept past and sleep beckoned like a siren calling to an unwary sailor. Her eyes slowly closed. She never heard the door swing quietly open, never heard the sound of the captain’s tall black boots as he walked through the door.

      Ethan stood in the center of his cabin. If he had expected to find Grace Chastain undressed and comfortably settled in his bed he was sorely mistaken.

      Instead the girl huddled in the hard wooden chair in front of his desk, his silver-handled letter opener gripped defensively in her hand. Her head slumped forward onto her chest and the blanket around her shoulders had slid off onto the floor. Her hair was slightly mussed, her lips softly parted in slumber. She looked young and innocent and more enticing than any woman he had ever seen.

      He

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