Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
The prisoners tensed, looking to Madwulf. He ground his teeth, and a moment later, gave them a nod.
One by one, sweaty fingers sprang open and slipped off my body, leaving me to stand on my own, unfettered, and mostly covered by Priest’s shirt.
“You.” Lord Cutler slapped the severed beard into my hand. “Come with me.”
He pivoted on his gold-buckled shoes and strode out, expecting me to obey.
For better or for worse, I tossed the beard to Madwulf and followed.
By the time we arrived at Lord Cutler’s quarters, my nauseating terror of forty men had trickled into the uncertain fear of one.
Cutler was only a single threat. But he was the strongest, most powerful of them all, and I didn’t have an inkling what he meant to do with me.
At the cabin door, a blue-coated soldier stood rigidly at attention. Armed to the teeth with pistols and blades, he was assigned to guard the life of the most valuable man on the ship.
“Sergeant Smithley.” Cutler gripped my elbow and yanked me against his side. “This prisoner will be staying in my quarters. She’s under my protection, and at no time will you thwart her actions or engage with her in any way. Do I make myself clear?”
Tingling jolts hit my circulation. From the heat of his hand on my arm? Or was it the unexpected order he gave his sergeant? Surely, he didn’t expect me to behave just because he’d rescued me from Madwulf?
Staring straight ahead, the guard didn’t shift his gaze. Didn’t choke in surprise. Didn’t move anything except his lips. “Yes, my lord.”
None of this made sense.
“What if I attack him? Would he not defend himself?” I jerked my arm from Cutler’s grip.
He released me. “If you harm a single hair on any of my men, you’ll return to the hold with your friends.”
“Yes. Right. Let’s discuss that. Your timing down there was—”
Cutler entered his quarters, leaving me standing there talking to myself.
Outrageous.
I charged after him and staggered into a huge, moonlit dining cabin. Already dusk?
An adjoining day cabin and sleeping chamber lay just aft. I craned my neck, taking in the three spaces that made up the commodore’s private domain, which took over the entire stern of HMS Blitz’s upper deck.
I knew royal quarters like this existed but had never seen one. I tried not to be impressed.
He lit a lantern, then several more, illuminating charts and maps and papers stacked neatly on the table. The room said so much about him. And nothing interesting.
He liked maps. He liked to read. He lived to work. Did his dullness never cease?
I didn’t see bottles of rum, tobacco, whips and chains, or trunks filled with showy, impractical finery. Though he must have an elaborate wardrobe somewhere in here with large doors and drawers to store his embroidered coats and buckled footwear.
“As I was saying…” I ambled around the table, absently picking through the papers. “Your timing in the hold was impeccable. Deliberate. You waited until the very last moment to…”
He put toe to heel and slipped off his shoes, kicking them aside.
I blinked in confusion. “Were you watching the cage from around the corner? Waiting for that animal to put something other than his fingers inside me?”
His blue frock and white shirt came off next. He draped both over a nearby chair.
Muscles? Yes, he had bricks of them. He wasn’t as thickly built as Priest, but sharp outlines and flat hairless surfaces fashioned his masculine form as if hewn with a chisel.
I ate him up with my eyes, heating with female appreciation, clenching my hands, and losing my train of thought.
“You’re staring.” He removed his weapons—two blades he used on Madwulf—and set them on the table.
“Why did you put me in the hold with them if you knew what would happen?”
“I wanted you to know what would happen. Let it serve as a warning. Next time, I won’t intervene.”
Next time.
My pulse accelerated. There was no mistaking his meaning.
I was on probation. If I made him angry, he would throw me back in the hold with forty hot-blooded pirates who now blamed me for their captain’s embarrassment.
Good thing I chose the beard.
Cutler’s eyes—darker and deeper blue than mine—roamed over me, cutting, calculating. “You’re tougher than you look.”
Seeing him shirtless and shoeless in all his godlike beauty, a woman could misconstrue that statement.
But he wasn’t Priest. He wasn’t vulgar in mind. Wasn’t trying to charm his way between my legs. I guessed he wasn’t even thinking about fornication.
“What are you saying?” I crossed my arms.
“I’ve never met a siren, but you must be of the same ilk or nature. Unchristian, mysterious, dangerously enticing… If you think to lure me with those eyes and enchant me to shipwreck, you have the wrong sailor.”
My eyes? I blinked them slowly, stunned speechless. Perhaps I didn’t know his mind after all.