chin held high. But Drake could see her lips tremble.
“May I douse the light?” she asked in a small voice. “Or am I to be denied even a shred of privacy?”
The urge to hold her was so strong at that moment that Drake couldn’t speak. He merely nodded, wrestling with the conflicting emotions that plagued him.
“Thank you.” Alex turned down the lamp, plunging the room into utter darkness.
Drake listened to the rustling sounds that told him she was undressing. He visualized her gradually exposed beauty, as each article of clothing was discarded, revealing the naked splendor beneath. His heart quickened; his loins tightened painfully. Desperately he tried to focus on something else, but his brain stubbornly insisted on conjuring up images of Alexandria. Naked. Alone with him in his cabin. At his mercy … in his arms … beneath his body.
He shifted, groaning inwardly. His craving for her was astounding. Having spent his entire adult life being sought after by women, Drake regarded sex as an easily acquired, easily forgotten commodity. It was a sport that was thoroughly enjoyed by his body, rarely involving his mind and never touching his heart, for he knew firsthand how little the act of love actually meant. Once passion was spent, it was gone, as was the bed partner. For that reason Drake kept himself always, always in control.
But suddenly he knew that control was waning, that he would not be able to restrain himself during the months to come.
Drake made a decision. The moment Alexandria was safely tucked beneath the bedcovers, he would go to Smitty’s cabin and bunk with him for the duration of the voyage. For despite his own physical need and the great satisfaction he would derive from their coupling, the last thing Drake wanted was to become involved with Lady Alexandria Cassel. The price was simply too high.
The cabin was silent. Drake could sense Alex’s presence nearby, and he knew instinctively that she was not in bed.
“Princess?”
He heard her jump. “What is it?”
He cleared his throat. “Is there some problem?”
“No … yes …” She paused. “May I use your basin and some water to wash the dirt from my face?”
Drake smiled in the darkness. “Go right ahead. And, princess … if you can find your way around in the dark, help yourself to one of my shirts. They are clean and more than large enough to protect your modesty.”
Again, silence. Then, “Thank you, Captain.”
Her bare feet padded across the room. Drake listened to her opening the heavy chest, taking out one of his shirts, and slipping it on. Splashing sounds told him she was washing, followed by her soft footsteps as she returned to her cot. Then a thud and a cry of pain.
Drake was out of bed in an instant, moving toward the sound of her choked cry.
“Alexandria? What is it?”
“I walked into the cot,” she whimpered.
“Are you badly hurt?”
In truth she was not. It had been a sudden painful blow, yet already the pain was subsiding to a dull throb. But it was more than she could withstand after her emotionally taxing day. Hot tears filled her eyes, spilled down her cheeks. Try though she would, she could not control the sobs that shook her.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I never cry … and it is not that bad a bruise … I just can’t …” She shook her head helplessly, covering her eyes with trembling hands.
There was no forethought. Drake reacted instantly, pulling her into his arms.
“Shhh,” he soothed, pressing her head against his chest. He felt her tears drenching his bare skin, her narrow shoulders shaking. “It’s all right, sweetheart … don’t cry,” he murmured, raising her chin with his forefinger, wishing he could see her face. He stroked his other hand down her back, pressing her closer to him.
They became aware of each other at the same moment. He was totally naked. She was clad only in a thin white shirt. She needed comfort. He needed more.
Drake found Alex’s mouth
“May I douse the light?” she asked in a small voice. “Or am I to be denied even a shred of privacy?”
The urge to hold her was so strong at that moment that Drake couldn’t speak. He merely nodded, wrestling with the conflicting emotions that plagued him.
“Thank you.” Alex turned down the lamp, plunging the room into utter darkness.
Drake listened to the rustling sounds that told him she was undressing. He visualized her gradually exposed beauty, as each article of clothing was discarded, revealing the naked splendor beneath. His heart quickened; his loins tightened painfully. Desperately he tried to focus on something else, but his brain stubbornly insisted on conjuring up images of Alexandria. Naked. Alone with him in his cabin. At his mercy … in his arms … beneath his body.
He shifted, groaning inwardly. His craving for her was astounding. Having spent his entire adult life being sought after by women, Drake regarded sex as an easily acquired, easily forgotten commodity. It was a sport that was thoroughly enjoyed by his body, rarely involving his mind and never touching his heart, for he knew firsthand how little the act of love actually meant. Once passion was spent, it was gone, as was the bed partner. For that reason Drake kept himself always, always in control.
But suddenly he knew that control was waning, that he would not be able to restrain himself during the months to come.
Drake made a decision. The moment Alexandria was safely tucked beneath the bedcovers, he would go to Smitty’s cabin and bunk with him for the duration of the voyage. For despite his own physical need and the great satisfaction he would derive from their coupling, the last thing Drake wanted was to become involved with Lady Alexandria Cassel. The price was simply too high.
The cabin was silent. Drake could sense Alex’s presence nearby, and he knew instinctively that she was not in bed.
“Princess?”
He heard her jump. “What is it?”
He cleared his throat. “Is there some problem?”
“No … yes …” She paused. “May I use your basin and some water to wash the dirt from my face?”
Drake smiled in the darkness. “Go right ahead. And, princess … if you can find your way around in the dark, help yourself to one of my shirts. They are clean and more than large enough to protect your modesty.”
Again, silence. Then, “Thank you, Captain.”
Her bare feet padded across the room. Drake listened to her opening the heavy chest, taking out one of his shirts, and slipping it on. Splashing sounds told him she was washing, followed by her soft footsteps as she returned to her cot. Then a thud and a cry of pain.
Drake was out of bed in an instant, moving toward the sound of her choked cry.
“Alexandria? What is it?”
“I walked into the cot,” she whimpered.
“Are you badly hurt?”
In truth she was not. It had been a sudden painful blow, yet already the pain was subsiding to a dull throb. But it was more than she could withstand after her emotionally taxing day. Hot tears filled her eyes, spilled down her cheeks. Try though she would, she could not control the sobs that shook her.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I never cry … and it is not that bad a bruise … I just can’t …” She shook her head helplessly, covering her eyes with trembling hands.
There was no forethought. Drake reacted instantly, pulling her into his arms.
“Shhh,” he soothed, pressing her head against his chest. He felt her tears drenching his bare skin, her narrow shoulders shaking. “It’s all right, sweetheart … don’t cry,” he murmured, raising her chin with his forefinger, wishing he could see her face. He stroked his other hand down her back, pressing her closer to him.
They became aware of each other at the same moment. He was totally naked. She was clad only in a thin white shirt. She needed comfort. He needed more.
Drake found Alex’s mouth
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