to control his ragged breathing. He was moved yet again by the genuine apprehension he heard in her voice. Yet he could think of no explanation for her sudden rejection. Unless … “Why?” he demanded. “Is it because of who you are … who I am?”
“No … no.” Her voice shook from the intensity of the last moments’ emotions. “I told you I cannot … I’ve never …” She trailed off weakly.
Damn her, why did he believe her? Why, despite his unyielding conviction that all women were treacherous, did his mind refuse to doubt this woman’s sincerity? What was it about her that touched some unknown part of his heart that he had never known existed?
Damn her.
Drake released her so abruptly that she almost fell. Without a word he strode over to the desk, scooped up his clothes, and started dressing.
Alex was numb. She wrapped her arms around her shaking body and listened to him thrashing about. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Suddenly it had become important to her to know.
“Drake?” His name fell naturally from her lips. She couldn’t know the impact that single utterance had on his throbbing body, which still clamored for release.
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
Drake slammed into his boots, then stood and crossed the room.
“I’m leaving,” he shot back. “You’ve gotten your wish, princess. The cabin is yours.” He yanked open the door, allowing a weak shaft of light into the room.
To Alex he appeared furious, his jaw clenched, his eyes glittering as they studied her.
“I don’t understand.” She looked to him for clarification of his words. Even carelessly dressed, his black hair mussed, the shadow of a beard on his face, he was the most handsome and compelling man she had ever seen.
Drake took a deep, shuddering breath. In the dim light he could distinguish every one of Alex’s desirable curves beneath his billowy shirt. Her tawny hair was wildly tousled, her lips swollen from his kisses. She was positively bewitching. If he did not leave this minute he would go to her, take her to bed, and love her as she had never been loved before. And damn her protests to hell.
“The cabin is yours. For the duration of the trip I will share Smitty’s cabin.” He paused, wanting her, hating himself for wanting her. “Good night, princess.”
The door slammed and he was gone.
Alex stood where she was, feeling cold and alone. She had gotten her wish and her privacy—everything she had wanted.
She waited for relief to flood her senses, to ease her despair.
It did not surprise her that it was not forthcoming.
Chapter 6
T HE SAILS WERE BEING hoisted into a dawning sky as Alex poked her head topside. Clad in clean clothes, her stomach filled with the cook’s delicious breakfast, she was ready to tackle La Belle Illusion.
She watched, fascinated, as one hundred feet above her, two men hoisted the royals. With grace and precision they moved quickly from one line to the next, their muscles bulging from the strain. Minutes later a whoop of success signaled the unfurling of the final sail. Ahead the horizon promised sunshine and smooth seas.
A new day. Filled with new hope.
“Good morning, my lady.” Smitty came over to greet her.
A genuine smile of pleasure lit her face. “And a good morning to you, Smitty.”
“How was your first night aboard La Belle?” he asked without thinking.
A crimson stain spread across Alex’s face as she wondered how much Smitty knew of the previous night’s events. Perhaps her brazen behavior was now common knowledge aboard La Belle Illusion. The thought made her ill.
The moment the words had left his mouth, Smitty wanted to kick himself. Whatever had transpired between his captain and Lady Alexandria was none of his business. But her reaction to his question told him that she thought otherwise. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “The motion of the sea is not easy to become accustomed to,” he qualified. “It is for this reason
“No … no.” Her voice shook from the intensity of the last moments’ emotions. “I told you I cannot … I’ve never …” She trailed off weakly.
Damn her, why did he believe her? Why, despite his unyielding conviction that all women were treacherous, did his mind refuse to doubt this woman’s sincerity? What was it about her that touched some unknown part of his heart that he had never known existed?
Damn her.
Drake released her so abruptly that she almost fell. Without a word he strode over to the desk, scooped up his clothes, and started dressing.
Alex was numb. She wrapped her arms around her shaking body and listened to him thrashing about. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Suddenly it had become important to her to know.
“Drake?” His name fell naturally from her lips. She couldn’t know the impact that single utterance had on his throbbing body, which still clamored for release.
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
Drake slammed into his boots, then stood and crossed the room.
“I’m leaving,” he shot back. “You’ve gotten your wish, princess. The cabin is yours.” He yanked open the door, allowing a weak shaft of light into the room.
To Alex he appeared furious, his jaw clenched, his eyes glittering as they studied her.
“I don’t understand.” She looked to him for clarification of his words. Even carelessly dressed, his black hair mussed, the shadow of a beard on his face, he was the most handsome and compelling man she had ever seen.
Drake took a deep, shuddering breath. In the dim light he could distinguish every one of Alex’s desirable curves beneath his billowy shirt. Her tawny hair was wildly tousled, her lips swollen from his kisses. She was positively bewitching. If he did not leave this minute he would go to her, take her to bed, and love her as she had never been loved before. And damn her protests to hell.
“The cabin is yours. For the duration of the trip I will share Smitty’s cabin.” He paused, wanting her, hating himself for wanting her. “Good night, princess.”
The door slammed and he was gone.
Alex stood where she was, feeling cold and alone. She had gotten her wish and her privacy—everything she had wanted.
She waited for relief to flood her senses, to ease her despair.
It did not surprise her that it was not forthcoming.
Chapter 6
T HE SAILS WERE BEING hoisted into a dawning sky as Alex poked her head topside. Clad in clean clothes, her stomach filled with the cook’s delicious breakfast, she was ready to tackle La Belle Illusion.
She watched, fascinated, as one hundred feet above her, two men hoisted the royals. With grace and precision they moved quickly from one line to the next, their muscles bulging from the strain. Minutes later a whoop of success signaled the unfurling of the final sail. Ahead the horizon promised sunshine and smooth seas.
A new day. Filled with new hope.
“Good morning, my lady.” Smitty came over to greet her.
A genuine smile of pleasure lit her face. “And a good morning to you, Smitty.”
“How was your first night aboard La Belle?” he asked without thinking.
A crimson stain spread across Alex’s face as she wondered how much Smitty knew of the previous night’s events. Perhaps her brazen behavior was now common knowledge aboard La Belle Illusion. The thought made her ill.
The moment the words had left his mouth, Smitty wanted to kick himself. Whatever had transpired between his captain and Lady Alexandria was none of his business. But her reaction to his question told him that she thought otherwise. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “The motion of the sea is not easy to become accustomed to,” he qualified. “It is for this reason
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