Lord of Temptation by Lorraine Heath Page A

demanded in payment. Stupid fool. He’d never in his life made a bargain in which he came out at the short end. He should have demanded one kiss every day. Instead he had only one for the entire journey. He had to make her want it so badly that she would willingly give him more. Because once he had his kiss, she had to initiate the next one. Unfortunately his wooing was on a schedule. He had to claim his kiss before they reached Scutari because once she visited with her fiancé, her love for him would be renewed and she would return to considering a kiss to Tristan as nothing more than a payment.
    With any luck, the winds would die and their arrival at their destination would be delayed. Perhaps he’d take a wrong turn, go down around the Cape of Good Hope, then across the Indian Ocean to tropical islands. Perhaps he could even convince her to embrace local customs and strut about in very little clothing. That thought brought a smile. She could very well be in little clothing now as she snuggled in his bed.
    His sheets, his cabin would smell of her when she left. No woman had ever been inside his domain. His men thought he was a bit mad to make this journey with two women in tow, but those who remained were being paid well enough for their services not to grumble.
    The unrelenting fog curled around him in the same manner as he wanted to curl around her—all encompassing, leaving nothing untouched. He wondered how far she would allow him to take the kiss. Not nearly as far as he wanted to take it, he was certain.
    Would her fiancé be returning with them? That was a disappointing thought that hadn’t occurred to him before. Not that it mattered. He didn’t want her for any longer than the voyage. As with all things in his life, the constancy of something bored him. He needed new adventures, new women, new challenges. But conquering her would be his greatest triumph.
    He would taunt her with that kiss until she was willing to give him everything.

Chapter 5
    A nne awoke to a gentle rocking and sunlight peering through mullioned windows. She was on the ship, on her way to Walter at last—and yet it was not visions of him that had filled her dreams. Rather it was one very dark blue-eyed devil whose nearness caused her skin to tingle with the need to be touched. She’d never experienced this sort of longing, wasn’t quite certain what to make of it. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before. He was a curiosity. That was all. If she but touched his bristly jaw, felt his lips pressed to hers, then her interest in him would be satisfied.
    Obviously her father was correct: it was time to leave her mourning behind. During the Season she was bound to meet someone who appealed with equal fervor. She was a young woman with needs. She’d been lonely for far too long. That’s all these strange yearnings signified: that she was not only receptive to a man’s attentions but in need of them.
    Captain Crimson Jack was simply very skilled at setting a woman’s blood to simmering.
    After nudging Martha awake, she dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the night before. She’d brought a special dress for her visit to Scutari, and a couple of other dresses to see her through the journey there and back. But she hadn’t set her cap on the captain so it mattered little if he saw her in the same clothes. In fact, it was probably better that she not go to much trouble in preparing for the day. She had no wish for him to think she had the slightest bit of interest in him. The ballrooms of London had no place for men of his roughened ilk.
    When Anne was ready, she allowed Martha to return to bed while she ventured out. When she reached the main deck, she squinted at the bright sunlight. She couldn’t recall it ever being so harsh in London. The men were about, all seemingly busy, but they each took a moment to doff their caps if they were wearing one or to touch two fingers to their brows if they weren’t. No one leered, no one made