Souls Aflame by Patricia Hagan

buttocks, slamming them painfully against the rough deck, at the same time spreading her thighs more widely apart with a quick swing of his knees. She lay completely vulnerable beneath him…helpless.
    With one hand, he held her arms above her head. Then he covered her mouth with his hot, seeking lips, stifling her screams as he used his free hand to maneuver himself to enter her.
    Julie’s cries melded into the sounds of the revelry beyond and disappeared on the night wind like a fragile bird caught in a gale.

Chapter Four
    No one had noticed the man standing topside on the ship’s bridge. Hidden by the shadows, he was watching the scene below with agitated interest.
    So that was the beauteous Julie Marshal, he observed curiously. He found her every bit as lovely as his first officer had said she was. The moonlight brushed her ebony hair with silver dust, and her face was a delicate sculpture of loveliness in the light’s heavenly glow.
    Even from where Derek Arnhardt stood, he could see that the young woman was generously endowed. He stared at the rise and fall of her bosom as she lifted her voice in song. Exquisite breasts, he thought, opening and closing his fingers as though actually caressing the firm, tender flesh. It had been a long time since he had pleasured himself with a woman, and he felt as though his eyes were feasting on the most beautiful specimen he had ever seen.
    Something caught his eye, and he realized suddenly that a jug was being passed around. He slammed his fist against the wooden railing. This was the reason he had wanted her kept below. A woman was bad luck on a ship, especially one such as his, and she did not realize how she was incensing his men.
    He noticed that she appeared frightened and was moving sideways along the railing, away from the crowd of men. Good. Perhaps there would be no trouble. In a little while, he would send Garris and his men down there to break up the revelry. For the moment, he would allow the crew to carry on since they were going to be punished anyway for breaking the rules about drinking onboard.
    He drew on his pipe thoughtfully, thinking how Julie’s fright was probably teaching her a lesson. She would, no doubt, be glad to stay below for the remainder of the voyage.
    The door behind him opened, and he turned to see Edsel Garris stepping up beside him. Scanning the scene, he sucked in his breath, shocked, then faced his captain to cry, “Sir, she left the dining room over an hour ago and said she was retiring for the night. I had no idea she’d slipped up on deck. And those men appear to be drinking—”
    “They’re drunk, most of them,” Derek commented tonelessly. “Someone began passing the jug, and what started out as a quiet little song fest is now a bawdy party.”
    He had been facing Edsel, and now he turned his gaze back to the deck. Leaning forward, he cried, “Goddammit, she’s struggling with someone. Get down there quick—”
    But Edsel was already through the door, taking the thin plank steps two at a time. The first officer made his way down below, yelling for Watson and Justice to come quickly and bring their side arms. They answered his call, demanding to know what was happening, but he cried that there was no time to explain, and urged them to hurry.
    The three crashed through the opening onto the deck, pistols drawn. The crewmen, drunk though they were, saw them and immediately the revelry ceased, as though a giant, unseen hand had passed and dropped a shroud of silence over them.
    Then they could all hear it—the muffled cries and moans as Julie struggled in the darkness beyond with Shad. The sailors moved aside as the officers picked their way over the riggings and ropes, making their way toward the sounds.
    Shad Harky was on top of Julie, about to force himself inside her. Edsel swore as he swung his booted foot to kick the side of the boatswain’s head, sending him sprawling sideways with a startled cry of pain. Floyd reached to