skirts, thinking then that she had indeed lost her mind. She took the sponge, wet it and wrung it out, then gingerly started to clean the blood and soot from Jerome’s wounded flesh. She felt his eyes burning into her, but he didn’t move, and he didn’t flinch.
“Shall I assist?” Michael asked.
“I think Miss Magee can manage,” Jerome said evenly, and again, she felt his eyes.
Michael left. Jerome took a long swig of the rum. She did her best to be gentle as she cleaned the wound, and found herself thinking it was a pity that such supple bronzed flesh had been so brutally torn. She didn’t meet his gaze. She touched the needle to the flame in the lamp.
“What are you doing?”
“Some doctors believe it helps stop the spread of disease. I’ve been told that Julian is among them. He also believes that fresh sponges and bandages help the healing process,” she said.
“Fine.”
Risa threaded the needle with the sutures.
“Aren’t you supposed to warn me that it’s going to hurt like hell?” Jerome asked her, his hand catching hers momentarily.
She met his eyes at last. They were strikingly blue, hard as steel.
“It’s going to hurt like hell,” she told him.
He sniffed, released her hand, and chugged down more of the rum. Biting into her own lip, she began to stitch. She felt the fierce fire of his body warmth and the supple ripple of smooth muscle beneath her fingers. He never moved. When she was nearly done, he let out a growl-like groan of relief, and that was all. She tied off her handiwork, and stepped back. He all but finished off the rum, then decided to offer her some.
She shook her head.
“Go on. It might make your situation look better.”
“My situation is rather good right now, isn’t it? You said that you would let me go after you took the
Maid of Salem
.”
“There has been a change of plans.”
“What?” she demanded angrily.
“We must sail for the Bahamas immediately. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”
“The Bahamas? With me? You’re going to force me along—”
“I’ve really no choice,” he said, studying her pointedly. “Have I?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do.”
“I don’t. And of course you have a choice! It’s your ship, remember? Surely, a great hero such as yourself can—”
“I’m sorry. We’re going to the Bahamas. You’re to be my guest awhile longer.”
“Damn you, no!” she cried. She forgot her recent handiwork and struck out at him, gasping as she caught him in the chest with a powerful blow. His grunt and the massive constriction of his body as he staggered to his feet brought a cry of horror to her lips as she backed away from him. An apology hovered on her lips, but she never managed to voice it. He could still move with the speed of a jaguar. He was nearly atop her, his fingers viced around her own. The veins in his throat pulsed. His eyes glittered a vivid warning. The heat he emanated seemed to engulf her. She wanted to cry out and wrench away. Somehow, she stood her ground, returning his stare.
She heard the grating of his teeth before he spoke.
“You seem to think I’m a savage, Miss Magee. Just keep this up. You’re doing a damned fine job of turning me into one!”
“I didn’t mean—”
“The hell you didn’t!”
But he dropped her wrist, spun away, and headed toward the door. There he paused just briefly, looking back. “Despite your ever-so-kind administrations, I do assure you, it would give me tremendous pleasure to set you ashore. Unfortunately, there is no damned shore here!”
With that, he slammed his way out of the cabin.
Risa couldn’t stand. She was shaking too hard. She found herself sitting on the bunk again, more frightenedand dismayed than ever. Just how long could she possibly remain his prisoner before …
Before what?
She was afraid to ponder the question.
She had turned down the rum before. Now she leapt to her feet, rushed to the desk, and
“Shall I assist?” Michael asked.
“I think Miss Magee can manage,” Jerome said evenly, and again, she felt his eyes.
Michael left. Jerome took a long swig of the rum. She did her best to be gentle as she cleaned the wound, and found herself thinking it was a pity that such supple bronzed flesh had been so brutally torn. She didn’t meet his gaze. She touched the needle to the flame in the lamp.
“What are you doing?”
“Some doctors believe it helps stop the spread of disease. I’ve been told that Julian is among them. He also believes that fresh sponges and bandages help the healing process,” she said.
“Fine.”
Risa threaded the needle with the sutures.
“Aren’t you supposed to warn me that it’s going to hurt like hell?” Jerome asked her, his hand catching hers momentarily.
She met his eyes at last. They were strikingly blue, hard as steel.
“It’s going to hurt like hell,” she told him.
He sniffed, released her hand, and chugged down more of the rum. Biting into her own lip, she began to stitch. She felt the fierce fire of his body warmth and the supple ripple of smooth muscle beneath her fingers. He never moved. When she was nearly done, he let out a growl-like groan of relief, and that was all. She tied off her handiwork, and stepped back. He all but finished off the rum, then decided to offer her some.
She shook her head.
“Go on. It might make your situation look better.”
“My situation is rather good right now, isn’t it? You said that you would let me go after you took the
Maid of Salem
.”
“There has been a change of plans.”
“What?” she demanded angrily.
“We must sail for the Bahamas immediately. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”
“The Bahamas? With me? You’re going to force me along—”
“I’ve really no choice,” he said, studying her pointedly. “Have I?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do.”
“I don’t. And of course you have a choice! It’s your ship, remember? Surely, a great hero such as yourself can—”
“I’m sorry. We’re going to the Bahamas. You’re to be my guest awhile longer.”
“Damn you, no!” she cried. She forgot her recent handiwork and struck out at him, gasping as she caught him in the chest with a powerful blow. His grunt and the massive constriction of his body as he staggered to his feet brought a cry of horror to her lips as she backed away from him. An apology hovered on her lips, but she never managed to voice it. He could still move with the speed of a jaguar. He was nearly atop her, his fingers viced around her own. The veins in his throat pulsed. His eyes glittered a vivid warning. The heat he emanated seemed to engulf her. She wanted to cry out and wrench away. Somehow, she stood her ground, returning his stare.
She heard the grating of his teeth before he spoke.
“You seem to think I’m a savage, Miss Magee. Just keep this up. You’re doing a damned fine job of turning me into one!”
“I didn’t mean—”
“The hell you didn’t!”
But he dropped her wrist, spun away, and headed toward the door. There he paused just briefly, looking back. “Despite your ever-so-kind administrations, I do assure you, it would give me tremendous pleasure to set you ashore. Unfortunately, there is no damned shore here!”
With that, he slammed his way out of the cabin.
Risa couldn’t stand. She was shaking too hard. She found herself sitting on the bunk again, more frightenedand dismayed than ever. Just how long could she possibly remain his prisoner before …
Before what?
She was afraid to ponder the question.
She had turned down the rum before. Now she leapt to her feet, rushed to the desk, and
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