his mother’s cry—as Father thrashed her mercilessly.
Adam cut through the terrain with quick and angry strides, tamped the grisly reflection into the very bowel of his soul. He might shun such cruelty against a woman, but he was accus tomed to it. Father had been a beast. A lifetime of hedonistic pursuits had put him into an early grave—and saved Mother from more misery. But had the former duke lived, Adam wondered if his mother, too, would be buried in a churchyard right now.
Adam returned to the cottage, a bundle of fabric tucked beneath his arm. He had been gone a good two hours. He should not have left Evelyn alone at the house, but the woman had insisted upon the material for the drapes. And he had already promised to purchase the fabric, so how could he avoid the trip into town?
Besides, it would do her good to be alone for a short while. He would not be beside her always— he had pirates to round up—so she had to learn to be comfortable with the cottage, to feel safe inside even when he wasn’t around.
But he still hurried back to the seashore.
As Adam approached the dwelling, he heard the soft humming, the light splash of water.
Curious, he rounded the cottage—and stilled.
Evelyn rested on a wide wood stump, a bowl of water in her lap. She was dressed in only a chemise and dabbed at her skin with a moist towel.
Adam was unprepared to confront the woman in such a tantalizing lack of dress. True, she’d re moved her clothes once before—in the course of drowning! He had overlooked the delicacy then. Now he had a moment to reflect, to observe her in the intimate act of bathing. And he was struck by the provocative sight.
She was blissful. With her eyes closed, she rubbed her neck, the line of her jaw. She moved the towel lower, to the tops of her breasts.
He had never noticed the deep swell of her breasts. But as she stroked the cleft of her bosom, he was privy to the lush round shapes, the deli cious curves.
It was the shattered bowl, as Evelyn tossed it, that shattered Adam’s reverie. He quickly turned around to offer her privacy.
“I’m sorry—”
“I didn’t expect—”
The couple expressed sentiments simultaneously.
“I’m sorry,” said Adam again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She stammered, “I-I didn’t expect you home so soon.”
He heard her gather her clothes in a hurry. He now better understood why she had insisted he fetch the material for the drapes. The woman had wanted some time alone to see to her more personal needs. He was such an inconsiderate ass. He needed to offer her more privacy in the future.
Looking for some way to defuse the uncomfort able situation, he said in a casual manner: “I have the fabric for the drapes. I purchased a needle and thread. Shears, too.”
She struggled with her dress; he could hear her fretful movements. “I’ll get started on the stitching.”
“There’s no rush.”
Adam set the linen and sewing implements aside. It was only then, as he twisted his body, that he noticed the stiffness in his muscles and joints. He searched for a distraction. Any distraction.
“Something smells good,” he said.
She was covered in lemon soapsuds; the sweet citrus fragrance filled the air.
“In the house,” he was quick to clarify.
“Oh, it’s luncheon.”
He started for the door. “Why don’t I set the table.”
Inside the cottage Adam sucked in a deep breath to chill the heat in his belly. But the allur ing image of Evelyn’s sultry figure was burned into his memory. And the more he thought about her, the more his own body burned.
He shouldn’t feel this way.
Not for a woman under his protection.
Not for a woman not his wife.
Adam headed for the dish rack and removed two plates. He busied himself inside the house with the table arrangement. So engaged was he with his task, he didn’t notice Evelyn standing in the doorway.
She was holding a handful of rubble. “I’m afraid the bowl is ruined.”
Her soot
Adam cut through the terrain with quick and angry strides, tamped the grisly reflection into the very bowel of his soul. He might shun such cruelty against a woman, but he was accus tomed to it. Father had been a beast. A lifetime of hedonistic pursuits had put him into an early grave—and saved Mother from more misery. But had the former duke lived, Adam wondered if his mother, too, would be buried in a churchyard right now.
Adam returned to the cottage, a bundle of fabric tucked beneath his arm. He had been gone a good two hours. He should not have left Evelyn alone at the house, but the woman had insisted upon the material for the drapes. And he had already promised to purchase the fabric, so how could he avoid the trip into town?
Besides, it would do her good to be alone for a short while. He would not be beside her always— he had pirates to round up—so she had to learn to be comfortable with the cottage, to feel safe inside even when he wasn’t around.
But he still hurried back to the seashore.
As Adam approached the dwelling, he heard the soft humming, the light splash of water.
Curious, he rounded the cottage—and stilled.
Evelyn rested on a wide wood stump, a bowl of water in her lap. She was dressed in only a chemise and dabbed at her skin with a moist towel.
Adam was unprepared to confront the woman in such a tantalizing lack of dress. True, she’d re moved her clothes once before—in the course of drowning! He had overlooked the delicacy then. Now he had a moment to reflect, to observe her in the intimate act of bathing. And he was struck by the provocative sight.
She was blissful. With her eyes closed, she rubbed her neck, the line of her jaw. She moved the towel lower, to the tops of her breasts.
He had never noticed the deep swell of her breasts. But as she stroked the cleft of her bosom, he was privy to the lush round shapes, the deli cious curves.
It was the shattered bowl, as Evelyn tossed it, that shattered Adam’s reverie. He quickly turned around to offer her privacy.
“I’m sorry—”
“I didn’t expect—”
The couple expressed sentiments simultaneously.
“I’m sorry,” said Adam again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She stammered, “I-I didn’t expect you home so soon.”
He heard her gather her clothes in a hurry. He now better understood why she had insisted he fetch the material for the drapes. The woman had wanted some time alone to see to her more personal needs. He was such an inconsiderate ass. He needed to offer her more privacy in the future.
Looking for some way to defuse the uncomfort able situation, he said in a casual manner: “I have the fabric for the drapes. I purchased a needle and thread. Shears, too.”
She struggled with her dress; he could hear her fretful movements. “I’ll get started on the stitching.”
“There’s no rush.”
Adam set the linen and sewing implements aside. It was only then, as he twisted his body, that he noticed the stiffness in his muscles and joints. He searched for a distraction. Any distraction.
“Something smells good,” he said.
She was covered in lemon soapsuds; the sweet citrus fragrance filled the air.
“In the house,” he was quick to clarify.
“Oh, it’s luncheon.”
He started for the door. “Why don’t I set the table.”
Inside the cottage Adam sucked in a deep breath to chill the heat in his belly. But the allur ing image of Evelyn’s sultry figure was burned into his memory. And the more he thought about her, the more his own body burned.
He shouldn’t feel this way.
Not for a woman under his protection.
Not for a woman not his wife.
Adam headed for the dish rack and removed two plates. He busied himself inside the house with the table arrangement. So engaged was he with his task, he didn’t notice Evelyn standing in the doorway.
She was holding a handful of rubble. “I’m afraid the bowl is ruined.”
Her soot
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