Chapter 11
“Wherein battle lines are drawn.”
Henri sat on the bed with a blanket wrapped around her and shivered. She’d never been so cold in all her life, not to mention miserable ... and thoroughly confused. The sound of the slamming door seemed to echo in her ears without cease and she felt utterly bewildered by what had just happened.
What on earth had she been thinking? She’d just finished off telling him he was the last man on earth she would ever contemplate and the next moment she’d wrapped herself around him like ivy round an oak tree.
She put her head in her hands and groaned.
Whatever must he think of her. That he’d been the one to break the kiss and leave the room was even more disturbing.
He was the Rogue for heaven’s sake! Notorious pirate, seducer of women and the furthest thing from a gentleman you should be able to find in all the seven seas.
And yet, she had been his for the taking.
Her body’s desires had far outweighed and trampled over any of the bold and honourable intentions her brain may have happily spouted to him just moments before.
One kiss and she’d have thrown it all away and become one of those sluttish women she’d disparaged so cruelly only moments before.
Well, not just one kiss, she amended. It had been many kisses, dozens and dozens of delicious, soft, tender kisses.
She shivered again and knew it wasn’t the cold to blame.
Heat burned beneath her skin as she recalled just how he had made her feel.
Dear God in heaven the man was a menace.
She was going to have to stay far away from him if she was to have any chance of reaching land with her honour intact.
She looked around the tiny confines of the cabin with dismay and wondered just how many nights she would need to endure.
For she doubted very much that he would give up his cabin, and even if he continued to act out of character and play the gentleman, for whatever reason had possessed him, she wasn’t at all sure she could continue to be a lady.
Perhaps that was it, she thought wildly.
Perhaps they were both possessed by some strange force that had taken hold of them and made them both act out of character.
So he would play the gentleman and she would play the whore?
No! That was not going to happen. She was not going to have her head turned by a handsome face and a wicked smile.
She had more backbone than that and she was damn well going to stiffen it.
With this resolution held firmly in her mind she decided she’d best keep busy and began by making the bed and sweeping the broken glass up.
She had just managed to squeeze herself under his desk in pursuit of a last errant shard when the door swung open, and her pirate captain strode into the room. She straightened so quickly she banged her head severely on the desk and cursed with an enthusiasm that Annie would have been proud of.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She glared up, blinking away stars to see concerned blue eyes looking down at her. He reached out a hand and against her better judgement she took it, suppressing the shiver of awareness that prickled over her skin as his warm fingers closed over hers.
“What on earth were you doing?” he asked, amusement and far too much warmth in his expression.
Henri rubbed her head and looked at him with suspicion. “I was clearing up the glass. I told you I’d make myself useful. I meant it.”
He nodded, apparently approving. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Especially as I seem to come off the worse for wear whenever we cross swords,” he said, waving his bandaged hand as the corners of his mouth tilted up.
Henri’s suspicions increased and she refused to acknowledge the fact that he looked adorable when he was trying to be reasonable; like a tiger trying to blend in at a tea party. He gestured to a plate he’d placed on his desk.
“I thought you must be hungry?” To her mortification, Henri’s stomach gave a loud and insistent grumble the moment her eyes focused on the plate, bearing bread, cheese and a slightly wrinkled apple. “I thought so.” He chuckled.
“Thank you, I could eat something,” she said, avoiding his gaze with care and moving to the chair he drew out for her to sit down.
He moved around to the other side of the desk and sat as well, apparently determined to watch her break her fast. Henri ignored him. She was too hungry to be put off her food and too set on not being drawn down dangerous paths again to catch his eye.
They sat in awkward silence for the next ten minutes, or at least Henri found it awkward. Whenever she dared to steal a glance at him he seemed perfectly at ease and tremendously amused when she looked away as fast as she could.
What was the devil playing at now?
“Well then,” he said as though they had just left off speaking and not sat in silence for the time it had taken her to eat. “What would you like to do today?”
She frowned, pushing her plate away from her.
There had been a suggestive note to his words that she hadn’t missed, but she was damned if she was going to acknowledge it.
“Oh a stroll around the Vauxhall gardens or perhaps shopping on Bond street,” she said with the wave of her hand and a glittering fake laugh before dropping her sarcastic act and scowling at him.
“I believe I agreed to make myself useful, so perhaps you would direct me to the kitchen?”
“The galley,” he corrected with a patient smile. “Not kitchen, and there’s no need to get pettish with me, sweetheart, and furthermore no, you didn’t agree.”
Henri looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean? You know I did.”
The captain sat back and put his feet up on the desk, watching her with that ever present amusement lurking behind his eyes. “No you did not, because to agree to something it must have been suggested to you in the first place, and I most certainly did not suggest you work in the galley.”
She folded her arms and tutted with annoyance. “Really, must you split hairs? I am well aware of what you suggested, and I have told you quite clearly that your offer is unacceptable.”
He said nothing for a moment and simply lifted one dark eyebrow. It was enough to make the colour rise on her cheeks. They both knew damn well she was not as clear about his offer as she had intimated. She stood and looked down at him, keeping her voice even and avoiding his eyes.
“Captain Savage, I do not wish to be a burden to you or your crew. Please would you show me to the ... galley, so that I might make myself useful.”
“My name is Lars,” he said, and she looked back to him in surprise.
“Lars?”
He nodded, smiling at the look on her face.
“But that isn’t even a name,” she objected. “Is it short for something?”
His smile dipped a little and he shrugged. “Perhaps, or at least it was a long time ago.”
“Oh?” Had that been regret in his eyes? Intrigued, she looked at him closely and wondered who he really was, or at least who he’d been. Were people born pirates? Or had fate or circumstance fallen on him just as it had for her. He’d implied as much at least. “What is it short for?”
“It really isn’t important,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “But I insist, as we are going to be living together in such ... close quarters, that you call me Lars.”
The seductive tone was back in his voice, and she knew damn well what he was playing at. She stood, squaring her shoulders and glaring down at him, which to her annoyance just seemed to amuse him all the more.
“Captain Savage,” she said, her voice as cold as the air that clouded in front of her as she spoke. “Take me to the galley or I shall find it myself.”
“Come, Hetty,” he said, using a nickname she despised.
“Henri!” she corrected him. “I loathe the name Hetty, though you may call me Miss Morton.
He chuckled. “Ah yes, Henri. I can see how well that suits you,” he said, raising one eyebrow.
Damn the man, mocking her again, but nonetheless her name on his lips sent an illicit thrill down her spine.
“Can we not at least be friends?” he asked as he lifted his feet from the edge of the desk and rose, moving with languid ease but never taking his eyes from hers.
“We are not friends, and I did not give you leave to use my name in such a familiar manner.”
Henri froze, rigid with tension as he began to move around the desk.
She turned and circled away from him, moving to the side he had just vacated.
This was ridiculous, she thought as panic began to scrabble around in her chest like a terrified mouse.
Not that she was afraid, she amended to herself, though being afraid in such a situation was quite right and proper.
The fact that she wasn’t as afraid of him as she was of herself, however, was quite outrageous.
“Do you really wish for me to chase you around the desk?” he asked, with a merry twinkle in his eyes.
Henri glared at him and prayed he would ascribe the flush she could feel colouring her cheeks to anger and not to the fact he’d almost read her thoughts.
“I do not!”
He started to chuckle and then appeared to think better of it and cleared his throat.
With all trace of mockery and amusement wiped from his face he looked at her with every expression of kindness and sincerity.
“Miss Morton,” he said, holding out his hand to her.
“Please would you accompany me for a turn about the deck?”
She frowned at him, perplexed by his sudden change of course.
“It is a beautiful day,” he added. “The sun is up, and I know a sheltered spot where you may enjoy the sunshine. It will be warmer than this frozen box, I assure you.”
The idea of getting out of the cabin and feeling the sun on her face was too alluring to refuse. Plus she would surely be safer out there than in here alone with him.
“That would be ... lovely,” she replied, even though she didn’t trust the change in his demeanour one little bit.
She was perfectly aware that he was simply trying another tack.
There was no doubt in her mind that he meant to seduce her, and despite the fact that the idea made her blood thrill in her veins she had no intention of letting him.
Let him try to charm her, she thought, gritting her teeth, for in return he would find her as cold and welcoming as the sea beneath them.
With reluctance she allowed him to place her hand on his arm and she followed him outside.