She was a menace, but Devon would do anything to get the sparkle back into her smile. He wanted to see her cheeks bloom and her eyes brighten. Not the dark shadows that lay beneath her eyes. He studied her overlong. “I’ll do my finest. This old girl has the best physician in her corner.” He’d have to be a magician or a messiah for in reality the old dame’s vitals were quite weak. He ordered several things from Claire.
“You have been a doctor long?” She asked his qualifications.
“Qualified by examination at Trinity College of Physicians. I have extensive knowledge of remedial herbs. Do you have advantage of an apothecary? I heard there is one in Port Royale. I have requested of it to serve your uncle’s slaves but have been denied. Instead I’ve had to rely on some learned native plants to suffice as medicine to succor my patients. If I have convenience of both, we may have a fighting chance.” He rose and studied her. If he could get advantage of the apothecary from her, he could get medicines for his men.
“Of course. Give me a list, I will send for it.”
Devon dictated more than what he needed. He watched her write in neat scrawl then sent a messenger to retrieve the herbs. She frowned and under his scrutiny wavered. He thought she was going to question the additional medicines.
“But what of the native plants?” she said. “How will I obtain them?”
“I will have to collect them myself. I observed some growing not far from here. I will have to boil a concoction. Will I have use of your kitchen?”
“Yes. When will we retrieve the herbs?”
Devon raised an eyebrow. “We? Surely not. After all, I am a lowly slave, not fit company for the highborn.” He hedged, hoping to have the freedom to scout the island alone without the guards. She stiffened from his scorn. He laughed, daring her. “Or perhaps you are afraid of me.”
“More afraid, you’ll try to escape before I get Cookie healed,” she suggested. “Follow me.” She marched from the room. When they broached the outdoors, she turned to him, both fists dug on her hips. “I realize you don’t like me much because I performed a favor by purchasing you. But I’m going to do everything in my power to save Cookie. Nothing and no one will stand in my way. Even if that means me putting up with your bad manners and assisting in any tasks necessary to expedite that goal. Let it be clear that I don’t care a fig about what other people think and what you think. After you have healed Cookie, you are more than welcome to go back to your labors and wallow in your disdain for me. As for now, you are my slave and under my command. Is that understood?”
A blind rage like a fire swept over him. “Tell me...” He stripped her with his piercing eyes, but she stood her ground. “As an expert slaver, what in my shoes would you feel yourself?”
He could see she considered her words before she spoke. “My intention of going with you is to learn what you know about medicinal plants. If my uncle or his overseer are about I can answer any questions that may arise. A slave roaming free would be suspect,” she reminded him.
He folded his arms and gave her a look of complete superiority. He would not budge until he had her answer nor would he tolerate her evasiveness. Her face mirrored many changes regarding him. He gauged her fury, curiosity and then earnestness without the guile of her sex.
She took a deep breath. “To answer your question, I would feel the same.”
This struck Devon as a most unusual, sincere confession and one that left him bewildered. For a moment he studied her with heightened interest, reassessing her. He was not, he told himself to be deceived by her beauty, her eyes, sympathetic now, or her easy manner. He reminded himself that he could not dissociate her from her uncle. She was of his bloodstock. Some of the merciless cruelty of her uncle must, he reasoned, be a part of her. He mulled this argument in his head, convincing an opposing instinct that challenged otherwise.
Choosing icy civility and practiced remoteness proved safer. “There now that is settled. Let us go and find the herbs.” He turned and started down the road in long strides.
The woman scrambled to keep up. She did not become the least bit squeamish when he crossed through high brush and reminded her to be on the lookout for dangerous snakes. When they entered the forest, she drew alongside him. He smelled jasmine, her scent. The real danger was him.Keep your hands off her, he warned himself. He had enough troubles.
“Is it far?” she asked.
Devon gazed at the sun seen latticed through the trees, plunging deeper into the woods, leaving her to follow. He knew exactly where he was, but the devil in him chose to go a slightly longer more difficult route. It was a petty meanness designed to get even. Burned into his mind rang her words.You are my slave and will do as I command.
The traverse through the forest did something to lift Devon’s spirits. A freedom evoked inside him, the likes he hadn’t experienced in the past few months. The trees, the exotic flowers and birds rekindled his spirits. He was so deep in thought he did not hear her cry out.
“My dress is caught. Could you lend some assistance?”
He strode back a few places to see her piquant upturned face, alive and animated.
“I’ve never walked into the woods before,” she admitted. “I am a little afraid. But I feel at home in the wildness and beauty. It is like a dream spreading an enchantment.”
Devon tore his eyes from her inviting lips and looked into jewel-bright eyes that glowed like amber under sooty black lashes. Fathomless eyes. And the way she kept staring at him. Bloody hell. She heated his blood, made him want things that even he recognized were far beyond his reach.
“I tried to do it myself−” she offered.
Devon opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t speak− her scent beckoned him, his nostrils flared from primal instinct, the proximity of her body, and the look in her eyes drugged his mind. In Newgate, he’d been savagely attracted to her. Visions of her kept him alive, yielding to haunting dreams that staved off the hopelessness and despair of a lonely voyage. In the space of a moment, that latent attraction erupted with a force that made him lean down. He yearned to seize her mouth with hard, demanding hunger, to devour her sweetness. Her lips parted, and his body came rigid with desire. A pulse beat at the base of her throat. His tongue could explore that area down to the soft tips of her breasts and beyond.
The raven cawed above him, jerking him back to reality. With Herculean effort, Devon pulled back. He’d forgotten about his men. About finding an escape. He was amazed he’d forgotten that; he was more amazed at his unparalleled lack of control where she was concerned. His jaw tightened and his tone hardened. “You should have stayed with your friend. It is not proper for a woman like you to come alone with a slave.”
He observed her confusion as he knelt to remove her dress from gnarled vines. Beneath feminine petticoats, he saw a glimpse of ankle. His whole being filled with wanting. He brushed her ankle, soft and warm. She gasped. It would be so easy. He yanked the remnant from the roots and stalked off.
He was a slave, lower than a beast of burden, not fit to hold the hem of her dress.
She was his wife.
