No nod. He was still too angry to cooperate, she supposed. And the look he was giving her was actually causing her some nervousness she hadn’t expected, so she turned her back to him.
Taking a deep breath, she told him, “We aren’t keeping your ship. I received word that my father is being held for ransom on an isle two days’ sail east of St. Kitts. That he’s being kept in a dungeon is quite upsetting to me. I want him out of there. I knew your ship was ready to sail. I decided it would do nicely to get us back to the Caribbean in the quickest time possible. We won’t even be taking you too far off your course, nothing you can’t easily correct with a good wind.” She turned back around to ask again, “Will you be civil now?”
Still no nod from him and his expression hadn’t changed one bit. Blasted man was making her jumpy with those unnerving eyes of his. Well, good grief. What more assurances did she need to give him? But then she put herself in his shoes for a moment and realized there was nothing she could say to make this right inhismind. They’d taken his ship from him, removed him from control of it. That it was temporary made no difference to him, if he even believed it was only temporary. Maybe he didn’t believe her. She should find out, and the only way to do that was to remove his gag.
Having made the decision, she stepped around behind him to untie the knot at the base of his neck. She saw immediately that some of his hair was caught in the knot and pulled tight. That had to have hurt and she wasn’t sure she could untie it without pulling his hair even more. As she tried, one of his curls fell over her fingers. It was silky smooth like a child’s—quite startling, since there was nothing childlike about him.
The gag fell away, retained in her hand. She held her breath, waiting for him to blast her. Silence. And still he did not turn around to look at her. She stuffed the gag in the pocket of her skirt and moved to stand in front of him.
“Something to drink to get the taste of cotton out of my mouth,” he said.
How reasonable! He was going to be civil.
She looked around the cabin but saw no water, or anything else for that matter.
“In my desk drawer,” he said. The drawer revealed a decanter set in a wooden pocket designed to fit it, so the bottle would stay upright in the worst of storms. It was filled with some type of spirits, no doubt, but if that would suit him, it was fine with her.
She didn’t miss seeing the pistol in that drawer as well, nor did she hesitate to pocket it before she returned to him with the decanter. She was surprised he’d directed her to the place where he kept his pistol. Perhaps he’d just forgotten it was there.
She removed the glass cork and tilted the decanter to his lips. He had such a sensual mouth, full, supple, quite mesmerizing. The last time she’d stared at it, he’d been about to kiss her, the bastard, and he had, thoroughly. God, she wished she didn’t know what he tasted like…She gave him only two sips, then took her eyes off his lips.
“Appreciate it,” he said when she set the decanter down. “But I would appreciate it even more if you’d give me my ship back.”
Just like that, and so calmly, too. She laughed and told him, “Would you indeed? I wonder if it would surprise you if I told you that I would have appreciated if you hadn’t tried to embarrass me at the last ball I attended in London, by letting it be known who my father is, but, well, I didn’t get my wish…and you won’t be getting yours.”
“Embarrass you? The man you were with that night was courting you! If he didn’t know about your father, he damn well should have, or were you trying to get him to marry you without telling him the truth about who you really are?”
“You bastard! It was deliberate, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t answer, demanded instead, “Is that what this is about? You suffer a little embarrassment and you arrange for someone to steal my ship?”
“A little!?”
She had such a powerful urge to hit him that she actually took a step back before she gave in to it. This wasn’t going well. She never should have mentioned what he’d done to her. He obviously didn’t care. But he would. By the time she was done with him, by God, he would!
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat to produce a calm tone. “It doesn’t matter. And you don’t need to worry about your ship. I’ve assured you that you will get it back.”
“Not soon enough, or don’t you care that this will brand you a pirate?”
She smiled at him. “Are you joking? You were already certain I am a pirate. Aren’t you glad to be proven right?”
“Then which one of these ruffians do you belong to?”
He said that so sneeringly, she knew exactly which role he was placing her in and it wasn’t very nice. So much for her sounding commanding.
“You’re off the mark, Drew,” she told him. “These men answer to me. I’m their captain.”
He actually laughed as he said, “Sure you are. But they’ll now be answering to me—if they want you back.”
Suddenly he grabbed her. She had no warning other than those words, and they were spoken much too fast for her to react. And finding herself sitting in his lap with his arms tight around her was so unexpected, she was rendered speechless. He wasn’t, and his laugh was utterly triumphant.
“How does it feel with the shoe on the other foot, wench?” he asked.
“It’s a rather tight fit,” she said, and then she began to struggle for all she was worth.
Chapter 23
WHY HADN’T SHE SEEN IT COMING?Because he was so damned handsome? Because she’d been unable to take her eyes off of his face long enough to notice that he was straining loose from his bonds? And now he had the upper hand, was going to gain his release, get his ship back, too, and turn the lot of them over to the authorities, she didn’t doubt. She’d be seeing a dungeon firsthand just like her father, instead of getting him out of his. She’d failed utterly in her task and all because this blasted American was so handsome she’d been mesmerized by his face, just like before.
