She shook her head furiously. “You will never have me again.”
“You are still my wife.”
“I disavow you!”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“So help me, sir, if you ever touch me again, itwillbe rape!”
“Ah, but my lady,” he murmured, “you forget so much! The dread pirate Hawk has already taken you by force, why not again? Your words, milady, not mine. And Lord Cameron surely owes his bride the thrashing of her life. Then there is the main thing, and that is your father. You were willing to sell your…er, virture—or what was left of it—to find him first—”
“Oh!” she flared, twisting anew. Her skirt climbed completely and she was bare to the waist and they both knew it. He arched a single brow tauntingly.
“You do make things easy, love. Shall I beat you first, and make love to you—excuse me, that’s force you into my arms, I mean—second? Or the other way around? Promises, promises! I am supposed to find your father, you know, for the sweet promise of your willing—and eager—arms.”
“Someone should really skewer you through!” Skye announced.
“Should they? Tell me, then, what happened to this tempest inside of you? What of the gentle feelings you bore the Hawk for being tender in the dark? What of the truth that you whispered to Lord Cameron in the forest about your fears? What, lady, of the sweet seduction you played in that room? You told the pirate Hawk that you loved your husband. What of those words?”
She narrowed her eyes carefully, her heart hammering inside her chest with a fierce beat. “Lies, sir. Lies. And that is all!” she said flatly. “Issued about the one man to avoid the other, sir, and that is all.”
He shook his head and lowered it against hers. But he wasn’t laughing anymore. His features were tense and serious, his eyes were dark, shadowed smoke. “So you care nothing for either man, milady, is that what you’re saying?”
“Aye, I care deeply! To see them hang, as one and the same!”
His fingers tensed around hers, his mouth tightened grimly, and for a moment Skye was truly frightened. He had had his fill of her, and he was finished. Perhaps he would play the pirate in truth and slit her throat. Or perhaps his role would be that of the grievously injured husband, and he would strike her where she lay. Thunder touched his features, anger, deep and sure. She did hate him; she despised him for all that he had done.
But she had fallen in love with a man, too. With tenderness, with caring, with flashing silver eyes, and with startling courage against all odds. She had fallen in love with flesh and blood, and she had lain in paradise, be that paradise an island, or a bower within the woods, or a bed upon a soft mattress with white silky sheets. He would hang; and she never be able to bear it.
She closed her eyes, and waited for his blow.
It never came. He released her and came to his feet, and caught her hands and none too gently dragged her up before him. “I am in love with you,” he told her softly.
“Love!” she cried. “What can you know of or mean by love, after what has been done!”
“I’d have died to save you any number of times.”
“You risk your life each time you sail!” she retorted. “You chose your course in life! You risk your throat every time you step upon the shore of New Providence!”
“What of your father?” he demanded curtly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, faltering.
“You wanted me to find your father.”
“Yes, and I still expect you to do so!”
“Under the same conditions.”
“What?” Skye cried out.
He didn’t reply right away. He asked her another question instead. “What if I could prove myself to you, milady?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What if I could explain my deeds?”
“You shall never explain your deeds to me. And you will hang, eventually, I know it. Lord Cameron or no.”
