“Then—then I will not be a prisoner long?” she whispered.
A lazy smile touched his lips and one of his dark brows arched. “Long enough, milady.”
She drew away from him and turned about. “What is he like?”
“Petroc Cameron?”
“Yes.”
“He is like me.”
“What!” she stormed, whirling around with great indignation.
His laughter was deep and husky and seemed to fill the night, and his eyes sparkled a fascinating silver. “At least you are quick to leap to his defense!”
“He is a gentleman. You are—”
“Un-uh. Watch it, lady. I am weary.”
“You are a—pirate,” she said. She meant “scurvy rodent,” and they both knew it. His jaw twisted, but he was still amused. She was, after all, she admitted ruefully, broken down to a certain control.
“He is like me,” the Hawk said, “because he is my cousin.”
She gasped so awfully that she choked. He patted her firmly upon the back and quickly apologized. “Milady, please do not have apoplexy upon me! You needn’t fear the future so intensely upon my account. He is a second cousin of sorts. And I, of course, poor slime, am from the wrong side of the sheets several generations back. The Camerons do not like to speak of it, of course, and they admit nothing. But when you meet your dear betrothed, you will see that there can be no real denial, for the Lord Cameron and I do bear a certain resemblance to one another.”
Skye sank back into her seat, staring at him dismally. “And you would tarnish your own cousin’s fiancée?” she demanded.
“There is no love lost between us.”
“But—”
“And remember, milady, as of this moment, you are only ‘slightly’ tarnished. And if rumor stands correct, you intend to dishonor your bethrothal anyway.”
“That is mere speculation.”
“To many. You forget. I know you.”
“You do not know me at all!”
“I am learning more about you with each passing hour, Lady Kinsdale.”
“Again, you show your conceit.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Governor Spotswood hates pirates! He will catch you one day and he will hang you high, and I will make you one promise now that I will keep. The day that they hang you I will be there with bells on. I will watch with the greatest glee.”
“Bloodthirsty wench,” he said.
“In your case, Sir Rogue!”
He laughed, letting go the wheel, turning to her. She wished to escape his nearness but it was too late. He caught her hands and bowed low so that their faces nearly touched and he all but whispered into her lips. “Milady, one day I promise—a promise that will be kept!—you will call me ‘lord’ and you will bow to my command!”
“Never!” she promised, but the cry was but a whisper, too, and that against his lips. He so nearly brushed her flesh! So nearly met his mouth to hers. A hammering came to her, and it was the sound of her heart. She heard the rush of the ocean, then realized that it was her blood, cascading and steaming within her. Surely, he saw how she trembled. He would know…
Know what? she demanded desperately of herself.
She did not find the answer for someone nearby cleared his throat and the Hawk straightened. Robert Arrowsmith stood with one foot upon the first step to the helm.
“I’ve laid the lady’s supper out in your cabin, Captain.”
