She rose, her fingers clenching by her side. Did he want her to feel guilty? By daylight, she was able to fight. “Sir, you have made my position quite untenable!”
“Have I?” he asked her. Dark lashes fell over his eyes, then his searing silver gaze swept her once again. “So untenable, mam’selle, that you would have preferred Logan?”
“Logan, One-Eyed Jack, the Silver Hawk, Blackbeard, pirates one and all.”
He pushed his seat away from the desk and stood, walking around to lean upon the edge of it. “I was able to complete my business this morning despite your antics, Skye. Supplies were delivered to the ship along with a few offers. One fool fellow is still willing to pay me a thousand Spanish gold doubloons for you. Perhaps I should oblige him.”
She gritted her teeth. “Perhaps you should.”
“Tell, me, mam’selle, are you worth it?”
“What?”
“Are you worth a thousand gold doubloons?”
“According to you, sir, I have no more worth than any other woman, and as I saw last night, the tavern was crawling with women. Of course, I daresay that things do also crawl upon those women, but then, what is that to one of your…persuasion.”
He crossed his arms slowly over his chest. “I may well have saved your life, you know.”
“And I may well have saved yours.”
He burst out laughing and came toward her, pulling her into his arms. “So you saved my life, did you?”
She pressed against his chest, seeking to free herself. “I cast you my sword—”
“You cast me your sword! Why even in the moment of greatest distress, I had to snatch it from you! Imagine, milady! I offer my throat to a dangerous murderer on your behalf—I find myself at odds with every man in the brotherhood—and you have the audacity to claim that you saved my life!”
She pressed more firmly against him. His smile faded. “We have just cast Jacques and Hornby to their graves within the sea, milady.”
She swallowed, lowering her lashes. Her palms remained pressed against him. “I am your prisoner. I must attempt escape—”
An oath of such vehemence escaped him that her eyes flew to his. “You would escape me—into Logan’s arms? Tell me,do I beat you? Starve you? Why is it, mam’selle, that you would escape to a man who would treat you with total disregard and violence?”
“Let me go!” she whispered feverishly.
He did not let her go. He fingered a lock of her hair, and then he moved against her, his lips searing her throat and touching her shoulder. She gasped, startled by the touch, stunned by the sensation.
He stepped away from her suddenly, and his eyes were bright. He swept his hand from his head and gave her a sweeping bow. “Perhaps, mam’selle, you are worth a thousand gold doubloons,” he told her.
Her hand fluttered to her throat. His gaze swept her up and down in a fashion that left her feeling naked and afire inside. Then he arched a brow and scratched his bearded chin.
“Not as it stands, I think. Dear woman, you do, decidedly, need a bath.”
With a vicious oath, she threw the pillow from the window seat at him. He caught the pillow, smiling.
“For your entertainment? No!” she snapped.
“We’ll arrive at Bone Cay at nightfall,” he told her softly. “Home.”
“Should that please me?” she demanded.
“It pleases me. And who knows? Perhaps I shall seek to determine whether you are worth the trouble you have cost me.”
“You, sir, have causedmethe trouble!”
“Worth a thousand gold doubloons,” he murmured.
“My father will pay—”
