She forgot her state of undress and pushed past the seaman, heading down the hallway. She didn’t knock, but shoved open Cameron’s door and strode inside.
He was seated behind his desk. His legs were lifted upon it and he rubbed a sore muscle in his calf, wincing as he did so. Startled, he turned her way. His eyes quickly narrowed.
“You bastard!” she hissed.
The seaman came up behind her. “Sir, she slipped by me! I’m sorry, milord—”
“It’s all right, Mr. Whitehead. My wife is invited to join me in my cabin whenever she wishes.” He smiled pleasantly, lifting his legs down to the floor.
“I am not visiting you in your cabin,” Skye announced.
He arched a brow pleasantly, and stood. “That will be all, Mr. Whitehead.”
“Yes, milord.”
The burly seaman left them. The door closed sharply behind him. Skye realized that she was standing there barefoot and in her damp shift, with her bedcover upon her shoulders. She suddenly regretted the fury and impulse that had brought her here. Still, Davey had risked much for her. She would not allow him to be hurt.
“Where is Davey?” she demanded.
“Davey,” he murmured. He came around his desk and sat upon its edge, watching her as he calmly crossed his arms over his chest. “Davey?”
“Davey! My man! He was a sailor aboard theSilver Messenger, and came into your service that way. You know exactly who I am talking about! And if you have offered him any harm—”
“Ah, yes, the lad! The one who deserves the stripes upon his back.”
“He deserves nothing of the sort! I told you that it was my fault, my choice to come topside—”
“And did you realize, madame, that in coming topside you risked the lives of every man aboard this ship, not to mention your own?”
“You were quick enough to cast me to the wolves, milord!”
“Never, milady. There was not a single second when I did not prepare to slay the rogue.”
“Then—”
“You endangered us all. Stikes was an amateur, madame. His crew was small, his vessel was faulty. We had bested him from the time that he raised his pirate colors over the flag of England.”
“Then—”
“But you, madame,” he interrupted again, his voice low and soft and still full of menace, “you could well have risked it all. To a man my crew would lay down their lives on your behalf. To see so much blood spilled unnecessarily would be a sorry crime before God. Discipline is mandatory upon a ship, especially in these waters. Davey must learn not to be conned by the wiles of a woman.”
“He was not conned! I forced my way by him!”
“He should have suspected the trick.”
“It was no trick!”
“Nevertheless, madame, your appearance on deck in the very arms of the pirate was disconcerting—”
“Disconcerting, indeed!” Seething, she approached him. She forgot her state of undress and the coverlet fell to the floor. Skye did not heed it as she slammed her fist upon the desk at his side. “Disconcerting! Well, then, sir, you should have let the pirate take me, trouble that I am! He was an honest rake, at that, while you! You claim to be a gentleman, a champion of justice! And you take that poor young boy—”
“Or yourself in his stead, madame.”
She straightened, realizing how very close she had come to him and, at the same time, realizing her drastic state of undress. She had not dried thoroughly and her shift clung to her damp skin, outlining her breasts with a startling clarity. His eyes fell upon her with both amusement and fire and she tried to push away from the desk, determined to reach the coverlet. He caught her arm, dragging her back before him.
“Is it all bluff, milady? Tell me, are you willing to suffer for the lad? Is all that you say a lie or a taunt? Should you be stripped down to the bare truth of it all.”
“No, it is not a lie!” she gasped, jerking upon his wrist. “Do it and be done with it! Call out your ship, if you so desire, and drag me in your chains! I will not protest!”
