“You are truly a hero,” she whispered.
“Hardly.” He laughed slightly. “How were you captured?”
Her hands slid down the folds of her tunic, on her thighs. Xavier froze. She wet her lips. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time. All night, in fact,” he added harshly. He hadn’t meant to say that. Thoughts he no longer had a right to were creeping back into his mind.
“I was on my way to Gibraltar,” she said slowly. “To meet my husband.”
“You’re married.” Disappointment overwhelmed him.
There were high spots of color on her cheeks. “He’s dead. He died while I was en route.”
“I’m sorry,” he lied.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The corsairs seized you?”
“Yes.”
He continued to regard her. It was easy to do. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her face. Finally he sighed and walked to the open windows, raking a hand through his hair. How this woman must have suffered. It was his duty as a man and an American to protect her now, to keep her safe and well.
He turned. “Why were you in thebedestantoday?”
She swallowed. “I heard about you. I came to see you.”
He thought that he blushed. He recalled very well the embarrassment of being publicly viewed by a jeering crowd while stark naked. It was hard to keep a stiff upper lip when one’s pants were down. “What you did was dangerous, was it not? Or does Jebal allow you to wander outside of the harem clad as a man?”
She smiled slightly, for the very first time. “He would kill me if he knew.”
He liked her smile and he smiled, too.
Her smile disappeared. “I’m used to freedom. Being a … slave … is hard.”
He wanted to know details; specifically, he wanted to know about her and Jebal. But such a question would be crude, and the details were none of his business. “Shall we sit? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
She nodded.
He took her arm to lead her to the cushions. But the moment he touched her skin their eyes collided, and instantly veered away. He made sure not to touch her again, gesturing for her to sit. He was strangely breathless.
Of course, he hadn’t had a woman since leaving Boston. That was the reason for his inexplicable interest in this woman. For his current arousal.
She slid down onto the cushions, sitting cross-legged. He found his gaze wandering—immediately he tried not to look.
She shifted, tucking her legs beneath her, clearly realizing what she had done and what he had seen. Xavier was grateful. He poured her a glass of lemonade. When she accepted the glass their fingers brushed. Tingles raced up and down his spine.
He clenched his fists, acutely conscious of how close they sat to one another and the fact that she enthralled him. He could not remember having had such an immediate reaction to a woman before. “How long have you been in Barbary?”
“Fourteen months.”
He watched her sip the lemonade. “And no one knows. There has been no word. I do not understand this.”
“Neilsen lodged a protest when I was first brought here.”
He could not manage a response. He had found himself staring at her mouth. He should have accepted one of the other slave girls.
Her gaze shimmered. Hesitating, she reached out. Xavier tensed as her hand settled on his hard, bare forearm. “You are an incredible man,” she said huskily. “Just the way I thought you would be.”
