stared up at him, green eyes blazing, and issued what amounted to a challenge. “I am a member of your crew, aren’t I?”
Will ran his hand across the back of his neck. She had a point. She did the work of two men with her role as the doctor’s assistant and his personal cook, and her performance had been exemplary. But looking into her eyes, Will couldn’t block out the undeniable fact that she was female.
Amanda stretched to her full height, yet her forehead only came to the top of his collar. An attempt to intimidate him perhaps? His pulse quickened, but it wasn’t intimidation that stirred his blood.
The pressure proved too much for Will. He had a potential prize off the port bow. He really had no idea how far off, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care now that all the repressed desire of the last few weeks flooded his veins.
He struggled to refocus his thoughts. Did the English ship look low in the water, implying they were heavy with cargo? Did the Amanda have the advantage? Had the other ship struck her colors, or did they turn to fight? None of those concerns mattered anymore. If he was to have any hope of composing himself and taking charge of his ship, he needed to take action.
He lowered his face to hers and inhaled her soft scent. She smelled like a woman. How could he not have noticed that before? Mustering every ounce of self-control he still possessed, Will brushed his lips against Amanda’s. He couldn’t risk more than that. He would be needed on deck soon, and it would be all too easy to get carried away, to lose himself in her.
Amanda didn’t close her parted lips when Will caressed them with his own. She stiffened, but just for a moment, when he pulled her to him. Then she melted in his arms, molding her body against his.
He ran his hands up her arms and trailed his fingers across her neck before cupping her face in his hands. She rewarded him with a soft sound, half moan, half whimper, in the back of her throat.
He would have stopped if she had shown the slightest resistance. She didn’t.
Amanda kissed him back, inexpertly perhaps, but there could be no doubt about her intent.
With a sigh, he pulled away before passion consumed them both and he lost all sense of duty. She wobbled for a moment then settled herself against the edge of his desk, a faraway look in her eyes.
“When I get back, we’ll talk about how to return you to your family.” He snatched a key from his desk and left the room without looking back.
Chapter Eight
Amanda steadied herself against the hard edge of the captain’s desk. She brought hesitant fingertips to her tingling lips. The captain had kissed her. Why had he done that?
The harsh click of a key in the lock brought her back to her senses, and anger swept away her confusion like a spring tide. The man had locked her in his quarters!
“What the…!” she yelled at the heavy oak door.
She still couldn’t bring herself to swear even after more than a month of living with sailors, but her mind easily filled in the missing words. She strode to the door and gave it a kick. Pain radiated through her toes and up her calf. She cursed her own impulsiveness, the door and the captain—all in a single breath. Toes still smarting, she turned to pace the limited space afforded by her makeshift prison.
“I am just as much a part of this crew as any man aboard.” She advanced on one wall, spun on her heel, and hobbled the five paces that brought her up against the door. “More than some.” She shook her fist at it.
She pivoted on her heel again, grinding the momentary shame she felt at such an uncharitable thought into the rough planks. “But I do two jobs,” she informed her own conscience and the captain’s empty chair.
She spun and did another turn about the room. “Granted, I’m terrible at fighting, and I hate every minute of it,” she stopped and stared at his chair, seeing his implacable face instead of the chair’s slatted back, “but the
Will ran his hand across the back of his neck. She had a point. She did the work of two men with her role as the doctor’s assistant and his personal cook, and her performance had been exemplary. But looking into her eyes, Will couldn’t block out the undeniable fact that she was female.
Amanda stretched to her full height, yet her forehead only came to the top of his collar. An attempt to intimidate him perhaps? His pulse quickened, but it wasn’t intimidation that stirred his blood.
The pressure proved too much for Will. He had a potential prize off the port bow. He really had no idea how far off, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care now that all the repressed desire of the last few weeks flooded his veins.
He struggled to refocus his thoughts. Did the English ship look low in the water, implying they were heavy with cargo? Did the Amanda have the advantage? Had the other ship struck her colors, or did they turn to fight? None of those concerns mattered anymore. If he was to have any hope of composing himself and taking charge of his ship, he needed to take action.
He lowered his face to hers and inhaled her soft scent. She smelled like a woman. How could he not have noticed that before? Mustering every ounce of self-control he still possessed, Will brushed his lips against Amanda’s. He couldn’t risk more than that. He would be needed on deck soon, and it would be all too easy to get carried away, to lose himself in her.
Amanda didn’t close her parted lips when Will caressed them with his own. She stiffened, but just for a moment, when he pulled her to him. Then she melted in his arms, molding her body against his.
He ran his hands up her arms and trailed his fingers across her neck before cupping her face in his hands. She rewarded him with a soft sound, half moan, half whimper, in the back of her throat.
He would have stopped if she had shown the slightest resistance. She didn’t.
Amanda kissed him back, inexpertly perhaps, but there could be no doubt about her intent.
With a sigh, he pulled away before passion consumed them both and he lost all sense of duty. She wobbled for a moment then settled herself against the edge of his desk, a faraway look in her eyes.
“When I get back, we’ll talk about how to return you to your family.” He snatched a key from his desk and left the room without looking back.
Chapter Eight
Amanda steadied herself against the hard edge of the captain’s desk. She brought hesitant fingertips to her tingling lips. The captain had kissed her. Why had he done that?
The harsh click of a key in the lock brought her back to her senses, and anger swept away her confusion like a spring tide. The man had locked her in his quarters!
“What the…!” she yelled at the heavy oak door.
She still couldn’t bring herself to swear even after more than a month of living with sailors, but her mind easily filled in the missing words. She strode to the door and gave it a kick. Pain radiated through her toes and up her calf. She cursed her own impulsiveness, the door and the captain—all in a single breath. Toes still smarting, she turned to pace the limited space afforded by her makeshift prison.
“I am just as much a part of this crew as any man aboard.” She advanced on one wall, spun on her heel, and hobbled the five paces that brought her up against the door. “More than some.” She shook her fist at it.
She pivoted on her heel again, grinding the momentary shame she felt at such an uncharitable thought into the rough planks. “But I do two jobs,” she informed her own conscience and the captain’s empty chair.
She spun and did another turn about the room. “Granted, I’m terrible at fighting, and I hate every minute of it,” she stopped and stared at his chair, seeing his implacable face instead of the chair’s slatted back, “but the
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