Gentle Rogue by Johanna Lindsey

couldn’t very well ask her. No, he couldn’t believe that she was, not with what he had felt that night in the tavern, not with that luscious mouth and those soul-sucking eyes. She might be young, but not too young.
    She dropped the lid on the second empty trunk and glanced his way. “Should I cart these out, Captain?”
    The grin came despite himself. “I doubt you can, dear boy, so don’t bother to strain those meager muscles. Artie will return for them later.”

    “I’m stronger than I look,” she insisted stubbornly.
    “Are you indeed? That’s good to know, since you’ll have to be lugging one of those heavy chairs about daily. I usually dine with my first mate in the evenings.”
    “Only him?” Her eyes darted to the five chairs about the room, not counting the one he was now sitting in. “Not your other officers?”
    “This is not a military ship,” he pointed out. “And I do like my privacy.”
    She brightened immediately. “Then I’ll leave you—”
    “Not so fast, youngun.” He stopped her on the way to the door. “Where d’you think you’re off to when your duties are only in this cabin?”
    “I…well…assumed, that is…you mentioned privacy.”
    “My tone of voice, was it? Too sharp for you, lad?”
    “Sir?”
    “You’re stuttering.”
    Her head bowed. “I’m sorry, Captain.”
    “None of that, now. You’ll look me in the eye if you’ve something to apologize for, which you don’t…yet. I’m not your father to box your ears or take a strap to you, I’m your captain. So don’t cringe every time I raise my voice or if I’m in a bloody rotten mood and I look at you crossly. Do as you’re told, without question or argument, and you and I will get along just fine. Is that understood?”
    “Clearly.”
    “Splendid. Then get your arse over here and finishthis food for me. Can’t have Mr. O’Shawn thinking I don’t appreciate his efforts, or there’s no telling what I’ll find on my plate next time.” When she started to protest, he forestalled it with, “You look half starved, damn me if you don’t. But we’ll put some meat on those bones before we reach Jamaica. You’ve my word on it.”
    Georgina had to fight to keep the frown off her face as she grabbed a chair and dragged it to the table, especially when she saw that he’d barely touched his food. Not that she wasn’t hungry. She was. But how could she eat with him sitting there staring at her? And she had to find Mac, not waste precious time here doing nothing more than eating. She had to tell him the startling news of who the captain actually was, before it was too late to do anything about it.
    “By the by, youngun, my privacy doesn’t apply to you,” the captain said as he pushed the tray of cold food across the table to her. “How can it, when your duties require constant attendance on me? And besides, in a few days’ time, I won’t even notice you underfoot.”
    That was heartening, but didn’t change the fact that he was noticing her right now, and waiting for her to begin eating. Surprisingly, she noted there was no congealing grease on the poached fish, crisply steamed vegetables, and fresh fruits. Cold, it still looked delicious.
    All right, the sooner done, the sooner gone. She began shoveling the food down in appalling haste, but after only a few minutes realized her mistake; it was coming right back up. Her eyes widened in horror and flew to the commode, followed by her feet as sheran to get at the chamber pot within, only one thought in her mind— Please, God, let it be empty . It was, and she yanked it out just in time, only vaguely hearing the captain’s droll “Good God, you’re not going to…well, I see that you are.”
    She didn’t care what he thought just then as her stomach heaved every bite she had just forced down and then some. Before it was over, she felt a cold, wet cloth on her forehead and a heavy, sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
    “I’m sorry, lad. I should have