Gentle Rogue by Johanna Lindsey Page A

realized you were still too nervous to stomach food. Come on then, let me help you to the bed.”
    “No, I—”
    “Don’t argue. You’ll probably never be offered the use of it again, and it’s a bloody comfortable bed. Take advantage of my remorse and use it.”
    “But I don’t wan—”
    “I thought we agreed you’d take your orders as they came? I’m ordering you to lay yourself on that bed and rest awhile. So d’you need carrying, or can you get your arse over there by yourself?”
    From gentleness, to briskness, to downright impatience. Georgina didn’t answer him; she just ran to the large bed and threw herself on it. He was going to be an autocrat, she could see, one of those who believed that the captain of a ship at sea was God Almighty. But she did feel wretched just now, did need to lie down, only not in his blasted bed. And there he was standing over her, now bending over her. She gasped, then prayed he hadn’t heard it, for all he did was place the cold cloth back on her forehead.

    “You ought to remove that cap and vest; the shoes, too. You’ll be more comfortable.”
    Georgina blanched. Was she going to have to start disobeying him already?
    She tried not to sound sarcastic, but put it plainly, “Much as you might think otherwise, Captain, I do know how to take care of myself. I’m fine the way I am.”
    “Suit yourself,” he replied with a shrug and, to her relief, turned away. But a moment later she heard from across the room, “By the by, Georgie, remember to fetch your hammock and belongings from the fo’c’sle later, when you’re feeling better. My cabin boy sleeps where he’s needed.”

Chapter Twelve
    “N eeded?” Georgina croaked as she sat up in the big bed. Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously on the captain, who was slouching languidly back in the chair she had vacated, so that he was facing her, and watching her. “Needed for what in the middle of the night?”
    “I’m a light sleeper, don’t you know. The sounds of the ship frequently wake me.”
    “But what has that to do with me?”
    “Well, Georgie boy,” he said in a tone that implied he was patiently addressing a child. “What if I should need something?” She started to say he could very well get it himself, when he added, “That is your duty, after all.”
    Since her services had yet to be spelled out in their entirety, she couldn’t very well deny it. But to have to lose sleep just because he did? And she had actually wanted this job? Not anymore. Not when it meant having to serve an autocratic brick wall.
    She would allow him his point for now, but wanted clarification. “I suppose you mean duties like fetching you something to eat from the galley?”
    “That, certainly,” he answered. “But sometimes I merely need to hear a soothing voice to lull me back to sleep. You do read, don’t you?”
    “Of course,” she replied indignantly.

    Too late, she realized she could have saved herself one chore at least if she had denied it. That was allowing if she’d still be here, which she was now fervently hoping she would not be. She pictured herself reading to him in the middle of the night, he lying in this bed, she sitting in a chair by it, or even on the edge of it if he complained he couldn’t hear her. Only one lamp would be burning for her to read by, and he would be sleepy-eyed and tousled, the dim light softening his features, making him less intimidating, more…Devil take it, she had to find Mac, and quick.
    She threw her legs over the side of the bed, only to hear a sharp “Lie down , Georgie!”
    She glanced his way to see he had sat forward in his chair and was frowning at her, giving every indication that if she stood up, so would he, and he happened to be between her and the door. And, blast it all, she didn’t have enough nerve just then to put it to the test, not with him looking so formidable.
    For God’s sake, this is ridiculous , but she lay back down as she thought it. Only she