Gwyneth Atlee
seemed more hopeless
than the last until her vision blurred with welling tears.
    A faint knock sent her hand flying to cover her own mouth lest she
scream and give herself away. If she could only remain quiet, perhaps
he wouldn’t be certain she was in here. Maybe he wasn’t even sure
this was her room.
    Hope faded as she realized that certain or not, Darien Russell
wouldn’t rest until he had the chance to look inside. She wondered
how long it would take him to find a crewman with a key to let
him in and how in God’s name she could hope to escape him if
that happened.
* * *
Had she fled already? And if so, to where?
    Gabe tapped once more, slightly louder. His voice rose just above a
whisper. “It’s Gabe Davis. Let me in.”
A moment passed and then another. Though he thought he might
hear some movement in the stateroom, he could not be sure. Go away, the
voice of caution whispered. The longer he dallied, the greater his chances
of running into either Captain Russell or Silas Deming and his friends.
He’d return to his spot on the crowded upper deck and stay there
for the duration of the journey. He ought to feel relieved that he
wouldn’t have to worry about this Yvette’s problems. But instead, disappointment washed over him. As foolish as it was, he’d wanted to
see her again, to hear her softly accented voice, intelligence sparkling
behind each word, to feel her gentle touch once more upon his hand.
Longing overwhelmed him as he remembered how she’d felt when he
had kissed her, and hunger rose, unstoppable as the river flooding
past its banks.
And so he knocked one final time, and at last the door cracked open.
“Get away from here!” Her voice hissed through the narrow gap.
“Did he hurt you?” Gabe whispered.
Her breath puffed out, loud with her exasperation. The gap
widened, and she pulled him inside. As soon as he had cleared the
opening, she closed and locked the door.
“No, but he most certainly will if you stand out there pounding on
my door.” Anger punctuated her words, but still, she kept her voice
low, as if she feared someone would hear. “Why didn’t you just leave?”
Her eyes belied the abruptness of the question. In them, Gabe
glimpsed something like relief. Whatever her trouble, she wasn’t all
that eager to face it on her own.
“I couldn’t,” he said, though the words did not explain his action,
even to himself.
She seemed to accept them nonetheless. The anger in her voice
faded to concern. “Did he hurt you?”
“He didn’t, though I expect that he would like to,” Gabe told her. “I
overheard him near the bow. He was asking about a girl with your
description . . . Yvette.”
She tilted back her head, her chin jutting forward, as if she could
master her emotions with a show of pride. “I had no choice except to
give a false name. I am Yvette Augeron. My family always called me
Yvie. ‘Eve’ is not so very different.”
“Why? The captain said you were wanted for some crime.
Something serious. But I couldn’t imagine you—” He shook his head,
wondering if he’d been wrong. When he’d kissed her, she’d felt so delicate, so fragile. But now, as before, he saw every indication that she
had a spine of steel.
Even so, he remembered her compassion. Clearly, Yvette was a
jewel with many facets. “You helped me earlier,” he explained. “I figured
I owed you at least the warning. But when I saw the way he grabbed
you . . .”
“Now you have repaid the favor, Gabriel. You helped me out of a
difficult situation, just as I helped you.” She looked away from him,
but not before he saw moisture gleaming in the corners of her eyes.
“You owe me nothing more.”
Ignoring the dismissal in her words, Gabe said, “Yes, I do. You
listened to my story. It helped so much to share it. Tell me, Yvette,
what’s happening to you?”
She glared at him for just a moment, then dropped into the room’s
sole chair. The kitten pounced onto her lap and curled into a ball. Gabe
could

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