that frequently follow me
from this room?" he asked dryly.
Oh,
God, where was Allen? she thought uneasily. Where was anyone who could
interrupt this strained conversation? Steeling herself, her eyes met his and
she said quietly, "I can only apologize if you have found my manner less
than pleasing. I'm sorry to have annoyed you, and I shall try in the future not
to give you cause to complain."
It
was pompous and she knew it, but she wanted this meeting over with and she
wanted Saber gone from this room.
Saber's
lip had thinned at her words and slamming down his glass on the desk, he
snapped harshly, "I don't want your apologies, damnit! You're very adept
at avoiding questions, my friend!" Leaning forward, his face inches from
hers, he growled, "Now tell me, young Nick, why you find service with me
so distasteful? I want an answer this time—not an excuse or an apology!"
Staring
at the hard bearded face so close to hers, Nicole was assailed by a variety of
emotions. Uppermost was an acute awareness of him as a man, with the faint
scent of tobacco and salt sea air clinging to him. Unbearably conscious of the
fact that his mouth was barely a breath away from hers, she wondered foolishly
what his reaction would be if she were to lean forward and press her own
tremulous lips to that firm mouth.
"I'm
waiting, Nick."
His
words shattered her erratic thoughts and brought her back to the matter at
hand. All wide eyes and innocence she said slowly, "I think that all boys
have times when they are rebellious and resentful of those who have authority
over them. If I appear to dislike you at times, it must be because of
that."
An
exasperated snort from Saber preceded his words. "Clever, Nick. An answer
that is not an answer." He moved back into his original position and
picked up his glass. "Some day soon, you and I must have another little
talk. You are after a fashion my . . . er . . . ward, and it has occurred to me
that I have not been doing my duty by you. I think perhaps that I shall take
more of an interest in you in the future . . . more interest in you than I have
in the past."
He
stood up, having downed the remainder of his rum. Staring down at Nicole's
astonished and faintly dismayed features, he smiled sweetly and said,
"You'll enjoy that, I'm sure!" He sauntered from the room.
For
several seconds Nicole stared after him. Now what the devil did he mean by
that? she wondered. With a sigh she turned back to the cargo lists but found
she was unable to concentrate. It wasn't like Saber to probe, and she could
have sworn, before this morning, that he was hardly aware of his cabin boy's
existence. What was behind his odd mood?
She
hadn't liked the way his eyes had wandered over her body either. He had seldom
glanced her way in the past, but today there had been, at least to her mind, a
searching quality in his gaze. Had he guessed? Was her face now too obviously
feminine? Had that discerning golden-eyed stare discovered a flaw in her
disguise? She glanced down nervously at her flat bosom; her breasts as usual
were bound tightly beneath her shirt. No, if anything he would only wonder at
her lack of manly muscle. So her disguise hadn't failed her, she was certain .
. . almost.
Perhaps,
she concluded, he was just bored and enjoyed baiting her. If he had known or
even suspected, she wouldn't now be seated before her table. A shiver snaked
down her spine as she recalled the red-headed whore's fate and grimly she set
about her work.
She
worked steadily for some time. The room was quiet and there was only the soft
splash of the sea against the hull of the ship and the pleasant whisper of the
wind in the sails to disturb her.
La
Belle Garce had
been built four years ago to Saber's specifications. She was a four-masted
schooner, long, low, and rather narrow. The ship was three hundred and nineteen
tons of menace, carrying twenty twelve-pound carronades with two long eighteens
as chase guns.
The
room where Nicole was working was
from this room?" he asked dryly.
Oh,
God, where was Allen? she thought uneasily. Where was anyone who could
interrupt this strained conversation? Steeling herself, her eyes met his and
she said quietly, "I can only apologize if you have found my manner less
than pleasing. I'm sorry to have annoyed you, and I shall try in the future not
to give you cause to complain."
It
was pompous and she knew it, but she wanted this meeting over with and she
wanted Saber gone from this room.
Saber's
lip had thinned at her words and slamming down his glass on the desk, he
snapped harshly, "I don't want your apologies, damnit! You're very adept
at avoiding questions, my friend!" Leaning forward, his face inches from
hers, he growled, "Now tell me, young Nick, why you find service with me
so distasteful? I want an answer this time—not an excuse or an apology!"
Staring
at the hard bearded face so close to hers, Nicole was assailed by a variety of
emotions. Uppermost was an acute awareness of him as a man, with the faint
scent of tobacco and salt sea air clinging to him. Unbearably conscious of the
fact that his mouth was barely a breath away from hers, she wondered foolishly
what his reaction would be if she were to lean forward and press her own
tremulous lips to that firm mouth.
"I'm
waiting, Nick."
His
words shattered her erratic thoughts and brought her back to the matter at
hand. All wide eyes and innocence she said slowly, "I think that all boys
have times when they are rebellious and resentful of those who have authority
over them. If I appear to dislike you at times, it must be because of
that."
An
exasperated snort from Saber preceded his words. "Clever, Nick. An answer
that is not an answer." He moved back into his original position and
picked up his glass. "Some day soon, you and I must have another little
talk. You are after a fashion my . . . er . . . ward, and it has occurred to me
that I have not been doing my duty by you. I think perhaps that I shall take
more of an interest in you in the future . . . more interest in you than I have
in the past."
He
stood up, having downed the remainder of his rum. Staring down at Nicole's
astonished and faintly dismayed features, he smiled sweetly and said,
"You'll enjoy that, I'm sure!" He sauntered from the room.
For
several seconds Nicole stared after him. Now what the devil did he mean by
that? she wondered. With a sigh she turned back to the cargo lists but found
she was unable to concentrate. It wasn't like Saber to probe, and she could
have sworn, before this morning, that he was hardly aware of his cabin boy's
existence. What was behind his odd mood?
She
hadn't liked the way his eyes had wandered over her body either. He had seldom
glanced her way in the past, but today there had been, at least to her mind, a
searching quality in his gaze. Had he guessed? Was her face now too obviously
feminine? Had that discerning golden-eyed stare discovered a flaw in her
disguise? She glanced down nervously at her flat bosom; her breasts as usual
were bound tightly beneath her shirt. No, if anything he would only wonder at
her lack of manly muscle. So her disguise hadn't failed her, she was certain .
. . almost.
Perhaps,
she concluded, he was just bored and enjoyed baiting her. If he had known or
even suspected, she wouldn't now be seated before her table. A shiver snaked
down her spine as she recalled the red-headed whore's fate and grimly she set
about her work.
She
worked steadily for some time. The room was quiet and there was only the soft
splash of the sea against the hull of the ship and the pleasant whisper of the
wind in the sails to disturb her.
La
Belle Garce had
been built four years ago to Saber's specifications. She was a four-masted
schooner, long, low, and rather narrow. The ship was three hundred and nineteen
tons of menace, carrying twenty twelve-pound carronades with two long eighteens
as chase guns.
The
room where Nicole was working was
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