be his objective.
Luísa shuddered with rage as he ripped her thin chemise with his clumsy, fat hands and bared her bosom. He seemed uninterested in undressing her further. Instead he focused on the moonstone pendant that hung low between her breasts.
He fingered it, his breath rasping out in contentment.
“ Bon! Bon! C’est excellent . I knew you would have it.” He sat next to her on the bed and fondled the gem. “ Magnifique . This is even better than I had planned.”
A breathy chuckle turned into a laugh and he grinned at her like a drunken bear.His right hand ran down her bodice and then up again, cupping her breast. “Nothing would please me more than to tear your maidenhead, but I have more important plans ahead. There’ll be time enough to deflower you.” He squeezed one nipple until it hurt. “Still, it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you.”
Saint-Sauveur pushed her down on the bed then opened his codpiece, exposing himself to her. “Time for your first lesson, ma petit .”
Chapter Ten
Luísa’s humiliation was short-lived. Saint-Sauveur groped her for a few minutes and rubbed his flaccid member between her legs, but it never swelled any further than a bruised thumb. The more he stroked it, the shyer it became, until he rolled off her with an exasperated grunt.
Impotent bastard!
Nothing was said between them and he left her alone until the sun waned at the horizon. What could he want with her that he couldn’t take from any other woman? Was he stroking nothing more than his vanity by bringing her here?
A scurry of feet and excited shouts echoed topside. Luísa couldn’t see anything from her window, but by the sound of the bells and the rapid deflation of sails, she knew it could mean only one thing. Land.
Daltry said he’d be back. Where was that English scoundrel?
A sinking feeling welled through her. Daltry could have been caught. If she had any chance for escape, this was it, and she’d have to do it on her own.
Luísa worked the bonds on her wrists against the bedpost, scraping them so hard her flesh bled. Her attention shifted when she heard the lock on the door scratch once more.
Blast these ropes! If Saint-Sauveur was coming back to finish what he started, she had to get them loose.
Silently, Daltry peered into the room. A smile washed over his face when he saw her, caught like a cat tangled in yarn. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. This time he had on boots, a ragged pair that didn’t match the finery he had stolen from Saint-Sauveur’s clothes chest.
Daltry said nothing, pulling a knife from his belt and flipping her over on her side and lifting her feet to his thigh. He sliced through her bonds with one pass. As soon as her feet were free, he sat her upright. Once again, he slashed through the ropes with a single swipe, flashing a grin as wide as the shoreline.
She massaged her wrists even as he pulled her to her feet.
“Listen carefully, kitten. We won’t speak again until we are well away from here.” He spoke with an accusing finger directed at her nose. “We’ve arrived at the Isla de Sempiterno , but we’re at the far south cove. If we get separated, I want you to go northeast until you come to a rise shrouded in mist. You must reach Sanctuary before Saint-Sauveur discovers you’re gone.”
“We could steal the jollyboat. I saw at least two when they dragged me on board.”
He shook his head. “Saint-Sauveur has a full crew with ears like foxes. We’ll never be able to lower a boat without them hearing. We swim.”
“Swim?” The mere mention sickened her. She was a terrible swimmer.
Daltry looked down at her. “You can swim, can’t you?”
“Of course, I can swim,” she said with wounded pride.
Daltry arched a brow with obvious skepticism, but said nothing more as he grabbed a hat off Saint-Sauveur’s dresser and hurried her to the door. He listened by the door for a moment before poking his head out, motioning
Luísa shuddered with rage as he ripped her thin chemise with his clumsy, fat hands and bared her bosom. He seemed uninterested in undressing her further. Instead he focused on the moonstone pendant that hung low between her breasts.
He fingered it, his breath rasping out in contentment.
“ Bon! Bon! C’est excellent . I knew you would have it.” He sat next to her on the bed and fondled the gem. “ Magnifique . This is even better than I had planned.”
A breathy chuckle turned into a laugh and he grinned at her like a drunken bear.His right hand ran down her bodice and then up again, cupping her breast. “Nothing would please me more than to tear your maidenhead, but I have more important plans ahead. There’ll be time enough to deflower you.” He squeezed one nipple until it hurt. “Still, it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you.”
Saint-Sauveur pushed her down on the bed then opened his codpiece, exposing himself to her. “Time for your first lesson, ma petit .”
Chapter Ten
Luísa’s humiliation was short-lived. Saint-Sauveur groped her for a few minutes and rubbed his flaccid member between her legs, but it never swelled any further than a bruised thumb. The more he stroked it, the shyer it became, until he rolled off her with an exasperated grunt.
Impotent bastard!
Nothing was said between them and he left her alone until the sun waned at the horizon. What could he want with her that he couldn’t take from any other woman? Was he stroking nothing more than his vanity by bringing her here?
A scurry of feet and excited shouts echoed topside. Luísa couldn’t see anything from her window, but by the sound of the bells and the rapid deflation of sails, she knew it could mean only one thing. Land.
Daltry said he’d be back. Where was that English scoundrel?
A sinking feeling welled through her. Daltry could have been caught. If she had any chance for escape, this was it, and she’d have to do it on her own.
Luísa worked the bonds on her wrists against the bedpost, scraping them so hard her flesh bled. Her attention shifted when she heard the lock on the door scratch once more.
Blast these ropes! If Saint-Sauveur was coming back to finish what he started, she had to get them loose.
Silently, Daltry peered into the room. A smile washed over his face when he saw her, caught like a cat tangled in yarn. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. This time he had on boots, a ragged pair that didn’t match the finery he had stolen from Saint-Sauveur’s clothes chest.
Daltry said nothing, pulling a knife from his belt and flipping her over on her side and lifting her feet to his thigh. He sliced through her bonds with one pass. As soon as her feet were free, he sat her upright. Once again, he slashed through the ropes with a single swipe, flashing a grin as wide as the shoreline.
She massaged her wrists even as he pulled her to her feet.
“Listen carefully, kitten. We won’t speak again until we are well away from here.” He spoke with an accusing finger directed at her nose. “We’ve arrived at the Isla de Sempiterno , but we’re at the far south cove. If we get separated, I want you to go northeast until you come to a rise shrouded in mist. You must reach Sanctuary before Saint-Sauveur discovers you’re gone.”
“We could steal the jollyboat. I saw at least two when they dragged me on board.”
He shook his head. “Saint-Sauveur has a full crew with ears like foxes. We’ll never be able to lower a boat without them hearing. We swim.”
“Swim?” The mere mention sickened her. She was a terrible swimmer.
Daltry looked down at her. “You can swim, can’t you?”
“Of course, I can swim,” she said with wounded pride.
Daltry arched a brow with obvious skepticism, but said nothing more as he grabbed a hat off Saint-Sauveur’s dresser and hurried her to the door. He listened by the door for a moment before poking his head out, motioning
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