only leaned against the doorjamb, his arms
folded across his powerful chest, acting as if he had all the time
in the world.
Well, she wouldn’t be intimidated. There was
naught wrong with honest work. If he wished to watch her launder
his shirts, so be it. She grabbed the last garment. This one he’d
worn recently. His scent clung to the soft linen. Annoyed that
she’d noticed, Merideth plunged it into the water, doing her best
to ignore her captor looming so close.
She’d removed her jacket. Her shirt was cut
in a man’s style, though made of a softer, finer fabric. It became
her. Even with the sleeves turned up and her arms near elbow-deep
in sudsy water.
Jared considered leaving. He didn’t like
noticing the way she looked. His interest in her was simple;
discover the name of the spy. He thought now that she felt defeated
was a good time to try again. He was prepared to offer her a quick
return to England. Certainly she wished to return to where servants
did the laundry.
“Did you want something, Captain
Blackstone?”
She didn’t sound defeated. “Nay. I just
wondered how you were enjoying your captivity. Thinking perhaps you
might wish to barter for your freedom.”
Merideth’s head shot up and she swiped damp
curls from her forehead with her arm. “My captivity is barbarous,
sir. But as for bartering, I have nothing to trade.” Merideth
grabbed up the shirt and slung it into the rinse bucket. Water
splashed out in a crystalline arc, sloshing over the captain’s
boots.
Merideth heard his sharp intake of breath and
tried unsuccessfully to keep from smiling. With an enthusiasm she
hadn’t felt before, Merideth proceeded to slosh the shirt around in
the bucket. Then, before he could comment on his wet boots, she
seized the sodden shirt, gave it a perfunctory squeeze, and flung
it over the rope.
Water splattered everywhere, but nowhere so
much as on the captain.
Merideth glanced up in time to see anger
flash behind his green eyes. All thoughts of mischief fled as he
lunged toward her.
Overturning the wash bucket with its load of
soapy water was an accident. But as he jumped from its path,
Merideth knew she’d never convince the captain of that. He rounded
on her and she darted, thrilled that for the moment she had escaped
him.
But the deck was slick, and as she headed for
the open door her half boots skidded. She threw out her hands as
she fell, catching onto the captain’s sleeve at the last
minute.
Instead of breaking her fall as she hoped,
clutching the captain threw him off balance just enough to slip on
a sliver of soap that had sloshed from the bucket into the puddle
of water. They fell together, amid petticoats and curses, onto the
wet deck.
“Hell Almighty!”
Water sopped through Jared’s shirt as he
landed on his back, Merideth atop him. Her hair cascaded about
them, curtaining their faces. And her expression, instead of
penitent, revealed an irreverent smile.
Why he grabbed fistfuls of her golden curls
he wasn’t sure, but the next thing he knew, he was tugging her
closer and her amusement had vanished.
Kissing her was everything he remembered. Hot
and wild, and so impossibly erotic Jared didn’t know what kept him
from rolling her over and taking her on the water-covered deck. She
opened to him immediately, welcoming his tongue and moaning when he
swept it through the honeyed interior of her mouth.
His hands slid down her back, molding her
body to his. Her legs spread, and she seemed to wrap herself around
him. A promise of the ecstasy to come.
Years of sea duty, years of war, caused the
loud rattle to penetrate his passion-drugged mind. He heard it, and
his hands stilled.
“What is that?”
She raised her head and looked at him, her
angel eyes heavy-lidded, her mouth rosy and wet.
“The call to battle stations,” Jared
answered, already pushing to his feet and pulling her up with him.
There was no time to say anything more, and that suited Jared
fine.
For he had no
folded across his powerful chest, acting as if he had all the time
in the world.
Well, she wouldn’t be intimidated. There was
naught wrong with honest work. If he wished to watch her launder
his shirts, so be it. She grabbed the last garment. This one he’d
worn recently. His scent clung to the soft linen. Annoyed that
she’d noticed, Merideth plunged it into the water, doing her best
to ignore her captor looming so close.
She’d removed her jacket. Her shirt was cut
in a man’s style, though made of a softer, finer fabric. It became
her. Even with the sleeves turned up and her arms near elbow-deep
in sudsy water.
Jared considered leaving. He didn’t like
noticing the way she looked. His interest in her was simple;
discover the name of the spy. He thought now that she felt defeated
was a good time to try again. He was prepared to offer her a quick
return to England. Certainly she wished to return to where servants
did the laundry.
“Did you want something, Captain
Blackstone?”
She didn’t sound defeated. “Nay. I just
wondered how you were enjoying your captivity. Thinking perhaps you
might wish to barter for your freedom.”
Merideth’s head shot up and she swiped damp
curls from her forehead with her arm. “My captivity is barbarous,
sir. But as for bartering, I have nothing to trade.” Merideth
grabbed up the shirt and slung it into the rinse bucket. Water
splashed out in a crystalline arc, sloshing over the captain’s
boots.
Merideth heard his sharp intake of breath and
tried unsuccessfully to keep from smiling. With an enthusiasm she
hadn’t felt before, Merideth proceeded to slosh the shirt around in
the bucket. Then, before he could comment on his wet boots, she
seized the sodden shirt, gave it a perfunctory squeeze, and flung
it over the rope.
Water splattered everywhere, but nowhere so
much as on the captain.
Merideth glanced up in time to see anger
flash behind his green eyes. All thoughts of mischief fled as he
lunged toward her.
Overturning the wash bucket with its load of
soapy water was an accident. But as he jumped from its path,
Merideth knew she’d never convince the captain of that. He rounded
on her and she darted, thrilled that for the moment she had escaped
him.
But the deck was slick, and as she headed for
the open door her half boots skidded. She threw out her hands as
she fell, catching onto the captain’s sleeve at the last
minute.
Instead of breaking her fall as she hoped,
clutching the captain threw him off balance just enough to slip on
a sliver of soap that had sloshed from the bucket into the puddle
of water. They fell together, amid petticoats and curses, onto the
wet deck.
“Hell Almighty!”
Water sopped through Jared’s shirt as he
landed on his back, Merideth atop him. Her hair cascaded about
them, curtaining their faces. And her expression, instead of
penitent, revealed an irreverent smile.
Why he grabbed fistfuls of her golden curls
he wasn’t sure, but the next thing he knew, he was tugging her
closer and her amusement had vanished.
Kissing her was everything he remembered. Hot
and wild, and so impossibly erotic Jared didn’t know what kept him
from rolling her over and taking her on the water-covered deck. She
opened to him immediately, welcoming his tongue and moaning when he
swept it through the honeyed interior of her mouth.
His hands slid down her back, molding her
body to his. Her legs spread, and she seemed to wrap herself around
him. A promise of the ecstasy to come.
Years of sea duty, years of war, caused the
loud rattle to penetrate his passion-drugged mind. He heard it, and
his hands stilled.
“What is that?”
She raised her head and looked at him, her
angel eyes heavy-lidded, her mouth rosy and wet.
“The call to battle stations,” Jared
answered, already pushing to his feet and pulling her up with him.
There was no time to say anything more, and that suited Jared
fine.
For he had no
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