caught the eye of Big Billy, one of the Grotto bullyboys, over the captain’s shoulder. The bullyboys were employed to keep the rough out and, when
needed, to help the finer hurry home when they’d overstayed their welcome. To look at Bil y −a huge, hulking man with almost no forehead −one would
never think that he was actual y quite sharp. He brushed the tip o f his nose with a thumb − a prearranged signal meaning trouble i n the offing . Coral
nodded imperceptibly and glanced about. The man in front of her was the only trouble she could see, but Bil y knew something was up.
She turned back to the captain.
Who was frowning down at her. “My officers gamble and wench away what little pay they have here.”
”Is that my problem?” She shook her head sorrowly and spread her hands. “I provide the enticement. They come here of their own free wil . I can hardly
turn those poor, lonely boys away.”
“Can’t you?’ He eyed her thoughtful y. “I’d’ve thought you could do whatever you wished in this place.”
She shrugged, her nipples rising above her bodice for a second. “Looks can be deceiving Captain. I’d’ve thought a man of your years would know that.”
“Oh, I know it well enough.” He glanced away from her as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her white flesh on display, “If I could keep my men from coming
here I would, damn you.”
“So stern,” she crooned. She reached up and trailed a gold-lacquered fingernail through the strict folds of his black neck cloth. It gave her a thril –like
petting a great bird of prey who might bite at any moment.
“Is there nothing I can do to relax you, Captain?”
His hand caught hers in a move so swift she started. His hand was big and hot, his fingers entirely enveloping hers. For a moment he stared at her, his
blue-black eyes narrowed and watching.
Then he abruptly let her go. “You can refrain from touching me, ma’am.”
And the awful thing was she felt a pang of hurt from his words. Stupid, really. She’d been a whore since the age o f fourteen. Had withstood far worse
insults without turning a hair. Yet the clipped words of a puritanical naval captain could hurt her.
Fortunately, her golden mask hid everything but her eyes. She let her hand fal carelessly as her eyes trailed down his person. His cape was thrown back,
revealing the dark blue of his coat, trimmed with bright gold braid, a pristine white waistcoat, and white breeches. Her gaze settled there, below the
waistband of his breeches, and she cocked her head, examining the magnificent bulge under the white cloth.
Then she raised her eyes to his blue-black stare. “You do not want my ladies; you do not want my boys. I’ve heard that you are not married−”
“Widowed,” he snapped.
She inclined her head. “So tel me Captain. Is that padding to make your uniform fit properly? Or do you actual y have a cock and bal s like any other man,
for I declare I am in doubt.”
She expected anger− even rage. Many men of her acquaintance would’ve struck her for such a shameless insult.
Captain Wargate smiled. His full lips widened and parted, revealing strong white teeth. She caught her breath. The man was astonishingly handsome
when he smiled.
“You’re insulting my manhood , ma’am? I must’ve truly rattled you. Your repartee isn’t usual y so crude.”
She glanced away uneasily, and again caught Big Bil y’s eye. He nodded to one of the sitting rooms off the main hal . She should go find out what had Bil y
so worried. She should tend to her business. Instead she turned back to the captain and purred, “you must forgive me, sir, but I’ve not seen any evidence
of your, er, manhood as you so delicately put it. Quite the reverse in fact.”
Stupid. She needed to find the threat, not stand here and trade ineffectual gibes with a man from a world entirely different from her own.
He shifted and suddenly, the broad expanse of his white waistcoat was al
needed, to help the finer hurry home when they’d overstayed their welcome. To look at Bil y −a huge, hulking man with almost no forehead −one would
never think that he was actual y quite sharp. He brushed the tip o f his nose with a thumb − a prearranged signal meaning trouble i n the offing . Coral
nodded imperceptibly and glanced about. The man in front of her was the only trouble she could see, but Bil y knew something was up.
She turned back to the captain.
Who was frowning down at her. “My officers gamble and wench away what little pay they have here.”
”Is that my problem?” She shook her head sorrowly and spread her hands. “I provide the enticement. They come here of their own free wil . I can hardly
turn those poor, lonely boys away.”
“Can’t you?’ He eyed her thoughtful y. “I’d’ve thought you could do whatever you wished in this place.”
She shrugged, her nipples rising above her bodice for a second. “Looks can be deceiving Captain. I’d’ve thought a man of your years would know that.”
“Oh, I know it well enough.” He glanced away from her as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her white flesh on display, “If I could keep my men from coming
here I would, damn you.”
“So stern,” she crooned. She reached up and trailed a gold-lacquered fingernail through the strict folds of his black neck cloth. It gave her a thril –like
petting a great bird of prey who might bite at any moment.
“Is there nothing I can do to relax you, Captain?”
His hand caught hers in a move so swift she started. His hand was big and hot, his fingers entirely enveloping hers. For a moment he stared at her, his
blue-black eyes narrowed and watching.
Then he abruptly let her go. “You can refrain from touching me, ma’am.”
And the awful thing was she felt a pang of hurt from his words. Stupid, really. She’d been a whore since the age o f fourteen. Had withstood far worse
insults without turning a hair. Yet the clipped words of a puritanical naval captain could hurt her.
Fortunately, her golden mask hid everything but her eyes. She let her hand fal carelessly as her eyes trailed down his person. His cape was thrown back,
revealing the dark blue of his coat, trimmed with bright gold braid, a pristine white waistcoat, and white breeches. Her gaze settled there, below the
waistband of his breeches, and she cocked her head, examining the magnificent bulge under the white cloth.
Then she raised her eyes to his blue-black stare. “You do not want my ladies; you do not want my boys. I’ve heard that you are not married−”
“Widowed,” he snapped.
She inclined her head. “So tel me Captain. Is that padding to make your uniform fit properly? Or do you actual y have a cock and bal s like any other man,
for I declare I am in doubt.”
She expected anger− even rage. Many men of her acquaintance would’ve struck her for such a shameless insult.
Captain Wargate smiled. His full lips widened and parted, revealing strong white teeth. She caught her breath. The man was astonishingly handsome
when he smiled.
“You’re insulting my manhood , ma’am? I must’ve truly rattled you. Your repartee isn’t usual y so crude.”
She glanced away uneasily, and again caught Big Bil y’s eye. He nodded to one of the sitting rooms off the main hal . She should go find out what had Bil y
so worried. She should tend to her business. Instead she turned back to the captain and purred, “you must forgive me, sir, but I’ve not seen any evidence
of your, er, manhood as you so delicately put it. Quite the reverse in fact.”
Stupid. She needed to find the threat, not stand here and trade ineffectual gibes with a man from a world entirely different from her own.
He shifted and suddenly, the broad expanse of his white waistcoat was al
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