intend to keep me, especially not when the price I would bring as ransom is within your reach. And if you wanted to amuse yourself at my expense, you would have done so already.”
Navarrone scowled. In his youthful naïveté, James Kelley had revealed too much to the little vixen. He sensed he was losing his hold over her. If she did not remain intimidated by him, she could well unravel his plans.
He stood and strode to her, grinning when he saw her eyes widen.
“What has James Kelley told you, love?” he asked .
“That you do not go wenching when the ship is in port,” she answered without reserve. He could see the confidence in her eyes. She did not fear he would ravage her or ill-treat her in any manner. He had been too soft with her—too careful—and it may have already jeopardized the lot. He remembered the night before, something she had asked while she had been overcome by the rum. She had asked him if he had indeed seduced the wife of South Carolina’s governor. He told her the truth of it—that he had not—but he was certain she did not remember speaking to him of seduction and romance.
“That is true,” he said, taking hold of her arm and pulling her from her seat on the chaise. “I do not go wenching in taverns and back alleys. I prefer much more delicate women than are found there. Wealthy women…the neglected wives of politicians…the wife of the governor of your home state, in fact.”
Cristabel gasped. Were the rumors indeed true? Had the pirate Navarrone the Blue Blade truly seduced the wife of the governor as she had heard the gossips whisper? She put her palms to his broad chest, pushing at him as his strong arms encircled her waist.
“ Stop it!” she said, attempting resistance. She struggled, but he simply turned her body in his arms, pulling her back against him. Taking hold of her wrists, he easily crossed her arms over her bosom and held her tight.
“You see, love…I prefer women who are soft and warm,” he whispered into her ear. He pressed his cheek against the place—allowed his whiskered chin to lightly brush her neck. She tensed and struggled, yet he did not miss the goose flesh breaking over her arms.
“Unhand me!” she growled.
Still, he held her tight—placed a lingering kiss to her shoulder.
“I prefer women who would not normally think of taking a man like me to their bosom,” he whispered. He smiled, for he could feel the trembling in her. “Women like you, love.” He again kissed her shoulder. He wondered then why had she not taken the time to put a dress over her chemise and corset. He had allowed her to have her trunk, and he knew it held several dresses within. “Pretty women who own a sweet fragrance to their skin…who tremble in my arms…who dress to please me—or in your case, love…undress to please me.”
“ I have not remained immodest to please you…vile blackguard that you are,” she growled through clenched teeth. “In truth…I-I neglected to dress for the sake that James Kelley arrived with a plate of supper for me before I was able. Release me, and I will gladly dress…though not to please you.”
Navarrone sighed , relieved that she was once again intimidated by him, and he knew she was—for she was combative once more. Yet he hesitated in releasing her, for she was indeed soft and warm in his arms, the fragrance of her skin that of some whimsical nectar. His considerations were fast moving from holding her for the purpose of intimidation and control to that of heightening desire to have her. He must seal his dominance quickly and set her away from him, before his heart found some attachment to her that might interfere with his purpose.
“How can I release you, love…when it is so very obvious that you delight in my attentions?” he baited her.
“Delight in your attentions?” she near squealed. He was amused by her riled indignation. “Your attentions churn a nausea in me that even the rum could not
Navarrone scowled. In his youthful naïveté, James Kelley had revealed too much to the little vixen. He sensed he was losing his hold over her. If she did not remain intimidated by him, she could well unravel his plans.
He stood and strode to her, grinning when he saw her eyes widen.
“What has James Kelley told you, love?” he asked .
“That you do not go wenching when the ship is in port,” she answered without reserve. He could see the confidence in her eyes. She did not fear he would ravage her or ill-treat her in any manner. He had been too soft with her—too careful—and it may have already jeopardized the lot. He remembered the night before, something she had asked while she had been overcome by the rum. She had asked him if he had indeed seduced the wife of South Carolina’s governor. He told her the truth of it—that he had not—but he was certain she did not remember speaking to him of seduction and romance.
“That is true,” he said, taking hold of her arm and pulling her from her seat on the chaise. “I do not go wenching in taverns and back alleys. I prefer much more delicate women than are found there. Wealthy women…the neglected wives of politicians…the wife of the governor of your home state, in fact.”
Cristabel gasped. Were the rumors indeed true? Had the pirate Navarrone the Blue Blade truly seduced the wife of the governor as she had heard the gossips whisper? She put her palms to his broad chest, pushing at him as his strong arms encircled her waist.
“ Stop it!” she said, attempting resistance. She struggled, but he simply turned her body in his arms, pulling her back against him. Taking hold of her wrists, he easily crossed her arms over her bosom and held her tight.
“You see, love…I prefer women who are soft and warm,” he whispered into her ear. He pressed his cheek against the place—allowed his whiskered chin to lightly brush her neck. She tensed and struggled, yet he did not miss the goose flesh breaking over her arms.
“Unhand me!” she growled.
Still, he held her tight—placed a lingering kiss to her shoulder.
“I prefer women who would not normally think of taking a man like me to their bosom,” he whispered. He smiled, for he could feel the trembling in her. “Women like you, love.” He again kissed her shoulder. He wondered then why had she not taken the time to put a dress over her chemise and corset. He had allowed her to have her trunk, and he knew it held several dresses within. “Pretty women who own a sweet fragrance to their skin…who tremble in my arms…who dress to please me—or in your case, love…undress to please me.”
“ I have not remained immodest to please you…vile blackguard that you are,” she growled through clenched teeth. “In truth…I-I neglected to dress for the sake that James Kelley arrived with a plate of supper for me before I was able. Release me, and I will gladly dress…though not to please you.”
Navarrone sighed , relieved that she was once again intimidated by him, and he knew she was—for she was combative once more. Yet he hesitated in releasing her, for she was indeed soft and warm in his arms, the fragrance of her skin that of some whimsical nectar. His considerations were fast moving from holding her for the purpose of intimidation and control to that of heightening desire to have her. He must seal his dominance quickly and set her away from him, before his heart found some attachment to her that might interfere with his purpose.
“How can I release you, love…when it is so very obvious that you delight in my attentions?” he baited her.
“Delight in your attentions?” she near squealed. He was amused by her riled indignation. “Your attentions churn a nausea in me that even the rum could not
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