Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“If you set that there to test my intelligence, I’m offended.” I gave the hilt a hard flick and left it spinning like a wheel on the table as I strolled away. “On a good day I can wield a blade against armies of men twice my size. You should also know I’m a dead shot with a pistol. But today’s not a good day.”
His face, too smooth and polished to require a barber’s razor, gave no reaction.
“Can I be frank with you, Ashley?” I wandered through his private space, touching everything from blankets and clothing to furniture and trinkets just to annoy him.
“I expect nothing less.”
“After being thrown off a ship twice in one day, only to end the night with a ruthless spanking on my lady parts—”
“The night isn’t over.”
I flung a glare at him. “I cannot simply forget these things occurred. You can trust that when I fall asleep, I’ll dream of my hands throttling your throat until your lips turn blue, and your eyes pop from your face like corks. But…” I held up a finger without looking at him. “I’m not foolish enough to retaliate. When I make mistakes, I learn from them.”
I turned and pointed at my swollen jaw, just one of the many aches he’d inflicted in the past few hours.
“I’m pleased to hear that you understand my expectations.” He braced his boots in a noble stance and raised his squared jaw, staring down his nose at me.
“God’s teeth, Commodore.” I squinted up at him. “Do you ever grow tired of maintaining that stiff upper lip?”
“Do you ever grow tired of mocking the great and the good?”
“No. Positively never.”
He stood like a statue for a minute or twenty. At length, he dragged a palm down his face, over his mouth, and let his shoulder drop against the wall.
Better? His cocked eyebrow asked.
The stiff lip was impossibly stiffer.
I shook my head. “Lord Ashley Cutler. All suited and booted and looking polished enough to hold the king’s cock while he pisses.”
“Your mouth is appalling.” His gaze slid to the object of his gall.
“Is that your appalled expression? It looks the same as all your others, so I can’t be sure. But honestly, Ashley, if my mouth disturbs you, why do you stare at it so?”
His eyes returned to mine. Deep blue gemstone eyes, thickly lashed and sensually hooded. Oh, how they must grow weary of watching females swoon in his path.
Flickering lantern light gilded his sculpted features and cast shadows over his perfectly combed, inky black hair. So shiny and lush, that hair. It was hard to believe it had ever been exposed to sun or salty air.
He was magnificent to behold, a distinguished officer in his prime who had just won a war and sailed across an ocean to capture Madwulf MacNally and the daughter of Edric Sharp. He would be the envy of his peers upon his return.
How long had he been at sea? Was he in a hurry to sail home? I was wildly curious to know what he was thinking as he answered my shameless appraisement with a calmer, more detached reserve.
“Do you have a lady in England you’re anxious to reunite with?” I crossed my arms, standing a foot away.
“No.”
No surprise there. When it came to women, he put more effort into spanking a clitoris than wooing a heart.
As I understood the situation, I would have a month to scrape information from his brain. Right now I had only so much energy left before my face planted itself onto the floor. The remainder of my questions would have to wait. Except one.
“How did you find me?”
“I was hunting another pirate, and he led me to you.”
Priest? It wasn’t possible. No one outside our circle of trust knew our connection.
My head pounded with panic and fatigue, but I kept my voice neutral. “Who?”
“Charles Vane.”
“Ah.” Grief collided with relief. I showed neither on my face. “Convenient for you.”
“Abundantly. With Vane dead, you were my next target. But, by the time I learned of your arrival in Jamaica, you already weighed anchor and set sail. Rather suddenly, wasn’t it?”
“You’re not the only one hunting me.”
“But I’m the only one who apprehended you.”
Arrogant fool. If he only knew that Priest Farrell had nabbed me first. Oh, how I wanted to tell him he could’ve captured Edric Sharp’s daughter and the Feral Priest if he hadn’t fallen for my ruse.
But my marriage was my most guarded secret and greatest hope for escape.
“If you didn’t recognize me,” I said, “how did you find me?”
“No one could accurately describe your image. You did well keeping that unknown. Until now. But I didn’t need to know what you looked like. I studied your behavior, your track worn in the sea, and lore that follows you. Your affiliation with Charles Vane. The galleon you commanded, which boasts no flags, figureheads, or markings. And your penchant for freeing slaves.”