The Pirate's Tale. Grace D'Otare

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СКАЧАТЬ never noticed how pretty a man’s eyelashes could be.

      Was he watching her through the curtain of those lashes?

      Gertrude dunked her hand in the extra bucket of hot water. She squished the sponge until it bubbled. “Here you are.”

      “If you wouldn’t mind—” The Captain sloshed forward in the tub, bracing his arms on his lifted knees. “—washing my back, please? Piracy is not a trade that rewards politesse.”

      Wash his back? Gertrude had to think for a moment. What was he talking about? What should she do?

      The moment surrounded them, tingling with opportunity.

      New experiences. She stepped behind him. With him leaning forward, the front of his body was hidden from her sight. But the view of his tender nape trailed all the way down his back to the shadowed split of his buttocks. Muscles arched across his shoulder blades and tensed along the valley of his spine.

      Water everywhere and all Gertrude could think was how dry her mouth felt.

      “How old did you say you were?” he asked again.

      Keeping the sponge as a barrier between her hand and his skin, she buffed his shoulder.

      “More than twenty.” She scrubbed with broader strokes. “Quite a bit more. Closer to thirty, if you must know.”

      He gave a snort. “I thought so. They told me you were nineteen. And married before.”

      She nearly dropped the sponge. “Who told you that?”

      “The old woman with the bad teeth,” he said. “The age was an obvious lie. No way to tell about the rest.”

      No way to tell? Gertrude coughed. Hardly a subtle hint. “I was not married. Precisely. More like…betrothed. At least, I thought so. He seemed to think…well, never mind.”

      Distracted by the conversation, and getting more comfortable in his company, she scrubbed lower. A corner of the coverlet dropped into the water.

      “Bother.” Reasoning that he couldn’t see behind his back, she shook the blanket off her shoulders and onto the floor. Without the quilt she was able to move more freely. Scrubbing lower into the water, she admitted, “I think perhaps the Sisters meant to warn you off.”

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