The Pleasure of His Bed. Donna Grant

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СКАЧАТЬ the Courtesan. Just thinking about his men lusting after her made him seethe!

      It was time to take charge by approaching her from another angle. “Why did you run off, obviously plotting to stow away on my ship?” he demanded. “Few serving girls are fortunate enough to sail to America with their—”

      “Would you stay with Daphne Havisham?” she cried. “My God, the puking and bawling when Lady Constance tiptoed around the subject of ‘wifely duties’ and fucking! No, thank you!” Sofia declared, her cheeks flaring. “I’ll take my chances at whatever punishment you serve up, sir!”

      Damon clenched his jaw to keep from laughing, as it would give her more advantage than she already had. Any moment now one of his men might come looking for him, and the sound of a female voice…or of his bed creaking in that unmistakable rhythm of…

      Damn! He had to keep his mind on discipline! He was the captain here! “What punishment would you suggest, Sofia?” he asked slyly. “If you were one of my crew caught at wrongdoing, I’d clap you in irons on the deck, at the mercy of the wind and rain. Or I’d sic the cat on your back. What a pity, the scars our cat-o’-nine-tails would inflict on your lovely skin. And then there’s keelhauling.”

      “And what might that be?” she asked in a more subdued voice.

      “Your wrists would be bound, and you’d be tossed over the stern on a rope to be dragged from one side of the ship to the other…until you stopped struggling for air. You’d most likely be rubbed to a bloody pulp by the barnacles on the the ship’s underside.”

      Her expression tightened. Then her gaze drifted to his waist. “It takes a resourceful man to acquire two ships and crews—and to be hired as an escort for Lord Havisham’s daughters,” she stated coyly. “You’ll come up with something, captain.”

      Damned if she didn’t burrow into his bed as though to claim it for herself. Damon strode toward the long lump under his bedclothes, ready to yank back the coverlet and haul her out of—

      But that’s exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? He’d fall prey to her charms the moment his skin touched hers…from the first brush of her lips against his ear as she whispered provocative suggestions.

      Delacroix paused at the side of the bed to compose himself. Every word he said would be an invitation for Sofia to sidetrack him, to lure him into joining her between his clean sheets, which would smell like her perfume long after he sent her away.

      “Sofia, if you won’t willingly return to the Lady Constance I must bind your wrists and ankles and deliver you there myself. You have no choice.”

      No response. Just the slightest shift where her backside would be.

      “Fine. I’m fetching the irons,” he warned. “You leave me no recourse.”

      She uncovered her face to smile slyly. “You don’t want me telling the Havisham girls they’re only so much ‘ballast’ among the goods you intend to trade along the way,” she informed him. “Just as you don’t want me telling Lord Havisham’s crew you plan to meet up with Blackbeard himself! To barter the dowries in exchange for keeping the brides alive, I’m guessing. You’ll split the profits with him later. Won’t you?”

      Damon bit back a sigh. “Your imagination is every bit as keen as your tongue, eh? I’m tired of arguing for—”

      “Ah, but what will you have to barter if Daphne and Beatrix order their ship turned around?” Sofia sat up, and when the coverlet fell past her mussed hair Delacroix again caught sight of her smooth, bare shoulders and breasts. What in God’s name was he to do with this brazen woman? She knew too much and had no qualms about telling Havisham’s crew of his intentions. If they turned around, he and O’Roark and their men would forfeit several weeks’ wages—and he wanted no part of a mutiny. Didn’t want to hire new men after these sailors walked out on him, either, dammit.

      Control. He must take control…even if his cock so badly wanted to take something else.

      He opened the large trunk at the foot of the bed. It grieved him to think of clapping irons around this delectable morsel and then parading her in front of his men, but she gave him no alternative.

      “Captain Delacroix…Damon, if I may,” she said in a tempting sing-song, “who will be the wiser if I simply remain here, in your quarters? I promise you, sir, I didn’t stow away to make a nuisance of myself or to cause trouble among your men—”

      Damon snorted in disbelief.

      “—but once you reveal my presence, you must contend with their curiosity…their insistence on following the Code. Do you really want to die for having me aboard your ship, captain? I could be…your sweet little secret. For the entire trip to America.”

      Oh, she tempted him! For a brief and shining moment he envisioned the fantasy she’d spun with her alluring words….

      But a knock at the door brought reality crashing home. “Captain, sir, we need your opinion about our navigational bearings as we leave the harbor for the open—” His quartermaster, Quentin Thomas, scowled from the doorway. “Irons already, sir? I’ve never known you to constrain a sailor before the rum kegs were tapped.”

      What could he say? Damon glanced at the iron cuffs that dangled from his hand and knew he could keep no secrets, no matter how badly he wanted this woman all to himself. “The abigail who was to accompany Lord Havisham’s daughters has stowed away in my quarters, Thomas,” he confessed. “She refuses to return to her post—”

      “Can’t blame her, from what I’ve seen of the girls.” He stifled a laugh as he glanced at the captain’s bulging breeches.

      “So I must confine her until we reach port, where I will sell her as a slave to the highest bidder,” he continued in a loud, purposeful tone. “She will earn her meals by doing whatever Comstock demands in the galley. Tell the men I’ll be on deck shortly with the stowaway in tow.”

      Quentin’s expression held a hint of conspiracy. “Begging your pardon, captain, but if none of the men are the wiser…” Thomas’s eyes widened, but he quickly refocused on Delacroix. “I—You could trust me to keep your secret, sir. You’ll have nothing but trouble if you let this cat out of the bag.”

      Damon turned, exasperated. Why was he not surprised to see Sofia standing at his partition, wrapped in only a sheet? She’d followed their conversation with wide, dark eyes.

      “After all the joy I’ve brought you, Captain Delacroix, how can you sell me, sir?” she spouted. “And why are you telling this man such a tale when you told me we’d play a little…slave game when you return from your duties on deck?”

      Quentin snickered. “I’ll set our usual course south and west, sir, until you have time to render your final decision on this most pressing matter.”

      “No! By God, I am the captain, and I have spoken!” Scowling at Sofia, he stalked out of his quarters behind Quentin Thomas. His mind was made up. He would have no more of her impertinence.

      Never mind that he slammed the door on Sofia’s laughter.

      5

      “Because Sophia Martine is aboard the ship illegally—and she’s as wily as the slyest fox—anyone caught speaking СКАЧАТЬ