A Lady at Last. Brenda Joyce

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СКАЧАТЬ her waist was, with no flesh to spare. He could probably close both of his hands around her, if he tried.

      “Get your paws off me,” she gasped, outraged.

      He ignored her, sliding his hand to the small of her back and trying not to think about drifting it lower. She started to struggle. “Lecher!”

      “Be still,” he growled, feeling the other side of her waist.

      “Are you happy now?” she demanded, remaining scarlet but wriggling impossibly.

      “You are making this difficult,” he said, and then he stopped. Something was strapped beneath her shirt on the left side of her waist.

      She started to pull against him.

      He gave her a look, slid his hand under her shirt and over the sharp edge of the dagger taped to her ribs.

      “Damn you!” she hissed, attempting to twist away.

      To his shock, the heavy underside of a full and bare breast bumped into his hand as he seized the knife.

      She went still and so did he.

      “Bastard!” She pulled free.

      He tried to breathe, but he was aroused. Beneath that loose, oversize shirt was an intriguing body, one that belonged to a mature woman. He slid her dagger into his belt. It was a moment before he could speak. “You lied.”

      She gave him a furious look and marched after Woods into the salon.

      He hoped she did not have another dagger taped somewhere else, perhaps on her hip or her thigh. He could not understand his response to her body, so slim in some places and far too soft in others. He’d had hundreds of beautiful, alluring women. He allowed himself desire when the moment was appropriate or when it suited him. He was not a green boy and he could control his lust. He did not want to feel any stirrings, now or ever, for La Sauvage. But his body had betrayed him.

      He was very displeased.

      He strode into the salon, leaving the door open. The governor had chosen to sit in a huge armchair, so that he appeared more royalty than royally appointed. He indicated that she might speak, the gesture abrupt and somehow disrespectful.

      Cliff didn’t care for his manner. Clearly, Woods had made up his mind and nothing La Sauvage could say or do would change it.

      But she began to cry, tears running down her breathtaking face. He knew the tears were contrived, born of her fear and desperation.

      “Give her a genuine opportunity to speak,” he said to Woods.

      “I do not need this,” Woods groused. He was angry.

      “Please,” she whispered, the sound soft and feminine, a plea, and she clasped her hands as if in prayer before her chest. The gesture drew her shirt tight, revealing the shape of her surprisingly lush bosom. Cliff stared, instantly distracted, and so did Woods, apparently not oblivious to her allure, either.

      “My lord, my father is all I’ve got. He is a good man, sir, a good father. He’s not really a pirate, you know. He’s a planter, and you can go to Belle Mer to see for yourself. We have one of our best crops in years!”

      “I think we both know he has committed numerous acts of piracy,” Woods said sternly.

      Tears streaked her lovely face and she sank to her knees. Cliff tensed. Her face was level with the governor’s lap. Did she know how provocative her position was? “He has never been a pirate, you are wrong, sir! The jury was wrong! He has been a privateer. He has worked for Britain, hunting pirates—just like Captain de Warenne. If you will pardon him, he will never sail again, ever.”

      “Miss Carre, please get up. We both know your father has nothing in common with Lord de Warenne.”

      She didn’t move. Her full, lush mouth began to tremble. Even had she been standing, it was so provocative it would have been impossible to ignore. But she was on her knees, as if a skilled whore before a paying client. Woods was staring at her mouth. His face had become taut, his dark eyes turning black.

      Cliff did not like what was happening.

      “I can’t lose him,” she whispered throatily. “If you pardon him, he will obey the law like a saint. And I….” she stopped, licking her lips, “I will be so grateful, sir, forever grateful, no matter what…you ask me…to do.”

      Wood’s eyes were wide, but he did not move.

      She would prostitute herself for her father? Cliff seized her arm, hauling her to her feet. “I believe that’s enough.”

      She turned a murderous glare on him. “No one wants you here! Leave me be! I am talking to the governor! Go mind your own affairs!”

      “Propositioning him, is more like it,” Cliff said, feeling quite furious himself. He yanked her once. “Be quiet.” He faced Woods. “Thomas, why not pardon Carre? If his daughter is being truthful, he will give up his roving. If not, I promise you I will bring him in myself.”

      Woods slowly stood. He briefly glanced at Cliff but then his gaze returned to La Sauvage. Although she stood straight and tall, she was trembling. “I am going to consider your proposal, Miss Carre.”

      Her eyes widened. So did Cliff’s. “You are?”

      “I intend to spend the night doing so.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in.

      And Cliff was livid, for he understood.

      But La Sauvage was not as experienced as either of the men, and it took her a moment. Then she drew herself up straighter. She was red-faced. “Can I wait here, then, for your decision?”

      “Of course.” He finally smiled at her.

      Cliff stepped in front of him. “And to think I have thought of you as a friend,” he said tersely.

      Woods raised both brows. “I am certain you would avail yourself of such an opportunity, as well. Now you defend her virtue?” He was amused.

      It seemed that was what he was doing. “May I assume Mrs. Woods remains in London?”

      “She is actually in France.” He was not perturbed. “Come, Cliff, do calm down. We shall adjourn to our delayed luncheon, while Miss Carre rests and awaits my decision.”

      “I’m sorry, I have lost my appetite.” He turned to La Sauvage. “Let’s go.”

      She was standing there, appearing very young and very grim—and very resolute. She might have been on the way to the gallows. She shook her head. “I am staying.”

      “Like hell,” he said softly and dangerously.

      And the tears filled her eyes—real tears. “Go away, de Warenne. Leave me be.”

      Cliff fought with himself. Why did he care? She seemed young, but she couldn’t possibly be innocent, not having lived the kind of life she had. He wasn’t her protector.

      “You heard the…lady,” Woods СКАЧАТЬ