The Devil's Necklace. Kat Martin

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ white lawn chemises. The woman who wore them must have been taller for when she held them up, they barely covered her breasts. But she could shorten the straps without a problem. Odd though, once she did, they would barely cover her behind. There were long black gloves in the box and a red feather boa, along with several pairs of lacy garters. One set was black, the other red. She frowned. She had never seen garters those colors before.

      She took the lid off the box underneath. A swatch of scarlet satin glowed up at her. She caught a handful of fabric and lifted it out of the box, saw that it was a gown fashioned of red satin with small black satin sleeves and black piping.

      It was the ugliest, gaudiest gown she had ever seen.

      Grace tossed it onto the bed and opened the next box. There were two gowns inside, one of sapphire silk edged with black lace, the other of orange crepe also edged in black. There were hideous little orange puffed sleeves and when she held it up, she saw that the scalloped bodice was so low it would expose the edge of her nipples.

      Grace shrieked in outrage. How dare he! She tossed the orange gown on the floor and stomped on it, twisted it beneath her feet. She picked it up and started tearing out the silly looking sleeves, her satisfaction growing at the sound of the ripping fabric.

      He had bought her the clothes of a whore!

      She would die before she would wear them!

      “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

      She marched toward him, shoved the orange dress under his nose. “These might be the fashion for the other women of your acquaintance, but they do not suit me!” Reaching for the opposite sleeve, she brutally ripped it out of the arm hole and tossed it in his face. When she reached for the neckline, the captain caught her arm.

      “I told you these were the best I could do. It cost me a bloody fortune to get them for you.”

      “These are the clothes of a whore. Find someone else to wear them.” She caught the neckline between her fingers and started ripping the bodice of the dress in two.

      “Put it down.”

      “I’ll be happy to put it down.” She tossed it onto the floor, stomped on it several times, then marched over and grabbed the red-and-black satin.

      “You rip that dress and I swear you will wish you hadn’t.”

      She gave him a vicious smile. “Oh, I think not. I think I will be extremely glad to be rid of it!” She held up the sleeve, taunting him with it, ready to rip out the offending puff of black satin.

      “Don’t do it,” he warned softly.

      She thrust out her chin and took a firmer hold. The fabric ripped loudly and a ragged hole appeared where the sleeve of the gown had been.

      “Damn you!” The captain charged forward. Grace shrieked as he gripped her arm and started dragging her to ward the bed. She pulled free of his hold, drew back and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Instead of fear, she felt a glorious rush of satisfaction.

      The captain looked stunned. For several seconds he just stood there with his mouth agape. Then his jaw clenched and his eyes turned the color of a frozen sea. “You’re going to be very sorry you did that, Grace.”

      Eyes widening at the fury in his face, Grace bolted for the door. He was on her in an instant, dragging her back across the room and over to the bed. He sat down on the edge and hauled her over his lap. She was tall and fairly strong but he controlled her easily. Grace shrieked at the sting of his palm, coming down hard on her bottom, the sharp blow penetrating the thin fabric of her aqua silk gown.

      “Let me go!” White-hot fury engulfed her. Another stinging swat landed before she regained her wits enough to grab hold of his leg and bite down hard on his calf.

      “Bloody hell, woman!” Surging to his feet, he jerked her up beside him. He was breathing hard, his eyes full of fire.

      Grace faced him squarely, her breath coming fast, every bit as angry as he. She had been itching for a fight since the night he had dragged her off the Lady Anne. She wasn’t about to back down now.

      “I vow you are the damndest woman I have ever met! I am twice your size and you are my prisoner! God’s breath, woman—don’t you know enough to be afraid?”

      “I am afraid! I am also sick and tired of your high-handedness. And I am sick unto death of being trapped in your bloody cabin! I think I am going mad!”

      Ethan stared at Grace in disbelief. His cheek still stung where she had slapped him. He could feel the imprint of her teeth on his leg. There wasn’t a man on board this ship who would have the courage to fight him as she had.

      His mouth twitched with unexpected amusement. He took in her dishevel, the slightly wild, utterly determined look in her eyes, and thought he had never seen a more beautiful creature. He could still remember the shape of her lush curves as he had dragged her over his lap, the warmth of her bottom beneath his hand. He was hard and aching for her. He couldn’t remember wanting a woman so badly.

      “I can’t decide if you are the bravest woman I have ever met, or the most foolish. Do what you will with the clothes. Perhaps you can salvage enough to come up with at least something to provide yourself a change. I’ll see you have needle and thread, if you are interested.”

      In their struggle, her hair had come unbound and now hung in thick curls around her face. Her gown was wrinkled and stained and yet she faced him regally, her head held high, looking more like a duchess than the criminal she was.

      He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of authority. “Perhaps later on, if you wish, I’ll come and get you, escort you round the deck.”

      Her shoulders remained stiff, but he could see the relief in her face. She managed a nod. “I would appreciate that.”

      Ethan made a slight bow of his head, turned and left the cabin. Once outside, he took a deep, steadying breath. If Grace Chastain had confused him before, she had done an even more thorough job this afternoon. She had fought him like a tigress, as few men were willing to do, and yet some how retained her dignity.

      He found himself smiling one of his rare, sincere smiles. He couldn’t help admiring her courage. Or enjoying her fierce display of passion. If only he could harness that passion, put it to a far more pleasant use.

      It seemed even more urgent that he do so. The idea he had been mulling over the past several nights returned with even more clarity. As much as he desired her, he wasn’t the sort to use force. As he came to know her better, to appreciate her spirit, the idea appealed even less.

      Seduction, however, was an entirely different matter.

      He hadn’t forgotten her response when he had kissed her, or the sight of her nipples stiffening beneath the cloth when he had caressed her in the tub. The more he thought about it, the more the notion of seducing her appealed to him. In the end, the lady would warm his bed and having her there willingly would make the victory all the sweeter.

      And there was the added possibility that once he had gained a little of her trust, she might confide the viscount’s current location.

      His decision was made. He had promised her a stroll round the deck. Ethan intended to keep his word.

СКАЧАТЬ