Regency Vows. Kasey Michaels
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Название: Regency Vows

Автор: Kasey Michaels

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

isbn: 9781474033886

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ your officers, Captain.” But he could imagine several other positions that would suit him very nicely. Her power was intoxicating, wrapping around him the way her legs might do, and he drank it in. The raw need to touch her surged through his veins. “Given that I’ve not yet resigned my commission, I am obliged to continue my loyalty to the navy.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and encountered the handful of dowel discs he’d recovered off the floor beneath the carpenter’s bench.

      “I am fully aware of where your loyalties lie, Lieutenant.” She looked him up and down, and a pulse jumped in his groin. “Are the men treating you well? If you have any complaints, you are as free to speak with me as any other member of my crew.” The gleam in those topaz eyes told him any complaints he had would be met with satisfaction.

      “No complaints, Captain.” Except that he was on fire, and he needed her to leave.

      “Excellent.” Her eyes darkened. Good God.

      “Although my hammock creaks.”

      “I’m sorry to hear it.”

      “And this broom is worn.”

      “I shall see that you get another.”

      And I am James Warre. One sentence, and everything would change—though not necessarily for the better. Wisdom dictated that he wait until a more strategic moment to have the satisfaction of seeing the look on her face when he disclosed himself. Or perhaps he wouldn’t disclose himself at all. Perhaps he would wait until London and savor the moment when circumstances threw them together.

      “You’re doing excellent work, Lieutenant,” she said, looking past him with a raised brow. “Very thorough. One can only imagine what you could accomplish with a fresh broom.” She smiled. “You may well earn yourself another commendation.”

      On the other hand, perhaps he would prefer to savor his moment much sooner.

       CHAPTER NINE

      KATHERINE SENT THE fresh broom and hoped the hammock would keep him awake every night, the same way his presence on board was doing to her.

      Her attention followed his movements like a compass needle, and she hated it.

      By Anne’s sixth birthday nearly a week later, the Possession had made good time sailing up the coast of Spain toward France. Katherine stood at the railing after the birthday festivities with her hands fisted inside a heavy woolen coat, overlooking the lower decks where Captain Warre swabbed the main deck near the bow.

      How vexing that he worked with as much vigor now as he had a week ago in the hold—never mind that he’d been assigned the midnight watch, and a moist drizzle threatened harder rain, and the breeze was chilling. The man was impervious to every hardship.

      “The closer we get to England, the more insufferable India becomes,” Phil said, joining her at the railing in a billowing, hooded cape. She followed Katherine’s line of sight. “Aha. I see the view from here is excellent today.”

      “The closer we get to England, the more insufferable everything becomes,” Katherine said irritably, and pulled her coat more tightly around her. He deserved to be vulnerable. To know what it was like to be powerless and expendable.

      “I left Anne instructing Mr. Bogles in the basics of draughts,” Phil told her. “I have a feeling he’ll be a most inept player, but I didn’t wish to disillusion Anne on her birthday—especially since Cook put her in charge of meting out the leftover sugar cakes.”

      “With India around, no one else need worry about leftover cakes.”

      Phil made a noise of agreement. Below, Captain Warre ran a rag over the railings. Katherine could feel the moment Phil’s gaze shifted away from him and back to her. “The draughts board is remarkable,” Phil said. “Such meticulous detail. Who would have ever thought of embedding rope into the wood so Anne could feel the squares?” Phil’s voice dripped with the answer: Lieutenant Barclay, that was who. “I never would have expected him to be so skilled with wood,” she said. Her lips twitched with suppressed amusement. “At least—”

      “Do not say it.”

      “Very well.” Phil was quiet for a moment that was pregnant with her mischievous thoughts. “I suppose the third son of a baronet learns any number of diverting skills.”

      Apparently so did the second son of an earl. “The draughts board was a gift from the crew,” Katherine said tersely.

      “Mmm.”

      ’Twere all Tom’s idea, Cap’n. He was the one who had thought to adapt the game so Anne’s blindness would not prevent her from playing. It was so difficult to find things to make Anne’s life interesting, things she could do independently. Now she had one more thing to give her confidence.

      It was impossible to hate Captain Warre for that.

      A drop of rain fell from Katherine’s eyebrow to her cheek and slid down her face. She brushed it away and gripped the dewy railing. The familiar wood, like her sense of control, slipped beneath her grasp. The Merry Sea called to her from its resting place beneath the water, tempting her with memories of those terrifying hours when she’d known, without a doubt, that she would die.

      Below, Captain Warre had exchanged the rag for the mop. They watched him drag the mop forward and back, forward and back, carefully pushing it around the railing spindles. He bent to pick up some small thing she couldn’t identify and flung it over the side.

      “Anne is very fond of him,” Phil reminded her. “And she misses his stories.”

      “I tell her stories.”

      “And now you’ll play draughts with her, as well, I daresay. Although one’s own mother is vastly less entertaining than an intriguing naval lieutenant—no matter how many similarities you and the lieutenant share.”

      “Continue, and you’ll find yourself swabbing alongside him.”

      Phil laughed. “Worth the price, if I could but see you distracted from your worries by a fiery amorous liaison.”

      It was past time to tell Phil the truth. “The longer you persist in this notion that I should have an affair with Lieutenant Barclay, the more severe your disappointment will be when it does not occur.”

      “The only thing you will gain by such a prudish attitude is a pinched mouth and a crease above your lip.”

      “I already have a crease.” Phil was going to be furious that Katherine hadn’t told her. And once she knew, there would be no peace for the rest of the voyage.

      “Then you must bed him quickly to prevent more.”

      “I rather think I shall continue my nightly cream instead.”

      “What could it possibly hurt? A few stolen moments, a passionate embrace...”

      Katherine was not going to embrace Captain Warre.

      “Let me assure you, lovemaking can be very discreet. If you move him from the midnight watch—”

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