A Brother's Honor Read Online Free PDF Page B

lost in the roar of the water. She kept a death grip on the mast. As the water flowed through the scuppers, she fought to breathe.
    A strong arm caught her. She gasped as water slammed her and her rescuer against the mast. Opening her eyes, which burned from salt and wind, she gazed up at Captain St. Clair’s stern face. His chest was as hard and unyielding as the mast. The iron bar of his arm encircled her waist. His tattered shirt blew about his shoulders. She winced as it struck her.
    His mouth moved, but the sound was swallowed by the storm.
    She shouted, “I cannot hear you!”
    He lowered his head. She leaned toward him. His mouth brushed hers. She pulled back and stared in astonishment. The ship rocked violently, and he released her.
    â€œCaptain … Dominic!” she cried. “Don’t—”
    He swept his arm around her again. With one hand against the mast, he balanced himself on the heaving deck. “Make up your mind, chérie . Do you stay in my arms or no?”
    He did not wait for her answer. He shouted something across the deck, then pulled her away from the mast. She would have fallen if his strong hands had not guided her into the cabin.
    Abigail leaned on the table and gulped deep breaths of air. The door closed, and the wind’s scream was stifled.
    Hands stroked her shoulders. She closed her eyes, letting the pleasure of Dominic’s caress consume her. As he brushed aside her soaked hair, his mouth teased the damp skin beneath her ear. A shiver flowed along her, urging her to lean back against him.
    Gently he turned her to face him. His dark gaze roved along her face, branding her with its power. He wanted her. She could see that in his eyes and sense it all along his strong body as the motion of the deck pressed them even closer. His mouth lowered toward hers; then he released her with a curse.
    She stared in amazement as he strode to the door. She had thought … hadn’t he wanted to …
    â€œWait right here, chérie. ” He grinned. “I look forward to the reward you owe me for saving your life.”
    â€œReward?”
    Regret deepened his voice. “Something I shall discuss with you later, for I must go. I am needed on deck. When the storm is past,” he added sharply, “you can explain exactly why you decided to take a stroll along the deck now.”
    Abigail recoiled. How could she have been so stupid? She had fled Jourdan only to fall prey to Dominic’s seductive wiles. She could imagine the two men laughing over her idiocy.
    Dominic St. Clair was her enemy. Worse, he wore a wedding ring on his left hand. But still she yearned for him to hold her again, his mouth on hers as their bodies strained against the storm of passion swirling through them. She must forget that pleasure, or it would betray her again.
    Abigail yawned and pinned her hair in place. Opening her door, she went into the sunny saloon. Most of the cups had shattered during the storm, but she found one that was not cracked and poured herself some of the strong coffee.
    The door to the deck opened. Dominic said to someone she could not see, “We shall convene here.”
    Abigail turned to go back to her room as a half-dozen men followed him into the room.
    Dominic grasped her arm. “Stay, chérie. ”
    â€œI am not properly dressed.” She closed the top button on her wrapper.
    â€œI do not care if you are naked. Stay here, and say nothing.” He picked up her cup and carried it to the table.
    Abigail was unsure whether to be insulted or irritated as he sat at the table and sipped her coffee. When he nodded, the man closest to the door opened it. She gripped her wrapper as Jourdan inched forward. The first mate fired a scowl in her direction. What was happening?
    When Dominic spoke, it was in French. The first mate started to reply, but Dominic cut him off. Again he snapped something at Jourdan.
    This time Jourdan said, “ Oui ,