Between A Rake And A Hard Place [Pirates of London Book 2] Read Online Free PDF Page A

hip bath in the corner of the room, the screen currently folded back. “The smoke aside, to wash away the cloying scent of the Sultan’s captivity.”
    “I’d be more than happy to help.” His smile was deliberately innocent.
    A becoming pink tinged her smooth cheeks. “You’ve been more than gallant already, Mr. Ives. I think I can manage my own bath.”
    Smoothly, he countered, “I meant by providing the hot water, of course. Let me demonstrate.”
    He went to the tub and twisted a metal spigot, producing a jet of water, then after a moment, a gentle steam began to rise as the tub started to fill. “Just turn it the opposite direction to shut off the supply,” he instructed. “Enjoy.”
    “This kind of luxury…here?” She seemed quite amazed.
    “The owner embraces convenience. In the kitchen, they keep a kettle on at all times and there is some sort of feat of engineering to bring it here that I don’t quite understand, but yet enjoy.”
    Clad only in his breeches, he left the stateroom, which was just as well. Lady Cassandra was a bit too tempting and he was curious to see how much of a pursuit had been organized.
    * * * *
    It was, in a word, impressive. The quickly disappearing bay was full of ships, lanterns winking, and as Christopher padded across the deck, the sea breeze ruffling his hair, he couldn’t help but smile. He would never call his occupation noble, but there were some satisfactory moments now and again, this being an example. Thwarting the lady’s autocratic abductor was his pleasure. The Sultan had other women, but none so gloriously blond and English, and it appeared the despotic Ali was not willing to let her go easily. Perhaps it was just the insult of having her snatched away when he was anticipating enjoying her charms, but whatever prompted such effort on the behalf of a mere female, it was futile. Already the lights were fading in the distance as they gathered speed, the sails snapping, the waves splashing against the hull.
    Mission successful .
    He found one of the crew on deck, made a request to be informed if, for any reason, the Sultan’s ships were able to gain enough to appear a threat—which was unlikely, and then went to the galley. The chef was a volatile Frenchman who fiercely resented the presence of anyone not invited in, so Christopher wisely stayed on the correct side of the doorway. He’d been a passenger on the Sappho before, but as the man could cook like an angel, it was worth a bit of groveling now and again. Gaston’s roast duckling was a work of art.
    “ Merci, Gaston,” he said with as much charm as possible, “in advance for the delightful meal I know you will offer the earl’s lovely daughter.”
    “And yourself as well, Christophe , eh?” The chef eyed him, wiping his hands on his pristine apron. He was slender and dark-haired with angular features and a dramatic mustache. “If you came to make a specific request, it is too late and I wouldn’t listen to you in any case. I have already decided on scallops with white wine, beefsteak, pommes , baby artichokes I have been hoarding to impress a beautiful mademoiselle, and for dessert, candied fruit.”
    The menu reminded Christopher that he hadn’t eaten since early that morning and whereas at one time he could ignore minor discomforts, at the ripe age of thirty, he wasn’t nearly as tolerant as he used to be. There was already an exotic hint of garlic in the air and a pan steaming on the stove.
    He might, he thought philosophically, be getting too damn old to be scaling palace walls and clattering through narrow streets at full speed on an empty stomach.
    “I am confident she will be dazzled, but as she waits, could the lady possibly have some wine? Whatever you choose will be perfect, I am sure.”
    “She has been through an ordeal, I agree.” Gaston snapped his fingers at a boy currently peeling vegetables and gave a staccato order. Moments later Christopher found himself armed with two