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she wasn’t sure what to do or say. Her long lashes fanned the sudden blush on her cheeks. No doubt she was replaying the afternoon’s events in her mind, not sure what to think of it all and not knowing quite how one was supposed to act in the aftermath.
    Once again he felt oddly protective of her. His hand moved to rest on the coverlet over her thigh. “I know I could use a bite to eat and a bit of conversation with a fascinating and beautiful woman. You wouldn’t mind indulging a poor sailor a little longer, would you?”
    Her shoulders relaxed a little, but she didn’t turn to him. Connor thought he caught the beginnings of a grin. “That might be nice, I suppose?”
    He lightly squeezed her thigh and without thinking leaned in to peck her on the cheek. “Very nice, indeed.”
    He still wore his breeches, so he only needed to slide into his shirt. When he was about to close the door from the outside, his gaze lingered on her lying on the bed still unmoving, looking around the room and then out the windows.
    Finally she scrambled to sit on the edge of the bed and he called to her, “Light a few more candles, if you please. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
    There was definitely something about this woman that made her different from the others–at least for now.
    In a very short time Connor sat in breeches and shirttails with bare feet on a blanket spread out on the thick Asian carpet. They feasted on a loaf of crusty bread, mango and papaya slices, pieces of roast chicken, a soft cheese made from goat’s milk, and the best French wine Madame Poivre had on hand.
    Three candles in their silver holders sat just off the rug to the left, illuminating the woman sprawled on her side before him in a hazy golden glow. She was wrapped in the sheet she’d clutched earlier, but that didn’t lessen her appeal. Quite the contrary. The sheet parted slightly above her knees, allowing him a teasing glimpse of her calves.
    Sipping her wine propped on one elbow, she seemed relaxed enough. Connor might catch her unaware. “You look completely decadent, lass, like Dionysus himself sent you to tempt me into his madness.”
    She took another long sip of her wine, then raised it as a toast to him. So she knew Dionysus was the Greek god of wine? Any lingering doubts about her upbringing or education were gone now.
    Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop. “My life has seemed like the height of insanity lately.” Jaidyn smiled. “But that I actually found some pleasure in it, too, is almost ludicrous. Thank you for that.”
    Connor set his own drink down and reached for a slice of mango. “Don’t thank me yet. The pleasures are not over.” He held the fruit up for her. “Here, have a taste of this.”
    Obediently she opened. Connor took his time painting her lips with its juices, enjoying how they glistened in the candlelight, before placing the fruit in her mouth.
    Watching her delicate throat work reminded him how good it felt when the tip of his cock touched the back of it as she sucked hard and laved him with her tongue. He wanted to watch her do it again–right there on the floor, caught in the glow of the candle’s flicker. He wanted to twist his hands into her silken hair, guiding himself in and out of her warm, wet mouth.
    Feeding her another piece, Connor tried to tamp down his eagerness for now.
    “The height of insanity?” He didn’t think confronting her with the obvious lapses in her story was a good idea. He wanted her to
want
to tell him the truth, which meant he had to coax it out of her somehow. “Indeed, you’re as tempting as a maenad. And as beautiful.”
    She froze, holding the wine glass in midair. Her eyes darted toward him. Wariness flared in them like tinder, but then she shook her head slowly and relaxed again. Hitching one shoulder, she gave a mock sigh. “Poor sailor that you are, you might not be aware that you just offended me. The original maenads were hideous creatures. Not to