Pleasures of a Tempted Lady Read Online Free PDF

they poured into the basin. They diligently kept their eyes averted, making her wonder if Will had ordered them not to look at her.
    Will handed her the clothes for Jake, then he held up a pair of trousers and a clean white linen shirt that looked like they would fit a small adult. “I probably shouldn’t even offer these, but they look as though they might fit, and perhaps offer more… coverage than the dress.”
    She took them gratefully. “They will, thank you. And if you have a needle and thread, I can mend the dress.”
    He looked relieved. “Yes, of course. I’ll have them brought straightaway.”
    The men hurried out of the room without glancing in their direction, and Jake wandered over to the basin to draw his fingers through the water.
    “I’ll leave you to your toilette, then,” Will said. “Afterward, I’ll have some food brought. If you’re hungry, that is.”
    “Yes. Thank you again.” Despite the fuzzy head and the nausea, she felt half starved. She’d eaten very little in the past few days. They hadn’t had the time to steal much from the Defiant before they’d escaped, and she’d given most of it to Jake.
    “And then we’ll talk,” Will said, his voice low.
    He’d ask questions, demand details about why she and Jake had been sailing alone in a jolly boat in the middle of the Irish Sea. And after saving her and assuring her safety, he deserved answers.
    The question was, could she manage to tell Will all the lies she’d planned to tell?

Chapter Three
    W ill stood on the stern of the Freedom , barely registering the sun as it slipped behind the layer of clouds and fog that separated the horizon from the sky. He fought to keep his feet stationary on the deck, to prevent himself from striding back into his quarters and demanding answers.
    Meg intended to go to Ireland. Why?
    There was so much Will didn’t understand. Why wasn’t she looking for her family, for her sisters? And Ireland, of all places? He knew her father was Irish, but her mother’s people, the branch of her family with the most connections, were in England. As were her sisters.
    When he’d known her, Meg had adored her four sisters. Now, she didn’t even speak of them, and when he’d brought them up, she’d grown vague and distant.
    Meg was different. Changed. More reserved, more guarded than she’d been before. She’d grown up. Her innocence of so many years ago had vanished. As his own had.
    She was still so damn beautiful. The differences between her and her twin, Serena, were subtle. They were almost completely identical in looks, except Serena had been in society for over a year now, and her skin had lightened and her body had filled out. Meg was thinner but not frail, and she had obviously been outdoors more—the splash of freckles across her nose had become more pronounced rather than faded, like Serena’s had. Her hair, too, was a shade lighter than her sister’s, bleached by the sun.
    Personality-wise, the years of separation had seemed to bring them closer rather than further apart. Eight years ago, Meg had been the shy, demure one. He still saw that sense of shyness in her—that tendency toward reticence and to blush and look away when something embarrassed her. But she was a woman now, and it was clear to him that she had a goal she didn’t intend to stray from.
    What was that goal?
    Will wasn’t the sort of man who demanded answers. He always bided his time and waited. Hadn’t he, just this morning, chided Briggs for his impatience?
    But, God, he wanted answers. He needed them.
    And he wanted to look at her again. To touch her and make sure she was real and not some extended fantastical dream.
    He squeezed his eyes shut, welcoming the image of the little boy who’d refused to speak but wouldn’t remove his grip from Will’s hand as he gorged himself on peach pie.
    Meg obviously loved her son. Perhaps the boy was at the root of her change. With a son to protect, she would fight for his needs