Damian?”
Something glinted amid her breasts. A ring dangling from a thin gold chain. The bauble rested on the sleek curves of her folded arms. He reached out for her; the impulse to do so too great to ignore. He trailed a finger over her wrist. So soft. So warm. Was she a virgin? he wondered. She didn’t act like one. “I know enough to suspect an innocent maid would never speak of things lustful…which leads me to believe you might not be a very innocent maid.”
In the bright night, he could see the goose bumps dot her arm, sense the fine hairs on her skin spike under his touch, envision her nipples hardening…
She brushed his hand away. “Who I am is none of your affair.”
Well said.
Damian straightened, the hypnotic spell shattered. What the hell did he think he was doing, flirting like that? Had he taken complete leave of his senses?
“But you are my affair, Damian.”
He bristled. “What do you mean?”
“Who are you?”
“The navigator.” And he’d best remember that. He had not come this far in his quest for pirate blood to falter over a pretty face. And before she could grill him for more details about his identity, he moved off and said, “I’ll go and speak with the captain.”
Chapter 3
T he hammock rocked gently, Mirabelle nestled inside.
It was morning. A pale shaft of sunlight poked through the tiny window, brightening the captain’s cabin.
James was already gone, his bed empty. She rolled her head to the side and decided to nap a minute more.
Her eldest brother had insisted she bunk with him ever since her discovery aboard ship. The man was too overprotective. True, there were forty crew members serving on the Bonny Meg, but four were her kin and the rest had sailed under the former captain, Drake Hawkins, her father. No one was going to do her any harm. She had known all the pirates for years…with the exception of Damian.
An image came to mind of the brazen sailor. What the devil had he meant by touching her like that? Making her skin tickle and her heart dance? And what about the way he had looked at her with those predatory eyes? Or the gruff way he had said her name, like a carnal growl? It had made her shiver. It still made her shiver, thinking about their brief interlude. Oh, why did he of all men have to be the new navigator? Couldn’t James have plucked a sailor from port? Did her brother have to take the rogue chained next to Quincy in the gaol?
Mirabelle had never before felt the way she had the other night, so thrilled and anxious at the same time. Being close to Damian had had a disarming effect on her. One she didn’t much like. She prided herself on her cool composure, and last night Damian had cracked her poise. Just a little bit, but still, it was enough to make her vexed. The cheeky bloke. Did he think to woo her with a mere touch or beguile her with a fluttering look? Never mind that he had come close to doing that very thing, the knave had no right to even try. She was the captain’s sister. Didn’t Damian care? Did he always tread such perilous waters?
Mirabelle hoped not. She didn’t like the thought of such a reckless man guiding the ship…but she did like the thought of Damian in other ways.
Oh, of all the daft things to dream about! She wanted to be a pirate. She should stick to that seafaring ambition. Besides, Damian was just too mysterious for her liking. He deflected any questions about his identity. She didn’t trust the man, remember?
So why was she still thinking about him? Mirabelle didn’t feel very collected this morning. She never got any sleep with James in the room. The man snored like a bull. Maybe that’s why she was so befuddled. She could only hope.
After a few restful minutes, Mirabelle rolled out of the hammock and stretched, determined to forget all about her disagreeable encounter with Damian the other night.
She combed her fingers through her tousled hair and let out a gaping yawn. If only she could get some rest.
Editors of David & Charles