Lost Honor Page 7

  A hand caressed and rubbed her rear. The rear he unfairly accused her of teasing the men with. His statement lacked truth. She wasn’t that type of woman. Only now she allowed him the privilege of touching it.

  In the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong and dangerous, and struggled to regain her senses while his tongue pillaged and his hand fondled. Summoning the meager resources she had left, she pulled herself together and pushed against his chest to free herself. His strength greater, Morgan took advantage of the situation for a few seconds longer and then released her.

  She stumbled back out of his reach, gasping for breath between swollen lips. Arianna stared at him and he at her, his chest rising and falling at a swift rate. Words failed her.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “You will remain in this cabin until your skirt and bodice are dry. Go to bed. You are exhausted. We will speak in the morning.” He exited the cabin.

  Dizzy with relief at his departure, confusion and tiredness muddling her thoughts, she staggered to the hammock and dropped into it.

  ****

  In the corridor, Morgan fell back against the closed door. What had he done? He hadn’t meant to kiss her.

  Oh, yes he had. He had been wanting to since the first moment he laid his eyes on her. He had thought if he permitted the urge free rein, it would flee. Men always desired what they couldn’t have.

  A bitter laugh escaped. He was mistaken. He wanted her more.

  And more of her.

  His brain spun in a swirling circle. He always had been able to corral his emotions until she crashed into his life. “Bloody hell!” That damn pirate better attack soon. He wanted her off this ship and out of his life.

  He pushed away from the door and hurried to the main deck. The smell of fresh, salt air and the sight of the calm, blue ocean soothed him and blew away his troubles. He wished a gale would sweep her away.

  He scanned the deck. All seemed in order. His mind was another matter.

  “Morgan, did Arianna change into dry clothes?”

  Andrew knew of the incident. Maybe he could relate the specifics since the virago below would not. “Yes, and since she doesn’t own a dress, only those damn pants, she won’t return to her duties until the outfit I gave her is dry.”

  “It is just as well.”

  “What happened tonight?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Only that Briggs was involved. I found them together, but they both insisted there was no problem.”

  Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t get anything out of her, except it was a personal matter.” He slammed his hand down on the rail. “Bloody hell! I don’t want her near Briggs. He is mean and three times her size.”

  “Morgan,” Andrew said in his thoughtful voice. “Maybe she should remain in your cabin for the rest of the voyage.”

  Morgan lifted one side of his mouth in a parody of a smile. “Somehow, I don’t think she would stay there. She doesn’t follow orders well.”

  “As I found out tonight.” Andrew rubbed his hands together. “It’s getting chilly. I had to order her to go below a few times before she actually went. She tried to return without changing, but when she noticed me waiting, she decided against it.” His short laugh echoed in the night. “She can be a handful. I don’t envy you.”

  At least, Andrew knew a bit of what he dealt with, but he couldn’t reveal all to him. Especially the kiss. Susan was his sister. He wouldn’t take it kindly if he learned the man his sister was to wed kissed another woman.

  He gazed up at the stars sparkling in the night sky but discovered no answers to his quandary there. He would have to keep a short leash on his emotions, even if her kiss was the sweetest, most sensual he ever experienced. She enjoyed it and was as lost in the sensations as he was. And he would bet his kiss on those softly curved lips was the first she experienced, or close to it. He was pleased to find her willing to follow his lead. Her hot, trim body pressed against his and the feel of her rear beneath his hand…

  Stop it. He angled his bulging erection away from Andrew and struggled to banish memories of her. That is what they would remain. Memories. And he refused to add to those. He glanced at Andrew, who watched him with that look that spied too much. “Keep an eye on Briggs. I don’t want him anywhere near Arianna.”

  When Morgan finally dug up the nerve to return to his cabin, he discovered Arianna sound asleep in her hammock where he prayed she would be. His heart constricted at the way he had treated her. She was so exhausted she collapsed into the hammock without removing her clothes. A purple tinge shaded the area beneath her eyes. And even though she had been doused with water, dirt smudged her face and the backs of her hands and muted the shine of her lovely hair.

  His boot nudged something soft, and he dropped his gaze to the floor where her few possessions spilled out of her open bag. He shook his head. Did she ever put anything in its proper place? He folded a pair of pants and a shirt and placed them neatly inside. Picking up what he thought was another garment, he discovered a rag doll. Only it wasn’t shaped like a person but like a cat. His brows lowered as he turned it over in his hands. Why would she have this? With no answer forthcoming, he stuffed it in the sack, closed the bag, and placed it in the corner by her hammock.

  Snatching a soft, wool blanket off his berth, he gently laid it over her. She had been wet and cold earlier, and he didn’t want her to catch a chill. Then he removed the canvas shoes still protecting her small feet and placed them beneath her on the floor.

  She looked so small and vulnerable.

  If she didn’t appear on deck for her next shift, he refused to wake her. Arianna wouldn’t thank him, but possessing a reckless nature, she didn’t know what was good for her.

  He blew out the lantern and padded to his berth. He wouldn’t sleep, would hear every sound she made, and suffer an ache in his groin as his body argued with his mind to pick Arianna up and imprison her in his bed with him, but he should attempt to rest. He plopped on top of the covers. Lying on his back, he concentrated hard on the familiar creak of the ship, the whoosh of the wind filling the sails, the clang of the rigging and the slap of the waves breaking against the hull as a beautiful woman with blue eyes and blonde hair struggled to intrude.

  Chapter Six

  Arianna turned over on the feather mattress in her cheerful room decorated in blue and yellow and landed on the hard, wooden floor of a ship. Her eyes flew open in shock and alarm until she remembered what had happened and where she was. A groan escaped. Every muscle ached. Grabbing the side of the hammock to lean on as she rose, a wool blanket fell on top of her head. She yanked it off. Where had it come from? She hadn’t brought one with her and didn’t recall curling up in its softness before falling asleep. Of course, she had been so tired she didn’t remember much.

  Except the kiss.

  Why did he do it? They were arguing one moment and the next, his passionate lips attacked hers. She struggled to her feet. At first, his lips punished, but then they softened and caressed. And she liked it. Too much. He wasn’t as cold and unfeeling as she thought. His kiss and hands heated her and created a tingling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  How could she face him, the captain of this ship, after what happened?

  Unfortunately, she had no choice.

  Was it a plan to bring her under his control? All men believed women the weaker sex who needed guidance, but she refused to live by their foolish notions. Maybe he thought kisses and seduction the perfect weapons to change her mind about becoming a seaman.

  Well, he was mistaken, and she’d prove him wrong.

  What time was it? She glanced out the window and discovered the sun high in the sky. She gasped. She had slept longer than four hours. Why hadn’t he wakened her?

  Because he didn’t want her working on his ship.

  She found her skirt and bodice lying across a chair and frowned. That wasn’t where she left them. She had left them…crumpled in a ball on the floor. W
here they never would have dried. Captain Danvers must have placed them there. For that, she silently thanked him. He could have forced her to stay in the cabin for another day.

  The hinges on the door creaked. Her heart beating a racing rhythm, she spun to face Captain Danvers. But instead, a friendly Mark peeked around the corner.

  “You are finally awake.” Mark swung the door wide open and dragged in a hip bath. “The cap’n says you’re to have a bath.”

  A bath. She would love one. She ran her hands though her wiry hair, and her short nails drudged up dirt stuck to her scalp. Salt coated her stiff face and arms. It would feel heavenly to be clean again. Then a wayward thought crept forward. The crew was not experiencing this luxury. And she wouldn’t either.

  Longing filled her eyes as Mark poured hot, steaming water into the hip bath. Her itchy body pleaded with her not to do what her mind rationalized was necessary, but she ignored it. She laid her hand on Mark’s arm. “There is no need to continue.”

  Mark glanced at the scant liquid that lined the bottom. “You are small, but you need more than this.”

  “I am not taking a bath.” She jerked her yearning gaze away from the delicious water calling to her.

  “The cap’n—”

  “I don’t care what Captain Danvers said.”

  Mark’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh, but you must. You have to obey his commands.”

  Unfortunately, he was right. Wasn’t that part of a seaman’s job? To follow orders?

  But she didn’t like special favors.

  “He is in a bad mood today. You don’t want to cross him. And if you make him angrier, he will take it out on us.”

  She bit her lower lip. She couldn’t let that happen. Reluctant anticipation filled her. “Then continue. I don’t want you to suffer because of something I did.”

  Mark donned a big smile and resumed his efforts. When he finished, he exited and returned again with towels and soap. He pointed to the garments spread across the chair. “The cap’n had me wash your clothes. The wind and sun on deck dried them quickly.”

  Arianna was grateful for their pristine condition. She had cringed at the thought of putting on the filthy garments. “Thank you, Mark.”

  A huge grin wreathed his eager face. “Let me know when you’re finished, and I’ll bring you something to eat. Breakfast ended long ago, but I’m sure I can find something.” He scampered from the room.

  She stared at the water, suspicion filling her. Why did Captain Danvers offer her a hot bath and a clean outfit?

  At this moment, she was too grateful to care. She threw off her clothes and dashed to the hip bath. Reclining in the luxurious depths, she belatedly thought of the unlocked door and glanced over her shoulder. Nothing could be done—she had seen to that—except pray Captain Danvers didn’t enter.

  She should hurry, but she couldn’t find the will to do so and soaked her aching muscles in the relaxing water until it started to cool. Then she scrubbed her skin and hair with the lavender soap until it felt silky once again and the curls twined around her fingers. Refreshed, she stepped from the bath. Drying herself in record time with the huge, white towel, she donned the skirt and bodice before the captain returned. The cabin was his after all. Feeling in control of the situation, she hummed as she combed and braided her hair.

  Energetic and once more like herself, she started to exit the cabin until the incident with Briggs last night popped into her brain. She frowned. He was a dangerous man and didn’t forget anyone who slighted him. And apparently, she was his target. Her five brothers had taught her a few ways to defend herself and how to use a knife. Thomas suggested she strap it to her thigh under her skirt when she thought she might need it.

  Now, if she only had one.

  She scanned the cabin. Maybe the captain had a knife hidden among his possessions. She rifled though his desk again, this time taking care to replace his papers in the order he had left them. Finding nothing, she rummaged through the drawers under his bed and discovered exactly what she needed tucked under his pants at the bottom. The blade being only four inches, it was smaller than she would have liked, but it would have to do. Grabbing a neckcloth, she hiked up her skirt and tied the scabbard with the weapon inside on her thigh.

  Confident of her ability to fend off an attacker, she exited the cabin and hurried to the main deck to begin her duties for the day. Arianna spotted the captain at the bow of the ship, giving lessons to the younger members of his crew on how to navigate with a sextant. Wary to approach after what happened last night, she followed his movements as he taught. His instructions were clear and precise, and as they practiced, he adjusted the instrument or a hand and answered questions. Patient, he never lost his temper when a particularly unskilled student repeated the same mistake.

  He must have felt her reluctant stare because he raised his head and scoured the deck until his gaze landed on her. The kiss, the tenderness, and the sensations he inspired erupted within her as if his passionate lips once again glided over hers and his tongue seductively explored her mouth. Heat scorched her face that wasn’t from the sun. Almost as if an invisible thread strung them together and he pulled it with unseen hands, she drifted toward him, oblivious of the working crew.

  ****

  “Captain Danvers. Captain Danvers. Sir?”

  John’s repeated query yanked Morgan from the daze that enveloped him as soon as he spotted Arianna. She looked refreshed and livelier today. The blue of her eyes glowed. Her drawn face and the unhealthy purple beneath her eyes had vanished. He didn’t have the heart to inflict on her the same amount of work as yesterday. Besides, his plan hadn’t worked.

  “Yes, Mr. Perkins,” he answered the boy. He forced his mind to remain focused as John asked his question and he answered it.

  Then the heat of her body slid into him, and he couldn’t help but tilt his head down to her. An attractive shade of pink colored her face. Apparently, she also remembered their amorous encounter last night. He could never forget it. Or her. “Arianna, would you like to join our navigation lessons?”

  “Thank you, Captain Danvers, but I already know how to navigate. My papa taught me.”

  He should have realized she’d be capable in this aspect as she was in all areas of sailing. “Then you can help those who need it.”

  A smile lit her expressive face. “Is that one of my duties for today?”

  He hadn’t thought about it, but acting as his assistant was safe, not strenuous, and would keep her under his watchful eye. “Yes.”

  “Then, I would be happy to.”

  He peered at her, unable to turn away, as she moved from one boy to the next. Her graceful hands with their long fingers captured his attention as she helped his students. When she patted a shoulder, touched them in a reassuring manner, or laid her fingers on a hand or arm, he imagined their softness caressing his yearning flesh. Her regard drifted to him from time to time but darted away when her gaze met his.

  The patter of running feet heralded Mark’s appearance. “Arianna, you didn’t tell me you finished your bath. I was going to bring you something to eat.”

  “I’m sorry, Mark. It is so late in the day I wanted to begin my duties. No one woke me this morning.” Disapproval flashed across her face as she glanced at Morgan.

  “No member of my crew begins his or her shift without food in his or her stomach. Mark, bring a full plate to the quarterdeck along with a table and two chairs,” Morgan commanded.

  Mark dashed off.

  “We are finished here. Men, you are dismissed.” He turned to Arianna. “Follow me.”

  “But, Captain—”

  “That is an order.”

  She frowned. “Aye, Captain.”

  A slight smile slipped onto his face before he squashed it as he headed toward the quarterdeck, expecting her compliance. She owned such an expressive face. Her every feeling crossed it.

  He relayed orders to the helmsman and then turned to find her directly behind him. App
arently, she finally realized who ran this ship.

  “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “Because you needed your sleep. You were exhausted.”

  “But every seaman is on watch for four hours with four hours off. I don’t want special treatment because I am a woman. I should be expected—”

  “My seamen are seasoned men who are used to hard work.” She started to speak, but he held up his hand and she miraculously halted. “When was the last time you worked on one of your father’s ship?”

  She lowered her eyes. “When I was twelve…nine years ago.”

  He lifted his brows in satisfaction that he was right. “And you think to match them?”

  She stepped toward him. “I felt caged for every one of those nine years, but now I am free. I can do it. I am strong, young, and healthy.”

  He backed up. He couldn’t allow her to touch him or he’d lose his concentration and resolve. “And a female.”

  She plunked her elegant hands on her rounded hips. “That should not stop you from assigning me the same tasks.”

  “Unfortunately, it does.”

  Mark scurried back and forth as he set an area for her to dine.

  “I must work on this ship.”

  His gut clenched at the need in her voice, and he remembered the story she told him of a mother and her children begging in the streets. Fear for the future motivated her. He had experienced the same anxiety when caring for the family he loved and not knowing where the next meal would come from.

  He gestured to one of the chairs. “Sit.”

  Her probing gaze assessed him as the wind ruffled wisps of hair that had escaped from her braid and now framed her face. He stared back, determined she would obey his command. She finally plopped onto the seat of the chair with a huff, and he eased onto the one next to her.

  Mark laid a wooden tray carrying slices of bread, hard cheese, an orange, and tea before her. “If you’d rather have something else, I’m sure I can find it.”

  A wide smile lifted her lips. “No, Mark. This is fine.” The grin fell from her face as she turned back to him. “Will you allow me to work among the crew?”