The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,31

the book she feigned reading. She exaggerated each turn of the page, running her finger below each line of words as though it fascinated her. When Kyle spoke to her, she only made sounds of agreement or disagreement, refusing to look at him or speak to him properly.

“Moira, put the book down now,” Kyle ordered. “I have put up with your insolent attitude for three days, accepting that this is a frightening and overwhelming experience for you. But you are worse than a spoiled wean. You are being willfully disrespectful and defiant. I don’t tolerate such nonsense from my crew, and I won’t tolerate it from my mistress.”

Moira turned a disinterested mien toward him and sniffed before she returned to her book. Inside, she quivered as she sensed Kyle’s growing anger. Part of her wanted to leave the ship and leave him. She’d escaped Dunluce expecting to make her way eventually to Barra, where she could live in peace and security. Instead, she found herself aboard a pirate ship with a man who desired her body but cared little for her person. She was certain there was a crate somewhere on deck where she could sit unobtrusively. But Kyle refused the suggestion each time she made it.

“And you are too controlling. I never actually agreed to be your mistress, Kyle. You brought me on your ship and stuffed me in your cabin. You assumed I would want to bed you. You assumed I would want to stay. You assumed I wouldn’t mind being ordered around when I ran away to escape that very thing. At least I had the freedom to move around Dunluce as I chose. You have me caged like a mongrel.”

“Then don’t snap and whine like one,” Kyle snarled.

“Are you calling me a dog?” Moira hissed.

“You’re acting like a bitch,” Kyle pointed out. He barely missed the book Moira hurled at him. Her wide eyes, pulled-in chin, and shaking head told him she’d reacted without thought or intention, but he cared not. He stalked over to her and pulled her from the bunk. He nearly shook her, but she already trembled. “Throw something at me again, and I won’t bother giving you a plank before I toss you into the drink. You’re not so talented that I can’t find another woman to suck me.”

Moira gasped as tears sprang to her eyes. Kyle had intended to be hurtful, and he had hit the mark. He’d come to the cabin to tell her that he might be able to take her to the top deck that evening, but she’d vented her spleen at him before he had the opportunity. Now he didn’t even want to lay eyes on her.

“Go to the corner, Moira. You’re not worth the effort to spank. Kneel there until I’m calm enough to return. Only then will I decide what to do with you,” Kyle said before slamming the cabin door. Moira looked around the cabin, her appetite for the midday meal gone. She swallowed as she considered what Kyle had said, and also what had been left unsaid. She knew he’d been intentionally mean out of spite, but she couldn’t wholly disagree with him. Feeling dejected, Moira went to the corner willingly. She knew it would likely be hours before Kyle returned. She could have stayed on the bed and run to the corner when she heard the key in the lock. But she’d let him down enough times already.

The least I can do is have a little honor and take the punishment I earned. What was I thinking? I’ve never thrown anything at anyone out of anger. Why would I test him like that?

Moira sighed as she lowered herself to the deck and inched closer to the corner. She closed her eyes and wondered what had become of her life. She was too tired to fight Kyle. It was getting her nowhere, and it was only widening the chasm between them. He’d told her that he wanted to care for her, and she realized this was the only way he knew how. He ordered her to remain out of the way to protect her, not punish her. The consequences she received were from her actions, not his intentions.

Bluidy bleeding hell. Shut your gob, Moira. You’ve got the brass balls of a Lombard. Why are you being so uncooperative and unreasonable? I’m not even negotiating like a bluidy pawner. I’m just digging my heels in. And a load of good it’s doing me. You