Sea of Ruin - Pam Godwin Page 0,67

beneath the hunger of forty unwashed men.”

The wind grabbed my hair and tried to wrench me out to the sea. I dug my fingers into his muscled back and pressed my face against his chest, absorbing his words and cleaving to his strength.

He didn’t need to keep me in restraints. Didn’t need to guard his weapons. Didn’t need his soldiers to thwart my actions. He imprisoned me with a solid, genuine threat.

“You can wander freely.” His mouth moved against my cheek. “I’ve been very clear about what will happen if you attack me or any man on this ship.”

My stomach hardened.

He gripped my arm and pulled me down from the rail. My legs wobbled as I stepped into his sleeping chamber, looking for a place to sit.

A privacy screen concealed the washbasin and chamber pot. A chair sat beside the armoire. Within the wall across from that was a vaulted chamber made to enclose the overstuffed mattress on three sides.

The air smelled like mint and cedar and cleanliness. Every breath I took was too intimate, too masculine, too him. Where did he expect me to sleep?

My gaze flitted to the bed and jerked away.

As much as I needed to collapse, I chose to stand. “How did you recognize me?”

“I didn’t.” He set the knife on the small table beside me.

I sagged beneath the throbbing accumulation of the day’s injuries with no desire to look at the knife and even less desire to use it.

“If you set that there to test my intelligence, I’m offended.” I gave the hilt a hard flick and left it spinning like a wheel on the table as I strolled away. “On a good day I can wield a blade against armies of men twice my size. You should also know I’m a dead shot with a pistol. But today’s not a good day.”

His face, too smooth and polished to require a barber’s razor, gave no reaction.

“Can I be frank with you, Ashley?” I wandered through his private space, touching everything from blankets and clothing to furniture and trinkets just to annoy him.

“I expect nothing less.”

“After being thrown off a ship twice in one day, only to end the night with a ruthless spanking on my lady parts—”

“The night isn’t over.”

I flung a glare at him. “I cannot simply forget these things occurred. You can trust that when I fall asleep, I’ll dream of my hands throttling your throat until your lips turn blue, and your eyes pop from your face like corks. But…” I held up a finger without looking at him. “I’m not foolish enough to retaliate. When I make mistakes, I learn from them.”

I turned and pointed at my swollen jaw, just one of the many aches he’d inflicted in the past few hours.

“I’m pleased to hear that you understand my expectations.” He braced his boots in a noble stance and raised his squared jaw, staring down his nose at me.

“God’s teeth, Commodore.” I squinted up at him. “Do you ever grow tired of maintaining that stiff upper lip?”

“Do you ever grow tired of mocking the great and the good?”

“No. Positively never.”

He stood like a statue for a minute or twenty. At length, he dragged a palm down his face, over his mouth, and let his shoulder drop against the wall.

Better? His cocked eyebrow asked.

The stiff lip was impossibly stiffer.

I shook my head. “Lord Ashley Cutler. All suited and booted and looking polished enough to hold the king’s cock while he pisses.”

“Your mouth is appalling.” His gaze slid to the object of his gall.

“Is that your appalled expression? It looks the same as all your others, so I can’t be sure. But honestly, Ashley, if my mouth disturbs you, why do you stare at it so?”

His eyes returned to mine. Deep blue gemstone eyes, thickly lashed and sensually hooded. Oh, how they must grow weary of watching females swoon in his path.

Flickering lantern light gilded his sculpted features and cast shadows over his perfectly combed, inky black hair. So shiny and lush, that hair. It was hard to believe it had ever been exposed to sun or salty air.

He was magnificent to behold, a distinguished officer in his prime who had just won a war and sailed across an ocean to capture Madwulf MacNally and the daughter of Edric Sharp. He would be the envy of his peers upon his return.

How long had he been at sea? Was he in a hurry to sail home? I was wildly curious to know what he

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