Page 19 of The Rogue

“A sloop?” he demanded as he adjusted the glass.

“Aye,” Mousy said, his expression grim. “She’ll catch us.”

“You’re sure she’s in pursuit?”

Mousy snorted. “There’s a chance we’re followin’ the same course, aye.”

Lars shook his head, laughing. “No, I don’t believe it either. All right, do what you can to keep her at bay for now and we’ll decide when to engage her.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Lars watched as the big man strode away from him. He wasn’t surprised they were being followed. He’d expected as much. The price on his head was significant enough now for him to be a target worth pursuing. But the amount of militia men that had come for him meant they’d known not only that he was coming ashore but where to look.

They’d been waiting for him.

An icy finger of doubt trailed down his back. They’d known because someone had told them. The only question was who? The only man there ahead of him, the one who had written the letter, was one of his most trusted men, sent on ahead to get the information he required before he came ashore.

He knew instinctively that he was not the source of this mischief. Which meant the information had to have been sent on before they landed. The last time they made port, perhaps, when he had made his intentions known to the crew.

Which meant someone on his ship intended to profit from betraying him, and he no longer knew who he could trust.

Chapter 11

“Wherein battle lines are drawn.”

Henri sat on the bed with a blanket wrapped around her and shivered. She’d never been so cold in all her life, not to mention miserable ... and thoroughly confused. The sound of the slamming door seemed to echo in her ears without cease and she felt utterly bewildered by what had just happened.

What on earth had she been thinking? She’d just finished off telling him he was the last man on earth she would ever contemplate and the next moment she’d wrapped herself around him like ivy round an oak tree.

She put her head in her hands and groaned. Whatever must he think of her. That he’d been the one to break the kiss and leave the room was even more disturbing. He was the Rogue for heaven’s sake! Notorious pirate, seducer of women and the furthest thing from a gentleman you should be able to find in all the seven seas. And yet, she had been his for the taking. Her body’s desires had far outweighed and trampled over any of the bold and honourable intentions her brain may have happily spouted to him just moments before. One kiss and she’d have thrown it all away and become one of those sluttish women she’d disparaged so cruelly only moments before.

Well, not just one kiss, she amended. It had been many kisses, dozens and dozens of delicious, soft, tender kisses. She shivered again and knew it wasn’t the cold to blame. Heat burned beneath her skin as she recalled just how he had made her feel. Dear God in heaven the man was a menace. She was going to have to stay far away from him if she was to have any chance of reaching land with her honour intact.

She looked around the tiny confines of the cabin with dismay and wondered just how many nights she would need to endure. For she doubted very much that he would give up his cabin, and even if he continued to act out of character and play the gentleman, for whatever reason had possessed him, she wasn’t at all sure she could continue to be a lady.

Perhaps that was it, she thought wildly. Perhaps they were both possessed by some strange force that had taken hold of them and made them both act out of character. So he would play the gentleman and she would play the whore? No! That was not going to happen. She was not going to have her head turned by a handsome face and a wicked smile. She had more backbone than that and she was damn well going to stiffen it.

With this resolution held firmly in her mind she decided she’d best keep busy and began by making the bed and sweeping the broken glass up.

She had just managed to squeeze herself under his desk in pursuit of a last errant shard when the door swung open, and her pirate captain strode into the room. She straightened so quickly she banged her head severely on the desk and cursed with an enthusiasm that Annie would have been proud of.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She glared up, blinking away stars to see concerned blue eyes looking down at her. He reached out a hand and against her better judgement she took it, suppressing the shiver of awareness that prickled over her skin as his warm fingers closed over hers.

“What on earth were you doing?” he asked, amusement and far too much warmth in his expression.

Henri rubbed her head and looked at him with suspicion. “I was clearing up the glass. I told you I’d make myself useful. I meant it.”

He nodded, apparently approving. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Especially as I seem to come off the worse for wear whenever we cross swords,” he said, waving his bandaged hand as the corners of his mouth tilted up.

Henri’s suspicions increased and she refused to acknowledge the fact that he looked adorable when he was trying to be reasonable; like a tiger trying to blend in at a tea party. He gestured to a plate he’d placed on his desk.

“I thought you must be hungry?” To her mortification, Henri’s stomach gave a loud and insistent grumble the moment her eyes focused on the plate, bearing bread, cheese and a slightly wrinkled apple. “I thought so.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I could eat something,” she said, avoiding his gaze with care and moving to the chair he drew out for her to sit down.

He moved around to the other side of the desk and sat as well, apparently determined to watch her break her fast. Henri ignored him. She was too hungry to be put off her food and too set on not being drawn down dangerous paths again to catch his eye.