Page 96 of Dangerous

“Not like a slave—like a wife. My wife. I am your husband and that is the way of things.”

“How much you must like that! I am lower even than your servants, who at least can leave your employ if they come to hate you.” Her chest was rising and falling fast, yet she could not get enough air.

He would leave her here alone and if something bad happened, she would be the last person to know. And she would be powerless to help. Just as she’d been for years.

He picked his breeches off the floor, where they’d fallen in the midst of their passion.

“Tell yourself whatever you must, my lady. You will still obey me. You will do so even if I have to leave you here in leg irons.” His voice was quiet but his movements were jerky.

She looked in his arctic eyes and sneered. “I am no better than a broodmare to you. As long as I submit to you, spread my legs, and bear your children like some ignorant sow, you will treat me well. The moment I wish to think for myself, I see what happens.”

“You are becoming hysterical. I am only concerned for your safety.”

The slight control that remained to her snapped at the word hysterical. “I am not becoming anything! You are driving me to hysteria! Is this how you drove one wife to kill herself and another to run to away?”

He’d been pulling his shirt over his head, and time froze as the garment floated down onto his shoulders. Mia closed her eyes, hoping the moment would go on forever, but she knew it wouldn’t. She would have to face the consequences of her horrible words.

She opened her eyes and found a stranger in front of her. She took a step back at the hard look on his face.

The only sounds in the cabin were her labored breathing and Adam’s quiet movements as he completed his dressing.

“Adam—”

He raised one hand, palm out. “No, you listen to me. I have tolerated enough from you on this matter. You will remain in this cabin until we depart for England. Bouchard has my leave to lock you in here if you disobey.” He buttoned his waistcoat with deliberate movements and yanked his coat from the chair where it had been draped. He shoved back his hair, still damp from their lovemaking, and took his sword belt from the closet before going to the cabin door.

She rushed to him. “Adam, please!” She took his arm in both hands and he froze.

“Unhand me, madam.” His quiet voice was like a razor.

She dropped her hands and he left without looking back, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

* * *

Adam was pitifully grateful nobody was up and about when he reached the deck. He couldn’t imagine their argument had gone unnoticed, at least not Mia’s half of it.

He went to the foredeck and sat on one of the storage boxes.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, resting his elbows on his thighs before dropping his head into his hands. That had not gone well. Her words had hurt, but it had been her heartbroken face that had almost undone him. She had believed he was angry with her, and he’d decided in that instant to use her belief and just go—it was easier to end it that way. She would never agree with his decision, and he would never change his mind.

“That bad, eh?” a voice behind him asked in French.

Adam jolted and looked up to see Bouchard standing beside him.

“You move like a damned cat.”

Bouchard smiled and handed him a slim cigar.

“These come from a small plantation on Hispaniola. It is the only plantation that employs workers, not slaves.”

Adam paused and then took it. What was the point in sitting here and reliving the disturbing confrontation with Mia? He might as well smoke.

The two men stood by the railing and looked at the distant shore.

“Ramsay will meet us soon.”

Adam nodded. Both ships kept birds that were used to exchange messages when flags or yelling weren’t an option. He took a puff of the cigar and contemplated the burning tip before slowly exhaling. “What do you think the chances are of Ramsay’s plan working?”

“It depends on whether the old entrance to the slave quarters was ever found and if Assad is keeping the boy where we think.”