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His voice, a deep rumble with a Scottish burr that took her back to her childhood, appealed to her senses immensely. It also made her respond by giving the name her kin would call her. “Maisie.”
“Maisie.” He broke into a grin. “You are a Scot.”
“That I am.” Despite her wariness toward him, something unfurled inside her: the tight fist of concern that surrounded her escape. Now that she was truly on her way, she thought of the destination instead. Scotland. It was a journey she should have undertaken many years before. But her master had promised to take her himself, telling her she would enjoy a reunion with her siblings—and she had believed him. Once she found out how many lies he had told her, she knew that a reunion would happen only if she were to pursue it herself.
“Come now, take off your cloak.” The captain nodded at her, then turned to his table. He was so broad and tall that he seemed to fill the space, yet he managed to move around it easily. Familiarity, she supposed. He exchanged the map that was currently laid out with a different one, swapping the sheet of parchment for one he retrieved from a stack of rolls in a recess above.
Maisie set down her bundle and reached for the clasp on her cloak. As she took it off and folded it neatly, she had an odd feeling, sensed an echo of familiarity with her surroundings—which could not be the case. Looking about, she frowned. She ran her fingers along the sideboard, and something touched her mind, like a memory trapped within. When she laid her hands upon various objects in the cabin, the connection grew stronger. It was as if she knew someone who had traveled here before.
For a moment, she was aware of her twin sister, Jessie. Maisie sensed her in a way that she had not for many years. It was rather like times when they were children and they would turn to each other, state the same thing and chuckle. Maisie had felt that connection rarely in the years they had been apart, but when it happened, she could sense Jessie thinking of her, too. Could it be her sister had also traveled aboard this vessel at some time? Was that it? “Have you carried a woman aboard before?”
The captain was busy disrobing. He’d thrown off his greatcoat and set about unbuttoning the waistcoat beneath. Maisie stared at him as he shrugged off the garment, revealing the broad expanse of his chest when he stretched. Surely he did not mean to undress fully and claim his fee from her right at this moment?
He glanced her way, and as he replied, reached for a cloak that was tucked in a gloomy corner of the cabin. A momentary sense of relief passed through her as she realized he was changing his shore garb for this odd dark cloak, coated in some thick substance akin to oil pigment. The odor of linseed came from the garment, along with something else that smelled like sap or tar, Maisie observed with curiosity.
“We carried a female passenger once before. My men vowed they would mutiny if I tried it again.” His stare raked over her, the implication heavy in his sensual smile. He had risked the wrath of his men taking her on board, and he meant to be well rewarded.
The hungry look in his eyes sent a shiver through her. It was a clear statement of intent. He meant to have her. That in itself was no surprise; it was what she had arranged. But the way he looked at her, with his mouth pursed, as if he was thinking lewd thoughts... The very intimate and suggestive nature of it made her wonder what it would be like to be bedded by a rogue such as this—a man who thought nothing of giving her a sound slap on the rump if he chose to. It made her heart beat faster and let loose a flutter of anticipation between her thighs. She would experience his passion, and soon, by the eager look of him. That made the tingle in her intimate places grow wilder still. Heat flooded into her face.
Forcing herself to ask, she pursued that strange echo in her mind. “Did your passenger look like me?”
He shook his head. “Not in the least. She was a grumpy dowager who ordered my men about as if she were queen and captain both.”
His expression indicated the extent of the trouble the woman had caused, and Maisie found she could not help being amused. “Now I see why you were reluctant to take me.”
“You’d better not cause me as much grief as she did.”
Maisie lifted her chin. “I will endeavor not to.”
She thought he was about to leave. Instead, he approached her, and again there was hunger in his eyes.
Maisie felt her nerves flutter. Anticipation pulled deep within her, for she’d been thoroughly prepared for the moment her deepest, most powerful magic would be unleashed through carnal congress. This man would be her lover. He would make her both woman fulfilled and witch empowered.
“In fact, you must stay here, safe in my quarters and out of the men’s way, or there’ll be trouble aplenty.”
Maisie did not like the sound of that. She could not survive long without seeing the sky. “How many days will the journey take?”
“We’ll dock in Dundee inside a week. We break at Lowestoft, where the first officer must visit with his family for the night, but we’ll be gone with the tide in the morning. The pause will not hamper us much.” Captain Cameron nodded at the bed. “Rest awhile.”
“You must go back to your men now?” she asked, finding herself eager to know her host a little better, keen to listen to his gruff voice and have it stir her deepest memories and her anticipation both.
“Alas, I must, although I would rather stay and bed you now.”
Inhaling sharply, Maisie reflected that it would take time to get used to his frank manner. He gave a low laugh in response, the rumbling sound vibrating through her.
“Let me look at you, so that I may relish the thought of returning to your side.” He put one hand on her waist and pulled her body closer to his.
He leaned into her, his face so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath on her forehead. His large figure looming over her all but shrouded her in darkness, making her instantly aware of his male strength and power. She could scarcely control her erratic breathing, for his proximity and boldness overwhelmed her and made her feel light-headed.
His stubbled jaw brushed against her cheek, a gesture brusque, but oddly tender.
“You smell good,” he whispered, breathing against her hair, his hands moving over her as if measuring her outline. From arms to waist and then up they went, his thumbs moving toward her breastbone, while his palms cupped her breasts through the barrier of her bodice, corset and under things. Squeezing her flesh through the hindersome garments, he murmured approvingly.
Then his hands moved around her back and down. Cupping her bottom, he drew her against him. With effortless strength he lifted her feet from the floor, and she was barely on her tiptoes as he fondled her flesh through her skirts. So determined was his touch that Maisie gasped in astonishment.
“Oh, yes, I will enjoy mounting you, my lady,” he said, a wicked smile on his face.
Looking down at her with heavily lidded eyes, he appeared to her the embodiment of male prowe
