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“Then I envy you.” There was no anger in her pearl gray eyes now, only sadness.

“You envy me?” He was shocked by her statement and amused by the irony of it. He, too, envied the man she believed him to be. Captain Drake Barrett, unencumbered and free. But he wondered at her reasoning. “Why?”

“Because you know who you are. Because you have everything you want. But most of all, because you have lived all the adventures of which I can only dream.”

“What could I possibly have that you, in your fairy-tale world, would envy?”

She stared off into space, the sounds of the crew and the motion of the sea fading away. At his question her eyes became vague and dreamy. “Freedom, the ability to decide your own future, a place where you belong.”

“You want those things?” He was dumbfounded.

Her gaze returned to his. “I don’t expect you to understand, Captain.” The softness was gone; the arrogance was back. She turned to leave the quarterdeck.

“You never answered my question,” he reminded her.

She paused. “Which one?”

“Where did you learn so much about sailing?”

“I told you. At home.”

“Firsthand?”

“Yes. I have a small skiff. The Sea Spray is nothing compared to La Belle Illusion, but she means a great deal to me.”

That he understood. “There is a tremendous difference between steering a small skiff and maneuvering a large vessel like this one,” he pointed out.

“I guessed as much.”

Silence.

“Would you like to try your hand at the helm?” Drake had no idea what possessed him to ask the question.

Alex looked as amazed as Drake felt. Her shock quickly faded into little-girl eagerness. “May I?” Her whole face lit up.

Drake grinned, unable to resist the enchanting picture she made. Quite a contrast: a desirable woman with the enthusiasm of a child and the tongue of an outspoken shrew, dressed comically in the attire of a man.

“Man the helm, princess, before I regain my senses and change my mind.” With an exaggerated gesture, he motioned for her to take the wheel.

She needed no second invitation but fairly flew to the helm. It felt glorious, the surge of power beneath her hands, the clean cut of the ship through the water. The proud snap of the British flag waving from the mast heralded her arrival and welcomed her. All around, the boisterous sounds of the sailors at work and the shrill of the boatswain’s pipes filled the air. In those first seconds at the helm the world was hers.

Drake watched the elation on her face and felt an answering echo inside him. “The wheel is larger than you are,” he chuckled, as she struggled to keep it steady. He placed his large tapered hands over hers, preparing to instruct her.

Her hands felt cold and small beneath his.

He might have been able to resist the protective and primitive instincts she aroused in him had it not been for the motion of the ship, which chose that moment to sway slightly, pressing Alexandria back against Drake’s chest.

They both froze at the contact.

He was aware of her all at once—the scent of her hair, the fragile feel of her fine-boned body against his, the shivering warmth and softness of her body. Unleashed hunger pumped through his veins, and he gritted his teeth, striving for a control that appeared out of his reach.

Alex felt him tense, but all of her energy was being channeled into finding her own self-control. He was so overpowering, everything about him dominating and strong. His well-muscled body, parts of which she remembered only too vividly from her view beneath the bed, his masculine scent, his towering height, the sheer magnetism that radiated from his very presence. Alex closed her eyes, her heart threatening to beat its way right out of her chest.

His arms tightened around her and she allowed herself, for just a few seconds, to relax in his embrace, to forget the rest of the world.

Drake nuzzled her hair, his own breathing unsteady. “You have an incredible effect on me, princess,” he muttered, his voice husky, his lips buried in her hair. He lifted one hand from hers, wrapped it around her waist, and pulled her more firmly against his throbbing body. “Incredible,” he repeated, marveling at how good she felt.

Alexandria tensed. Inexperienced as she was, she knew what the hardened contours of his body meant. “Don’t,” she whispered in a small, frightened voice. “Please.”

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