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“I wonder if this journey will be uneventful.” Smitty spoke while locating a pair of black breeches and a white shirt for his captain to wear.
Drake shrugged. “Soon enough we will see if Napoleon has any surprises in store for us. As long as his reign continues, anything is possible.” He sat down heavily on the bed, contemplating the situation. Unfortunately there was no way to know; he could only prepare for the worst.
Smitty tugged off Drake’s boots and placed them beside the bed. “Once we have loaded our timber, we ought to hasten our departure from Canada, should your suspicions of impending war be correct.”
Drake stood, tossing his coat and shirt aside and carelessly dropping his pantaloons. “I agree,” he replied, stretching.
Smitty was unbothered by Drake’s nakedness.
Alexandria was not.
Flat on her stomach, she had frozen at the sound of the bed slats as they groaned beneath Drake’s weight. Once she realized that she was not to be crushed, she remained still, listening to the conversation of the two men above her.
Smitty’s comments were lost to her. All she could focus on was the deep baritone that belonged to the other man. His voice was like rough silk—deep and shivery, yet so pleasing that she strained to hear more, happy to remain there forever.
Until he began to undress.
Although not overly modest, Alex had never seen a man clad in anything less than neck-to-foot attire. Oh, she had wondered from time to time what her reaction would be to an unclothed man. But never in her wildest dreams had she imagined the reaction she was having now, when confronted with the strong, hair-covered legs just inches away from her nose.
Taut muscles defined the well-shaped calves, tapering down to narrow ankles and large feet. He looked like rough silk. A blush suffused Alex’s body as she realized that, instead of closing her eyes and turning away from this forbidden sight, she had a dreadful urge to poke her head out and see just where the powerful hair-roughened limbs would lead. Or worse, to reach out and touch them, to see if they felt like rough silk as well.
And all the while that incredible voice continued to speak, commanding and sure. How could such a devastating voice and such an overpowering body belong to one man?
Alex’s mouth went dry.
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nbsp; Unaware of the emotional turmoil transpiring beneath his bed, Drake finished dressing, waving away Smitty’s efforts. “Please, Smitty, I do believe I am capable of buttoning a shirt.” He grinned. But when it came to his boots, Smitty’s grumbling grew so loud that Drake relented, allowing his friend to help.
Moments later they exited the cabin, leaving a trembling Alex bewildered and alone.
Alex waited many minutes after their footsteps had faded. When she could bear the discomfort no longer, she wriggled out from her hiding place, whimpering as she flexed her cramped limbs. She was still shaking from the intensity of her physical reaction to the bare-legged stranger. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her raw nerves. Sanity returned, slowly. It’s just fatigue, she assured herself. Fatigue and tension are causing me to panic.
At last she felt her heart rate slow. Whoever the mysterious occupant of the cabin was, he was merely a man.
At five bells an exhausted Drake, satisfied with the ship’s progress, informed Smitty of his intention to go below to dine in his cabin. Upon opening his door, he expected to find one of cook’s fine meals and a hearty drink. What he found instead was a beautiful but disheveled woman clad in a somewhat dusty muslin gown, whose golden brown hair was tousled about her exquisite, delicate features and whose fathomless gray eyes gazed up at him with a mixture of apprehension and candor.
But the haughty words uttered by the unbearably sensual mouth were anything but meek.
“I’m quite hungry, sir. When will luncheon be served?”
Chapter 3
“WHO THE HELL ARE you?” Even as Drake’s furious voice boomed out, he realized that his first impression had been accurate. The fairy-tale creature sitting stiffly at his desk was terrified, the vein in her slender neck pulsing rapidly despite her bravado. At his angry words she swallowed and clutched her hands more tightly together, but she did not flinch or drop her wide gray gaze from his shocked, burning one.
She replied in a voice that rang with confidence, “Who am I? I am Lady Alexandria, daughter of Geoffrey Cassel, the Earl of Sudsbury and the newly appointed governor of York.”
“I don’t give a damn if you’re the queen,” Drake fired back, striding toward her. “What the hell are you doing on my ship?”
Alex blinked but held her ground. “There is no need for profanity, sir, nor is there cause for you to bellow like a wounded animal. If you will address me properly I shall be more than happy to answer your questions.”
Drake almost laughed out loud. Here she was, blatantly trespassing on his beloved ship, yet gazing up at him through those damned spellbinding eyes as though she expected an apology. And, worse, he felt like offering one. He shook his head in amazement.
“All right, Miss ……excuse me, Lady Alexandria.” He spoke in a mocking voice that was deadly quiet. “Now that we have established who you are, may I repeat my second question?” He paused. “What are you doing aboard my ship?”
“Traveling to York and to my father, of course,” she answered primly.
“Of course,” Drake muttered through clenched teeth. “And how, may I ask, did you gain access not only to my ship but to my cabin?”
