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  “No. I shall wait for the captain here.”

  “I’m afraid that is out of the question. I’ll tell him of your displeasure the moment he boards.” He nodded to the man beside her.

  The brute Denis clasped her arm in his iron grip and started toward her cabin. She tried to pull free without success. Laughter erupted from the men on deck.

  Denis easily hauled her below to a small cabin and shoved her unceremoniously inside, despite her protests. She stumbled back and almost landed on the wooden floor.

  It was then she heard the distinct, devastating sound of the lock turning into place.

  Rushing to the door, she tried the latch.

  No! She pounded on the door as hard and as fast as her heart hammered. He couldn’t… He wouldn’t! She wasn’t going to be locked up like this!

  Her stepfather’s control over her mother had been stifling. Fouquet’s heavy-handed manner had eventually eroded her mother’s spirit until she became merely an empty shell. Seeing it unfold before her eyes had shattered Angelica’s heart. She loved her mother dearly. But she was nothing like her. Had sworn to herself that she was never going to be like her. And what was happening now was frighteningly familiar.

  *****

  “C-Captain?” Paul interrupted Simon as he spoke with his ship’s commander on deck. France had just disappeared from the horizon. “The woman, Captain, the one in the carpenter’s cabin… She is quite upset. She can be heard all the way to the galley. She has been carrying on for some time now… I believe that she is…well…throwing the furniture against the door.”

  “Dieu, is the door locked?”

  “Yes, Captain, just as you ordered.”

  “I gave no such order.”

  “Denis was under the impression you had. He placed her in there.”

  Simon swore and stalked toward the carpenter’s cabin with young Paul right behind him.

  Preparing for the voyage had required Simon’s undivided attention. And therefore, he’d purposely avoided Angelica. He’d refused to be interrupted from the final meetings with his commanders, or distracted from the important communiqués he had to write to his spies in Fouquet’s household—communiqués that would be surreptitiously delivered along with the proceeds from the five warships.

  Merde. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with. The capture of La Estella Blanco was imminent. He couldn’t have his mind clouded with lust at a time like this.

  The moment he went belowdecks, he could hear the commotion coming from her cabin. Loud, devastating thuds from a heavy object bashing against the door. What was she using? A chair? The table?

  Dieu, the bed?

  He understood now why Paul had felt compelled to report her behavior.

  Simon reached the door. Paul stopped well back. “D-Do you wish me to assist, Captain?”

  Another loud slam crashed against the door.

  “Is that you?” Angelica shouted. “Are you there?” She gave the door a lesser blow, perhaps with her fist.

  Simon glanced at Paul. The younger man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking as though he wanted to bolt rather than deal with this one irate woman.

  Simon cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said.

  “I knew you were unsavory, but I never knew that you were a coward too! Do you hear me? You are a worthless COWARD!” Her words seem to resonate through the entire ship.

  Paul’s mouth fell agape, then closed, then opened once more.

  She smashed another object against the abused door.

  Paul jumped. “Wh-What do you wish to do, Captain?” he whispered.

  “Come in here and face me, coward! Or are you afraid?”

  Knowing she was looking to provoke him, Simon forced himself to draw in a deep breath and exhale slowly before he spoke. “Paul.”

  “Captain?”

  “Go.”

  The young man obeyed immediately, disappearing into the galley.

  “Why send him away?” She kicked the door. “Don’t you need others to do your dirty work for you? Are you certain you have the courage to come in here alone?” Wood splintered against the door with the intensity of a thunderclap.

  Jésus-Christ. He seized the door handle. “That’s enough! You’ve done enough damage—”

  “No! You have done the damage! Open this door!” She struck the door and gave a cry as if in pain.

  His anger drained away the moment he realized she’d injured herself.

  He unlocked the door and snatched it open.

  She stood in the middle of the cabin, holding her hand. Her head was down and her hair, arranged in a cascade of dark curls, was mussed. But it was her gown, and not the chaotic condition of the room, that froze his breath in his throat.

  Deep blue, trimmed with pale yellow ribbons, it accentuated her female attributes in the most mouthwatering way—her body clearly defined before him for the first time. His cock hardened.

  Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with her quickened breaths, the creamy skin above the bodice holding him transfixed. The temptation to run his fingers along the delicate scoop of the décolletage was overwhelming. He wanted to pull the strand of pale yellow ribbon resting so temptingly between those pretty breasts and stroke the silky skin that beckoned and beguiled him.

  For a reckless moment, he considered finishing what they had started two days ago. If he’d had any idea she’d be this sexually inciting in finery, he’d never have taken the horrible gray garment away. What was he thinking? Was he looking to punish himself in new, excruciating ways?

  Her head snapped up. She stepped forward. The sting of her palm against his cheek instantly cleared the fog of lust. Not exactly the type of greeting he generally received from a woman.

  He caught her wrists just in time to avoid another blow. Clearly, she was back to fully despising him.

  Simon twisted her easily around and held her securely, restricting her fight. “Easy. Allow me to explain…”

  “How dare you lock me in here! You’ve no authority over Gabriella and me!” Her soft bottom squirmed vigorously as she tried to break free of his hold. “I’ll not be governed by you. Let go of me.” She kicked him in the shin. His grunt of pain did little to appease her. She yanked her arm free. Twisting her upper body, she landed another open palm to his cheek.

  He swore. “Enough, Angelica! Calm down.” He turned her around to face him just as she jerked away from him. His boot caught on the leg of an overturned broken chair. They tumbled down, landing on the bed that had been shoved to the middle of the cabin.

  Grasping her wrists, he pressed them against the mattress and eased his body over hers, his weight muting her thrashing. Dieu. She wouldn’t stop writhing, trying to twist out of his grasp, and the friction against his engorged cock was making his blood pump faster. Hotter.

  “You’re a liar! Overbearing, insufferable, and cold-hearted! You’ve no regard for others. You care nothing about the suffering you inflict!”

  “Enough.” Simon squeezed her wrists to punctuate his command, her accusations bothering him more than she could ever know.

  She stopped abruptly, panting, her cheeks pink. “You’ve taken my clothes, my friend, my freedom.” Between ragged breaths, she tossed at him, “You said we would be treated as before, yet you forced me to stay in my chambers and now lock me in this cabin. I won’t stand for this. I won’t let you treat me this way.”

  He saw the hint of emotional pain in her eyes he’d never detected before.

  Damn it. It hadn’t been his intention to cause her such distress.

  He eased himself off her slightly; his body immediately balked. The pressure in his prick was immense, his cock rioting for release.

  Clamoring for her.

  She turned her face away, her mouth all but brushing his thumb, her warm, rapid breaths caressing his hand. “You are proficient at duplicity. I cannot believe I thought, even for a moment, you to be an honorable man.”

  Those words cut deep.
<
br />   He was unable to muster a defense. There was no honor to him. He owned no honorable name. Or position. And now he was forced to put her through this voyage because of his predicament, his choices in life.

  He released her wrists and turned her face to his.

  “Angelica…” He wanted…what? Her body? More? Her understanding? Her trust? He terminated his thoughts, unwilling to delve further. “I’m sorry, chère. You were not supposed to be locked in here. As for the rest, they were done out of necessity.”

  “Necessity? What have you done with Gabriella?”

  “Gabriella is fine. No harm will come to her. She’s been placed on one of the other ships, commanded by Domenico. She went quite willingly. No one forced her. Her destination is the same as ours. You will see her on the island.”

  He saw the mistrust in her eyes, and hated it.

  “Why did you have Marta lie? She told me Gabriella was going to be on this ship.”

  “She did not lie. It was a last-minute change to allow you both as much comfort as possible during the voyage. On the other ship, Gabriella will have her own cabin. Domenico will take care of her.” Domenico had approached him last eve and requested that Gabriella be placed on his ship. Knowing how agreeable Gabriella would find the idea, Simon had consented.

  “Why are we on this voyage? What are you up to?”

  The subject of Fouquet was multilayered, politically sensitive, and not something he wanted to, nor was free to discuss with her, no matter how much or how little she’d overheard. “We’re returning home for some rest. We’ve been at war for some time. The island is a very pleasant place. Perhaps you and Gabriella will decide to make it your home.”

  “The convent is my only home. You had no right to take my clothes!”

  “Angelica, how long could you have continued to wear the same garment? Besides, as the voyage lengthens, the weather will become considerably warmer. You will be more comfortable in lighter clothing.” Remembering how she took a compliment, he refrained from telling her how ravishing she looked in the gown.

  He hoped that by ridding her of the convent clothes, perhaps, in time, she would shed her secrets as well. He still couldn’t believe that not even Gabriella was privy to them.

  “I know you don’t trust me, but I tell you this,” he said. “I ran to your aid that night because I couldn’t stand to see you hurt.” There was the slightest softening in her eyes. It pleased him more than he could have imagined. “If I was willing to do that, then why would I harm you or Gabriella? You are safe. There is nothing to be afraid of. You can tell me who you are and what the secrecy is about.” Merde. He couldn’t let go of his desire to know.

  She stared at him, unsure. He rejoiced at it. At least part of her wanted to trust in him.

  He caressed her cheek. “Tell me,” he urged. “Trust me…”

  Her eyes hardened. She pushed his hand away. “I should trust you when you don’t trust me?”

  He hung his head and sighed. Her ear with that adorable little freckle was so temptingly close to his mouth.

  He lifted his head. “I suppose we are at an impasse until one of us relents.”

  “It will not be me.” She tried to sit up; her face, especially those sweet lips, were now closer to his. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her delicious mouth for two days and nights. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She ran her pink tongue along her lush bottom lip.

  Dieu, that looked too much like an invitation.

  Before he could stop himself, he slipped his fingers into her hair and brushed his mouth against hers. It was a catastrophic error. He knew it. His mind screamed it. The small sampling was his undoing.

  He lowered her back down and swooped in for a deeper kiss, his tongue possessing her mouth on her gasp.

  She grasped his shoulders, but to his delight, didn’t push him away. Instead, she rewarded him with a soft, sensuous moan that made his prick pulse. She tasted so good. He couldn’t get enough, sucking and stroking her tongue, their mouths locking and relocking. His kiss was hot and hungry as he unleashed all the pent-up desire he had for her.

  Already her breaths were erratic, exciting his own. He couldn’t moderate himself. He didn’t care. Not when he was dying to sate himself with his moonlight angel. His world was filled with war and corruption. Beautiful, decent, and brave, she was like air and light in the stifling darkness. And he was helplessly drawn to her.

  Cupping her breast, he grazed his thumb over her hardened nipple, teasing it, pinching it though the cloth of her gown. He had her pressing to him, arching hard, coaxing mews from her with every tender tug. His siren was on a bed, burning for him. For all that was wrong in his life, this felt so right.

  With his mind no longer ruling his body, he plucked at the ribbon on her décolletage, his practiced fingers making quick work of the silk ribbons that laced her bodice, tugging and pulling at the neckline until he’d freed her soft breasts. He took all of two wild heartbeats to take in the sight before him—her breasts just as gorgeous as he’d imagined them to be.

  “Beautiful…” he murmured, driving an arm beneath her back, arching her to him. He sucked a sensitive tip into his greedy mouth. She drove her fingers into his hair, her soft cry sending a delicious hard throb through his cock. His sac was tight and full. His prick never felt so thick and heavy; he was so hard, he felt light-headed. Turning to her other breast, he lavished upon it equal attention. You are mine…

  He grabbed her skirts and began pulling them up, dying to get at her sweet sex. Needing to possess her. Or lose his fucking mind.

  Suddenly, he heard a jarring word escape her mouth. Loud and clear. Simon’s head shot up. He felt as though he’d been torn out of the most incredible dream, his mind numbed by carnal fever, his body hot and tense.

  “No?” He repeated the word, hoping he’d heard wrong.

  She pushed at him. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Stop.”

  Stop. That word was worse.

  His entire body was in revolt, demanding her. He wanted to howl in frustration. Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath into his lungs and released it slowly, trying to master this feral desire, his heart still pounding. She trembled beneath him. Merde. He felt shaky too. He’d never experienced anything so intense. In the heat of the moment had he actually thought she was his? Jésus-Christ, had he said it out loud?

  He sat up. Shaken, she quickly covered herself—concealing her sweet breasts from his view—and tried to scramble off the bed. He caught her arm, keeping her beside him. Thankfully, she didn’t pull away. But she wouldn’t look at him.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. Dieu, this was a novel situation. Normally given carte blanche during sex, no and stop weren’t words he normally heard in bed. Then again, he’d never almost taken a woman who was a virgin.

  He tried to clear his heated mind, trying to find words for the delicate circumstance.

  Angelica’s heart thundered. She couldn’t believe it had happened again. Only this time, she’d let him do so much more. This time, it was even more heated and consuming.

  It terrified her to the core.

  She felt so exposed, not just physically but emotionally.

  How did this man have the power to do this to her? He’d all but completely unraveled her.

  He’d left her breasts feeling heavy, achy, all because of the sensations he’d created, sensations that had streaked downward to her sex, which now felt slick and empty, needing to be filled.

  “Angelica, look at me.” His gentle tone only unnerved her more.

  She couldn’t look at him. Not when she was so rattled. Not when she could feel the sting of tears in her eyes.

  “There is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about. You’re very beautiful. Desirable. We are attracted to each other. These things happen. But you were right to stop.”

  These things happen? Oh yes. Of course. They happened every day. She had a penchant for indulging in carnal activity with every man who broke into h
er convent and whisked her away.

  Briefly, she closed her eyes.

  No one had ever incited these heated cravings before. She didn’t want Simon to affect her like this. She didn’t want him to tell her she was beautiful and desirable. Most of all, she didn’t want him to make her feel as though she were both. She wanted her life back. Safe and familiar. Emptiness and all.

  “Please go,” she said softly, keeping her eyes averted, despising her show of cowardliness.

  He stood. “I won’t lock the door. However, you must stay in your cabin for a short time still. It is for your own safety.” The timbre of his voice told her he was as unsettled as she was.

  He walked out and quietly closed the door behind him.

  She placed her forehead in her palm and squeezed her knees together. The ache between her legs was unbearable. She wasn’t supposed to know any of this. A man’s touch. Passion. Nor did she want to know this sense of longing that lingered in his wake. She didn’t want to think about Simon. Or wonder why he would be so affected. She didn’t want to feel any of the things he made her feel. It only hurt to want for more when more was impossible.

  She wished he’d never shown her just how wrong the image she’d carried with her about this act between a man and woman had been.

  On a cold autumn night, her stepfather had destroyed her world and her future. She thought she’d buried her past and would never have to deal with it again. But a French privateer with seductive blue eyes and a magic touch had entered her life and effortlessly shaken the foundations of her carefully guarded world, more than he could ever know.

  Chapter Nine

  “Good morning, mademoiselle, I’m sorry this is so late. You must be famished,” Suzette apologized cheerfully as she carried in the morning meal. Pretty, blonde, and nineteen, she was friendly and broke the monotony of Angelica’s solitude each time she brought her food.

  Angelica shook her head. “It’s all right. I’m not that hungry.”

  Suzette set her tray down on the table in front of Angelica. “Are you all right, mademoiselle?”

  No, she was not all right. Thoughts of Simon had kept her up most of the night. She’d spent hours trying to vanquish the memory of their amorous encounter.