He could never touch her again. He had almost made a horrible mistake, and Andrew had saved him. Susan and he had promised their lives to each other, and he had made love to her the night before he left. He hadn’t intended to, but the worry for his brother had led him to drink. A bit too much. After Andrew had departed to attend to an urgent matter concerning the trip set for the next day that he was unable to in his condition, Susan had patiently listened to his drunken mumblings. Some of the time, he was bitter and angry about his brother’s actions and at others, terrified he would never see him alive again. That he would fail another brother. When he quieted, Susan had helped him to bed.
Morgan discovered her draped over him the next morning, naked. In her quiet, demure manner, she informed him the room was hers, and she had given him her virginity. He didn’t remember making love to her, although he would never tell her, but he couldn’t recall much of his actions that night. If she said it happened, it had.
Now he feared his seed had taken root, and the babe would make its way into this world before he returned and they could marry. He should have made her his wife that morning, but his ship was due to sail on the morning tide, and he barely made it as it was. All he selfishly thought of was his brother.
The sooner this mission was over, the better. Arianna’s seductive body and free-spirited, impulsive nature lured him from his promise and vow to Susan and his mother, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. He would never treat his mother the way his father had, never break a promise to her, especially one made to her on her deathbed, and his honor prevented him from betraying Susan.
With his manhood shrunken to its normal size, he made his way on deck into the sunshine and the familiar hustle and bustle. He breathed deeply, and the tension and need eased.
He should move into Andrew’s cabin away from temptation. The idea gained merit until he remembered Arianna had thrown away the key. He would not leave her unprotected in his cabin at night. A seaman’s senses could abandon him when on the ocean without female companionship. He had proven that fact. And he didn’t like this personal matter that existed between her and Briggs.
He spotted his first mate and made his way to him. “You needed to speak with me?”
“The issue has resolved itself.” Andrew’s quiet manner was much like his sister’s.
Morgan narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized his friend. “It resolved itself very fast.”
“It seemed to.”
Had Andrew known what was about to happen and knocked on the door to prevent it? “Does this matter have anything to do with our stowaway?” he asked in a wary voice.
“I saw your face when you ordered her below. I wanted to make sure she was well. You have been hard on her.”
Hard was what she made him. “Not that it is your business, but don’t you think she deserves it?”
Andrew always rooted for the underdog. He was the child who brought home the wounded bird and nursed it back to health. And though he insisted he would never marry, he was protective of women.
Andrew’s face hardened from a friend to a member of his crew. “You are the captain and make the decisions, but as first mate, I thought the welfare of the men was my business. And no, I don’t think she deserves it. She can be troublesome, but she has been through a lot already. I have business to attend to.” He pivoted on his heel and left.
“Bloody hell!”
****
Arianna didn’t know the first thing about cooking. At home, Mrs. Lovell prepared the meals, and she had never helped in that aspect when she’d sailed with her papa. She would rather be in the rigging, but she was willing to try anything, especially if it got her out from under Morgan’s watchful eye. Captain Danvers’s watchful eye. After what had happened between them, she had a hard time thinking of him as Captain Danvers, even though she needed to keep her distance and the formality between them.
Entering the galley, she discovered a short, thin, bald man in his forties with a badly deformed leg, hobbling from one area to the next at a frantic pace. “Captain Danvers ordered me to help you.”
The cook stopped short, looked her up and down, and then continued his bustling. “Don’t need no help.”
“Captain Danvers said—”
“Don’t need no help. Been workin’ alone for four years. I like it that way.”
Now what was she to do? She couldn’t return to Morgan, Captain Danvers, and complain this man didn’t want her assistance. Who wouldn’t desire an extra pair of hands when feeding a large crew? Her gaze strayed to his leg. Was he afraid she’d take his place or find him lacking? “I don’t know anything about cooking. I thought you could teach me.”
He assessed her with a sharp stare. “You are a woman, and you don’t know nothin’ about cooking?”
She shrugged. “I was hoping you could show me how, Mr.…”
“Hooper.”
“Mr. Hooper.”
“No, just Hooper.” He threw a lump of bread dough on a large wooden table in the middle of the room with a dull plop. “Knead that.” He pointed to the mass and then turned away, ignoring her while he banged various pots and pans.
This should be easy enough. She sank her hands into the gooey, warm mess a few times.
“No, not like that. Put some power behind it. Give it a few whacks and punches and dig your fingers into it.”
So she did. Releasing her frustrations, fears, and doubts on the innocent dough until her hands ached.
“Hooper, how long have you known Captain Danvers?”
“For a long time. Fought with him when he was a privateer in the war.”
Much of his crew seemed to have sailed with him before. She glanced at his leg. “Is that how you were injured?”
He halted and swiped his arm across his forehead. “Yup. Any other cap’n would have dismissed me as useless, but not Captain Danvers. He gave me a job workin’ on his merchant ships. And when he asked me to help him rescue his brother, I readily agreed. I would do anythin’ to help that man.”
Her heart softened a tiny bit toward Morgan. He had told her he was concerned about the welfare of his crew, and the men she talked to confirmed it. But he was still commanding and domineering.
Wasn’t that what a captain was supposed to be?
“That should be enough.”
She sighed in relief. “Good. My fingers were about to fall off.” She shook them.
Hooper split the dough into thirds and plopped each one into a pan.
“What about his brother? How did he get captured?”
“Put these in the oven.” Hooper slid the pans toward her. “Some fiend has been raidin’ the ships of the Danvers’s shippin’ line, and his brother happened to be on one that was captured. It is said he went willingly with them.” He leaned against the scarred table. “Harry has always been a little headstrong. He found his girlfriend, the third one he swore he would make his wife—he has a new one every month—in the arms of another man before he decided she was not for him. He was devastated. Women, bah, all they are is trouble.” He whirled from her and picked up a sack of potatoes as if he hadn’t insulted her.
He kept her busy the rest of the day, explaining what needed to be accomplished and how to do it. She enjoyed learning this new talent from the gruff but good man. Arianna also discovered Captain Danvers and his officers ate the same fare as the crew, which was contrary to most ships.
“Y’er not so bad,” Hooper told her before he dismissed her. And then he added, “For a woman.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
When she exited the galley, the sun had set. She was exhausted, but she did not want to return to the stuffy cabin where Morgan might be working. Arianna wanted no repeat of this morning. She was not sure she could resist him if his mouth and hands caressed and tempted her again. And yet, he may lurk on the deck.
Then she remembered she had never finished verifying the cargo. She wouldn’t run into him in the hold, and she still wanted to vindicate herself for stowing away on this ship instead of her brother’s.
Morgan hadn’t allowed her to grab the cargo manifest when he dismissed her from below, so it might still be there. As she slipped quietly through the ship, she snatched a lantern and then descended into the dark, cold hold crowded with crates and barrels closely packed together and stacked one on top of the other. Throwing off the shiver that ran through her, she found the pages on a crate where she had left them. She flipped to the last page she and Mark had completed and set to work again. Her skirt curtailed her movements, but she feared to alter it as she had before in case Captain Danvers discovered her. He always showed up when she didn’t expect him. She had no idea what his reaction would be, and she didn’t want to find out. The image of a whip flashed before her eyes, and she trembled.
Immersed in her work, she didn’t hear him until he grabbed her arm in a brutal grasp and spun her around. Morgan had caught her where she didn’t belong, again. She struggled to concoct a believable story. But when Arianna focused on the face before her, terror swept through her veins.
“Briggs.”
“Now you will pay for what you did to me.”
She fought to wrench her arm from his firm grip. “I did nothing. My papa punished you for what you did to the boy. You almost killed him.”
“And it is time I punished you for telling him it was me.”
He smashed her back against the crates with so much force she thought her spine would break into a million pieces. Her breath flew from her lungs. Before she could refill them, his mouth crashed down on hers, cutting off her air. Arianna inhaled desperately through her nose. His putrid stench revolted and disgusted her. Bile rose in her throat.
An unyielding tongue thrust into her mouth. A hand latched on to her breast and squeezed hard. His heavy body pinned her. Her mind whirled in turmoil. Fear stabbed her. Arianna did the only thing she could. She sank her teeth into the softness of his pillaging tongue.
He jerked his mouth away. “You bitch.” His hand snapped back and then whipped forward, striking her across one cheek.
Bright lights danced before her eyes.
He slapped the other cheek even harder.
Sickening pain exploded in her head. Tears clouded her eyes.
He seized her chin between his finger and thumb and dragged her face up to his. “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he growled.
Hooking his beefy fingers into the top of her bodice, he yanked, splitting the fabric in two. Her breasts spilled out, completely exposed to him. He then ripped off the rest of her top.
She attempted to run, but he grabbed her shoulder and thrust her back against the crates. She squirmed, twisted, kicked, and scratched, struggling to free herself all to no avail. His powerful forearm across her collarbone held her in place as his teeth and lips sucked and bit her nipples. Pain, horror, and desperation tore through her. She caught her bleeding lip between her teeth and closed her eyes, battling to forgo giving him the satisfaction of a response, but the excruciating agony increased until she cried out.
And then she remembered her brothers telling her of the most vulnerable spot on a man and where to aim. She brought her knee up sharply. Briggs turned at the last minute, and Arianna caught him in the thigh instead of where she intended.
“Stop.” He punched her stomach, and she collapsed into herself. Her legs buckled. She would have fallen if he wasn’t pressed against her.
“Not so high and mighty now, are you?”
He shoved a hand between her legs and grabbed her crotch over her skirt, his fingers like cold steel. She tried to clench her legs together and felt the scabbard she had tied to her thigh.
“I’ll show you what it means to open your mouth. In fact, I’m going to give you somethin’ to stick in it, so you’ll remember me every time you butt into affairs that don’t concern you.”
His hands digging into her shoulders, he forced her to her knees before him. Burrowing his fingers in her hair, he jerked her head back until she thought her neck would snap. His other hand caressed the long exposed column as he towered over her like a conqueror. “So beautiful and yet, I could break it in two with my bare hands.”
Staring into his evil face, she searched beneath her skirts with a trembling hand, seeking the knife. She felt the neckcloth tied around her leg and then the weapon. She closed her slick hand over the hilt of the knife. Salvation. She prayed.
He fumbled with the opening on the front of his pants with one hand while the other gripped her hair, preventing her escape. His hard penis sprang free. Her eyes widened in fear, and her hand tightened around the knife. Could she stab a man?
“Have you ever had one this big? No? Well, you will have a treat today.” He dragged her head forward until his manhood pushed against her lips pressed firmly together.
He meant to put in it in her mouth? Dizziness swamped her.
His beefy hand surrounded her bruised jaw, and his powerful fingers squeezed her swollen cheeks. Agony lashed her. A scream built within.
“Open your mouth,” he growled.
Yes, she could stab a man. She whipped her hand out from under her skirts and plunged the knife into his leg. He howled. She pulled it out and warm blood spurted. He released her.