“You are being unfair. Of course, I never became acquainted with the true you.” She studied him as he lounged against the door, her eyes wary. “Forget it. Andrew offered to loan me what I need.” She headed toward him, and when Morgan didn’t move, she stood toe to toe with him, all five feet of her. “Please move.”
“You are going nowhere.”
Her sky-blue eyes rounded. “What?”
“As a stowaway, I can have you thrown in jail.”
She stepped back and huffed with indignation. “You wouldn’t.”
Arianna knew him too well. He brushed a crease from his pants. “I might.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Let me go.”
“I can’t do that. Since you set foot on this ship, you are under my protection.” Morgan tugged on the sleeves of his shirt.
“No, I am not. I can take care of myself.” Her chest heaved with her words and growing agitation.
“Sorry, I take my duties seriously. You will stay at my house until I can escort you to England.”
“That could take weeks,” she screeched.
He paused and nodded. “It may.”
Why was he doing this to himself? He was mad. It would be torture to see her every day and not be able to touch her.
He deserved the agony.
Should Arianna have to suffer along with him? No, but it couldn’t be helped. She should have never hid on his ship like an impulsive, spoiled child. He would make it up to her someway.
She broke into his inner musings. “Andrew offered to take me back. I’ll go with him.” Her voice sounded breathless as if she had run miles.
So that was what they had spoken about. He should have known. But hadn’t he pushed them together? Wanted them to marry? Now, he couldn’t bear to think of her in Andrew’s arms, in Andrew’s bed. He shook his head to dispel the horrible image. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. She drove him crazy.
“My ship, my rules.”
“You can’t do this.” Her gaze spun about the room, seeking a way out.
“I can do whatever I want to a stowaway.”
“I really wasn’t a stowaway. It was all a big mistake.” She frantically searched for a solution.
“We have already had that discussion. I need you to wait here while I provide for transportation.”
“You can’t do this,” she repeated.
He sighed. “Would you rather I turn you over to the authorities?”
She didn’t answer as she debated which alternative to choose.
His heart raced. Did she hate him so much she’d rather go to jail? He erased his emotions from his face as if he didn’t care which decision she came to.
“No.” She sighed in defeat.
He didn’t trust her. She was much too smart and sneaky. He gestured to her with a flick of his fingers. “Come here.”
She stared at him with wary eyes. “No.”
“Are we going to have to do this the hard way?” He started toward her.
“Do what?” Her quivering voice rose. She swallowed.
He picked up a length of rope that lay on the table.
Arianna’s eyes rounded as her gaze latched on his hand and what he held in it. “What are you going to do?” Her voice squeaked.
“I want to make sure you are here when I return. You are not known for following orders.”
She collected herself, drew her body up, and stared into his eyes. “You are not tying me up with that rope.”
“Sorry. But I have to.” He was going to hate himself later.
She retreated around the desk, placing the furniture between them. Her gaze raced to the door.
“Forget it. You would never make it.”
“Morgan, why are you doing this?”
“I’ve already given you my reason. Now come here.”
“No.” Arianna watched his every move.
Arianna had engaged his natural ability to laugh and feel, but he could still cloak his emotions and plans when he wanted to. He had years of experience. She would not spy his next move, no matter how hard she tried.
He lunged across the desk and captured her wrists.
She squealed and jerked back. “Get your hands off me,” she screamed, digging in her heels and pulling with all the power she possessed.
She may be small, but she was strong. He was stronger. He held both her wrists together in one hand, and while she struggled and squirmed, he bent over the desk and wound the rope around them.
“I’ll never forgive you for this.”
“I know,” he muttered quietly. He would never forgive himself. Morgan dragged her to his berth, pushed her onto it, and tied the other end to the bed leg.
Just in time.
As soon as she unscrambled herself, she vaulted up and lashed out at him with kicking feet. “You’ll regret this.”
He already did. Morgan jumped back beyond her reach. “I realize that, love.”
With her blonde hair tumbled about her head, her red face filled with anger, her blue eyes shooting sparks of fire and her white teeth clenched in rage, she never looked more beautiful. But she would never be his. If only he lived in the days of the Vikings and he had captured her to be his slave. Then she could never leave. No, he wanted her as an equal. Wanted not just her body, but her soul and her love.
Unfortunately, now that could never be. But he could save her from herself.
He opened the door. “I’ll be back, shortly.”
“I hate you!” she cried.
Short, firm words packed with meaning that destroyed him. He faltered for a moment and then strode from the room.
****
Arianna screamed as she yanked at the bindings. How dare he tie her up like a wild animal. She tugged and pulled mindlessly until her fury diminished and reasonable thought once again took its place. She plopped onto the berth in defeat. He thought he could take charge of everyone’s life. That those within his realm had to obey his commands. Well, she would not.
If only she had a knife.
To cut the rope. Or to kill him.
Twisting her head from one side to the other, she scanned the room. There had to be something she could use to escape. She jumped up and started toward the desk. The rope jerked her back.
The drawers beneath his berth. She could reach those, and she had found a knife there before. Was there another? She fell to her knees, and with her tied hands, she began dumping his clothes onto the floor. He didn’t like his possessions disturbed. Evil laughter spilled from her mouth. Wait until he spied her handiwork.
The drawer completely emptied and no knife discovered, her hopes tumbled down a steep incline, and she collapsed onto her haunches. The knot securing her to the bed leg taunted her. It was right before her eyes. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She began tearing at it with her fingers, but even though she knew knots, with her hands restrained as they were, she hardly made any progress.
The door swung open and the arrogant, vile beast stood there. He stiffened and his eyes darkened as he took in the condition of the room. For a few satisfying minutes, he refrained from speaking.
She faced him squarely. Not one ounce of guilt that she had attempted to escape showed on her body. Because she didn’t feel any.
“Time to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are.”
He stalked toward her, and she scampered back, scattering his clothes with her feet, but she was on a short leash.
He captured her shoulders. “Don’t move.”
Standing a better chance of defending herself with her hands free, she obeyed.
He frowned as he worked on her bindings. “You injured yourself. Why couldn’t you sit quietly until I returned?”
“Why did you have to tie me?” Her red wrists, chafed from the rope, stung.
Morgan glared at her. “I’ll rub a healing salve on them after you are settled at the house.”
“Are you going to imprison me there also?”
“Will I have to?”
She narrowed her eyes. Again, he answered her question with a question of his own. “I will not stay with you.”
“Then, you have your answer.” The rope dropped to the floor. Circling her upper arm, he helped her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
She jerked away from him.
“Are you going to walk off this ship with me quietly or will it be over my shoulder kicking and screaming?”
As much as she hated this situation, she would endure it with dignity. She wouldn’t allow him to humiliate her further. She stalked past him and up onto the deck. Dark, gray clouds that matched her mood hovered overhead. She would miss this ship and the friends she had made. She wished she could say good-bye to them, but Morgan would never allow it. She stomped down the plank bouncing beneath her feet with Morgan following close behind. When she reached the end, his hand clamped around her upper arm again. She struggled to dislodge it with no success. Apparently, he didn’t trust her. Wise man.
“This way.”
He escorted her around crates and barrels and men of various descriptions, hurrying back and forth, straining under weight or calling to each other. She breathed deeply of the familiar smells of fish, salty ocean water, and unwashed bodies.
A carriage awaited them at the end of the dock. Still holding her arm, he opened the door and urged her inside the darkened interior.
“Morgan, can I ride with you to the house?” a voice asked.
“Get in.”
Harry entered. He smiled as he sat on the seat opposite her. “What are you doing here? Is Morgan dropping you off at a suitable lodging?”
“I guess you could say that.” At least she wouldn’t be alone with Morgan.
The carriage rocked as the beast heaved himself in and plunked down beside her. She scooted into the corner as far as she could go. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the fiend.
“She is staying with us until I can escort her to England.”
“That is a superb idea. I was worried about her alone in Boston.”
“Why is it every man thinks I need protection? I can take care of myself.”
“Arianna isn’t happy with my plan, as you can plainly see.” Morgan smiled at her.
If she had a knife right now, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it. She plunked her arms over her chest and stared out the window. Men.
Morgan and Harry conversed back and forth as they traveled down cobblestone streets lined with three-story brick mansions roofed with slate. They glanced her way on occasion, but she ignored them. Men and women strolled down shaded brick sidewalks as she memorized the path they took. When the opportunity arose, she would escape Morgan’s clutches.
Right outside the city, the carriage turned down a long drive bordered by elm trees.
“It feels good to be back. I wasn’t sure I would ever see Boston again,” Harry said as they stopped before a two-story brick mansion with a bow front and a wing on either side.
Morgan’s brows rose. “I thought you had the situation in hand.”
“I did. But so many things could go wrong.” Harry turned to Arianna. “I hope you like it here, even though it isn’t your choice.”
“I won’t be staying long enough to decide one way or the other.” She faced Morgan. “Is this my prison?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that.”
“Isn’t that what it is?”
He stared into her eyes. “No.”
She fell deep inside, into his soul and touched the Morgan she knew and loved.
“Can’t you accept I am doing this for your own good because I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Tears blossomed. “You have already hurt me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Morgan’s heart clenched. “Not intentionally.” This feeling of despair would follow him the rest of his life. He wanted to say so much more but no words could change the situation and make it right. He descended from the carriage, let down the step, and held out his hand.
She ignored it and alighted on her own. Harry followed with a shrug, sympathy shadowing his eyes.
As they headed toward the house, the door opened and Ann, Elizabeth, and Sarah exploded into the yard as if shot from a cannon with his aunt walking behind them. “Morgan. Harry.”
Arianna jumped back as the trio catapulted into Harry’s and his arms. He hugged each one in turn, relieved they were well.
“Morgan, you found Harry.”
“What took so long?”
“Harry, what did the pirates do to you?”
They all talked at once, their voices pitched high in delight and excitement.
“We will tell you everything later,” he said, his tone sterner than he would have liked. As much as he could tell three young girls. Actually, they were almost women.
He turned toward his Aunt Margaret. With her dark brown eyes and hair, she looked like his mother, who was her older sister. “I trust there were no problems while I was gone.”
Aunt Margaret hugged him and Harry. “None at all. My nieces behaved perfectly.”
“That is hard to believe.”
His sisters glared at him.