arching her body against his.
Brandon savored the honey taste of her lips and the intoxicating nearness of her body and all logical thinking fled his mind. His arms went around her and held her tightly as he enjoyed the unexpected warmth of her response. His body demanded he do more with her. She was too tempting, this slight wisp of a girl. Her lips were too warm, her body too desirable. It was becoming extremely difficult to think of leaving her. Damned if it wasn't.
With an effort he set her from him.
"I will be hard put to go anywhere if you kiss me like that," he said huskily.
Heather's face pinkened. The kiss had held some surprises for her, too, for she had not found it such a loathsome task.
"And now I fear my departure will be delayed after all. These tight breeches leave nothing to the imagination," he grinned.
Her eyes traveled downward innocently to his pants. She was instantly sorry. Her face flooded with color and she jerked around with a moan, mortified.
Brandon chuckled behind her and then with a pensive sigh, turned to the business of dressing, mumbling wistfully, "Had I but the time, madam—"
Seething, Heather began stacking dirty dishes at the table, thinking many ill thoughts of the man behind her. She decided he was more than detestable.
Brandon was giving a last adjustment to his stock when Heather turned to him again, her temper somewhat abated. For all the hatred she felt for him, she could not deny what a fine specimen of a man he was. His garments were immaculate and well chosen, in the height of fashion, and they fit his tall, broad shouldered frame superbly. His breeches were tailored so well they clung nearly as tightly as his skin. They did nothing to disguise the bulge of his manhood.
"He's so handsome he probably has to fight the women off," she thought bitterly.
He came forward and, in a casual but possessive and intimate manner, pressed a light kiss upon her lips and gave her buttock a fond pat.
"I'll be back soon, sweet," he smiled.
Heather could hardly hold her tongue, wanting to scream at him in rage. She watched him leave, all too confident of himself for her state of mind, and then heard the click of the lock on the door. With frustrated anger rising in her veins, she whipped her arm across the table and sent the stacked dishes flying.
Chapter 2
Heather wasted no time in her determination to flee the ship. If Captain Birmingham returned before she left, her opportunity would be greatly diminished. She tried to think of ways George could be tricked and wondered if he could be bribed with money? But what would she use for that scarce item? Her beige gown was the only thing of value she possessed and she pondered whether it would be sufficient temptation to bring him over to her side. Then she thought of the man who had used her body for his pleasure and her ideas of bribery died away. The servant would either be too loyal to that pompous cad of a sea captain or too afraid of him to endanger himself with any temptation of bribery. No, that would not do at all. She'd have to think of something better.
Many plans flickered through her mind, but none would take finite shape. She could not bribe him, so she would have to use force. But what could a mere girl do against a man who was without a doubt much stronger than she? His stringy muscles could easily keep her detained for his captain.
She began searching the cabin for anything that would help persuade the man to hand over the keys to the cabin door, jerking open the desk drawers, frantically searching through papers and books, even in Brandon's sea chest. She found only a bag of coins. Wearily she sank into the chair behind the desk. Her eyes wandered about the cabin, hunting through each corner and shadow of the room.
"He must have some weapon here," she bit off, disgruntled because time was against her.
Her eyes fell on the locker, and leaping