Free Samantha James by Gabriels Bride Page B

have—”
    He shook his head. “You’ve done nothing to be sorry for, Yank. From the look of you, you’ve missed too many meals already.” He paused, then addedsoftly, “And I’d far rather see you eat your fill than see good food wasted.” He did not mention that her enjoyment of the meal made him feel a trifle guilty for something he had always taken for granted.
    When she flushed and clasped her hands in her lap, he allowed the merest of smiles to graze his mouth. “Only I must say, I am heartily glad you’ve not proven to be a poor sailor.”
    “Other than hunger, my stomach has not troubled me at all.” Her smile was rather tremulous, but it served to dissolve some of her tension. Perhaps, she decided cautiously, he could be kind after all.
    He would have refilled her wine glass, but she declined with a quick shake of her head. He studied her, then said suddenly, “I fear I must impose a few rules, Yank. There are many men on this ship, and as you are surely aware, sometimes seamen can be a rough lot. Bear in mind that it’s not safe for you to be wandering about the decks alone.”
    Cassie thought of the dark and depthless seas that surrounded them. He need not worry on that score, she decided, barely suppressing a shiver of dread.
    Ian entered and briskly cleared the remains of their meal. The earl rose and seated himself behind his desk. As he uncurled a rolled-up chart and spread it across the wide surface, Cassie retreated to the chair beside the potbellied stove.
    The minutes passed. He seemed oblivious to her presence, engrossed in his papers, but Cassie did not mind. She could not help the way her eyes strayed to him again and again.
    He had discarded his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, baring tanned muscular forearms coated with a liberal covering of dark, silky-looking hair. The memory of being held tight in his arms as he carried her up the gangplank rose swiftly in her mind. They had been surprisingly strong and hard, those arms. Clearly he did not live a life of such ease as she had thought. His fingers were lean and brown, the nails square and clean. Wincing, she glanced at the rough, dry skin of her hands, then hid them in her skirts. Tucking her feet beneath her, she burrowed more deeply into the chair, as if to make herself disappear.
    It wasn’t long before her restless sleep the previous night claimed its due. She soon dozed. The next thing she was aware of was a strong hand shaking her awake. Eyes wide, she stared into the darkly handsome face of her husband.
    He towered over her. “You’re exhausted, Yank. I suggest you retire for the night.”
    Cassie sat up slowly, her mind still fuzzy. The remnants of sleep lent a strange huskiness to her voice. “Where am I to sleep?”
    A mocking brow arose. “It should take no great surfeit of intelligence to figure out where, Yank—especially considering there is but one bunk in this cabin.”
    It was the coolness of his tone, far more than his words, which left Cassie in no doubt she’d just been insulted. Oh, but he was horrid—and to think she’d been foolish enough to believe he possessed even a shred of kindness!
    Pierced by an angry hurt, her chin came up. She dropped her legs to the floor. “I’ve no wish to sleep in my gown,” she said stiffly. “And I have no intention of removing it before you.”
    “What! Never say you expect me to leave. I think you forget this is my cabin, and just so there is no misunderstanding between us…I refuse to sleep on the floor during this voyage while you take my bunk. It’s big enough for the both of us.”
    Cassie gasped. Why, the wretch—and to think he called himself a gentleman! “You led me to believe you had no desire to lie with me!”
    He gave her a long, slow look. “Yank,” he said in clipped, icy tones. “I see no need to repeat myself yet again, but I will. No one enjoys the pleasures of the flesh more than I. But you are not such a temptress, and I am not such a