Free Lord of Temptation by Lorraine Heath Page B

feasting on the sight of Anne. He considered revealing his musings out loud but he suspected she would see it as false flattery. If he was learning anything at all about her it was that she seemed unaware of her allure. She was modest in the extreme and that made her so much more captivating.
    The only thing that ruined the tableaux was the rapid clicking of knitting needles as her blasted maid sat in a corner keeping watch over her mistress.
    “I’m quite impressed with the fare,” Anne said after taking a small bite of the glazed chicken. “I’d not expected such fine accommodations.”
    “I spend a good deal of time away from ports. A first-rate cook was on the top of my must-acquire list when I gained my own ship.”
    “Your crew is exceedingly polite. I’d feared they might be a bit rough.”
    “They can be when the situation warrants.” He studied her over his wineglass, wondering where she was going with this. “I have the luxury of determining who I hire. I’m quite particular. If I’m going to be in the company of a man for months at a time, I want to at least like him.”
    “You seem rather educated.”
    “My father insisted.” He swirled his wine, and within the vortex he could almost see what his life might have been if his uncle hadn’t killed Tristan’s father. “I had a tutor for the longest. Then when I was fourteen I went to sea.”
    She leaned forward. “Why?”
    “Why does any young man go to sea? For adventure.” Although in his case, it was to get beyond his uncle’s grasp.
    “From what I can gather, you certainly found it. The lad, Mouse, told me that you saved him from being eaten by sharks.”
    Tristan downed his wine and poured himself some more. “You know that boy didn’t talk for weeks after we brought him aboard. Now he’s a regular magpie.”
    “So what he said is true?”
    Her brow was furrowed, her concern evident. He’d planned to use dinner to charm her into his arms, not discuss the brutal aspects of his life. “We were off the coast of a small island in the Pacific. Because he was born imperfect, he was thought to have no value. We were leaving the island, when we spotted them hunting for sharks. I couldn’t very well sail away without doing something.”
    “You told me that you found him in the hold. I assumed he was a stowaway. You must have known what I thought.”
    He shrugged. “We did find him in the hold, on numerous occasions. He was afraid, so he’d hide down there.”
    “He also told me that you blew up the boat that he’d been on. Have you killed many men?”
    “None that didn’t deserve it.”
    “You lead a rather brutal life.”
    “It’s not as brutal as it once was.”
    She released a scoff that might have been a laugh. “The first night I met you I thought you were a blackguard. Now I’m not so sure.”
    The tempo of the knitting needles was increasing in rhythm. Her maid was obviously not at all pleased with that revelation. Maybe he should see if Peterson or Jenkins had an interest in the woman. It would be nice not to have her constantly hovering. “I explained in the beginning, Princess, that I would never be what you expected.”
    She set aside her cutlery. “Why do you call me that?”
    “Because when you first walked into that smoke-filled haze of a tavern, I thought you looked like a princess from a fairy tale.”
    This time there was no mistaking her laughter or amusement. “Not difficult to accomplish considering the clientele.”
    Her cheeks flushed, and he wondered if she might be embarrassed that she was enjoying his company. They spoke of books. She preferred those with a romantic bent to them. When he sneered at the very idea, she challenged him to give Jane Austen a try and had her maid fetch Pride and Prejudice from the trunk.
    She told him of growing up with four brothers, of being spoiled, of being thought to be the very princess that he mocked her as being. Sheltered, protected.
    “Perhaps that’s the reason