Free Silver Storm (The Raveneau Novels #1) by Cynthia Wright Page A

the leather wing chair, garbed in
a gray, soft-looking dressing gown. Devon strained her eye; it
appeared that Raveneau wore nothing beneath his robe. He was
holding a fresh snifter of cognac, his tanned, handsome legs
stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Abruptly he turned his
head and stared hard at Devon; she squeezed the eye closed.
    "Eh bien. Are you awake?" Raveneau
crossed the cabin and leaned over her. "Damn, what did Jackson say
her name is?" he muttered. "Wake up, petite chatte."
    Across the cabin, someone coughed. "Excuse
me, Captain."
    "Come in, Mr. Lane. Have you heard what has
happened?"
    "Bits and pieces, sir."
    Devon heard Raveneau walk toward the other
voice, and reopened her eye a fraction. Mr. Lane must be the first
officer, she guessed. Raveneau had paused to light a cheroot, and
now he paced back and forth across the cabin, glancing her way so
frequently that Devon decided to be safe and close her eyes
completely.
    "That damned Jackson reappeared a few hours
ago and, like a fool, I let him come aboard. After I returned to my
cabin, he apparently sneaked this female on—had her in the
crew's quarters, no less, wearing pants and a red cap! Told me she
was a surgeon's mate!" His voice grew more harsh with each
sentence. "Minter is ill, so I went over to the crew's quarters' to
recruit someone to take his place. This little hooligan prepared my
bath! No wonder it took so long!"
    Devon swallowed a bubble of laughter.
    "Jackson tells me he had confided this plot
only to the men on watch, so that they would help him get her on
board. That drooling pup Greenbriar came below and waylaid the girl
as she passed the galley."
    "Was that the scream I heard?" Lane inquired
expressionlessly, as though they were discussing wind
directions.
    "Yes. She had just left here. I had been
suspicious about her... but I'll admit I didn't guess she was
actually a girl. When I saw the new 'surgeon's mate' with
Greenbriar, I thought we had a different sort of problem."
    Raveneau stopped next to Lane, and now they
lowered their voices so that Devon could only make out snatches of
their conversation.
    After a minute or two Mr. Lane said in a
clear, stiff voice, "As you wish, sir."
    Devon heard him leave. The silence that
followed made her uncomfortable. There was not a sigh or a scrape
or a step. Had they both gone? She counted to one hundred. Nothing
but the sound of water sloshing against the Black Eagle's hull. Cautiously, Devon opened one eye a fraction. There was no
sign of him. She decided to shift positions. With a dramatic moan,
she stretched and rolled slowly onto her side. Another peek from
this new angle. He was not in the leather chair or at the desk or
table. He must have gone out with Lane, his bare feet making no
sound.
    The corner of her mouth had been itching
torturously for minutes, and now she lifted a hand to scratch it.
Lean fingers appeared out of nowhere to grasp her own.
    "How long have you been awake?" Raveneau
demanded.
    Devon craned her neck and found him towering
over her head, his gray eyes steely. She scrambled to her knees,
ready to do verbal battle, and was horrified to see her torn shirt
come open, exposing impudent breasts. Blushing, she pulled it
together and retorted, "I was only hoping to avoid being put
ashore!"
    "I suppose you never fainted at all."
    "That is not so!"
    "Sit down. You look ridiculous."
    "How dare you say that? You look quite
ridiculous yourself with your legs showing!"
    Raveneau blinked as though unable to believe
his ears; then the barest suggestion of a smile bent one side of
his mouth. "You are the first female who has ever mocked my legs.
In fact—"
    "Oh, yes, Sir Privateer, no doubt all women
praise you endlessly, but not, I hope, after you have described
them as ridiculous!"
    He perched on the edge of his table, handsome
calves dangling, and smoked for a moment in silence. Devon sat, and
drew the linen sheet and silk comforter up to cover as much of her
body as possible.