Free Surrender by Heather Graham Page A

around the desk. She felt thebrandy burn through her, consumed far too quickly on an empty stomach.
    He refilled the glass. She assumed it was for her and was about to protest, but … it wasn’t for her. He tossed down the amber liquor himself. Barefoot and shirtless, dark hair dripping on his shoulders, he carried an air of authority.
    “You know, you may leave now,” she informed him. “I am safely returned,” she said, finding a certain sense of security by remaining on her side of the desk.
    He ignored her comment. “You know, Miss Magee, I may be a Rebel, but I don’t lie, and I warned you that you were encountering a ship full of deserters.”
    She stiffened, standing very straight, seeking dignity—which was just a bit difficult when her clothing was shredded once again.
    He had poured more brandy—for her or him, she didn’t know. She snatched up the glass, swallowed the contents whole, and set the glass back down. “McKenzie,” she said coolly, “may I remind you, I was nearly at the ship before you stated that she was manned by deserters.”
    He ignored the glass then. Staring at her, he took a long swig of the brandy right out of the bottle.
    “Miss Magee, may I remind
you
, you were still quite willing to cry out, even once I had come upon you. And deserters or good loyal Yanks—they would have happily shot me in the water. Nice thanks after my gallant rescue.”
    She did her best to stare at him with cool dispassion. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so determined on the rescue.”
    He extended the bottle. She accepted it, and swigged brandy from it just as he had done. He took it back, swallowed deeply, slammed it firmly down on the desk.
    “Perhaps,” he told her, “I shouldn’t have bothered with an attempt at rescue. I should have left you to the wolves. Except that I am responsible for your welfare.”
    “You’re responsible for my welfare! Now, that, sir, is quite amusing.”
    “Is it?” He took steps around the desk, facing her then just to the side of it. Too close. Far too close.
    Her head was spinning.
    “Amusing?” he inquired. “I don’t see it as so. Not if I’m to hang for whatever ill befalls you.”
    She shivered suddenly, despite the deceptive warmth of the liquor burning through her. The room was tilting. She wondered if they had set sail again.
    “Cold?” he inquired politely, yet she imagined he damned well thought she should be freezing, that she definitely deserved to suffer for her folly.
    “Cold, yes. I am soaked. Perhaps, if you would be so good as to leave a prisoner at peace, I could change.”
    “Oh, could you? Change—into what?” he inquired flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.
    Into what, indeed? It wasn’t as if she had packed for this trip. Even the tatters she now wore were borrowed.
    “Well, surely—”
    “Surely, yes, we should find something for you! You know, Miss Magee, there is a war on. We are plagued by endless shortages, and here you are, plunging time after time into the sea, ruining perfectly good clothing. Now, if you can’t learn to take care of your things, I’m afraid you’re simply going to have to go without in the future.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “My funds are limited. Money is dear to the Rebels, and all goes to pay for the war effort. New clothing for you can hardly be considered a necessity to the war department.”
    “You may rest assured, McKenzie, that I would not accept so much as a half-cent from you—or your war department.”
    “Then, what shall you do?”
    He said the words with an amused certainty that she would have to throw herself upon his mercy. Her blood seemed to simmer in her veins. In a moment of sheer lunacy and anger, she decided to call his bluff.
    She said as lightly as she could manage, “The weather is pleasant enough. If I’m to go about naked, I shall go naked. It will be interesting to see, however, what disciplinary problem it creates among your men. I’m quite certain, though,