“That would account for his speech to an extent.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, squatting down and looking under the table and then under the chair.
James swallowed and willed his libido to calm though he didn’t stop watching her. “He speaks very well for a servant or even a pirate.”
Daniella laughed and turned to him, gloriously naked and unashamed. James held the shirt out to her on two fingers. When she got close, she ignored it and put her arms around his neck, breasts pressed to his chest, squeezing until his head dipped towards hers. “Not all pirates are uncouth or uneducated.” She nipped his bottom lip and then snatched the shirt from his grip with more laughter. “My father teaches everyone to read who desires the benefit. Having them learn numbers is an advantage also.”
She teased him. He let her. She mocked him to show she had the upper hand even in conversation and he let her. He liked the banter. No London lady would ever tease him so. “Still you don’t actually know where he came from at all, do you?”
As she slipped her arms into the sleeves, her movements graceful and sure, James couldn’t take his gaze from her. He wanted to kiss her again and again but the soft skin around her mouth was already grazed from the roughness of his facial hair and would only get worse if he were to keep nuzzling her. He almost missed her reply so fascinated was he.
“They all had lives before they came on board. We don’t ask questions.”
“How do you know which of them you can trust?”
She sat on the edge of the rumpled bed and pulled her breeches over her toes and up her legs. “It’s evident soon enough who wants to be there, who needs to be there and who shouldn’t be there. My father has a gift for judging a man’s character.”
“Does he often get it wrong?”
Daniella stopped midway through lacing her breeches and shot him an accusing glare. “No, not very often, but like any man, he isn’t perfect.” It looked as if there was more she would say on the subject but then she closed her mouth and resumed dressing.
The more he talked to Daniella about her father and the ship and her crew, the more intrigued he became. He’d belonged to an extended family when he was in the army. The sense of camaraderie and brotherhood was most of the reason he’d stayed in for as long as he had. If his brother hadn’t cracked and killed himself and their father, he would have stayed. He probably would have died out there in the mud somewhere but he would have died doing something he loved and thought a worthy cause. Who the hell did Bonaparte think he was anyway? As bad as bloody pirates in his book.
But maybe Captain Germaine wasn’t as bad as James had believed. He had to hope the man had more than a shred of common human decency for Amelia’s sake. If they lived through to the end of all of this, he was going to teach her to defend herself against a man. He might call upon Daniella to do the teaching. Since they were going to be married.
When the time came, she was going to try to weasel out of it. He knew what she thought of marriage and men and belonging to either the institution of matrimony or the flesh and blood aspect of it. Why had she agreed at all? In the heat of the moment? Perhaps she’d finally come to accept that her father was unlikely to let her back aboard The Aurora, reputation or no. He didn’t mind being her second choice. Not if it meant having her in his arms for the rest of their lives, making love to her wherever and whenever he desired.
There was only one thing he knew for certain. Come hell or high water he would marry her and save her once and for all from herself, from her father, from Darius. She was his partner in every way. If he didn’t hold on to her, the rest of his life would be miserable indeed.
Damn, he grew morose when he was tired, and tired he was now. The injury to the back of his head still throbbed, and his muscles stretched with strain from climbing the rigging and then the effort not to hurt Daniella. Seems he needn’t worry at all on that score. His smile grew into a grin and when she caught it directed at her, she blushed and turned away, her head down.
“You can’t look at me like that,” she said, doing her best to smooth her wild curls over her shoulders.
“Like what?” His feigned innocence was tragic. He would have never made a good actor. She started when he draped his coat over her shoulders. He leaned in close. “You better cover it all up just in case I’ve a mind to take everything off you again.”
His spirits were somewhat dampened when the door opened a while later to reveal Darius with another tray of food. He whistled a tune but didn’t call a greeting. At least he wasn’t neglecting them. But James didn’t want him there.
He stepped forwards to take the tray from the blackguard’s hands before he came too far into the room. He gave him a little nudge back in
