Bronwyn Williams The Mariner's Br

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She jerked it away and stepped back again, only to collide
with a hard
and surprisingly warm wall.
"Sorry I was so long, darling. Trouble in one of the
holds, but it's
all taken care of now. You were just leaving, Egleston?
Don't let us
keep you."
Rogan's arm had gone around Kathleen's waist to steady
her.
It remained there, like an iron comet.
His voice, speaking over her shoulder, was deceptively
soft, but there
was no mistaking the edge to his polite dismissal.
Egleston mumbled a hasty good-night and fled, and Kathleen
tried to
move away.
To her surprise, Rogan continued to hold her tightly
against him, her
back against his chest.
His feet were spread against the roll of the deck, and she
found
herself in the awkward position of being nestled between
his muscular
thighs.
Face blazing in the darkness, she said, "I'm grateful you
came along
when you did, Captain Rawson. That man makes me
uncomfortable."
"Then in light of the fact that I just rescued you from
discomfort, do
you think you might allow yourself to call me Rogan?"
The hard edge of his voice had been replaced by an
undercurrent of
amusement.
Kathleen made another attempt to step away, but succeeded
only in
arching her back at an unnatural angle.
"Would you mind releasing me?"
He chuckled.
"Are you sure you'll be all right? I'd hate to go to all
the trouble
of securing myself a bride, only to lose her overboard
before I even
get her home."
"I assure you, Captain Rawson, that I--" Just as he
obliged her, the
ship rolled to the port, lifted, then plunged forward into
a trough.
Both her arms and one of her legs flew upward, and she
would have
tumbled backward had not Rogan caught her again.
"Blast!" she muttered, grabbing for the hat she was no
longer
wearing.
Still laughing, Rogan held her with both arms as she
regained her
balance.
"Spread your legs, madam," he suggested.
"I beg your pardon!"
"Part your limbs. If you plant your feet far enough apart
to give you
a better purchase on the deck and take care not to lock
your knees,
you'll soon master the proper stance."
"Oh."
She tried it, and indeed, it did help.
By easing first one knee and then the other, she was able
to compensate
for the roll, but when the deck suddenly dropped out from
under both
feet again, there was little she could do except grab on
to the closest
thing at hand.
Which happened to be her husband.
"I suppose you find this amusing," she accused after a few
such near
disasters.
She was getting better, but just when she thought she had
learned the
waltz of the White Witch, the flighty thing did something
altogether
unexpected.
"You've mastered the roll readily enough. Now we'll work
on the pitch
and yaw. I'll have to admit, though, I'm glad Mrs. Crotts
went
below.
Don't know that I could have managed the pair of you
slipping and
sliding all over me.
"You should have warned us it was going to storm."
"Storm? If it is, I'll be greatly surprised, ma'am."
He was allowing her more freedom now, catching her only
when the deck
gave an unexpected lurch, but Kathleen's every instinct
told her he was
enjoying her discomfort altogether too much.
"I'd like to know what you call it," she snapped, raking a
tendril of
damp hair off her face.
"Ideal sailing weather. If the wind drops too much, we'll
be wallowing
like a sick whale. If she picks up, there's always the
chance of water
in the holds, and with a cargo of rice, that's never
something I care
to risk. The only cargo more dangerous in a storm is
dried beans."
"You're mocking me, sir."
"No, ma'am. I've seen many a fine coaster split asunder
after water
got to a cargo of dried beans. Swole up to five times
their size, they
did.
When the hatches flew off the holds aboard the Bessie, Mae
and Annie
out of Wilmington, they had so much force behind 'em that
they tore
through a main, brought down half the shrouds and carded
two men
overboard.
Kathleen scowled at him over her shoulder.
While she couldn't swear he was grinning, there was a
suspicious gleam
of white where his mouth should be.
"I don't believe a word of " she began, when another wave
of spray
struck her in the face.
She gasped and stepped back from the rail, and once more
he caught
her.
His face was buried in her wet hair, his hands biting into
her waist
like hot iron pincers, and she gasped for breath.
"Roses," she thought she heard him murmur.
And then something about.
primroses?
"I b-beg your pardon?"
He stepped back, dropping his hands.
"You'd best go below, ma'am, before you get any wetter.
If you catch a
chill, Hetty'll not be much help to you, and I'll be on my
way north as
soon as I get you settled ashore."
"But I haven't seen the moon yet."
The moon!
Dear Lord, had she lost what few wits she possessed?
"Cloud bank's settled over the horizon now. Likely there
won't be much
of a moon showing tonight."
His curt voice was even more chilling than the wind
against her wet
skin, especially after those brief, unexpected moments of
teasing.
If he'd wanted to remind her of the businesslike nature of
their
arrangement, he needn't have bothered.
She was well aware of it.
She wouldn't have had it any other way.
"Kathleen? You do understand that I'll not be abiding
ashore, don't
you?
We haven't had much time to talk, but Josiah assured me
that you
understood. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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