Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Halfway through the stew, he set the spoon in the bowl. “Address me properly, and you may ask your questions.”
Let go of your pride, Bennett. It won’t save you.
“Why are you so mean, my lord?”
“It’s not like me to be so with a woman.” He lifted his free hand to my cheek and traced the drying track of tears. “You behave more like a man.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Or rather… An animal.”
“There’s an animal in all of us. Including you.”
“Quite so. But the difference, madam, is that I control mine.”
“Have you always? What were you doing before you went a-hunting for pirates?”
“I fought in the War of the Spanish Succession.” His eyes illuminated as he absently lifted the spoon and resumed feeding me. “The battles that followed kept me occupied in the Mediterranean for five years, where I climbed from the lowest naval rank to my current standing.”
“Has the conflict ended there?”
“For now. This ship and my crew celebrated victory in an undeclared war last year when Spain tried to retake Gibraltar and Menorca. After that, we were sent back to England.”
“But you didn’t go.”
“I command the heaviest warship in the Royal Navy. It would be a shame to moor it.” He slid the spoon into my mouth and let the tip linger on my bottom lip, his gaze stuck there. “I found another use for it.”
Pirate hunting.
My stomach twisted, and I leaned back, breaking the connection. “I’m no longer hungry.”
He set the bowl at his foot and slanted forward, resting elbows on his knees. The position put his gorgeous face so close to mine I had to fight every instinct to remain where I was. I feared him, but I wouldn’t cower.
Not even when his hand caught the open neckline of my shirt.
“Do you still love him?” he murmured.
My heart stopped and restarted. “Who?”
“The man who wore this shirt.”
All the warmth in my face drained to my knees, replaced by a coldness that numbed my lips. I was too raw, too exhausted to fight another battle, pass another test, learn another lesson—whatever he had in store for me.
I closed my eyes, failing to slow my breaths. Until a curled finger caught me under the chin and lifted my head.
“Yes.” My gaze shot to his, hardening with sudden anger. “I still love him, but I’m working on rectifying that. It’s a process.” I motioned between my chest and head. “In here.”
“He betrayed you.” The hand beneath my jaw tensed, loosened, and fell away. “Was he involved in the mutiny on your ship that threw you overboard?”
“No.” I stared into his eyes, letting him find the truth in mine.
“He bedded another.”
“Bedded and loved.” I wanted to share this. Perhaps not with Ashley, but it felt freeing to voice it to an impartial ear. “He still loves her, but she won’t have him. He’s alone, and I should be happy about that. I am happy about that.”
Not really. I was lying through my teeth.
“He didn’t maliciously try to hurt you by seeking the arms of another,” Ashley said.
“No.” My eyebrows crawled together. “I don’t see why that matters.”
“Love isn’t a decision. It arrives unannounced, breeds madness, and leaves a sea of ruin in its wake. Hate him or love him. Either way, he’s in certain hell.”
My jaw unhinged under the weight of piling questions, but my voice deserted me. As I stared at his detached expression, I couldn’t separate the truth from the rhetoric. Was he feeding me what he wanted me to hear? Or was he speaking from experience?
“Close your mouth.” He reclined in the chair, regarding me.
“You speak of love from experience?”
“There’s a woman,” he said slowly. “A lady to whom I’m betrothed.”
“Do you love her?” My knees teetered, struggling to hold me up.
“I am here.” He spread his arms wide, indicating the ship and the sea. “And she is not.”
What did that mean? Did he want her here? Who was she? To be betrothed to a high-ranking officer and son of a viscount, she would have her own titles, family wealth, and obligations.
She would be someone important.
“Does she love you?” I shook my head, changing the direction of my thoughts. “Of course, that has no consequence. She wants to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She’s well-bred, titled, educated, modest, kind, beautiful, virtuous—everything a nobleman could want from his betrothed.”
There was positively no want in his voice or expression. But this was Ashley—buttoned, polished, and starched. Even so, why didn’t he race home after the war to see her? She must miss him horribly.
He was an extraordinary catch. Gorgeous. Wealthy. Powerful. As a titled lord, he was required to behave like a gentleman in her presence, meanwhile keeping her in the dark about his unchristian proclivities. Such as restraining, spanking, and sharing a bed with his half-naked female prisoner.