Page 27 of Mardon

“I disagree, and I’m sure my crew would disagree as well,” he mumbled.

“Still, it isna appropriate with a nun on board.”

“Nairnie, it’s already past dawn and you need to get out on deck. You know how ornery the men become when they are hungry.”

“Oh, my!” Nairnie’s eyes shot to the window and the sunlight streaming through. “I canna believe I overslept.” She waddled quickly to the door.

“I’ll help you prepare the meal,” said Emmaline, hurrying after her. She didn’t want to be left alone with Mardon, especially since he was half-naked.

“Nay. You’ll stay here with me for now, Sister,” Mardon told her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Mardon? Why do ye want her here?” asked Nairnie curiously.

“I just want to get to know Sister Emmaline better, that’s all,” he told her. “I have a few questions I’d like to ask her. Now, go, Nairnie. The men will be waiting.”

Nairnie sighed and headed out the door, closing it behind her.

Emmaline stared at the back of the door, not wanting to look at Mardon.

“Turn around . . . Sister.” She heard the floor creak as he walked toward her. Slowly, she turned and faked a smile.

“What was it you wanted to ask me?”

“I wanted to show you this.” He stuck out his arm and she saw the scar where she had stabbed him when she’d tried to kill him on her husband’s ship. “Do you know how I got this scar?”

“How could I know?” She looked the other way.

“It was given to me by a beautiful woman. First, she offered her body to me, and when I tried to take what was offered, she tried to kill me.”

“Oh, I see.” She looked down and wrung her hands.

“It’s a scar that will never go away. Just feel how the skin is raised.”

Before she could stop him, he’d grabbed her hand and ran it down his arm. The feel of his warm skin made her warm as well.

“Yes. That’s a . . . a bad scar. I’m sorry it happened.”

“The woman I received it from was her.” His eyes shot over to the painting.

“I see.” She couldn’t look.

“Nay, you don’t see. You’re not even looking.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face the painting. “Take a good look.”

With her back to his chest, she closed her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of the horrible thing she had done by posing for that wretched painting.

“Sister? You’re not looking.” He whispered in her ear, causing a fire to burn deep in her belly. Then, to her surprise, he started kissing her neck. She froze, unable to move or even talk, not knowing what to do.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked in a sultry whisper. She felt a delicious shiver run up her spine. If she didn’t stop him soon, there would be no turning back.

“Stop it,” she commanded, turning to look at him now. When she did, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Once again, she experienced the tantalizing kiss of the handsome pirate, and her knees became weak beneath her. Desire spiraled through her, making her feel shame. She should never have these feelings about a cutthroat pirate. Especially one that not only stole from her, but killed her bastard of a husband. Their lips parted only for a second before he dipped back down and kissed her again. This time, his tongue parted her lips and entered her mouth. He filled her completely. She heard a moan of desire and realized it came from her! Her thoughts were spiraling out of control. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” she cried. “You can’t kiss a nun like that! What is the matter with you?” She backed away from him, her eyes interlocked with his beautiful, bright blue orbs. His intense stare pulled her in, and she was unable to look away.

“True, I can’t,” he told her. “But then again, you’re not a nun, are you?” He took another step forward, reaching out and ripping off her wimple, throwing it to the ground. Her long tresses spilled out around her shoulders.

“I knew I’d seen you somewhere before, even if you denied it.”