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She pulled her knees to her chest and glared. “Señora, notseñorita. I’m a married woman.”
He arched a brow as he picked up a shoe from the floor and reached for her foot. “And where is your husband,señora? Was he the old man lying atop you on theHekla?”
She pouted, grabbed the shoe and struggled to get her foot into it, unwittingly exposing more of her calf than she likely intended. He couldn’t take his eyes off the tempting bare skin.
“Absolut ikke,” she replied vehemently. “Definitely not.”
Then she softened. “Is he dead?”
“Very,” he replied.
She averted her gaze. “Did you kill him?”
He laughed. “No, I think you did.”
She scowled and grabbed the second shoe. “We fell when the ship changed course suddenly.”
“Then, I suppose it was my fault,” he conceded, relieved she’d covered her legs before he began to think too hard on the intimate place he’d encounter if he danced his fingers up those long limbs. “Can I assist you out of bed? We don’t want another tumble.”
She hesitated only a moment before coming to her knees and opening her arms.
He put his hands on her waist and lifted, wondering what it would be like to wake up with this courageous woman beside him every day. It was laughable. He’d need a bigger bunk.
* * *
“My name is Lázaro,” the pirate said as he lifted her effortlessly.
She put her hands on his arms to steady herself, remembering how easily he’d carried her. “As inrisen from the dead?” she blurted out, gobsmacked by the hard muscle beneath her fingers. “That can’t be your real name.”
His smile settled her nerves. “A pirate never reveals his real name,” he replied.
He set her down on the planked floor, but kept his warm hands on her waist until she got used to the movement of the ship. She risked a glance at his face, struck by something unusual about his eyes.
“Two different colors,” he explained. “One green, one brown.”
He’d sensed her fascination. Clearly, she wasn’t the first woman to notice those intriguing eyes. She resolved to be more cautious before she spoke. If she’d kept her mouth shut on Sankt Thomas…
Food For Thought
Atap at the door brought Lázaro back from the brink. He’d almost surrendered to the temptation to pull the Danish woman into his arms and kiss her luscious lips. “Your dinner,señora,” he announced, withdrawing his hands from her waist when the galley boy entered with a tray.
“Gracias, Pedro,” he said. “On the desk,por favor.”
He waited until the lad had left before moving his chair to the desk. “Is it permitted to know your name?” he asked, motioning for her to sit. “Señoraseems formal for a guest in my cabin.”
Her puzzled frown as she accepted the invitation hopefully indicated surprise at his courtly manners. It was a pleasant change to allow the noble blood in his veins to dictate the way he treated his captive.
“Jakobsen,” she murmured. “SeñoraJakobsen.”
He was disappointed not to learn her given name, but if he was patient…
She surveyed the array of roots, tubers and fruit on the large platter. “There’s so much food here,” she said.
“Con permiso,” he said, leaning on a corner of the desk and crossing one leg over the other, “I will share with you.”
Her blush warmed him. He wished the prudish blouse revealed more of her cleavage. From his vantage point he’d be able to see if the flush spread to…
“What do you intend to do with me?” she asked, jolting his carnal thoughts back to reality.
