His Wicked Kiss Part 11

He knew what it was, but eyed her sardonically, trying to prod her into giving up her weapon. "Weeds?"

He took the orange, tossed it to the Nipper, and then handed the bag back to Trahern. "Throw it overboard."

"Yes, sir."

"No!" she cried. "Mr. Trahern, please, you can't!"

"Why?" Jack demanded.

Trahern hesitated, looking from his idolized captain to the lady stowaway and back again, torn between duty and chivalry.

Eden lifted her chin and pointed to the bits of pressed plants. "Those are not weeds, as you know well. They are botanical samples from my father's research-plants with healing powers. I am taking them to London to show to Lord Pembrooke."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, Jack. Really."

"Captain," he corrected her, putting her in her place, given the circ.u.mstances. He would not be addressed with such insolence in front of his men.

She lifted her chin. "Captain, they are rare and precious plants that the scientists at the Royal Botanical Gardens will want to seed for their greenhouses!"

"Fascinating. Trahern, throw it in the ocean."

"Yes, sir." Crestfallen, his lieutenant continued toward the rails.

"No!" Eden cried.

"Wait," Jack ordered.

"Please." She gazed at him in exasperation.

"Very well, Miss Farraday," he resumed in a consummately reasonable tone. "Give me your knife, and I will spare your weeds."

His offer only got him her glare. Then she muttered, "You want it? Fine. Here it is!"

Without warning, she hurled her machete-it flew through the air and plunged into the mast quite near Jack's head.

The crew let out amazed exclamations at her defiant display of prowess, no doubt impressed by her aim.

Jack's eyes glowed with pride as he gazed at her for a second. He glanced drily at the large knife still shuddering from the impact, the blade sunk about two inches into the wood.

The wild woman, his future wife, folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin, still furious, but looking decidedly pleased with herself.

"Miss Farraday," he reproached her with an indulgent tsk, tsk. "You stabbed my s.h.i.+p."

Chapter.

Six.

Though she held her chin high in a show of grand defiance, Eden knew she was defenseless after having been disarmed. But when Lord Jack started toward her with that strange, murderously tranquil smile on his face, she blanched and spun around, seeking any escape route.

There was nowhere to flee. Her heart pounded. Her frantic gaze scanned the sun-splashed decks and homed in on the rigging.

"Oh, no, you don't," he chided, grabbing her around her waist as she tried to scamper up the nearest st.u.r.dy rope ladder.

He pulled her bodily off the rungs of the mainmast shrouds and slung her over his shoulder, plopping her into place with a hearty clap on the rump.

She let out a small shriek at the indignity and fought him as best she could, but Jack was undeterred, easily restraining her flailing arms and legs. He had the nerve to laugh at her struggles.

"Put me down, you blackguard-pirate-beast!" she yelled, even as it became very clear which one of them was in charge; but that didn't stop her from fighting, never mind the fact that all that stood between her and one very large, very powerful, very annoyed ex-pirate was whatever shred of chivalry still dwelled within his breast.

A dubious hope.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Cap," a cheeky sailor said with a wink as they pa.s.sed by.

Jack shot him a scowl. "Roll a barrel of fresh water into my day cabin. Chit smells like the bilge."

"I do not!"

"Aye, sir." The sailor snapped to it.

"Yes, you do."

"Food and drink, post-haste," he ordered another. "Stop kicking me, Eden."

"You deserve it!"

"I'm not the one who stowed away," he reminded her as he carried her past the great steering wheel of the s.h.i.+p, past a group of gaping, wide-eyed young sailors. Lord Jack maneuvered her in through a door on the quarterdeck.

"Put me down, d.a.m.n you!"

"Such language!" he exclaimed mildly. "You won't make many fine friends in London talking like that."

"You," she informed him, dangling precariously off the cliff of his huge shoulder, "are an ogre."

He set her down on her feet with a plunk, smirked at her in the most deliberately provoking way, and then went back to the door to accept the delivery of the barrel of fresh water.

Dry-mouthed upon finding herself alone with him, she tugged her father's borrowed jacket back into place and stole a nervous glance around at the room into which he had absconded with her.

After so many days in the dim, utilitarian storage areas, she was admittedly impressed by the sprawling stateroom's smart, masculine style. To be sure, she had come quite a few steps closer to civilization.

The captain's day cabin was a handsomely appointed business office with dark wood paneling, bra.s.s wall sconces, and a few oil paintings in gilded frames. It had a curious floor covering of stretched canvas that had been painted with black and white squares to resemble marble tiles; from the low, beamed ceiling above hung a pewter chandelier centered over the round worktable in the middle of the room.

The heavy, claw-foot table, strewn with charts and maps, was part of a suite of mahogany furniture with chairs in red leather upholstery; the main piece, however, dominating the stateroom, was the grand baronial desk. But although the room's furnis.h.i.+ngs suggested the establishment of a prestigious London merchant, there was no forgetting they were on a s.h.i.+p in the middle of the sea, for along the back wall, a row of sparkling stern windows revealed an endless horizon of deep sapphire ocean.

Built-in storage benches below the windows were cus.h.i.+oned with the same red leather upholstery as the chairs. Beyond the stern windows, a narrow jib door led to a private, open-air balcony with a carved, gilded railing and a few low-slung chairs here and there. It was shady and cool out on the stern gallery, sheltered by the overhang of the p.o.o.p deck above.

Turning to Jack again, she watched him roll the barrel of water into the room before closing the door in the cheeky sailor's eager face. He locked the door then turned to her.

She took a wary step backward.

"You, Miss Farraday, are one b.l.o.o.d.y-minded individual," he informed her, resting his hands on his hips for a moment. "I could almost admire that, if you weren't so d.a.m.ned much trouble. But-you're here now, aren't you? So I'm just going to have to deal with you." He trailed a brooding glance over her from head to toe.

Eden s.h.i.+fted her weight uncomfortably.

"Right," he said with a businesslike nod. "Take off your clothes."

Her eyes shot open wide. "What?"

"Take them off and throw them in the ocean," he instructed, nodding toward the balcony as he prowled across the room.

"I shall do nothing of the kind!"

He paused and looked at her, one eyebrow arched. "Pardon?"

"No!"

"I gave you an order." His dark stare sharpened. "Or would you rather I do it for you?"

"You stay away from me!" she cried, darting around the worktable.

"Then do as you are told," he warned, but instead of coming around the table to forcibly disrobe her as threatened, he disappeared through a small door into a roomy storage closet that adjoined the cabin.

Eden made no move to obey his scandalous order, instead only peering after him as he reached up and brought down a large wooden bathing tub that had been securely stored out of the way on hooks sunk into the bulkhead.

He backed out of the little room, angling the big tub carefully through the narrow doorway. "What are you waiting for?" he asked when he saw her. "Strip."

"You can't be serious."

He just looked at her, and it was obvious he wasn't jesting.

"Really, my lord! Is this how you treat all your pa.s.sengers?"

"You are not a pa.s.senger, Eden, you are a thief," he replied matter-of-factly. "Now, if you would rather not be treated like one and spend the duration of our voyage in the brig, to be turned over to the authorities when we arrive, I suggest you comply."

"You wouldn't!"

"Quarantine you for the safety of my men? You're d.a.m.ned right I would. Come, Miss Farraday, you are a physician's daughter." He rolled the bathing tub over to a large rectangle of sunlight streaming in through the stern windows. "You know fevers brew down in the hold where you've been hiding. Illness kills more men than battle out at sea, and I will not have you spreading disease among my crew. You must wash, and those clothes must be destroyed. Let's just hope you haven't picked up any lice, as well, or we may have to cut off all those pretty auburn tresses."

She gasped, her hand flying up to protect her long hair, but she remained rooted in place, clutching her jacket closed despite the heat.

Lifting the seat of one of the red leather window benches, Lord Jack pulled out a fresh white bedsheet, shook out the folds, and then used it to line the bottom of the bathing tub.

"There," he said with a devilish gleam in his eyes. "Now you won't get a splinter in your lovely bottom. Though if you did, I would be glad to get it out for you. Return the favor, don't you know."

Eden narrowed her eyes at him in warning as her cheeks turned scarlet. Her pulse was pounding.

With some chagrin, she recognized the truth of what he said about observing proper hygiene at sea to avoid any outbreak of disease.

On the other hand, she also remembered his lascivious threat about how she would pay for her pa.s.sage if she came aboard his s.h.i.+p, and here he was telling her to get naked.

It did not bode well.

Lifting the heavy water barrel easily onto one mighty shoulder-the one she had lately occupied-Jack carried it over to the tub and set it down again. He popped the seal off the barrel's lid and removed it. "Go on," he said, glancing at her as he picked up the water barrel again, pouring half its contents into the bathing tub. "I don't have all day."

Eden just stood there, at a loss. Lord Jack had turned this into a battle of wills, but everything was so far stacked in his favor that how could she possibly win?

When he set the barrel down again, the masterful nod that he jerked in her direction needed no words to order her into the water.

Yes, she had stowed away, but was she really a thief? She had never thought of it like that; she had known it was naughty but hardly an actual crime. Yet he had threatened to hand her over to the law if she did not do as he said. She glanced in distress from the bathing tub to her captor, realizing that her insubordination so far had only been tolerated because of her s.e.x.

But if that thought inspired a fleeting sense of grat.i.tude, he ruined it when he dropped casually into the armchair across from the tub.

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you going to leave?"

"h.e.l.l, no. Why should I?"

"But-you don't mean to sit there gawking at me?" she cried.

"Oh, my dear, I think I am ent.i.tled to it." He stretched his arms upward and then linked his fingers behind his head, regarding her with a diabolical smile. "Looking at naked women, after all, is one of a man's few great joys in life, a pleasure sadly lacking at sea. But don't worry, my dear. You haven't got anything I haven't seen before. Proceed," he commanded with a kingly wave of his hand. He sat back again and waited for the show.

Eden glared at him.

His eyes danced; his stare caressed her.

She looked at him imploringly.

"I told you this was how you would repay me," he reminded her softly, reckless charm edging his faint smile. "You brought this on yourself, my wild little jungle flower. Go on. It's just you and me," he said in a silky tone that had probably bewitched young ladies on several continents.

Eden was trembling. Horrible, wicked blackguard. Fortunately for her own sake, she bit her tongue instead of uttering her sentiments aloud. Her chin came up a notch. "What then, am I, your entertainment for the journey?"

"Yes. Something like that."

He enjoyed toying with her, she realized. It was written all over his handsome face.

"Is it so hard for you to obey one simple order?" he inquired, then he reached over and picked up a quill pen off his desk. "Must I flog you into submission?" he murmured, waving the feathery plume back and forth suggestively.

Eden s.h.i.+vered as she scowled. "You are despicable."

"I just saved your a.r.s.e," he reminded her with a pointed smile.