The Pirate Lord by Sabrina Jeffries

to them at the helm above, and for a moment a chill raced down her spine. The stiffness of his stance, the boldly splayed legs, the broad, forbidding back…never had she seen such a frightening form of a man. Mr. Kent needn’t worry. She had no desire to taunt Captain Horn. No desire at all.
    Then Mr. Kent was taking her through the doors beneath the quarterdeck and into a wide room like the saloon on the Chastity . No one was there right now, thank goodness, for they were all too busy maneuvering the ship away from the Chastity . But soon the room would be filled with pirates, drinking and gambling and…
    She shuddered to think of what else they might do. At least she and the women had a short respite. Andmaybe if she spoke reasonably to the captain, she could convince him to change his mind.
    That thought foundered as Mr. Kent opened the door to the captain’s cabin in the ship’s stern and ushered her inside. She looked around, feeling a sharp lurch of despair at the sight of the cabin’s lush interior and well-stocked gun cabinet. This wasn’t the cabin of a honest man, who would take pity on a shipload of convict women. This was the cabin of a licentious murderer. And there would be no mercy for them, none at all.
    “The captain will be with you in a moment,” Mr. Kent murmured before leaving and closing the door behind him.
    She scarcely heard him. She was too busy scanning her surroundings. She’d only been in one captain’s cabin, and that was the one belonging to Captain Rogers. Its spartan, lean lines and minimal comforts made it look like a cabin boy’s berth compared to this.
    Every piece of furniture was made of the best mahogany, from the desk cluttered with instruments and papers to the cabinet that held guns and knives of every description behind its cut crystal doors. The royal blue curtains were shot through with gold threads, and a Persian carpet lay on the floor, an obvious extravagance where water was a constant threat.
    But the most alarming thing was the large mahogany bed presiding over one corner of the spacious cabin, its posts carved with the same satyr motif that graced the ship’s figurehead. A coverlet of insolent red silk was draped over the plush mattress, with a heap of jet-black pillows at one end. She walked to the bed in a trance, wondering aloud what debaucheries and horrors had been committed there.
    Involuntarily, she reached out to touch the patterned scarlet silk as a sudden vivid image of the dark-haired pirate captain rose up in her mind. He must have had many women in this bed. A strange heat spread through her body to think of him bending over a woman, touching her body with those large hands, kissing her with that firm, mocking mouth—
    “Looking for signs of thievery, pillage, and rape, Lady Sara?” came a voice behind her.
    She whirled away from the bed, her cheeks stained crimson. Good heavens, it was him, the pirate captain himself. How utterly mortifying! Now she had something new to add to her list of humiliating experiences.
    He closed the door, a smile playing over his lips as she stood there speechless. “The coverlet belonged to an obnoxious viscount on his way to America to marry an heiress,” he said as he removed the saber from his belt and hung it on a hook by the door. Then he strode to his desk and cast her a brazen look. “I enjoyed removing it from the bed he was sharing with his mistress.”
    She winced, remembering what Mr. Kent had said about the captain’s hatred of the nobility. Perhaps she should tell him the truth about her own dubious connections. That might make him more inclined to listen to her pleas. “Captain Horn, I think I should…er…set you straight on one matter. I am not…that is to say…you shouldn’t call me Lady Sara.”
    In the muted light of the cabin, his sudden scowl made him look even more like a creature out of mythology, a dangerous, fearful creature liable to snap her up in his massive jaws at any minute.