The Wicked Ways of Alexander Kidd (The MacGregors: Highland Heirs) by Paula Quinn

She didn’t see him and let her gaze drift to the crew attending to the running riggings. Odd, she hadn’t noticed before but none of them wore shoes. They did, however, all wear the same close-fitting canvas pants that the captain wore, along with bandannas tokeep the hot sun from burning their heads and their hair out of their eyes. They sang while they worked and twice she blushed at the use of their words to describe women’s breasts.
    She turned and looked behind her, upstairs at the helm. Was the captain there? Before she could stop them, her feet moved her forward. She climbed, passing the sterncastle deck to the poop deck.
    She saw him, hands on the wheel, legs braced, guiding the behemoth beneath him over the thrashing sea while sea spray moistened his shirt and made it cling to him. He had the look about him like he could conquer the world… and her, if he so chose. He was a danger to her and she knew it. Still, she angled her head to see his profile beneath his rescued hat. His gaze was steady on the horizon, his mouth set to his course.
    “I told ya to wait fer me.”
    “I grew bored,” she told him, only slightly surprised that he sensed her presence. “I’d hoped to find Kyle.”
    He slipped her a brief glance. His sexy smirk weakened her kneecaps. “Ya thought he’d be sailin’ the ship then?”
    “Nae, of course not.” Hell, he was infuriating; subtly insinuating that she was looking for him and not her cousin. “I came up here because I… I… well, I…” She wasn’t any good at lying. Kyle never could get her to master the skill the way he had. Then again, she’d never wanted to be a spy but an adventurer… She glared at the grinning captain, balled her hands into fists, and stormed away, back toward the stairs.
    “Best remove them—”
    She slipped on the wet stairs and tumbled down the rest of them.
    “—shoes.”
    “Cap’n’s right,” Mr. Pierce said, standing over her and lending her a hand. “Deck’s slippery. Ya can balance better barefoot.”
    “Thank ye.” She rose to her feet and wiped her palms down her skirts. “Where is my cousin?”
    The quartermaster broke his gaze from her and motioned with his chin along the port side of the ship. “He’s bein’ pierced.”
    Trina nearly shouted. “Pierced? Why?” She shoved past him without waiting for his response—which he gave her anyway as she hurried off.
    “He’s been pukin’ all afternoon, that’s why.”
    Good lord, what were they doing to Kyle? Had they overpowered him? Taken him down while their captain sailed off into the sun, oblivious to the cruelty of his crew? Was the captain oblivious to anything? Nae, the bastard wasn’t. He knew what they were doing to Kyle. She came to the hatch leading down to the mate’s quarters and descended without hesitation. Almost immediately she was abducted by a pair of grimy, groping fingers. It was dark below deck, but she managed to smash the end of her palm into his throat, the way her mother had taught her. She didn’t wait for him to fall but hurried onward, eager to find her cousin. Her attacker hadn’t fallen but gave chase and grabbed her by a fistful of hair. She cried out as he dragged her to her knees and fire lanced her scalp. She had to think, not about her pain, but about his. Her heart raced, making her feel a little light-headed with fear. No man had ever attacked her before. This was real. There were no big, brawny Highlanders here to protect her. Would he kill her? She had to control her terror and think about what she had been taught.
    Clenching her hands together, she swung her armsback between her thighs and then hauled her double fist high into his groin.
    He came down beside her, still holding her hair. For a moment, she couldn’t see, or think, almost as helpless as he. He gave her locks a yank, proving his quick recovery. She realized with the prick of a knife at her throat just how close her head was to his wounded groin. He pulled,