He shouted orders to the crew, walked a few feet, jumped over the wooden rail to the deck below and headed straight for her.
She smiled at his approach, clapping her hands together, demonstrating as usual her little-girl excitement. “I can’t wait to see the island.”
o0o
Lucian stopped in front of her, grabbing her clasped hands in his. “You will obey my every word once on the island. You will not question my commands, you will do as I bid. Is that perfectly clear, Catherine?”
“Perfectly,” she agreed.
He pressed the point. “This island is like no place you have ever been. Men are shot dead in the street. Women ply their trade wherever they wish. Liquor flows like water. Weapons are carried by everyone.”
“May I carry a weapon?” she asked, the thought thrilling her.
“No, you may not,” he answered sternly, annoyed that she had not paid attention to his all-too-accurate description of Tortuga.
Catherine stuck her chest out proudly. “I know how to shoot a pistol.”
Lucian fixed his gaze directly on her. “You know how to shoot a pistol at a target set up at an appropriate distance for practice. But have you ever shot at a moving target?”
Catherine answered honestly. “No.”
Lucian admired her forthright manner and strangely enough he sensed he could trust her. An odd feeling for him to accept since he rarely trusted anyone.
He raised his leg and brought his boot down to rest on the edge of the barrel next to Catherine. He reached down inside his boot and withdrew a small knife sheathed in a leather pouch.
“For you,” he said, handing it to Catherine.
She accepted it with surprise.
He answered the question that he assumed was on her lips. “You may need to protect yourself.
Catherine looked perplexed. “You’ll be with me.”
Pleased by her confidence in him to protect her, he explained, “Always be prepared, Catherine. You never know what dangers may befall you.”
Catherine nodded, agreeing with his remark, and proceeded to unwrap the strings from around the pouch. “Where do I fasten it?”
Lucian moved his boot off the barrel and with a gracious wave of his hand extended an invitation. “Your leg, madam.”
Excitement raced through her and she hoisted her skirt and plopped her foot down on the barrel’s edge.
Lucian pushed her skirt back, but as he raised it clear to her thigh, her hand shot out stopping him.
He looked at her questioningly. “I’ve seen every inch of you.”
Catherine felt her cheeks heat up. “But your crew hasn’t, nor do I wish them to.”
Lucian thought it odd that a woman who had known so many men should be embarrassed by the show of her limb. But catching the crew’s sudden interest in their actions, he bowed to her wish.
“Then allow me to secure it for you,” he offered, slipping his hands out from under her petticoats and taking the pouch from her.
His hands once again disappeared beneath her skirt, his fingers riding intimately up her leg to the inside of her thigh.
She shuddered against his gentle touch. It flamed her belly and tingled her flesh.
“A sensitive spot. I must remember that,” he teased, feeling gooseflesh ripple beneath his hand. He caressed her thigh more thoroughly, relishing her response.
“I would enjoy your lips much better there, Captain. Perhaps tonight when we’re alone?” she said, realizing that only an outrageous remark would make him stop.
He looked up at her, a dangerous smile curling his lips. “Hold your lustful tongue once on the island, madam, or you may get more than you bargained for. The men of Totuga are far from mannered or gentle.”
His fingers deftly secured the leather ties to her thigh before roughly pulling her petticoats and skirt completely down over her leg.
Catherine detested the charade she played. The character she portrayed was foreign to her, her morals alien. The idea that he thought her capable of seducing a stranger on an island known for its sinful pursuits disturbed her. She was a lady, and Lord, how she wished she could behave like one.
Instead, she yanked her foot off the barrel, shook out her skirt, fluffing it as if concerned with how it looked, and raised her chin up. “I have no intentions of searching for a –“
She interrupted herself with a pause, hastily exploring her thoughts for the right phrase.
“A quick toss of the skirt?” Lucian finished her curtly.
She turned her head to the gentle breeze that billowed the lowering sails, begging for the fresh wind to cool her heated cheeks. He could embarrass her so easily with his crude remarks.
And only a lady would blush appropriately. She couldn’t have her secret discovered for he would make certain she didn’t remain a lady for long.