Read Online In the Arms of a Pirate (A Sam Steele Romance Book 2) by Michelle Beattie - Free Book Online Page B

stairs one guard before them, two behind. When they reached the bottom, the captain strode out of the parlor. “Take the others to the kitchen, the butler and Jacob are already there. This one”—he pointed to Mrs. Bingham—“can be in charge of food. The men are hungry.”
    Mrs. Bingham scowled as fiercely as Sarah had ever seen and she knew by the twitch in the maid’s lips that it was costing her to remain silent. It didn’t stop her, however, from turning to Sophia, grabbing her ear and dragging her to the kitchen. Emma skittered behind them, followed by the guards. Sarah would speak to Mrs. Bingham again about Sophia’s innocence but, at the moment, there were other matters to attend to. She faced her captor.
    The captain’s gaze pierced hers. “Apparently, you’ve never learned to take orders.”
    “Actually, I have, but there were more pressing matters than responding to your summons.”
    “Well, if your highness has no further pressing matters…” He gestured toward the parlor.
    As having a discussion had been her plan as well, Sarah didn’t bicker over his choice of name for her though she didn’t care for his degrading tone. Unwilling to lower herself to his level, Sarah stepped into the sunlit parlor. She was about to take her usual place on the sofa but decided in her father’s absence she was master of this house and instead sat on the elaborately carved wainscot chair usually reserved for him.
    It was not lost on Sarah that sitting in such a chair would only serve to further reinforce this man’s opinion of her. Nevertheless, she settled into it and arranged her skirts before focusing her attention on him.
    In her isolated life, Sarah had only known a handful of men. A select few of her father’s most trusted crewmates and the staff he kept here at the house. The crewmen always seemed uncivilized to Sarah. Certainly, they behaved properly in her presence, and dressed accordingly but Sarah had always had the impression the clothes were but a ruse. Perhaps it was the madness she caught a glimpse of when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. Or the way the words seemed a struggle to form and always sounded forced, as though it wasn’t the way they usually spoke.
    At any rate, neither they nor the hired men were as young or handsome as this man standing before the row of windows. He’d taken off his bandana and the morning light played on his blond hair, shone on his golden skin. Considering he was after her father, she shouldn’t be noticing such things.
    Forcing her mind back to what was important, Sarah stated, “I think you’re looking for the wrong man.”
    “Do you now?”
    “My father is a merchant sailor. Whatever it is you think he’s done, you’re mistaken.”
    “A merchant sailor?” he sputtered. “Is that what he’s told you all these years?”
    Sarah’s back went taut. “Of course it’s what he’s told me, as that’s precisely what he is.”
    “No, your highness, that is not what he is.”
    “My name is Sarah,” she corrected. “And if he is not the merchant sailor he tells me he is, than what is he?”
    He strode from the window to her chair, anger tightening his jaw and lips. He stopped, shoved the stool aside with his boot and stood looming over her. She would have stood as she’d prefer not to have to crane her neck to look up at him, but he was too close. If she tried, she’d likely end up pressed against him. With Sophia’s words from last night still in her head the image wasn’t a hard one to conjure. Her belly fluttered as it formed clear in her mind. What was she thinking? He wasn’t a gentleman; he was a brigand. Setting her jaw, she willed away the disturbing image.
    He opened his mouth as though to speak then sighed deeply instead.
    He stepped back. “You really don’t know, do you?” The anger faded from his face and mouth but he was very solemn when he took a deep breath and said, “Your father and everyone else in his employ has