Read Online Love With an Improper Stranger by Barbara Devlin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Devlin
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dangerous.”
“Actually, we use button-tipped weapons, so it is quite harmless.” The tension about the corners of her eyes conveyed he had not answered as she had hoped. “But what say I enlist Damian’s aid, and we make it a foursome?”
“He is your brother?” Lucy tapped her chin and narrowed her stare.
“In every way.” Blake ushered them to the mainsail hull, where the jolly boat had been lowered. “Now, over you go, Miss Lucilla.” After she scampered down the rope ladder, he turned to Lenore. “Next.”
“Are you sure this is safe?” With a death grip on his hand, the elder Teversham peered at the small craft bobbing in the current. “It does not seem too stable, and I cannot swim.”
“What do you mean you cannot swim?” Bloody hell, he had not foreseen that development. Given his intent to escort the ladies about town, while the crew unloaded the injured and the dead to their homeland, he had thought only of shielding the women from an unpleasant task. “Did you never learn?”
“Blake, you make no sense.” With her face as white as a sheet, Lenore gritted her teeth. “Had I learned to swim, I would not claim said deficiency, but I am terrified of the sea, a fact you well know.”
“I am sorry, Lenore.” The strength of her hold underscored the intensity of her fear, which was not lost on him. Determined to spare her the grim reality of war, as manifested by the casualties, he assessed the situation. “Do you trust me?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” She gulped.
“Very funny.” Backing her to the larboard rail, he clutched her forearms. “Now I want you to go slow, and take your time. Step with care, and focus on my voice.”
With a nod, she lowered her slippered foot to the rope ladder, which shifted beneath her weight, and she shrieked. “ Blake .”
“It is all right, Lenore. I have you.” The raw panic in her gaze, the lines of strain about her eyes, and her now violent trembling tore at his heart. “I am in your wake, so you need not fret for your person.”
As she descended, he repositioned his support and sidled down with her. If he went into the drink, he would simply suffer a cold plunge, so he risked the awkward orientation. At last, she jumped into the jolly boat, and he quickly joined her. The minute he took his seat, Lenore lunged at him.
“Shh, sweetheart.” He whispered reassurances, as she clung like a wet blanket. “I will never let anything harm you.” To Mr. Hammond, Blake said, “To the docks.”
“Aye, sir.” The young sailor dipped his chin.
“Can I help, Cap’n?” As usual, Lucy wanted to try something new.
“Yes, you may.” Blake eased Lenore closer. “Hammond, give Miss Teversham an oar.”
While the two were distracted, Blake framed Lenore’s jaw and kissed her. His aim was simple, as he meant to soothe her frazzled nerves, but instead he set his on edge, as she sank into him and returned the gesture with equal measure. Molten passion ignited beneath the gentleman’s garb, as the gentle pressure of her fingers to his chest signaled her active participation.
Desire erupted, a brutal torture, burning through his defenses. Anticipation glimmered, a secondary torment, fueled by the knowledge that she wanted him. The fever grew, the hunger thrummed, and the longing exploded. And although he should have satisfied himself with what she offered, he could not resist blazing a trail from her sumptuous lips to the swanlike curve of her neck. When her breath hitched, in a subtle inhalation that carried on the light breeze, he came alert and drew rein.
Aware of nothing save the repetitive splash of the oars slicing the water, Blake separated from his lady. Their current location, as they neared the docks, afforded no privacy, and he refused to besmirch, in any way, the reputation of the woman he fully intended to marry. So he would wait. He would
“Actually, we use button-tipped weapons, so it is quite harmless.” The tension about the corners of her eyes conveyed he had not answered as she had hoped. “But what say I enlist Damian’s aid, and we make it a foursome?”
“He is your brother?” Lucy tapped her chin and narrowed her stare.
“In every way.” Blake ushered them to the mainsail hull, where the jolly boat had been lowered. “Now, over you go, Miss Lucilla.” After she scampered down the rope ladder, he turned to Lenore. “Next.”
“Are you sure this is safe?” With a death grip on his hand, the elder Teversham peered at the small craft bobbing in the current. “It does not seem too stable, and I cannot swim.”
“What do you mean you cannot swim?” Bloody hell, he had not foreseen that development. Given his intent to escort the ladies about town, while the crew unloaded the injured and the dead to their homeland, he had thought only of shielding the women from an unpleasant task. “Did you never learn?”
“Blake, you make no sense.” With her face as white as a sheet, Lenore gritted her teeth. “Had I learned to swim, I would not claim said deficiency, but I am terrified of the sea, a fact you well know.”
“I am sorry, Lenore.” The strength of her hold underscored the intensity of her fear, which was not lost on him. Determined to spare her the grim reality of war, as manifested by the casualties, he assessed the situation. “Do you trust me?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” She gulped.
“Very funny.” Backing her to the larboard rail, he clutched her forearms. “Now I want you to go slow, and take your time. Step with care, and focus on my voice.”
With a nod, she lowered her slippered foot to the rope ladder, which shifted beneath her weight, and she shrieked. “ Blake .”
“It is all right, Lenore. I have you.” The raw panic in her gaze, the lines of strain about her eyes, and her now violent trembling tore at his heart. “I am in your wake, so you need not fret for your person.”
As she descended, he repositioned his support and sidled down with her. If he went into the drink, he would simply suffer a cold plunge, so he risked the awkward orientation. At last, she jumped into the jolly boat, and he quickly joined her. The minute he took his seat, Lenore lunged at him.
“Shh, sweetheart.” He whispered reassurances, as she clung like a wet blanket. “I will never let anything harm you.” To Mr. Hammond, Blake said, “To the docks.”
“Aye, sir.” The young sailor dipped his chin.
“Can I help, Cap’n?” As usual, Lucy wanted to try something new.
“Yes, you may.” Blake eased Lenore closer. “Hammond, give Miss Teversham an oar.”
While the two were distracted, Blake framed Lenore’s jaw and kissed her. His aim was simple, as he meant to soothe her frazzled nerves, but instead he set his on edge, as she sank into him and returned the gesture with equal measure. Molten passion ignited beneath the gentleman’s garb, as the gentle pressure of her fingers to his chest signaled her active participation.
Desire erupted, a brutal torture, burning through his defenses. Anticipation glimmered, a secondary torment, fueled by the knowledge that she wanted him. The fever grew, the hunger thrummed, and the longing exploded. And although he should have satisfied himself with what she offered, he could not resist blazing a trail from her sumptuous lips to the swanlike curve of her neck. When her breath hitched, in a subtle inhalation that carried on the light breeze, he came alert and drew rein.
Aware of nothing save the repetitive splash of the oars slicing the water, Blake separated from his lady. Their current location, as they neared the docks, afforded no privacy, and he refused to besmirch, in any way, the reputation of the woman he fully intended to marry. So he would wait. He would
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