Read Online Silver Storm (The Raveneau Novels #1) by Cynthia Wright - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cynthia Wright
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buckets held at least five gallons of the steaming water,
she discovered, which splashed over the sides and onto her feet as
she staggered along. It was a mystery to her why any man as
intelligent as the captain would choose a little weakling to fill
his bath! Didn't he realize how difficult it would be? Or was he
just so preoccupied with his own comfort and worries that he had no
time to think of anyone else?
Perspiring, she upended the fourth bucket and
watched with relief as the water level rose. One or two more would
be enough. Devon almost growled at the wide shoulders bent over the
desk, their owner totally oblivious to her suffering as he labored
over a chart, aided by a handsome brass protractor.
I'll fill just one more, she decided angrily.
Let him get more if he wants it!
Arms quivering, she lugged the fifth
bucketful along the starboard gangway. Her breeches and shoeless
feet were soaked by the time she staggered into the cabin, close to
tears. She glanced up and found the tub occupied by Captain
Raveneau.
He was completely naked, his tanned, muscular
back wet and gleaming in the candlelight. Absorbed in the task of
washing, he didn't bother to look up and missed the sight of Devon
weaving sideways into the wall, her eyes round with alarmed
surprise.
"Will you hurry with that water, James? I'd
begun to think you were ladling it into the bucket with a
teaspoon! " he shouted, looking over his shoulder with steely
eyes. "I am freezing!"
Devon's knees were wobbly, but she commanded
them to move and reached the tub. It took all her remaining
strength to lift the bucket high enough to pour. Raveneau sighed
with pleasure as the steamy water encircled his body; then he
frowned and re- soaped his sponge.
"You are as slow as an old woman. I'm not
certain that there is a place for you in my crew."
Devon came to life. "Oh, sir, no, please! I
will work hard, I promise you! Don't put me off—I have no place to
go!"
"James, if I took on every homeless boy
roaming this coast, I would not have much of a crew."
"Please, give me a chance!"
Her earnest expression deepened his scowl.
"You even plead like a female," he muttered. "Make yourself useful,
then, and wash my back."
Aghast, Devon felt the soapy sponge drop into
her hand. He had propped a large map in the chair nearby and now
turned his attention to it, while Devon found herself staring at
the brown expanse of back that tapered into narrow hips and hard
buttocks below the waterline. Never in her life had she seen, much
less touched, a man's unclothed body, but before the captain could
reprimand her again, she reached out to rub the sponge over his
skin.
Fleetingly, the face of the soldier who had
tried to rape her jumped into her mind, yet Devon could make no
connection between him and Captain Raveneau. Of course, she would
not want any man to touch her as Smythe had, but there
seemed little danger now that she was dressed as a boy! She rubbed
the sponge from side to side, watching the soapy rivulets trickle
over the lean ridges of Raveneau's back. A splendidly made man, she
mused, then chided herself for such an audacious thought. He turned
to retrieve the sponge and Devon scrambled to her feet, standing
awkwardly to one side as he ducked his head under the water. He
rubbed soap into his hair; dark hands were lost in the suds. Devon
saw that his eyes were closed and she let herself stare at him,
memorizing every chiseled line. She glanced down briefly at the
dark blur in the water below his waist, then blushed so profusely
that she had to press her cheek against the cool, damp
bulkhead.
Raveneau finished rinsing his hair. Devon
looked around for towels and found soft linen ones folded on top of
his trunk, elegantly monogrammed. He stood up in the wooden tub,
and she glimpsed a lean, tanned, and powerful body with a great
deal of black hair on it.
Taking the towels, Raveneau said in a voice
both tired and abrupt, "Go to bed. We will weigh anchor in a
she discovered, which splashed over the sides and onto her feet as
she staggered along. It was a mystery to her why any man as
intelligent as the captain would choose a little weakling to fill
his bath! Didn't he realize how difficult it would be? Or was he
just so preoccupied with his own comfort and worries that he had no
time to think of anyone else?
Perspiring, she upended the fourth bucket and
watched with relief as the water level rose. One or two more would
be enough. Devon almost growled at the wide shoulders bent over the
desk, their owner totally oblivious to her suffering as he labored
over a chart, aided by a handsome brass protractor.
I'll fill just one more, she decided angrily.
Let him get more if he wants it!
Arms quivering, she lugged the fifth
bucketful along the starboard gangway. Her breeches and shoeless
feet were soaked by the time she staggered into the cabin, close to
tears. She glanced up and found the tub occupied by Captain
Raveneau.
He was completely naked, his tanned, muscular
back wet and gleaming in the candlelight. Absorbed in the task of
washing, he didn't bother to look up and missed the sight of Devon
weaving sideways into the wall, her eyes round with alarmed
surprise.
"Will you hurry with that water, James? I'd
begun to think you were ladling it into the bucket with a
teaspoon! " he shouted, looking over his shoulder with steely
eyes. "I am freezing!"
Devon's knees were wobbly, but she commanded
them to move and reached the tub. It took all her remaining
strength to lift the bucket high enough to pour. Raveneau sighed
with pleasure as the steamy water encircled his body; then he
frowned and re- soaped his sponge.
"You are as slow as an old woman. I'm not
certain that there is a place for you in my crew."
Devon came to life. "Oh, sir, no, please! I
will work hard, I promise you! Don't put me off—I have no place to
go!"
"James, if I took on every homeless boy
roaming this coast, I would not have much of a crew."
"Please, give me a chance!"
Her earnest expression deepened his scowl.
"You even plead like a female," he muttered. "Make yourself useful,
then, and wash my back."
Aghast, Devon felt the soapy sponge drop into
her hand. He had propped a large map in the chair nearby and now
turned his attention to it, while Devon found herself staring at
the brown expanse of back that tapered into narrow hips and hard
buttocks below the waterline. Never in her life had she seen, much
less touched, a man's unclothed body, but before the captain could
reprimand her again, she reached out to rub the sponge over his
skin.
Fleetingly, the face of the soldier who had
tried to rape her jumped into her mind, yet Devon could make no
connection between him and Captain Raveneau. Of course, she would
not want any man to touch her as Smythe had, but there
seemed little danger now that she was dressed as a boy! She rubbed
the sponge from side to side, watching the soapy rivulets trickle
over the lean ridges of Raveneau's back. A splendidly made man, she
mused, then chided herself for such an audacious thought. He turned
to retrieve the sponge and Devon scrambled to her feet, standing
awkwardly to one side as he ducked his head under the water. He
rubbed soap into his hair; dark hands were lost in the suds. Devon
saw that his eyes were closed and she let herself stare at him,
memorizing every chiseled line. She glanced down briefly at the
dark blur in the water below his waist, then blushed so profusely
that she had to press her cheek against the cool, damp
bulkhead.
Raveneau finished rinsing his hair. Devon
looked around for towels and found soft linen ones folded on top of
his trunk, elegantly monogrammed. He stood up in the wooden tub,
and she glimpsed a lean, tanned, and powerful body with a great
deal of black hair on it.
Taking the towels, Raveneau said in a voice
both tired and abrupt, "Go to bed. We will weigh anchor in a
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