Read Online Swept Away By a Kiss by Katharine Ashe - Free Book Online Page A

beautiful, long fingers were white with strain as he dug into the hemp.
    Wrapped in confused, heady need, Valerie lifted her gaze past the taut angle of his jaw to his beautiful mouth. His lips were a thin line, his brow creased.
    “I am sorry,” she whispered.
    “For what? That you boarded the wrong merchantman in Boston? That sadistic madmen sail the Atlantic?” His voice was tight, his accent thicker than usual.
    Valerie’s insides shook with the strain of holding her legs still. It tortured him to touch her this way. His words and posture made that clear, but her body didn’t seem to care. She struggled not to press into his touch, to make the brief shock of delicious pleasure come again.
    “I have never apologized to a man before.”
    “I don’t doubt it.”
    She bit the inside of her mouth.
    “I know this is impossible, but you needn’t insult me.”
    “It was not an insult.”
    The knot fell loose. Etienne drew his hands away, exhaling audibly. Valerie’s gaze shot to his. He did not look at her, setting to work upon the ropes at her wrists. The perfunctory caress should not affect her more strongly than what had gone before. But somehow it did. In stunned silence she lost herself in his confident touch upon the backs of her hands and the insides of her wrists, all pretense of her self-control slipping away. Bathed in intimate heat, she ceased breathing.
    He finished, drawing the tethers from around her neck and hips. She gulped in tides of air and struggled to a sitting position. Hands striped with red marks and trembling, she smoothed her shift over her thighs and tucked her feet beneath her, her entire body aching.
    Etienne stood and turned to the window. He passed a palm over his face in a distracted gesture. His broad shoulders and back remained stiff, stretching the black fabric taut.
    Guilt seared Valerie, irrational, but painful all the same.
    “Thank you.”
    “Don’t.” The curt word cut across the small room.
    “You could have refused.”
    “And left you to his promised punishment tomorrow?” He looked over his shoulder at her. “What sort of man would that make me?”
    He was not saying what he wished. The heated glint in his amber eyes and the abruptly tempered tone of his rich voice told her so. She wished she knew the words to make him speak what he truly felt. But he held himself in harsh control again, impenetrable except for his entrancing eyes.
    She gathered herself to stand upon wobbly legs, grasping the headboard for support. Etienne unclasped the top buttons of his robe, then reached for the lamp and unhinged it from the table. He snuffed the flame between his fingers, plunging the cabin into shadows. Flexing her feet and arms to restore feeling, Valerie heard him separate the metal casing and oil dish from the bulb, then strike the glass upon the table. It broke with a dull clank.
    “Valerie.” Etienne’s voice came unexpectedly quiet in the dark. “I fear I have not been as careful of your sensibilities as I should tonight.”
    Valerie swallowed down her choke of astonishment.
    “I understand.”
    “I suspect you don’t, in point of fact. But that does not excuse me.”
    “I have put it behind me already,” she said, gripping the headboard, praying he could not hear her heart’s raucous pounding. “You will too, soon enough.”
    “Now who presumes to know the other?”
    He meant to ease the tension, but Valerie’s hands still shook. She took another full breath and words stumbled out.
    “I don’t know anything. I only hope.”
    A long silence stretched between them. In the shadows, Valerie felt the intensity of his gaze upon her, watchful and waiting.
    “Are you all right?” he finally asked.
    After a moment, she nodded. He gestured toward the bed.
    “You should rest now. Will you be able to?”
    Stepping over the ropes tangled upon the floor, Valerie lowered herself onto the mattress. She pushed the woolen blanket to him. Opening the coverlet, she slipped