Read Online Till Dawn Tames the Night by Meagan McKinney - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meagan McKinney
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deck was devoid of everyone, even of sailors.
"You really are a sour little prig, Miss Dayne. Has anyone ever told you that?"
She stared up at him, trying with all her might to erase the shocked look on her face. He was so close she could see just how savage and handsome he was with his long jet black hair and harsh classic features. He was so close she could smell him. And his scent was akin to the sea, fresh, exhilarating, mysterious. Much too heady, like a sip of fine wine, and she wasn't at all sure if she should have more.
Yet, while his grasping her arm was bad enough, calling her a prig was beyond redemption. Miss Gideon was a prig. John was a prig. She was a lady of adventure.
But, then again, perhaps not.
She looked up at him, and when her frightened aqua eyes met his taunting green ones, she was beset by doubts. A lady of adventure would know how to put this man off. A lady of adventure would scoff at him, as she had read in countless novels. The lady would set him in his place and move on to greater challenges. She, on the other hand, seemed only to goad him on.
"Please—please, let go of my arm," she whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. "I really must go."
"Miss Dayne, is the only way I can talk to you to lock you in my cabin?"
Her eyes opened even wider.
"Well, is it?"
"No, not at all," she choked out.
"Good." Suddenly he dropped his hold. "For such a timid little wren you certainly can be trying. I suppose you weren't given that touch of red in your hair for nothing."
Self-consciously she tucked her hair further into her bonnet. She did her best to compose herself before she asked, "So what is it you wish to speak to me about, sir?"
He smiled at her pointed address. It was as if he could read her mind and see how he terrified her. She prickled beneath his stare. The man really was infuriating.
"Miss Dayne, Captain Corbeil and I have invited Mrs. Lindstrom to dinner tonight in my cabin and we were hoping you would join us. I can promise only the best cuisine. My chef was tutored by Careme , and he makes all his finest dishes for me."
"I'm not sure that is the proper—"
"I assure you it is quite proper," he interrupted. "Mrs. Lindstrom is certainly a sufficient chaperon for such a paragon of virtue as yourself ."
His sarcasm was not lost on her, but she was determined not to let it bother her. "Yes, I suppose Mrs. Lindstrom would be fine, but—"
"But how do you know she'll be there?" He almost laughed. "Well, why don't you scurry away to her cabin and ask her? I'm sure she'll set your mind at ease. Besides, unlike you, she's rather taken with me. I think she'll persuade you to come if just to ease the boredom of this voyage . . . and assuage a little of that bald curiosity she has about me."
She couldn't help but bristle, particularly at the word "scurry." She didn't scurry. Did she?
Coolly she said, "I suppose if Mrs. Lindstrom is attending, it would be all right for me to be there. Since I do consider Captain Corbeil quite the gentleman, I'm sure the evening will be conducted with propriety." She dared a glance up at him. She'd hoped he'd understood the comment about Captain Corbeil. When he began to laugh, she was quite certain. Though instead of besting him, she herself felt bested.
"Why not come to my cabin and let me tell you a few stories about Isaac Corbeil?" He chuckled. "Perhaps I can change your mind."
"I think not. I am a good judge of character." She gave him a look that should have left no doubt in his mind what she had judged him to be. Again, infuriatingly, he laughed.
"You win, Miss Dayne, but you'll still come to dinner?" His mouth turned in a slight smirk.
"I shall be there."
"Seven o'clock?"
"Seven o'clock." She nodded and turned to go.
"Miss Dayne?"
She froze. She wasn't going to let him grab her again. She had never been grabbed by a man in her life and she was not about to let him make a habit of it. "Yes?" she said warily.
"I heard what you said to
"You really are a sour little prig, Miss Dayne. Has anyone ever told you that?"
She stared up at him, trying with all her might to erase the shocked look on her face. He was so close she could see just how savage and handsome he was with his long jet black hair and harsh classic features. He was so close she could smell him. And his scent was akin to the sea, fresh, exhilarating, mysterious. Much too heady, like a sip of fine wine, and she wasn't at all sure if she should have more.
Yet, while his grasping her arm was bad enough, calling her a prig was beyond redemption. Miss Gideon was a prig. John was a prig. She was a lady of adventure.
But, then again, perhaps not.
She looked up at him, and when her frightened aqua eyes met his taunting green ones, she was beset by doubts. A lady of adventure would know how to put this man off. A lady of adventure would scoff at him, as she had read in countless novels. The lady would set him in his place and move on to greater challenges. She, on the other hand, seemed only to goad him on.
"Please—please, let go of my arm," she whispered, hating how small her voice sounded. "I really must go."
"Miss Dayne, is the only way I can talk to you to lock you in my cabin?"
Her eyes opened even wider.
"Well, is it?"
"No, not at all," she choked out.
"Good." Suddenly he dropped his hold. "For such a timid little wren you certainly can be trying. I suppose you weren't given that touch of red in your hair for nothing."
Self-consciously she tucked her hair further into her bonnet. She did her best to compose herself before she asked, "So what is it you wish to speak to me about, sir?"
He smiled at her pointed address. It was as if he could read her mind and see how he terrified her. She prickled beneath his stare. The man really was infuriating.
"Miss Dayne, Captain Corbeil and I have invited Mrs. Lindstrom to dinner tonight in my cabin and we were hoping you would join us. I can promise only the best cuisine. My chef was tutored by Careme , and he makes all his finest dishes for me."
"I'm not sure that is the proper—"
"I assure you it is quite proper," he interrupted. "Mrs. Lindstrom is certainly a sufficient chaperon for such a paragon of virtue as yourself ."
His sarcasm was not lost on her, but she was determined not to let it bother her. "Yes, I suppose Mrs. Lindstrom would be fine, but—"
"But how do you know she'll be there?" He almost laughed. "Well, why don't you scurry away to her cabin and ask her? I'm sure she'll set your mind at ease. Besides, unlike you, she's rather taken with me. I think she'll persuade you to come if just to ease the boredom of this voyage . . . and assuage a little of that bald curiosity she has about me."
She couldn't help but bristle, particularly at the word "scurry." She didn't scurry. Did she?
Coolly she said, "I suppose if Mrs. Lindstrom is attending, it would be all right for me to be there. Since I do consider Captain Corbeil quite the gentleman, I'm sure the evening will be conducted with propriety." She dared a glance up at him. She'd hoped he'd understood the comment about Captain Corbeil. When he began to laugh, she was quite certain. Though instead of besting him, she herself felt bested.
"Why not come to my cabin and let me tell you a few stories about Isaac Corbeil?" He chuckled. "Perhaps I can change your mind."
"I think not. I am a good judge of character." She gave him a look that should have left no doubt in his mind what she had judged him to be. Again, infuriatingly, he laughed.
"You win, Miss Dayne, but you'll still come to dinner?" His mouth turned in a slight smirk.
"I shall be there."
"Seven o'clock?"
"Seven o'clock." She nodded and turned to go.
"Miss Dayne?"
She froze. She wasn't going to let him grab her again. She had never been grabbed by a man in her life and she was not about to let him make a habit of it. "Yes?" she said warily.
"I heard what you said to
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