The Black Morass (Pirates of the Coast Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Barbara Devlin
scandal sheets and end all hope for a match. To know I will never achieve my dream breaks my heart.”
“You do not think you overestimate the circumstances, given you were marooned, in a sense, and had no choice but to avail yourself of my hospitality? Or would it have been better had you gone down with the ship?” In that instant, she seemed preoccupied with his bare chest. “Do you believe my men and I mingle in polite society and spread gossip, as I can assure you we do not move in such circles?”
“No.” When he unhooked his breeches, she met his stare. “What are you doing?”
“I am going to bathe.” Quick as a flash, she turned toward the door, and he stripped off the last of his clothing. “And that is why I requested your attendance.”
“Oh?” Stiffening her spine, she trembled. “But I am not sure what your personal habits have to do with me.”
“You will scrub my back.” A bar of soap and a sponge rested on the washstand, and Jean Marc retrieved the items before sinking beneath the water. “We have an agreement, and I hold you to it, Maddie. Whether or not you prefer it, we struck an honest bargain, and you will serve me.” The pet name came to him as if from nowhere, and he braced for another outburst. Standing in the middle of his cabin, she all but filled the space with her presence, and he awaited her response. Would she acquiesce, or would he throw her to the sharks? Growing impatient, he sighed. “My bath cools, Mon Chou . So what is it to be—the sponge or the plank?”
For a few minutes, she remained mute and stock-still. At last, she whirled about, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. “The plank.”
#
Perched at an impasse, tension invested her frame, as Madalene challenged the captain and tried to ignore his nudity, but never had she glimpsed a naked man, and curiosity beckoned.
Praying for deliverance, for some small measure of compassion from a rogue who seemed bent on unutterable destruction of her character, she clung to the last vestige of hope for survival. But if he tossed her into the ocean, at least she would die, integrity intact, on her terms—not those of a pirate.
“You prefer the company of sharks to mine?” To her dismay, he stormed in her direction, but she held her ground.
“From my perspective, there is little difference, sir.” Yes, she intentionally disobeyed Jean Marc’s command, as she had nothing to lose.
When he burst into laughter, she jumped but focused her attention on his gaze. “I can see this crossing will be nothing if not entertaining, but you will remain in my cabin, as my guest, and in that I will abide no objection.”
“Why?” The prospect terrified her, as she conjured all sorts of horrible fates. “What have I done to you, in our brief acquaintance?”
“You have to ask?” She did not understand his query. As if they were old friends, sharing countless personal secrets, he retraced his steps, baring a stunning backside that left her clutching her throat, and eased into the tub, and she almost swooned. Then he picked up the bar of soap. “Now you will scrub my back.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I will not.”
“You gave me your word, as a lady, that you would serve me in exchange for passage to Port Royal.” Canting his head, he narrowed his stare. “How did you put it? Ah, yes, I remember. You said you coveted compromise and would do your best to perform to my satisfaction, in whatever I commanded of you.” He snorted. “So your word means nothing to you?”
“It means everything, as I am a Davies.” And he was correct in his assertion, as she said that. But never had she anticipated he would ask so much. “I should have qualified the conditions of our arrangement, as I negotiated in good faith and believed the same of you. And I still do not understand why I must share an accommodation.”
“First, this is
“You do not think you overestimate the circumstances, given you were marooned, in a sense, and had no choice but to avail yourself of my hospitality? Or would it have been better had you gone down with the ship?” In that instant, she seemed preoccupied with his bare chest. “Do you believe my men and I mingle in polite society and spread gossip, as I can assure you we do not move in such circles?”
“No.” When he unhooked his breeches, she met his stare. “What are you doing?”
“I am going to bathe.” Quick as a flash, she turned toward the door, and he stripped off the last of his clothing. “And that is why I requested your attendance.”
“Oh?” Stiffening her spine, she trembled. “But I am not sure what your personal habits have to do with me.”
“You will scrub my back.” A bar of soap and a sponge rested on the washstand, and Jean Marc retrieved the items before sinking beneath the water. “We have an agreement, and I hold you to it, Maddie. Whether or not you prefer it, we struck an honest bargain, and you will serve me.” The pet name came to him as if from nowhere, and he braced for another outburst. Standing in the middle of his cabin, she all but filled the space with her presence, and he awaited her response. Would she acquiesce, or would he throw her to the sharks? Growing impatient, he sighed. “My bath cools, Mon Chou . So what is it to be—the sponge or the plank?”
For a few minutes, she remained mute and stock-still. At last, she whirled about, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. “The plank.”
#
Perched at an impasse, tension invested her frame, as Madalene challenged the captain and tried to ignore his nudity, but never had she glimpsed a naked man, and curiosity beckoned.
Praying for deliverance, for some small measure of compassion from a rogue who seemed bent on unutterable destruction of her character, she clung to the last vestige of hope for survival. But if he tossed her into the ocean, at least she would die, integrity intact, on her terms—not those of a pirate.
“You prefer the company of sharks to mine?” To her dismay, he stormed in her direction, but she held her ground.
“From my perspective, there is little difference, sir.” Yes, she intentionally disobeyed Jean Marc’s command, as she had nothing to lose.
When he burst into laughter, she jumped but focused her attention on his gaze. “I can see this crossing will be nothing if not entertaining, but you will remain in my cabin, as my guest, and in that I will abide no objection.”
“Why?” The prospect terrified her, as she conjured all sorts of horrible fates. “What have I done to you, in our brief acquaintance?”
“You have to ask?” She did not understand his query. As if they were old friends, sharing countless personal secrets, he retraced his steps, baring a stunning backside that left her clutching her throat, and eased into the tub, and she almost swooned. Then he picked up the bar of soap. “Now you will scrub my back.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I will not.”
“You gave me your word, as a lady, that you would serve me in exchange for passage to Port Royal.” Canting his head, he narrowed his stare. “How did you put it? Ah, yes, I remember. You said you coveted compromise and would do your best to perform to my satisfaction, in whatever I commanded of you.” He snorted. “So your word means nothing to you?”
“It means everything, as I am a Davies.” And he was correct in his assertion, as she said that. But never had she anticipated he would ask so much. “I should have qualified the conditions of our arrangement, as I negotiated in good faith and believed the same of you. And I still do not understand why I must share an accommodation.”
“First, this is
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