Page 7 of A Countess Captured for the Captain
She scowled at him, but he was not about to let her be sullen and silent.
“I have told you,” she retorted, and he smiled.
“You have not, you have told me nothing. Tell me, or I shall toss you over the side of the ship,” he said.
His idle threat was enough to rouse her, and she drew herself up and fixed him with a harsh gaze.
“I was traveling with a man who was my lover, one of the men you saw fit to exile upon that island. I would rather be tossed over the side of this ship than succumb to you,” she said, and he smiled.
“You are certainly a challenge,” he replied, and Nox liked a challenge.
“I am not what you say I am. You do not know me, you know nothing,” she replied, and he could not help but think that she was playing a game with him.
“There is more to you than this. I will not believe your tale, and while you are onboard my ship you shall do as you are told,” he said, as she folded her arms.
In the ports of the Caribbean, he was both feared and respected. The arrival ofThe Rosa Mysticabrought out the women and scared away the men. He often boasted that he could have any woman he wished, though of all the women he had met, few measured up to his expectations. Nox was bored with harlots, their powdered faces and voluptuous breasts. They were all desirous of only one thing, and out to profit from their wares. But Samantha seemed different.
From her speech and mannerisms, he could not believe that she was merely the lover of a merchant, or the plaything of a midshipman. She had an aristocratic quality to her, one which attracted him. Perhaps it was the long months at sea, or the strange manner of their encounter, but his attraction to her was immediate. The thought of possessing her had aroused itself in his mind – though his honor prevented him from doing so. He would not behave as Strap suggested, even so, her presence in his cabin was enough to excite him, and his eyes lingered upon her as he continued to question her.
“I demand to know what you will do with me. You seem to delight in toying with possibility,” Samantha said, after she had evaded Nox’s questions with vague replies.
“You are on board my ship, should I not have a little fun?” he questioned.
“And what of the other men? What will happen when they know I am on board? Will they have their fun, too?” she asked, and he pondered for a moment.
It was true that his men were as equally starved of the company of women as he, and to discover that a woman was on board would no doubt elicit unsavory demands. Nox thought for a moment, knowing that unless he stowed Samantha back into the crate, it would be impossible to keep her hidden for long.
“You shall be under my protection,” he said, and she looked at him as though unsure whether this would be a favorable or unfavorable thing.
“Do I want it?” she asked, and he laughed.
“Come now, tell me the truth about who you are. I can tell you are not some common harlot, the lover of a merchant bound up in that awful trade triangle between the Mother Country and the Islands. You are too well spoken for that, tell me now, what is the truth?” he demanded, sitting back in his chair, and fixing her with a hard gaze.
Samantha sighed, and for a moment she seemed to falter, uncertain of what to say next.
“I… you will regret this, you will regret taking me captive like this,” she exclaimed, and he laughed.
“Had I not brought you on board, you would now find yourself at the bottom of the ocean or marooned upon an island. Granted, I was unaware of having taken you, but now that you are my… guest, I intend to extend you every courtesy,” he said, and Samantha blushed.
“I am still your prisoner,” she retorted.
“Have it your way,” he replied, rising to his feet, and taking her by the arm.
She struggled in his grip, and he let her go, stepping back and smiling at her.
“You are a brute,” she exclaimed, backing away from him, and he stepped forward and grabbed her again, this time holding her more firmly.
“Let me go,” she cried, and he pushed her back over one of the chests, so that he straddled her, their faces almost touching.
She smelled sweet, like the spices in the crate, her breasts heaving breathlessly as he caught her by the wrists.
“Perhaps I shall have my way with you, steal a kiss from you, possess you. For if you are a common harlot then it is of no matter what I do with you,” he said, and she blushed, turning her face away.
“I am no such thing, and you will not steal my honor,” she exclaimed, as he let go of her wrists, and snatched her around the waist.
“Then if you are not a harlot, tell me what you are,” he said, holding her in a tight embrace.
“I am a dangerous woman to toy with,” she declared.
