Page 9 of The Pirate's Stolen Bride
“Kidnapping me.”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” He chuckled.
“No.”
“Drink your tea, chérie. It will help your lungs.”
“My lungs?” Harriet stared at the dark liquid.
“The water you inhaled might have caused damage. This will help.” He drank his, which encouraged her to sip her own. The tea had a slippery feeling on her tongue. No bitterness. There was, if anything, a slightly sweet aftertaste. She added a lump of sugar anyway.
Her stomach rumbled. Her throat hurt.
“What time is it?” Harriet asked, her sentence punctuated by a painful fit of coughing.
“Around two in the morning.” His shoulder lifted and fell. She registered the weariness etched in his face and limbs. When was the last time this man had rested? “We will reach land by dawn.”
“What happens then?”
Rémy held her eye. “What do you want to happen?”
“I want you to take me back to Cavalier Cove. My uncle must be going out of his mind with worry.”
Something in his expression closed off. The change was subtle. She felt like she had just unceremoniously rejected a lovelorn suitor.
Which was the height of absurdity. He’d kidnapped her! What else was she supposed to want, other than to go home?
But where was her home, now? Certainly not Acton Heath. Definitely not London, either. The question weighed heavily in her mind.
“I will send word to your uncle as soon as I can safely do so.”
“What will you do with me?”
“Leave you at an inn, most likely.” He shrugged.
“This has been very unfair of you, you know.”
“What has?” her captor asked innocently.
“Kidnapping me.”
“I didn’t kidnap you, your ladyship. Irescuedyou.”
She gaped at him in astonishment. Thearroganceof this man!
CHAPTER FIVE
BOO HOO, POOR YOU
“Ididn’t need rescuing!” Harriet exclaimed. Rémy’s knee knocked against hers. He shifted to sit back in his seat with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. Heat rose to her cheeks as the memory of his naked back flashed through her mind.
Ladies did not ogle pirates. She was ashamed of herself. Or she should be. It was rather difficult to summon any sense of shame when she was righteously furious with the handsome scoundrel.
She groaned inwardly. Her mind was clearly intent upon betraying her by refusing to ignore her captor’s attractiveness.
“Don’t lie, your ladyship. When you told Maggie about your marriage, you looked ready to cry. ‘I am to be married. He’s taking me to Ireland.’” The monster feigned tears. “Boo hoo, poor you.”
She kicked his shin again, harder this time.
