Page 47 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
“With that much pain, why would you choose to marry again?”
“Because there was so much more happiness.” She turned over to face him again. “Have you truly never been in love?”
“That wasn’t a luxury of mine.”
“That’s a pity. I fully recommend it.”
“You recommend marriage?”
“I recommend love. Marriage is difficult.”
Captain Shaw laughed. “Then, I hope you find what you desire.”
“You’re not going to shoot me?”
“Not today, but tomorrow is almost here. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to fall out of my graces when the sun rises.” He set the quill back in the inkwell, then folded the parchment, creasing the edges.
“Then you’ll murder me like you did Mr. Parker?”
“I didn’t kill Mr. Parker.”
“You allowed it.” She paused, a shudder rippling through her body as she remembered his death and Captain Shaw’s unusual reaction to it. She sat up. “But you didn’t approve.”
A thin line appeared on his mouth. “I don’t approve of those who refuse to follow directions.”
“How many men have you killed, Captain Shaw?”
“I don’t count,” he replied, setting the parchment on top of a stack of similarly folded pages.
Ransom letters.
Her gaze dropped to the pile. “Is there one in there for me?”
“Would that upset you?”
“Greatly.”
He stretched out the silence. “Since you’d rather talk than sleep, there are a few men aboard who are in need of medical assistance.”
She opened her mouth to refuse, but the anger blossoming on Captain Shaw’s face was enough to stop her argument.
“Why did you make them wait so long to receive care?”
Irritation rolled toward her. Captain Shaw rose from the chair and stalked toward her, his hands clenching into fists. Shrinking away from him, she scooted into the corner, snatching a pillow, and held the miniscule cushion up as a barrier between them.
“A pillow won’t protect you from me.”
“Neither did a knife.” Her eyes flicked to his arm.
Before she could react, his hand whipped out and closed around her throat, squeezing. Her hands flew to his. Gouging her fingernails into his skin, she kicked her legs, fighting to free herself from the iron grip.
“Do you think me a cruel master, Mr. Dubois? You do have choices.” He pinned her legs to the bed with his knees and leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “The hostages have beds.”
She tried to refuse, to push out the word ‘no’ with her last remaining breath, but the pressure on her throat increased, and blackness overtook her vision, blocking out the blazing brown of Captain Shaw’s merciless gaze.
* * *
A body-wracking shiver woke her,and she jerked awake with a gasp. Opening her eyes, she held in a moan, not wanting to alert Captain Shaw that she was awake.
