Page 88 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
What would he do when he discovered she was a woman? Judging by the lust growing in his eyes, she felt certain that wouldn’t stop him from attacking her.
His hand whipped up, catching her underneath her chin. Squeezing, he slammed her against the rear of the cage, his body pressed against hers, pinning her to the cold metal. His mouth moved against her ear, hissing, “I don’t have to ask. I could just takewhat I want.”
She twisted her head, glaring at him, willing every ounce of anger vibrating through her limbs to smack him in the face.
“I’m under Captain Shaw’s protection.”
“Are you?” He glanced around with exaggeration. “I see no man besides me.”
“There are witnesses.”
Her eyes flicked to the cage at the end of the room, where Woodford and Annesley stood, their horrified faces pressed against the slats.
“I’ll kill them.”
Woodford and Annesley disappeared, soft footsteps indicating their movement to the opposite side of the cage.
Leering, Mr. Evans ground himself into Alana’s pelvis, then frowned. Moving his free hand down her body, he reached out and grabbed the apex between her thighs. His jaw dropped, elation spreading across his face.
“MissusDubois?” Jerking her pants down, he shoved his rough fingers between her legs.
She punched him in the face, and Mr. Evans darted backward, his hands covering his nose as his eyes watered. Yanking up her pants, she covered herself, and darted away when he came toward her again, a vile grin appearing on his face.
“Mrs. Dubois, I would be willing to confirm your innocence for the crime of theft if you were to offer me certain favors.”
“Why would I do that?” she growled, raising her fists. “You know I didn’t take anything.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. The bray echoed, reverberating through the cargo hold, and slid down her spine.
She shuddered.
“It doesn’t matter what I know, it matters what I say.”
He strode forward, darting to the right, then the left, and trapped her in a corner, madness glowing in his black eyes.
“Since Captain Shaw has taken you aboard, he’s dismissed me from his favor. If he gives this ship to awomaninstead of me, after all the weeks I’ve worked aboard this wretched vessel…”
“You’re jealous?”
Of all the inane, ridiculous reasons for a man…
She flinched when Mr. Evans punched the cage.
“I’m notjealous,” he spat. His hand whipped out, his fingers tightening around her throat.
Choking, she clawed at his arm, tearing the skin with her fingernails, and kicked him in the shins.
He released her neck with a curse. Cradling his bleeding arm to his chest, he raised his opposite hand and smacked her across the face, drawing blood into her mouth. Then he dug his hardening erection into her pelvis, a sour grin splitting his face.
Grabbing her arms, he pinned them above her head and pressed himself closer, his rum-soaked breath brushing over her lips. “Do we have an accord, Mrs. Dubois… or would you rather die?”
“I’d rather die.”
His hand flew a second time, knocking her into the side of the cage, and she collapsed, moans pouring from her lips. Bending, he grabbed her shirt, twisting the material in his fist, and lifted her until her feet swung off the ground.
Before she could scream, he flung her toward the opposite side of the cage. She crashed into the iron slats, her bones cracking against the hard metal, then fell face-first to the deck. Agony stole her breath. Her limbs refused to cooperate. Terror coursed through her veins.
She couldn’t move!
