DEVIL’S EMBRACE by Catherine Coulter

He shrugged and hunched more closely over the giant wheel. “One of the men, madonna, a new man, in fact, hired on just before we left Genoa. Capable enough, I suppose, and until last night, quiet to the point of being surly toward the other men. Unfortunately, he got his hands on a bottle of gin. Turned nasty he did and drew a knife on Arturo of all people. Claimed Arturo was feeding the crew swill fit only for pigs.” Mr. Donnetti shrugged again, philosophically. “I disarmed him, of course, but the captain had to be told.”

“What is the captain doing?”

“Twelve lashes. I’d throw the swine overboard myself.”

Cassie turned inadvertently toward the mainmast.

“Below-deck, madonna,” Francesco said, following her eyes. “The captain would not want you to witness the flogging.”

She gulped, remembering the sting of the earl’s belt upon her own back.

“What is the man’s name, Mr. Donnetti?”

“Luigi. I would not have hired him on save for the fact that the fellow came highly recommended from another trading captain. He does his work well enough, I suppose, and leaves the other men be, as a rule.”

When Cassie asked the earl about the incident at luncheon, he, like Mr. Donnetti, merely shrugged. “It was all quite unnecessary. The fellow should not drink spirits. He will recover soon enough, I would imagine.”

“You flogged him yourself?”

“Yes.” He shook his head, swirling his wine thoughtfully about in its glass. “Odd fellow. Whimpered like a coward but refused to take off his shirt. Left him with a bloody rag on his back.”

“However did Luigi get the drink?”

“From Arturo, if you will believe that. The fellow was mucking about in the galley and discovered Arturo’s stash.”

Cassie grinned. “I wonder now if Arturo put some of that vile stuff in my Yorkshire pudding.”

“If it would make you eat more, I shouldn’t dislike it.” His eyes traveled assessingly from her face to her breasts, thrust upward over the lace of her bodice. “Perhaps you are adding some pounds, my love.”

Cassie lowered her eyes to her glass of wine. It was true that her gowns had grown a trifle snug.

The earl tossed down the remainder of his wine and pushed back his chair. He sat back, and made himself at ease, crossing his arms over his chest and stretching his long legs with negligent grace. “It occurs to me, cara, that I did not keep my promise.”

“Promise, my lord?” She raised her eyes and saw a wide mocking grin on his face.

“I will examine your shoulder most thoroughly, though, before I proceed.”

“I shall toss my wine in your smug face if you do not cease speaking nonsense.” She raised her glass, as if readying to hurl it.

“Like that first night, Cassandra?” he asked, his voice thick with memory.

“Aye,” she said slowly, recalling now, vividly, the furious, terrified girl who had naught but foolish bravado.

“I prefer to remember our second night together.”

“I am certain you would, my lord. Will you now tell me how your precious Contessa Giusti—and she doubtless needed little encouragement—reveled in your marvelous masculine talents?”

“I do not think you would enjoy the telling.”

He walked to where she sat, and with a firm, careful motion, pulled down the gown from her shoulder and gently lifted the small bandage covering it. The wound was healing nicely. “Do you have any pain?”

“No, as you said, it was but a scratch.”

He let his hand travel slowly to her breasts. “Then it is time you paid the piper, madam. My promise. Do you not remember?”

She did remember and her eyes widened. “You would not, would you?”

She saw the caressing laughter in his dark eyes, and smiled impishly. “If ruthlessness is a part of your character, my lord, I suppose it would be unfair of me to break your spirit completely.”

Because she wanted to, he let her undress him. By the time he was naked, Cassie was red in the face from exertion. Because she was still on her knees in front of him, her inquisitive eyes had not far to travel to take in all of his body, and her face remained flushed for a different reason. “If I could look like you, my lord, I daresay I would not mind at all being a man.”

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