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his hands on either side of her chair to stare at her eye level. “I’ll have you in control of all your faculties. You will not cheat me out of what you bargained. You will feel me,” he brushed his finger over her bottom lip, “as I will feel you. And, dare I say, enjoy it as I will.”
    Her pupils dilated, but she did not break the hold.
    Cutler shoved off the chair and sat in his own across the table. “In your rash anguish to find your sister, you have made crucial miscalculations. First of which was seeking me out. But this you already know. Offering your body was unwise, to say the least, but while foxed, lass, you have insulted me.”
    “I...”
    He relaxed back into his chair and held up a silencing palm, ignoring how Rissa quaked with the pounding waves. “Alas, I know desperation leads even the wisest of men down foolish paths. You must love her deeply to risk so much for her.”
    Graciela, her parted lips trembling, nodded once.
    “Tell me about her.”
    “Wouldn’t you be more interested in the gold?”
    “There will be time for talk of that later. What is her name?”
    “Sarah.” Her eyes dropped to her lap. “I look nothing like her. Tall, raven-haired, voluptuous figure. Desired by many, feared by all. I lack all her beauty, cunning, and courage.”
    Bah. Cutler doubted that. She had all those traits. Well, except for height. Such a tiny thing.
    “The rumors made her out to be a wicked monster. Death had blanketed Santo Domingo and they blamed her. So many lives lost.” She sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “‘Let them fear me,’ she had said. ‘They will leave us alone to live in peace.’ Even then she knew we’d never be at peace.”
    Cutler remembered hearing of an outbreak in the port town. He and the brethren stayed away until the threat was over. They had enough illnesses on board and none wanted to chance losing men to plague.
    “’Twas Jacob’s fault.”
    “Jacob?”
    “She loved him.” Her focus dissolved into another time, another place. “I was sweeping out the cottage when he came calling one afternoon with two of his friends. I tried to send him away, told him she was out picking herbs. I’ll never forget the toothy grin he gave the others.” A tear slid down her cheek. “He forced his way inside, grabbed me, demanded I tell him about the gold, that he had enough dallying around, waiting for Sarah to reveal it to him. I refused to tell him anything. He said he’d get something out of me, if not the nugget’s whereabouts.”
    The poor lass shuddered and swiped at another tear, paying no notice to the ship rolling to the port on a large wave.
    “I fought him. As sure as I sit here, I fought him. But I didn’t possess the strength to push him off. I begged for help. His friends remained outside laughing and calling out crude encouragements.”
    Cutler’s clenched hand stung and he realized his nails were digging into his palm.
    “So I screamed and screamed. He tried to shut me up by smothering me with his greasy mouth, but I bit his lip. That’s when Jacob hit me.”
    His temper flared, increasing with the howling winds buffeting against his window.
    “The vile pig didn’t get very far. Only ripped my clothing when Sarah burst in. They struggled and she took a good beating. I jumped on Jacob’s back slapping at him to stop hurting her. He flung back, smashing me into the wall. Sarah grabbed the fireplace poker and struck him with it. Put a nasty gash into his side. She chased him outside, pointing her finger, yelling after him as they ran away that he would pay dearly for what he had done. Two days later, he got the fever. He was the first in Santo Domingo to die.”
    Cutler grimaced. People were quick to place blame. It must have been hell for Graciela and her sister to be accused by the whole town for the plague.
    “She protected me,” Graciela whispered. “We were all we had—each other.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said.
    Her focus sharpened,