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eyes. Calum
stared at the hardwood door—the same one he’d kicked in five nights ago. What
the hell was he doing?
    He
ground his teeth and headed back to the quarterdeck. He needed the lady out of
his life. She was not his to care for. Worst of all, she had wed the enemy.
    ***
    Standing
behind the closed door of her stateroom, Anne held up the hand that he’d kissed
and brushed it against her cheek. Such a simple gesture—how did he make it so impassioned? She could still feel his
lips searing into her flesh. She pressed the hand to her mouth and kissed
it—kissed the very spot where his lips had been.
    Anne
held out her open hand and watched it tremble. How could he inflame her insides and captivate her thoughts? He was a pirate,
an outlaw. She closed her fist over her heart. After their argument, she’d
avoided him for days, tried to forget him. She nearly had except during the
night.
    The
dreams tortured her. She’d barely slept in the five nights of this voyage.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him—the powerful shoulders, the
chiseled features, the penetrating eyes that could turn her insides molten.
    Oh
how sinful her thoughts had been when she lay in her bed at night. Calum’s
infectious smile, his playful banter, and mostly, her dreams fixated on the
virile man presiding over the helm of the ship—a figure of command and power. Anne
clutched her fists against her stomacher. She should not allow herself to
entertain scandalous thoughts of Calum. The Church taught that a person could
sin with thoughts alone. She fanned herself. Oh no, she mustn’t allow him to
touch her again.
    What
a precarious situation this had become. Without Hanna to console her, Anne
wanted so desperately to be loved. Lord Wharton’s impersonal marriage left her
feeling like chattel. The baron had never held a chair for her, never enquired
as to how well she’d slept or held her hand and watched the sun set on the
horizon. Perhaps he will one day—and be
gentle like Calum?
    Anne
groaned, certain her mind had strayed due to her fear of meeting Lord Wharton— grandfather Wharton . Calum had said he
would ransom her. Ransom? Seek
payment for her, no less. Was that an act of an honorable man? Undeniably not .
    Anne
hoped Calum would send word to the baron soon, for she could not bear to remain
among these outlaws much longer. Their unsophisticated ways brought out a
restlessness she did not know existed within her.
    Always
the solid daughter in her family, Anne’s priorities were firmly grounded. She
must not allow these impulses to overrun her sensibilities. She was a married
woman. The reservations she had about her husband must be buried. She had a
responsibility to her family to protect her virtue and serve the lord who’d
asked for her hand in marriage and expected her to honor him.
    Anne
rubbed the back of her hand against her palm and wiped away the searing kiss.
She would block it from her mind. Calum’s heart could not have possibly
inflamed as hers had. He was so adept at courting, he must be well
practiced—most likely trifled with thousands of unsuspecting women.
    She
sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Calum was going to ransom her—he’d get
his money and he would move on to the next unsuspecting passenger when he
plundered her ship. Anne’s stomach churned when she considered there could be
another woman like herself in his future. Would
she be married by proxy too?
    Anne
shook her head. Once the ransom had been paid, she had little doubt Lord
Wharton would seek revenge. After all, the baron had been the Sheriff of
Cumberland and now maintained order for the Earl of Northumberland. Thomas. The name is so unfamiliar to me .
    “Calum.”
Anne spoke aloud, the L rolled off her tongue as she hummed the M. She liked
the sound of it.
    Would
Thomas see him hanged? She pictured Calum’s powerful neck swinging in a noose
and nearly wretched. A stream of cold sweat slid down her forehead.

Chapter