Read Elizabeth Meyette - [Love's 01] for Free Online Page A

you, Captain Brentwood. That would be fine.”
    As agreeable as supper had been in Jonathon’s cabin, the night was exquisite and Emily was happy to be out on deck. Stars were splashed across the sky like diamonds across black velvet, and a gentle breeze came from the southwest. Emily took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    “I love the sea,” she said as they walked along.
    “You are your father’s daughter,” Jonathon laughed.
    “How did you meet my father?”
    “George and I had seen each other many times in many ports. Our paths seemed destined to cross,” Jonathon mused. “I came across the Spirit being set upon by two pirate ships. They were either side of her, and she was hard-pressed to defend herself, let alone attack. We had the element of surprise on our side, and, together with the Spirit , we sank both pirate ships. Your father was seriously injured and the Spirit badly in need of repair. We brought George aboard the Destiny and Mr. Gates, a man of many talents, doctored him. Your father then rested with us while the Spirit was in port for repairs. We had long nights of discussion finding many similar likes and convictions. I admired your father a great deal, Emily. From then on when we met ashore, we made a point of continuing our friendship. He spoke of you and Andrew at length; he was very proud of you both, although he admitted that you could be a ‘spirited vixen’,” he laughed softly.
    Emily lifted her chin and looked away. “I thank you for helping him, Captain. He never spoke of the incident. We owe you a great deal it would seem, and all you get for your kindness is another burden.” She leaned against the rail and looked out at the sea. Emily did not like this feeling of indebtedness and wished somehow that she could free herself from the bond that tied her to this man. George Wentworth had prided himself on being a self-made man, answerable to no one. He had stressed the importance of independence to both of his children. Now, helpless to free herself of this shackle, she began to see how important that feeling of independence was.
    Jonathon stood next to her leaning sideways against the rail, studying her profile. “You owe me nothing, Emily, but I would ask one favor.”
    She stared ahead. What would he ask? Legally he held everything of hers, her property, and any wealth she might have inherited. What else was there for her to give? Suddenly Mrs. Dennings’s disapproving face loomed in her mind, and her cheeks took on a reddish hue. Angrily she turned to him.
    “Just what do you propose, sir?” she asked indignantly. “You see, I own very little with which to bargain. You hold everything material I have.”
    Realizing her train of thought, Jonathon’s gaze started at her face and lazily ran the full length of her. Emily pulled her cape closer, feeling as if he had seen through every article of clothing she was wearing.
    “You think me a rake, Miss Wentworth,” he stated. “What you value so highly is not to what I refer.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.
    “Oh!” she snapped, her eyes blazing. She turned back to the railing, her lips set in a tight line.
    “No, Emily, the favor I ask is this — that you give Virginia a chance. Look at her with an open heart; she is beautiful, Em. She is wild and spirited. Give her a chance.”
    The breeze teased the curls around Emily’s face and her blue eyes searched Jonathon’s.
    “That is what you would ask of me?” she whispered.
    Jonathon was caught with her beauty. No, she was not George Wentworth’s “Little Em” anymore. She was fast becoming that mature, independent woman she had hoped would rescue her from this situation. He had best watch himself or she might convince him, too. The tender look on her face tempted him sorely and her soft, full lips, parted in question, begged to be kissed. The feelings she was beginning to stir in him made Jonathon uneasy.
    “That is all for now, Miss Wentworth,” he leered