Read Island Flame for Free Online Page B

nodded off to sleep.
    She awoke with a start, almost thrown from her makeshift bed by a violent pitch of the ship. She peered around the cabin groggily, uncertain for the moment of where she was. The candle was guttering in its own tallow, and cast only a feeble glow over the room. A movement in one corner of the room caught her eye, and she stiffened with dismay. A tall, masculine form knelt with its back to her, rummaging through one of the sea chests. The captain! His hair was plastered to his skull with water, and hisclothes were soaking wet. He looked as though he had fallen overboard. Another violent heave of the ship, followed closely by a muffled crash of thunder, enlightened her. There was a storm, and he had been out in it. Cathy breathed a silent prayer of gratitude. With a storm to battle, at least he wouldn’t have time for her.
    Jon found what he was looking for in the chest and slammed the lid shut. He turned partially toward her and began stripping off his wet clothes, not even so much as glancing in her direction. It was as though he had forgotten her very existence. Cathy watched him through her lashes, carefully feigning sleep.
    His chest gleamed in the light of the candle, the dark mat of hair glistening with moisture. The muscles of his arms and chest rippled in the dim light as he tossed aside his shirt, and then he half turned away as he began to peel off his sopping breeches.
    Cathy felt hot color wash into her cheeks as she watched him undress, pick up a rough towel from the bed, and briskly rub himself dry. Seen from the back, he looked like a magnificent male animal with his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long, muscular legs. His back and shoulders were deeply tanned. The contrast between them and the skin lower down was startling. Blushing furiously, Cathy let her eyes wander downward to stare with fascination at his buttocks. They were well-muscled and taut looking, completely unlike her own rounded posterior. She imagined that they would be hard to the touch. … Cathy quickly shut her eyes, shamed to the bone by her own thoughts. She had never seen a naked man before, and that she could even look at one without swooning from the shock both frightened and amazedher. There had to be something wrong with her. A true lady would have fainted dead away at the sight.
    Jon stepped into a dry pair of breeches, fastened them, then turned, pulling on his shirt. He looked directly across the room at her still form huddled on the window seat. He grinned and moved toward her unhurriedly. The wench was trying to make him think she was asleep.
    Cathy saw him move in her direction, and hastily closed her eyes. She tried to make her breathing regular and deep as he bent over her. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he must hear it, and know she wasn’t asleep. She concentrated on her breathing, then started violently as she felt his arms slide around her. He swung her up in his arms, and she forced herself to go limp, desperately feigning sleep.
    Jon chuckled at her play, and carried her across the cabin to the bed. He lowered her gently to the mattress and stood looking at her. She looked so young and defenseless, with her eyes shut tight against him and her copper hair tumbling across the pillow. Her lips were parted and slightly moist, and the alluring curves of her body were clearly visible through the torn chemise, which was all she had on. Staring down at her, he felt desire, such as he had not known in a long time, rage through his body. His mouth went dry as he imagined crawling into bed with her and easing his lust in her soft flesh. A crash of thunder sobered him as he reluctantly remembered the storm and the lives that depended on his skill. He reached down and pulled the covers over her, then straightened.
    “Another time, my lady,” he said softly, and Cathy’s ears burned. Had he known she was not asleep, then? If so, why had he left her alone, and unmolested, in hisbed? Cathy