Alessandra said, and Lucien nearly smiled when she pointedly lowered her gaze to Nicholas’s hips. Jezebel’s captain, more handsome than his cousin, though of less stature, said, “That you do, my lady.” Yanking up the hem of her skirt, Alessandra stepped from Lucien’s side, paused to catch her balance when the ship listed, and placed herself before the captain. “Given.” Frowning at her peculiar form of apology, Nicholas sent an eyebrow high and looked to his cousin. Lucien shrugged. Returning his gaze to the woman responsible for delaying his departure, Nicholas inclined his head. “Accepted, my lady.” “There is something else I owe you.” “Indeed?” She struck him across the face. “You are no gentleman, Captain Giraud.” Lucien struggled against the impulse to intervene as the imprint of her palm rose on his cousin’s cheek and the man’s hands curled into fists. Captain Nicholas Giraud, former corsair and, more recently, Christian-turned-renegade, was not one to allow such offenses to go unpunished—especially with his crew as witnesses.
