I almost ran directly into Captain Morrow in my haste to escape Roake’s advances. “You do not look terribly contrite,” Morrow said, catching me by the shoulders as I emerged from the cabin. It seemed that he had been waiting outside, perhaps with a mind to hearing my cries as Roake punished me. From the expression on his face I could see that the sounds he had heard had not satisfied his punitive urges. I was still flushed with the devilish arousal Roake had stirred in me and laying eyes on Morrow’s handsome person did not help it at all. I was learning that unsated lust was dangerous, for it cast about like an angry serpent looking for something to sink its fangs into. Captain Morrow was tall, broad, vital and his eyes flashed with the passion of the ocean as he glared down at me. “Has he been soft with you?” “Roake is a hard man, are you?” My reply was arch, perhaps even inappropriate. It certainly did not please the captain, for his eyes narrowed to blue flint and his jaw tightened as he made his response through nigh clenched teeth.
