flutter of something—foreboding, probably—ran across her skin. A lieutenant. Of course. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to reveal his identity. “That carries a good deal of responsibility,” she observed. To Captain Warre especially.
“It does.”
“Tell me about your relationship with Captain Warre.”
He considered that. “I’m not sure we had a ‘relationship,’ per se.”
“Don’t be obtuse,” she said irritably. “You must have worked very closely with him.”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“Did you consider him a friend?”
“I wouldn’t use that word exactly, no.”
“You disliked him, then.”
“At times.”
“Disobeyed him?”
“Never.”
“You agreed with his decisions?”
“I’ll admit to having reservations about a great many of them, but generally, yes.”
Of course he had. “You are as ruthless as he was, then.” Lieutenant Barclay looked ruthless. And hard, and uncompromising, and shrewd. The half-delirious unfortunate they had pulled from the water was gone.
“I suppose we shared certain traits, but I’m not sure ruthlessness is one of them. Resolute, perhaps.”
She made a noise. “If you call Captain Warre’s tactics ‘resolute’ then you most certainly do share his penchant for ruthlessness. The captain’s reputation for being unmerciful at the helm is well-known.”
“I should hope so, given that his job was to win battles—not lose them.” He rose to his feet and went to the bureau for water. “I have the distinct impression you don’t care for Captain Warre,” he said, watching her in the looking glass. “Do you know him well?”
“I know enough.”
He drank deeply and set down the mug. “Have you met him?”
“You could say I’ve had an encounter with him.”
One of his dark brows ticked upward.
“A maritime encounter,” she said sharply.
“Naturally.” He came toward her, reached past her for his waistcoat. His arm touched her knee.
She put her foot on the floor. “You must have been a terrible thorn in Captain Warre’s side.”
“Eternally.”
That made her smile. Just as quickly, desire began to smolder in his eyes. He did not back away as he shrugged into the waistcoat. Her smile faded, and that renegade nerve quickened in her belly again. She glanced brazenly at the front of his borrowed trousers but found no inappropriate salute to her authority.
“As you can see, Captain,” he drawled, “along with my renewed strength has come a measure of control.” His eyes wandered over her, and she felt them like hands.
She looked him in the eye and allowed the corners of her lips to curve upward. “I’m relieved to hear it. I would hate for you to spend the entire voyage in a state of torment.”
“Indeed,” he said dryly. “It’s been clear from the beginning that my comfort is your utmost concern.”
“Your lack of gratitude makes me wonder if I should have left the shackles on, after all. And let me be clear on one point—certain kinds of comfort are not available aboard this ship.”
“I will endeavor to contain my disappointment.” Boredom dripped from his tongue, but his eyes burned hot. He may have succeeded in controlling his anatomy, but in his thoughts he was doing with her exactly as he pleased.
She laughed derisively to suppress a shiver. “You will contain much more than that, or you will meet the end of my cutlass.” She went to the door. “I shall send up some pie.”
“Wait.” The command shot across the cabin—not a request, but a demand.
She spun on her heel. “Do not speak to me in that tone, Lieutenant Barclay.” She was across the room in a heartbeat, face-to-face with him. “You are no lieutenant here, and I am your captain now.”
“If I am your prisoner, then you are my gaoler,” he countered. “Not my captain. I only meant to ask whether I may expect to spend the entire voyage locked away.”
“Perhaps you will, and for good reason,” she said, even though she’d already decided there would be little point to it. “For one thing, since we took you aboard my ship, you have demonstrated a difficulty in controlling your baser instincts.”
He gave a laugh.
“Moreover, you’ve shown yourself to be a liar. But most damning of all, far from being the insubordinate you claimed, it would seem that you and Captain Warre were practically of one mind. You are therefore complicit with him, and that alone makes me wish I did have a rack in the lower hold.”
“It sounds as if I should be thankful that you at least removed the shackles.” He raised his wrist, rubbing it. The motion brought his hands a hairsbreadth from her breasts, a closeness she wished she hadn’t noticed.
“There was some sincerity in that commendation.”
His calculating gaze narrowed. “What if I told you that Captain Warre was the soddingest bastard I ever set eyes on, and that if he were here right now I would heartily recommend that you do your worst?”
Katherine laughed and took the opportunity to move away. “I would say you’re a very smart man indeed, Mr. Barclay, with high marks in self-preservation.” He reeked of danger, but at least he was entertaining.
“Then consider it my unswerving opinion, and leave the door unlocked when you go.”
“I will give it my most thoughtful consideration. Good day, Lieutenant Barclay.” She let herself into the passageway, closed the door and paused, recovering from the effects of his smile. He would never succeed in overthrowing her command even should he attempt it. And he wasn’t a threat to Anne. No, the danger he presented was more in the area of Phil’s expertise.
Soddingest bastard, indeed.
She walked away without bolting the latch.
“IT’S THE MOST reckless thing you’ve ever done,” Phil declared the next evening as they lounged in the great cabin. “He left his door propped open all morning, and the sight of him lying abed was a terrible torment.” The gleam in her eyes made it clear she hoped to bait Katherine into acknowledging Lieutenant Barclay’s appeal. It wouldn’t work.
“It’s
