The Jezebel (Taskill Witches 3)

He looked at her meaningfully.

Maisie saw that her arousal had affected him, too, or perhaps mention of him having her the night before. From under heavy-lidded eyes he looked at her, his lips tightly pursed as if he was holding back from kissing her.

That would be a terrible error, if his intention was to shield his men from her femininity aboard ship. “I did not mean to be a burden to you.”

“What you are is a temptation, and it is bad enough that I succumbed.” The hungry look he gave her aroused her so much that she swayed toward him.

“I did not think it bad.”

His eyebrows lifted. “’Tis good to see you so much less burdened, Miss Maisie. You have a beautiful smile.”

“Why, thank you, Captain Roderick,” she whispered.

He leaned closer. “May I perhaps take credit for bringing that smile to your lovely face?”

Laughing softly, she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “If you mean to ask about your lovemaking, then yes, I find I am a woman fulfilled since our encounter.”

His lips curled and his eyes gleamed.

How attractive his mouth was. Maisie ached to kiss it, and his stubbled chin made her want to clasp his jaw as she did so. It was far too easy to banter amorously with him and fan the flames of their mutual interest. Dangerous, too, perhaps. She should be thinking about safe passage to Dundee, about concealing her identity and planning for the onward journey, not about bedding the captain once more. However, his rugged, brazen masculinity made her want to wrap her arms around him and insist he take her back to his quarters to pleasure her again. What am I thinking, acting this way?

Apparently they were equally dangerous to each other, because when she glanced over his shoulder she could see the eyes of all the shipmen were riveted to the pair of them standing by the railing, barely holding back their desire for one another. Their conversation was causing great interest, which was quite the opposite of Roderick’s intention. Maisie felt she must redeem the situation, or he would soon realize that himself, and become grumpy with her once more.

“Captain, set me to work and be quick about it, for you are making the situation even more of a temptation than it already was.” She gave him a warning glance to indicate that she was also being affected by their exchange.

A wry smile passed over his face. “On that point we are both agreed. It seems we are well matched in carnal matters.” He turned away in order to escort her across the deck, but lowered his voice as he did so, ducking down to add a final comment. “In fact, I look forward to working off this mutual temptation later, when we’re alone.”

His promise made Maisie breathless, and she almost stumbled as she anticipated what might pass between them later that day. Before she had a chance to respond, he gripped her upper arm with one hand, directing her across the deck.

All eyes were upon them.

As they walked, Roderick issued orders to the men nearby, sending them scurrying back to their tasks. Maisie noticed that most of them were barefoot, as if it was safer to be that way as they went about their duties on the decks or clambered up the poles and ropes.

Grappling for an appropriate comment, she gestured at a man pacing up and down the deck, dragging a broom covered in a wet cloth over the boards. “I could assist there,” she said. “I’m able to clean floors.”

Roderick shook his head. “It isn’t cleaning. He’s wetting the planks to keep the caulking tight.”

As she had quickly gathered the night before, seafarers seemed to have their own language, much as those who practiced witchcraft did, using words passed down from generation to generation, understood only by their own kind.

“It keeps the ship from leaking,” Roderick added, when she gave him a questioning glance. He gestured at a slender lad who stood at the far railing. “Come, if you wish to help, you can work alongside Adam. He is a young Dutchman only on his fifth month with us. It will be a blessing that he has someone to focus him. He is a mite too eager to get beyond himself and set about tasks that he is not yet ready for, but if you are by his side I warrant he will not stray.”

Roderick made a gruff introduction, gave her a last lingering glance, then left them and resumed his duties on the deck above.

Maisie attached herself to the young lad, who was shy and awkward and much younger than she. His face flushed regularly while in her company. His current task was tackling a pile of filthy clothing. Maisie watched with curiosity as he tied items to a rope and then lowered the laden line over the side of the ship until it was immersed in the water.

She leaned over the railing to observe. “How clever.”

Adam grinned.

Holding tight to the rope, which was obviously no easy task, he let it drag through the waves alongside the ship in an effort to rid the clothing of dirt. Maisie watched what he did, and then assisted by lifting the garments from the pail he dropped them in after their dip, and squeezing them out. The hard work felt good and she was glad to be useful, though her hands became red and sore. It was no easy life being aboard ship, but at that point in her young life the work felt honest. And the basic conditions and presence of many toiling together aboard the vessel appealed to her because of her previous isolation.

Every once in a while a bell was rung. “What is the bell for?”

“It marks the half hour, so that men know when their watches end and they can rest.”

“Ah. Thank you.” She smiled at the lad.

Once again, he blushed.