Master of the Desert

She took in the fact that his husky, confident baritone was barely accented even though he had spoken Sinnebalese fluently. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Her own voice sounded hoarse.

‘Where in England were you educated?’ His keen eyes watched her closely, and the intensity of expression in those eyes warned her not to lie to him.

‘I went to school in Ascot.’

‘Ascot?’ There was a faint note of mockery in his voice. He’d heard of the very expensive girls’ school there. ‘So you’re a very proper young lady?’

Not in her head. One flash of this man’s muscular back when he changed his top confirmed she was anything but proper. ‘I try,’ she said primly.

‘What is such a well-brought-up young lady doing on my yacht, stealing my food and threatening me with a knife?’

His relentless stare sent ribbons of sensation flooding through her, making it hard to concentrate—but this was her best, maybe her only, chance to get to the mainland and it was crucial to forge a relationship with him. She also had to persuade him not to report her to the authorities to avoid being arrested the moment she landed. ‘I was hungry—thirsty. Your yacht was here; I took my chances.’

She flinched when he laughed. Short and sharp, it held no hint of humour.

‘You certainly did,’ he agreed. ‘Didn’t you think to call out when you came on board? You could have made some attempt to locate the owner before you stole his food.’

‘I did call out, but no one answered.’

His lips curved as he propped his hip against the bench where she was sitting. ‘So you helped yourself to whatever you felt like?’

‘I didn’t touch anything outside the galley.’ Must he move so close and tower over her?

‘And that makes it right?’

‘I’m sorry.’ She sounded childlike—plaintive, even—but was lost for something else to say.

‘Next time I’m in Ascot, I’ll wander into your house and see what I fancy taking, shall I?’

‘I don’t live in Ascot.’ The angry words shot from her mouth without any assistance from her brain and her reward was an ironic grin.

‘So, we’ve ruled out Ascot,’ he said.

Before he could delve any further, she swayed and clutched her throat.

‘Feeling faint?’ he demanded caustically, refusing to be fooled by her amateur dramatics for a single moment.

‘I’m fine,’ she assured him, matching him stare for stare. Whatever it took, she wasn’t about to let him see how badly he affected her.

‘You’re not fine,’ he argued, narrowing his eyes. ‘You’ve had a shock and need time to get over it.’

She hoped that meant a reprieve, and shrank instinctively from his intense maleness as he eased away from the bench.

‘Relax.’ His lips tugged with very masculine amusement. ‘You’re safe with me.’

Did he mean that to be reassuring, or was he insulting her? And was she safe? Could he be trusted? For once, she didn’t know what to think. The man’s manner was dismissive and abrupt, and his appearance…Well, that was rather more intimidating than the pirates.

There could be no guarantees, Antonia concluded, even if he had bathed her wounds. So was the flutter inside her chest a warning to be on her guard, or awareness of his sexuality?

‘Are you travelling alone?’

A shiver of apprehension coursed through her as she stared into his eyes. Why would he ask that? ‘Yes,’ she admitted cautiously. ‘I’m travelling alone—but people know where I am.’

‘Of course they do,’ he said sarcastically. ‘So your family allows you to wander the world without their protection?’

This time she couldn’t hold back. ‘They trust me.’ She was not defending herself now, but Rigo, the older brother who had cared for her since her mother had died six months after giving birth to her, her father having passed away shortly after that.

But the man pursued her relentlessly. ‘And breaking the law is how you repay your family for their care?’

‘I’ve already apologised to you for coming on board,’ she fired back. ‘I explained I had no option but to board your yacht.’

His hands signalled calm as her voice rose. ‘Lucky for you I was moored up here.’

She balled her hands into fists as a last-ditch attempt to keep her temper under control, but all it gained her was another mocking stare. But what a stare…She couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to have that stare fire with interest, or darken with desire.

‘I hope you’ve learned your lesson,’ he snapped, shattering that particular illusion.