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Mary smiled. “You’ve made a wise choice. She’ll need a firm hand, no doubt, but she’ll serve you well.”
Irritation piqued Christina. “I will not—”
The Black Dragon squeezed her hand tightly, ending her short-lived tirade in a fit of crushed fingers.
“I intend to give her a firm hand.”
“Among other firm things, I’m sure.” The trill of Mary’s throaty laughter set Christina’s nerves on edge, while her aunt’s words reintroduced dread that the Black Dragon now expected a bed mate. “Thank you for the business, Captain.”
He nodded at her aunt in dismissal, his stare still focused her way.
“Hancock has gone to retrieve your luggage. Let’s go.”
Apprehension flooded Christina like a deluge. This was the same man who’d seen her safely to Grand Bahama, protected her from a ship of lusty men, held her after Talbot’s attack. Yet tonight, he wasn’t the same man at all.
The captain threaded a possessive arm about her waist and they turned for the door. She bit her lip in worry as they descended the stairs.
On the moonlit veranda, Hancock stood, holding her valise. That sight, along with the warm night wind, struck Christina with one reality: She was leaving, escaping the inhuman barter of bodies and souls her aunt engaged in.
She wanted to sag against the captain in relief.
But she didn’t know if he’d saved her or planned to use her for his own pleasure.
He hurried her into a coach, then eased onto the seat beside her. Hancock jumped onto the box and the team lurched forward at his command.
She turned to the captain. The tight jaw and pressed set of his lips bespoke fury, even beneath his beard. Finally, he turned to her and leveled her with a hard stare that began at her face and ended with her display of cleavage. He was leering at her, just like all the other men. How could he? He had to know she’d been through hell in the last three days.
Unless he’d bought her for the reason her aunt intended.
Her heart raced as she angled away and grasped the neckline of the hated dress and jerked upward, though with so little material wrapped so tightly
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around her breasts, it did no good. Beside her, the captain grabbed her wrist and swung her back around to face him.
“Did you expect me not to look?” His question sliced her with its razor-sharp tone.
No, she hadn’t expected him to look. But she didn’t say so. His tone told her she’d been a fool for thinking it.
He released her wrist and swept his palm up the length of her arm. His fingers ended at her neck and tangled in her tresses. His touch left a shocking trail of tingles and heat.
“Don’t,” she said.
“Don’t what?” he shot back. “Don’t touch you? Don’t take what I just paid for?”
His free arm reached around her and brought her closer. Christina’s breathing constricted in a mixture of fear and anticipation. The Black Dragon wanted to kiss her. His gaze focused on her mouth, shouting that fact. She held back. He seemed much angrier, more dangerous. Not at all like the same man she’d left mere days ago.
God knew she wasn’t the same woman.
“You may have paid for me,” she began, “but I cannot be bought.”
He sidled closer, so close, his face blocked everything else in her vision.
“Think again. I bought you, all of you. Had someone else bid higher, he would have torn that red dress to shreds and had his way with you. Why should I be different?”
Christina covered her ears with her hands. “How can you say such horrible things to me after what I’ve endured?”
“As if I enjoyed myself worrying over what your aunt had schemed,” he growled. “Do you really think I relished handing over a thousand pounds in gold for you?”
“I will find a way to repay you. Perhaps if you had bothered to bid sooner, the price would have been lower,” she shot back.
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He shot her a withering glare. “I’ve been to enough auctions to know you let the others outbid themselves before you join in. Otherwise, you start a frenzy and drive up the price.”
Though his assessment sounded shrewd, Christina couldn’t dismiss the feeling there was an insult to her person somewhere in there. Was he insinuating she wasn’t worth more?
“You scared the life out of me, waiting—”
“You know, Lilli, only you would complain about the manner in which someone rescued you. I haven’t heard a single syllable of appreciation. My purse is a thousand pounds lighter, thanks to you. And what do I hear?
Complaints. If you had taken the time to find out your aunt’s vocation before you traveled all this way or thought for two minutes about your future before stowing aboard my ship—”
“That is enough!” Tears pricked her eyes. “I refuse to sit here another minute with you.”
He laughed. “Should I leave you here for Mr. Caulfield to find? Or there’s always your aunt.”
She sent him a narrow-eyed glare. “That’s beastly! But I am hardly surprised. Let me out!” she insisted. “I’ll find my own way.”
He tugged on her arm, hauling her nearly atop his chest. “To where?
London?”
She cringed. Definitely not there. “To…” She raised her chin, conscious of the captain’s withering glare. “To Louisiana. Yes. I’ll visit swamps. It sounds very exciting.”
“Princess, you wouldn’t last five minutes in a swamp.”
Fury and humiliation burned her. He was a brute without care for feelings but his own. What infuriated her more was the fact she’d actually missed the cad during their separation. But him, he waited to bid for her, then complained about the price.
“You’re a terrible man. Mean. Autocratic!” she shouted, then drew in a ragged breath. “I’ve just spent the worst three days of my life and you give me a lecture. I won’t have it. I shall happily leave you to your own devices!”
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“I’ve known for some while that you are irresponsible and impulsive, but you’re insane if you think you’re leaving now.”
The carriage lurched to a stop. She peered out and saw they were before a lonely white house. A pair of windows faced the beach like unblinking eyes searching the sea for someone’s return.
She threw herself toward the door of the coach and thrust it open. Below, the damp earth beckoned and Christina jumped, landing with a jarring thud that rattled her teeth.
“Get in the house.” He didn’t raise his voice. Then again, he didn’t need to in order to convey his anger.
Follow him like a servant? No, a slave. A whore. He’d bought her, after all.
But by God, he was a fool if he thought he owned her.
Retrieving another of Grandfather’s more scandalous sayings from her memory, she yelled, “Bugger off!”
She whirled about and darted for the beach, anger enabling her to make ground-eating progress.
Behind her, the captain followed.
Faster she ran, sprinting down the narrow path to the deserted sandy surface below. The scent of salt in the breeze barely pierced the haze of her anger.
With a curse, the captain grabbed her wrist and turned her around to face him.
She collided with the solid breadth of his chest.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he snarled.
“You do not own me!” She tried to tug her hand away.
His nasty grin sent shivers down her spine. “Oh, I do. And I plan to prove it.”
Christina tried to ignore the zing his nearness shot through her body, but his familiar scent made her senses blossom with awareness.
No! She wanted to stay angry with him. He was insulting, infuriating and—
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Very good with his mouth, she realized as the Black Dragon bent his head to her neck. She felt his lips caress her skin in a velvet sweep. His teeth grazed her earlobe. Christina shivered as sensations rioted down her spine.