Page 194

W HY WAS MADDIE so angry? She didn’t know.

As she waited for one of the members of the naval staff to bring her more warm water from the kitchen, she paced along the passageway.

The truth was...the truth was no one had ever told her she was beautiful.

Certainly not with Hector’s honesty and intensity.

All right. It wasn’t completely true. Verity had told her she was pretty many times.

Her father had often complimented her grace and eyes.

But they were family. Their opinions didn’t count.

Although her mother had told her she was too plain to be beautiful, and Maddie had believed her.

Why did her mother’s opinion count then? She should disregard it as well.

She waved a hand as if to fend off those thoughts.

But then there was Mr. Hillebrand, a not-so-gentle gentleman whom she’d danced with and who had told her she possessed the grace of a bison.

He’d added he knew what he was talking about because he’d been to the Americas and seen the wild beasts running free through the prairie.

How rude. All because, before his comment, she’d stomped on his feet once or twice, no more than thrice, and kicked his knee, accidentally, of course.

And she’d been barely involved in the incident with the crystal bowl of lemonade that had ended up on his head.

She wasn’t a great dancer. So what? Lots of ladies couldn’t dance.

And then there was Mr. Clarke who, unbidden, had pointed out that her lips were too full and her hair too dark for his liking.

And her Aunt Cornelia claimed Verity was the only beauty in the family, which Maddie believed.

But Aunt Anne had told her she was as beautiful as Calypso, whatever that meant. Still, it sounded nice.

Oh, why was she fussing about nothing? Besides, poor Hector had been separated from civilization for years.

He must have forgotten his manners, and she didn’t care about her beauty or grace.

She was happy with the way she looked, but Hector’s honesty had shaken her deeply.

Because he really thought she was a stunner.

“Miss.” The steward handed her the flask of water. “Be careful. It’s very hot.”

“Thank you.” She had to push down her nervous energy not to slosh the water around as she walked to Hector’s cabin.

She would finish shaving him, then leave without engaging in more conversation with him. Not because she didn’t want to talk to him, but every time they talked, one of them ended up upset.

She didn’t bother knocking...and regretted it.

Sort of. A gasp left her as she found him wearing only a pair of tight breeches and nothing else.

All the sharp ridges of his well-defined muscles were on display.

There were a lot of them. She’d seen muscles like his only in the anatomy books she used for drawing, and those naked bodies didn’t cause her chest to flutter with some odd emotion.

He turned towards her. His dark-golden hair bobbed over his hard jaw in soft curls, enhancing his strong neck.

Without the long hair and beard, his features shone in all their beauty.

Good Lord. Her mouth grew dry. He was utterly handsome.

As her gaze roamed over his strong pectoral muscles and lowered—only for an artistic appreciation of his male body—she gasped again.

His torso showed the hardship of his life on the island.

There were burnt spots and scars, bumped edges and marks of different sizes.

And goodness, those legs. So thick they stretched the fabric to its limit.

Drawing him would be wonderful, especially naked. Again, for artistic purposes.

“I didn’t think you would return,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the fact he stood almost naked in front of a lady while alone in his cabin.

She would become the most scandalous woman in London in a moment, should this encounter be known to the ton. A part of her found the possibility disturbingly alluring.

She returned her wandering gaze to his stunning eyes. “I wanted to finish shaving your beard.” Although his short beard enhanced his masculine beauty and made him look like a dashing pirate.

He sat on the chair and tilted his head back, exposing his Adam’s apple.

His hair fell back, and she wished she could immortalise his beauty as he stayed in that position with the sunlight glowing from behind him.

She didn’t know why his pose—not at all gentleman-like—struck a chord deep within her.

A tingle started in parts of her body that had no business tingling, and she wasn’t talking only about her fingers itching to draw him.

All of a sudden, being close to him and attending to his face caused her breath to come out more quickly.

She took her time shaving him because she wanted to do a good job and because she wasn’t an expert barber. No, not because she enjoyed the closeness to him.

She ran the razor over his square jaw, sharp cheeks, and cleft chin, heavily aware of the flex of his powerful muscles and the heady scent of his skin.

“I apologise if I said something wrong earlier,” he said as she wiped the shaving cream off his neck. “But I don’t understand why you were upset.”

“We live in a world made of rules. Breaking them confuses us.” She’d better step away from him. “Gentlemen shouldn’t be so honest when complimenting a lady.”

He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, causing her to almost drop the razor. “Yes, but it’s a stupid rule, and it was only you and me.”

Oh, dear. Being alone with him was another problem.

“And you are beautiful,” he said as if making a point.

She had to change the subject before she did something stupid and...and...kissed him. “How did you get all those scars?”

“This one.” He touched a long scar right under his nipple and she hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“Is from the night of the storm. I don’t remember what hurt me.

When I regained consciousness on the beach, I had this cut.

The others are from various attempts at hunting, fishing, building a shelter, or leaving the island.

I’m lucky none of them became infected. I believe the seawater and a plant I used to clean the wounds had a role in it.

Others are from my fights with the primates. ”

“Did they attack you often?”

He lifted a shoulder. “At first, yes. I think they saw me as a rival or trespasser. Then only during certain months when they reproduced. The mating could go on for hours. The males fought fiercely to conquer a female.”

“Oh.” Her face flamed again.

He talked about those matters with such nonchalance she couldn’t stop herself from blushing.

More scars crisscrossed his abdomen like thin silver lines. Her chest constricted for him. She had one not particularly thick scar, but the pain still bothered her. She couldn’t imagine being cut repeatedly while having no medical assistance and needing to provide for herself.

“The burn?” she asked, shaving a spot under his ear.

He smiled, watching her from underneath the blond curtains of his curls.

It was the first time she’d seen him smile.

It transformed his whole body from handsome to angelic.

Or maybe devilish. She had still to make up her mind.

His beauty was too ruthless and intense to belong to heaven, but too ethereal to belong to hell.

“My first fire,” he said, touching the burnt skin. “I learnt to be more careful when handling a burning log rather quickly. In that instance, the seawater was sheer torture.”

“You were so brave.”

His smile disappeared. “No. I was desperate. Desperate people have nothing to lose. Brave people do.”

Even his stare, so intense and piercing, wouldn’t be considered proper in polite society, but Lord, if it didn’t make her shiver.

The horn signalling the lunch would be served hooted, breaking the moment.

She straightened her bodice. “You should dress. People will think you’re rude if they see you half-undressed.”

“I don’t care about what people do or don’t think about me.” His tone wasn’t reproachful, merely honest.

She cleaned the razor. “My reputation would be damaged. I shouldn’t be here alone with an undressed gentleman.”

That caught his attention. “That’s another matter.” He slid the shirt on, alas, failing to look less enticing. “The fabric chafes my skin. I’m not used to wearing clothes and the sun wasn’t gentle on me when I was on the raft.”

“Oh, right.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “So silly of me not to think about that.”

“Not silly at all.” He fell silent. The spark of vitality was gone, replaced by a scowl as if she had offended him.

She put away the razor and admired her work. A light stubble darkened a few spots on his face, but overall, he looked clean. Who was she fooling? He was devastatingly charming, with the right balance of ruthlessness and decency.

“Would you like something to eat? Come with me to the dining hall?” she asked because she had one too many inappropriate thoughts on a man who needed to recover from a dreadful ordeal.

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry and I’m not ready yet to leave the cabin. Too many people.”

She could relate. “Would you like me to bring you something to read?”

“Read?” His whole face brightened, almost in a childish manner. “Yes. Anything. Everything. All you can find.”

She laughed. His enthusiasm was contagious. “I’ll be back with a newspaper and some books.”

“Thank you.” He took her fingers in a surprisingly gentle grip. “For everything.”

A tingle started from her fingers, ran up her arm, went down, and stopped with a throb in her lower abdomen. Good gracious.

“You’re welcome.”

When he released her hand, a sense of loss weighed her down, which was ridiculous.