Page 140 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

“You were fighting with Captain Shaw!” The first man squealed, barely able to contain his excitement. “You’re fortunate you escaped.”

Nodding, Cedric closed his eyes again and didn’t speak for the remainder of the journey, feigning sleep until the first man set a gentle hand on Cedric’s arm and shook him.

“You’ll receive the medical treatment you need for those injuries about this ship,” he said when Cedric opened his eyes.

“You’re not coming with me?” Cedric struggled into a sitting position.

The second man laughed. “Have you already become attached to us?”

“You’re the first people who haven’t tried to kill me in a while.”

“If you were a pirate, we wouldn’t have been as kind,” the first man said.

Cedric offered a non-committal response and stood, then grasped hold of the ladder leading up to the ship. However, before he could climb up, the second man stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“You never gave us your name, Sir.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ALANA

“You found my husband!”

“Alana?” Cedric lifted his head, relief appearing on his pain-stricken face.

She grabbed onto the ladder, dragging herself forward as Wallace—his arms encircling her waist—struggled to prevent her from jumping into the longboat.

“Would you release her husband, so I don’t have to keep fighting with his wife?” he yelled.

The hand holding Cedric moved, and he scrambled up the ladder so quickly, she was certain his feet never touched the rungs.

He crushed her in his embrace, his mouth finding hers, and his enthusiasm propelled them backward into the side of the steering. His tongue pushed past her lips, caressing hers, and he lifted her body, pinning her against the wall. Her hands slid through his hair, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, and she wrapped herself around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Perhaps you’d like a cabin,” Wallace murmured. “Ahem!”

Cedric jerked his head back, a reddish expression tingeing his face, and set Alana back on the deck.

“My apologies…”

“Wallace,” the man replied, adding a stiff bow. “I rescued the ladies.”

“Thank you.”

Those two words were not enough to express the gratitude Alana was certain Cedric felt, but Wallace seemed to understand what he was trying to communicate and nodded in his rigid manner.

“Merely performing my duties.” Wallace crooked a finger. “If you would follow me.”

“What happened?” Alana whispered, indicating the second bandage around Cedric’s torso.

They walked, arms wound around each other, their sides pressed together as though they were one unit. Cedric craned his head toward her and lowered his voice.

“Before I could climb out the window, Mr. Evans stabbed me.”

“But how did you escape?”

Cedric grinned and bumped his forehead against hers. “I thought of you and attached the cannonball to his leg.”

She chuckled, paused, then frowned and turned toward the burning ship in the distance. “I should feel guilty for celebrating the death of a man.”