Captive of My Desires Read Free Page B

he didn’t. Dora explained that she hadn’t been questioned yet because the captain didn’t need the information until he was ready to set sail again, and when that would be was anyone’s guess. The captain’s wife lived on the island and he hadn’t seen her in two months.
    The pirates ate, slept, drank, gambled, fought, joked, and told stories. Gabrielle slept in a tiny room at the back of the main building, and she was allowed access to the main room each day, so she couldn’t complain that her time there was boring. Nerve-wracking, but not boring. Margery was brought in to visit her for a couple of hours each day, and Gabrielle was relieved to see that her former housekeeper was weathering her captivity well, although she complained incessantly about the thin straw mattress she was forced to sleep on and the poor quality of the meals.
    On the sixth day of Gabrielle’s captivity two more ships arrived and the main room actually got crowded with the new crews. And much more disturbing. There was nothing friendly about the newcomers. Several actually chilled her with a glance. And one of the two new captains stared at her so long, and so intently, she didn’t doubt he meant her harm.
    Tall and muscular, he was likely in his late thirties or early forties, though it was hard to tell with his full black beard that was so matted, she doubted a comb had ever passed through it. She heard people call him Pierre Lacross, though he probably wasn’t really French. So many of the pirates pretended to be something they weren’t, and none of them used their real names. But then she found out he was the exception to that rule. He really was French. He had a strong accent that he couldn’t turn on and off like the others could. He wasn’t ugly, but the cruel glint in his blue eyes marred what might have been a handsome visage.
    There was something evil about this man, and she wasn’t the only one to recognize it. The other men moved out of his way and avoided catching his eye. But his icy blue eyes kept coming back to Gabrielle, until she was nearly trembling with the fear he managed to inspire.
    Gabrielle had left England quite innocent of men’s desires. Her mother had never explained what she could expect when she married one. She probably would have done so before Gabrielle had had her Season in London, but Carla had been caught up in her romance with Albert, and then consumed with her own misery at the end when he’d betrayed her. But Gabrielle had learned a tremendous amount about men from the pirates.
    They didn’t curb their language when she was within hearing distance, and they loved to boast about their sexual conquests. So she had no trouble understanding the motives of the evil captain Pierre Lacross when he leaned over her the day after he’d arrived and said, “I’m going to buy you from my friend. Then it will be my choice what to do with you.”
    She wished she hadn’t understood what he was implying, but she did. Would Captain Brillaird care where the money for her came from as long as he was paid? Did she dare to promise him more than Pierre could possibly pay? That was the only way she could see to avoid being “owned.”
    There was nowhere to run even if she could manage to sneak out of the building, no way off the island except with the pirates. Captain Brillaird was still her only help and yet she knew he wouldn’t help her out of the goodness of his heart. What goodness? He was a pirate! Money was his only concern.
    But she knew instinctively that she would come to serious harm if Pierre had his way with her, which was why he terrified her so much. And she was unfortunate enough to witness his cruelty when he disciplined one of his own men. He whipped the man right there in the hall, and not with just any whip. A cat-o’-nine-tails it was called, and it shredded skin as easily as a knife. The look in Pierre’s eyes as he wielded it left no doubt in her mind that he was enjoying it.
    Pierre