Irish Linen Read Free Page A

her chin to shield herself from his view.
    “I heard you cry out,” he said, looking mildly uncomfortable.
    Embarrassed, she didn’t reply. Something in the man’s dark gaze scared her. “No,” she breathed, shrinking away in fear as she saw not Lucas, but the first mate.
    Lucas started to approach and then froze when he saw terror in her eyes. “Meghan.”
    She blinked and refocused her gaze. Reaction set in, and she trembled.
    With an exclamation of concern, Lucas moved quickly. He pried the cloak from her fingers and, with soothing words, pulled it over her head, before she had a chance to protest.
    The back of his fingers burned against her flesh as he tugged down the edges of her cloak. He adjusted the hood at her nape and then pushed her gently to sit in the chair. “You look as if you’re about to faint,” he said. “Rest there while I figure out what to do with you.”
    She perked up. “Do with me?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “We are ‘betrothed’ now, or have you forgotten? If we’re to keep you safe, we’ll have to continue the act.” He bent to pick up her discarded shawl and gown, holding them up with a grimace at their condition, before draping the garments over his sea chest.
    His reaction stung. “I’m thankful ye came when ye did,” she said, “but there’s no need to concern yourself with me any longer. The man won’t bother me again.”
    He fixed her with a hard look. “And the others? There are at least one hundred crew members on this ship. Will you handle them as well as you did the mate?”
    She felt herself flush to the roots of her hair. “I’ll manage,” she mumbled.
    Lucas closed the distance between them. She stared at him as she grappled with mixed feelings. She was angry and frustrated with her predicament, and shaken by the way Lucas Ridgely was making her feel. How could she feel safe and protected with him, yet unsettled, too?
    “You need my help,” he said without enthusiasm.
    “I’ll be all right.”
    He cupped her jaw and forced her to meet his gaze. “You need my help.”
    His hands on her cheeks were warm. To her surprise, his expression was gentle. Had she misinterpreted his reluctance to help? “I’m grateful for the offer, Mr. Ridgely.”
    “Lucas,” he prompted with a smile.
    Her stomach flip-flopped. “Lucas.”
    “After all we’re betrothed.”
    She inhaled sharply at the beauty of his male grin. “I’m sorry. I—”
    He held up his hand. “No need to apologize. Our engagement was my doing.” He sighed. “What a mess! But we’ll think of something. For now, why don’t you lie down and rest? We’ll talk later.”
    Meghan glanced toward the bunk that looked inviting. She was in his cabin, and that was his bed. Dare she stay and sleep as he’d suggested?
    She didn’t relish the prospect of returning to her own cabin and the company of three other women, especially when one of them was ill.
    She peered at him hard. “What are you going to do?” He looked exhausted himself. Had he been hurt in the fight? She didn’t think so. Her face warmed at the mental image of his bare chest.
    Meghan sat up straighter when he didn’t immediately answer.
    “I need to go topside,” he said. “Don’t worry; your virtue is safe.”
    She felt herself turning several deepening shades of red.
    Lucas reached into a cabinet. “Here.” He handed her another blanket. “In case, you’re still cold.”
    Meghan murmured her thanks as she accepted the quilt and clutched it against herself. She looked longingly toward the bunk and wondered if she’d hurt the cloak by sleeping in it. It felt slightly scratchy, but heavy and warm; she didn’t want to take it off. “The cloak,” she breathed.
    “I know it’s not the most comfortable article of clothing, but you may sleep in it. My sister has others. Your need is greater than hers.”
    His sister. “Thank you.”
    He opened the door and glanced back. “Lock the door when I’m gone.” He paused.